“Thank goodness it will only be for a few days, sweetheart. Then we’ll be together again on Thanksgiving.” Lauren kissed him on the back of the neck.
He turned and took her in his arms, longing in his intelligent blue eyes. Yes, she had him right where she wanted him. But she wanted Linus as well. Not in the same lustful way that she craved her handsome investment banker, but she desired the executive producer nonetheless. Power was a tremendous aphrodisiac. Linus had the power to catapult her career.
Once she was safely ensconced in Constance Young’s spot, she could drop Linus if she chose. He wouldn’t be able to fire her then for fear she would shout sexual harassment. He would look like a fool. And if Lauren was sure of anything, she was sure of that. Linus would do anything to avoid looking foolish.
Chapter 75
Bringing a bottle of good wine to Linus’s party was like bringing coals to Newcastle, but Gavin wouldn’t think of coming empty-handed. Certain things were expected. That was the way he was raised. He was also raised to be prompt. Being on time was a sign of respect. Thus, he was the first to arrive.
Though he had been here each autumn for many years, he was still impressed as he walked into the penthouse apartment. Three floors on Central Park West. Twelve million at least. Linus was well paid, but KEY hadn’t afforded him this place. This was the direct result of marrying well. Very well.
Wayne met him at the thirty-first-floor entry.
“Dad’s still in the shower. Come on up and have a drink.”
They walked through the spacious family room and climbed the spiral staircase to the main floor of the apartment. A beautifully proportioned corner living-dining area offered spectacular views of New York from the oversize thermal-paned windows. Central Park and the lake straight ahead, the city skyline towering to the south, the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir lying north.
“This must have been a great place to watch the Thanksgiving parade when you were young,” Gavin observed, looking down at Central Park West.
“Not as good as you might think,” answered Wayne. “We’re up so high, we’d only see the tops of the balloons. Santa Claus was a little red-and-white blur.”
A waiter approached and took Gavin’s drink order.
“Mrs. Winston wasn’t able to make it?” asked Wayne, grasping for small talk, wishing his father would finish getting dressed and come out here.
“No, she wasn’t feeling well,” Gavin lied. Marguerite detested coming to office functions, and Gavin was just as glad. Especially this time. Let her sit up there in Connecticut and pet her precious pooch.
The bell rang, and Wayne excused himself to greet the next guest.
He was feeling miserable. His head ached, and he grabbed the railing as he walked down the spiral staircase, steadying himself. This Cipro really packed a punch. Wayne had been back and forth to the bathroom all day, not knowing whether to bend over the bowl or sit on it.
How was he going to get through this party?
Maybe, as soon as more guests came, he could slip away without anyone noticing. He could hole up in his bedroom and nobody would even realize that he was gone.
Sometimes, twisted as he knew it was, Wayne actually envied his brother. Seth lay in bed in his safe room, day after day, his needs well tended to. Fed, warmed, bathed. His hair was cut for him, his nails clipped. His pajamas were made of the softest cottons, his blankets the softest wools. Music was piped in to soothe him, though only God knew if Seth needed soothing. Wayne doubted it.
Seth didn’t have to worry about what he was going to do with his life or what other people thought of him. He didn’t have to be concerned about his professional or personal reputation. No one expected anything of Seth. His father was never disappointed in him.
Wayne hated himself when he thought like this. Seth never saw a glowing sunrise or a hot orange sunset. He’d never kissed a woman or chugged an icy beer. Never driven a car, letting a warm summer breeze blow through the open window while the radio blared, tapping his hand on the steering wheel to the beat. He’d missed baseball and soccer and football games and summer camp and pony rides and birthday parties and all the little things that happened every single day. Spicy hot dogs and crisp french fries, kites flying high above Central Park, sledding through the snow, jumping through the waves. He had missed his life.
But he’d also never caught their mother weeping time after time as she’d sat beside his bed. Seth hadn’t had to interpret the haunted, anguished expression on his father’s face when he came into the room to check on his fallen son. He didn’t have to keep trying to make it up to them for everything. He didn’t have to fail miserably.
Nor did Seth have to live with any guilt about what might have been.
Wayne pasted a smile on his face, opening the door to welcome the next person to the party.
Chapter 76
“There’s a lasagna in the refrigerator. Just stick it in the oven and heat it up, okay, Mike?”
“Don’t worry, Annabelle. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Go and have a good time.”
He had been more active today than he had in a long time, and Annabelle thought he looked tired now. Giving the twins dinner and their baths could leave him exhausted. She didn’t want to leave him, but she had to go to this damned party.
“Mrs. Nuzzo’s number is on the bulletin board. Don’t hesitate to call her if you need help, honey.”
“Annabelle,” he said with exasperation, “I’m fine.”
“I know you are, sweetheart, I know you are.” She kissed him on the cheek and pulled on the beaver jacket. “Tara, Thomas, I’m going now,” she called.
The children scurried from the bedroom and hugged her good-bye.
“You look pretty, Mommy,” declared Thomas.
