by Dara Girard
“I’m glad to hear it,” Martha said, entering the room with Hildie close behind. She looked at the other startled faces and added, “Everything she’s said is correct.”
Michelle looked at Martha. “When will Joanna get here?”
Martha took a seat. “Joanna won’t be coming.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“Who’s Joanna?” Sean asked Teresa under his breath.
“James’s mother,” she replied then nudged him to be quiet.
“How could she be dead?” Michelle asked. “When did it happen?”
“These past several years, after he left you, James has been out of control. Joanna thought she could manage him. She was wrong.”
Michelle stared at her for a long moment. “You don’t think?”
“We don’t know. Neither does James. ‘She tried to stop me’ that’s what James told me afterwards. ‘That’s all I remember.’ He wanted to return to you. No one saw what happened. But there were scratches all over her body. It was the same night he was attacked. I thought that maybe you could heal him.”
“That’s why you sent that lawyer to the island to settle. You believed he had hurt Delana too.”
“My grandson is capable of many things. I think it’s time we both realize that he’s dangerous and let him go.”
Sean shook his head. “From what I’ve seen of his medical history, which is far from complete, I’d say he’s more of a danger to himself than anyone else. He’s had a series of hospital visits and from the little I can assess his recoveries would have been long and painful.”
“He moved a lot so he could get the best care,” Michelle said. “He told me he was accident prone.”
Sean’s gaze sharpened. “Lots of broken bones?”
“Yes.”
“Fractures?”
“Yes.”
“Unexplained illnesses?”
“Sometimes.”
Sean ran a hand through his hair and swore. “I’ve never seen it taken to this extreme but it’s possible.”
“What?”
“There was this case when I was practicing in New York of this woman who would take her daughter to different hospitals with various complaints. Nobody made the connection until she went to Illinois and did the same thing. It’s called Munchausen by proxy. It’s a mental health issue where a caregiver, seeking attention, makes up or causes illness or harm to a person under their care. Some cases are more extreme than others.”
“But… Joanna adored James,” Michelle said unable to believe him. “She was very attentive to him. They truly were accidents. James told me he was playing in the driveway when he was run over by a car at three. Due to his leg braces, he tripped down the stairs when he was six and broke an arm; he had another car accident at nine…” Michelle let her words drift off. “She couldn’t have done all that. She sounds like a monster.”
“No, she wasn’t the monster,” Teresa said. “The monster’s still here.” Teresa shifted her gaze to Martha.
Martha sniffed and shook her head. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“The fact that you believe that is what is truly terrifying,” Michelle said. “Your daughter was mentally ill, but you decided to protect her.”
“I loved my daughter.”
“It was greed that drove you. Greed and power. With James dependent he would never strike out on his own. He and his brilliance would stay under the Winfield control.”
“That’s not true.”
“With your wealth and money you shielded your daughter from any suspicion. You made sure her husband stayed gone. You watched from a distance as she took James to hospitals around the globe so no one could make the connection.”
“The first time…I really did think it was an accident. She was behind the wheel and didn’t know the nanny had let little James play in the drive. I didn’t realize she paid the gardener to make up his story until later.”
“How did Graham fit into the picture?”
“He was useful. As one of the first responders on the scene, he was suspicious about James’s accident. Fortunately, he liked money enough to keep his suspicions to himself. Joanna thought that would be useful since he knew what law enforcement looked for when a child was hospitalized. He also made sure Joanna didn’t go too far. James always got the best care. And I knew when he was old enough he could be free. I thought…when he met you…it would all end.”
Remember the story. Bertha’s words suddenly came to Michelle’s mind. What story and why? Michelle looked at Martha’s regal features and thought back to the English cottage and the garden. How Martha seemed to be testing her and how annoyed she’d felt. But now she knew that moment had offered her a clue. Her father, with all his wealth of international tales, never told her the story of the man born cursed as a beast. She remembered her father constantly feeding them with fairytales. And one of his favorites, to her annoyance, had been The Princess and the Pea. “You’re not listening,” he’d constantly chide her.
“It’s a silly story about a girl with an obvious skin problem.”
He shook his head in disappointment. “Intellectuals always miss the point. Listen with your