“Thank you, kind sir.” Annabelle laughed, hugging the little boy, knowing that her hair was being mussed by the small arms wrapped around her neck, but not caring. “You two, be good for Daddy.” She turned to her husband. “I won’t be late, and I’m on my cell phone if you need me.”
Chapter 77
Now this is where he should be looking for a place.
Russ stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the cantilevered terraces on the towering Majestic. Those were a far cry from the tiny porches affixed to the old row house back in Baltimore.
He hated going back there, but he would have to this week. There was no way around it. He had promised, and his mother was counting on his visit. She was already cooking for it.
But he had prepared her for the fact that he wasn’t going to spend the night. Driving down Thursday morning after the show, a quick visit, and then driving back up to New York that night. He had a review due Friday.
Mother didn’t need to know that the review would be pretaped. Let her think he was doing it live in the studio. She wouldn’t be able to discern the difference. The average viewer couldn’t either.
No, on Friday, Russ would be out in the Hamptons, enjoying the weekend hospitality of a movie studio executive. No matter that it would be cold out there. He’d heard the guy had a fabulous home. Lots of space and giant glass walls that offered awesome views of the Atlantic. A staff that catered to every whim. A chance to spend quality time discussing potential business opportunities.
If all went well, Linus might have a new neighbor.
Chapter 78
His lawyer might have taken weekends off, but the FBI sure didn’t.
“I won’t say anything without my attorney, and I won’t be able to reach him until tomorrow.”
John Lee used all his concentration to stay calm. Federal agents hovering in one’s home, insinuating that one was going to be implicated in anthrax poisoning, were enough to terrify anyone. But he couldn’t panic.
“Your confederate at the lab has admitted now that he gave you the anthrax to smuggle out. You yourself boasted of it on national television. Of course, we have the whole thing on videotape,” Special Agent McGillicuddy declared. “Now, anthrax has
one of your coworkers in critical condition, and it’s a good bet that he isn’t going to make it. Yes, Dr. Lee, I suggest you do call your lawyer.”
“But the tube I displayed only had sugar in it,” Lee protested. “And I heard on the news that they found a container of anthrax in Jerome Henning’s house. He could have poisoned himself.”
“We’ll see, Dr. Lee. That material is being tested further. They’ll be able to determine if that anthrax is the same strain as the one you got from the lab. This would be a good time for you to cooperate, before anyone dies.”
Special Agent Lyons stared into the physician’s eyes. “Tell us why Jerome Henning had that anthrax, Dr. Lee. Were you and Henning in cahoots on this?”
Lee cleared his throat and swallowed. This shouldn’t go any further. He walked to the front door and opened it.
“Please leave now. I have nothing more to say until I have a chance to talk to my attorney.”
Chapter 79
Beth eyed the tray of cheesy nachos and debated in her mind. Were a few delicious bites worth all those points? They just might be.
“Cheese is the fat man’s candy.” Her Weight Watchers leader’s dictum ran through Beth’s head as she passed on the nachos and searched in vain for a vegetable platter. This party was going to be a challenge. Everything Linus was serving was so caloric. She should have eaten before she came.
Linus wasn’t paying her a bit of attention. He was talking to everyone else, regaling them with his stories. How could she draw him into conversation?
Football. Linus loved football. While Beth couldn’t have had less interest in what she considered a brutal sport, a bunch of big men fighting viciously for a silly brown ball, she had made it a point to read the sports section this morning for some insight on the game. The New York Giants were playing the Houston Texans. Linus should be happy, as the Giants were favored to win.
Beth waited for her opportunity. When Linus went to get another beer, she snagged him. “The Giants really need to control the ball and the clock and keep their defense off the field, don’t you think, Linus?”
“You’re right.” He seemed impressed at her observation. “And they have to run that damned thing.”
But he couldn’t have been too impressed, and he definitely didn’t want to engage Beth in further conversation. He had turned and made a beeline for the staircase, where Lauren Adams was making her grand entrance.
She looks like Audrey Hepburn, Beth thought as she viewed with envy the pencil-thin figure in the simple black dress. Lauren had swept her hair up into a French twist. All she needed was the cigarette holder and the long gloves, and the look would have been complete.
Linus was fawning over her.
Beth went to find the nachos.
Chapter 80
Sipping her glass of Chablis, Annabelle observed Beth Terry’s sad gaze. It was obvious to the people in the office that Beth had a thing for Linus. And just as obvious that Linus couldn’t have cared less about his unit manager, except to the extent that she benefited KTA.
She felt sorry for Beth. Though she hadn’t been around for it, and Jerome had never spoken of it to her, Annabelle had heard about Beth’s involvement with Jerome, how he had dated her right after Annabelle married Mike. Very rarely did anybody get away with keeping office romances private at KEY News, and social histories were often recounted in whispers.
Annabelle suspected that, when things ended with Jerome, Beth hadn’t taken it well. Annabelle remembered Beth as having been quite thin then. All the weight she had put on suggested lots of comfort eating.
Had Jerome written about Beth in his manuscript? she wondered.
Annabelle hoped not. It was one thing to put down on paper events that happened in a professional setting. It was quite another, and despicable, to reveal the most personal things that occurred between a man and a woman.
Chapter 81
At Essex Hills Hospital, Jerome Henning was not alone.
His brother and two nurses stood beside his hospital bed as the doctor switched off the ventilator.
Time of death: 5:34 P.M.
Chapter 82
During the halftime show, Linus decided that he should be the center of attention.
“I have a little surprise for everyone,” he announced. “Everybody gets an advance copy of The “Only” Thing: Winning the TV News Game, hot off the presses.”
The guests murmured and applauded politely. As the paperbacks were handed out, Constance elbowed Annabelle. “Oh, goodie. Linus’s book instead of an end-of-the-year bonus.”
Linus’s face grinned from the front of the book. Annabelle stroked the glossy cover. “Sure, I’d much rather have this than extra money, wouldn’t anybody?” she whispered back.
The party guests began leafing through the pages, looking for their own names and for those of their colleagues.
“What a crock.”
Annabelle turned toward the inebriated Gavin Winston, who had come up behind her.
“Shh,” she warned, holding her finger to her mouth.
Gavin waved her off. “Ah, he won’t hear me,” he said, nodding in the executive producer’s direction. “He’s too busy strutting around like a peacock.” Gavin held the book open to the introduction and began to read, slurring slightly. “I’m a television guy, so the idea of writing a book was a daunting one. But it’s been my pleasure to write this book. Every single word of it brought so many vivid memories flooding back.”
Gavin hiccuped. “Pardon me, Annabelle. But let me tell you something. If Linus wrote this book himself, I’m Marie Antoinette.”
Chapter 83
Yelena was exhausted. She’d hardly slept the last several nights, and she just wanted to have a drink, take a warm bath, and forget about her problems for a little while. She didn’t want to go to the party, but she knew Linus would be insulted if she didn’t attend. The thought of his dog slobbering on her was more than she could bear right now.
The hell with him. Linus would just have to understand.
She was pouring herself a scotch when Joe Connelly called. The poor guy hadn’t left the Broadcast Center all weekend.
“What’s up, Joe?” she asked wearily.
“I’m afraid I have more bad news, Yelena. Jerome Henning died. It looks like we may have two homicides on our hands now.”
Chapter 84
“Look, kids,” Mike bargained. “If you take your baths now, you can watch Disney before you go to bed.”
It worked. He left Thomas and Tara soaking in the tub with the bathroom door open while he went about cleaning up the dinner mess. He wanted Annabelle to come home to a clean apartment. He felt a bit like a kid himself, wanting her to be proud of him. And, truth be told, it felt good to be doing something productive for a change. It felt good to want to do something.
If this was the medication talking—and it must be, since nothing else had changed—Mike was going to keep on taking it. Not that he had stopped worrying about the things that had been bothering him over the last months, but now the sharp edges seemed to be smoother. The unbearable, bearable. The burden, somehow lifted.
Better living through pharmaceuticals. For today at least. He’d have to take it one day at a time and hope for the best.
He went back to the bathroom and helped the twins get dried off and into their pajamas.
“Don’t forget, Daddy. I need more Bactine on my boo-boo.”
The antiseptic was sprayed on the small finger. Mike applied a colorful bandage at Thomas’s insistence.
“There you go, Sport. All set.”
“I love you, Daddy.” Thomas threw his arms around Mike’s waist.
“I love you too, son.” He bent to kiss the child on the top of the head. “I love you too.”
The microwave beeped. Mike pulled open the popcorn bag and emptied its contents into a large ceramic bowl. The twins were delighted as he set the bowl on the coffee table before them.
“It’s just like going to the
movies, Daddy,” Tara observed.
“Even better. You can wear your pajamas, and there’s no tall guy in front of you blocking your view.” Mike squeezed in between the kids on the sofa.
Just as the Disney theme music began to play, the telephone rang.
“Bummer,” he whispered, getting up to go to the kitchen to answer.
“Annabelle Murphy, please,” said a man’s voice.
“She’s not here right now. Who’s calling?”
“This is Peter Henning.”
“Oh yes, Peter. I’m Mike. Annabelle’s husband. How is your brother doing?”
The man’s voice was flat as he delivered the news. “Jerome passed away an hour and a half ago.”
Chapter 85
Linus watched Lauren’s desirable behind slither up the spiral staircase to the thirty-third floor. He followed, eager to be alone with her.
The library had high ceilings and opened up to a large decked terrace with stunning views of Central Park and the skyline, extending east over the park, west over the Hudson, and south all the way to New York Harbor.
If that display, and what it implied, didn’t turn Lauren on, nothing would.
Oh, God. Something’s wrong with the kids, thought Annabelle as she felt her cell phone vibrate. Please, Mike, be all right. She flipped the phone open.
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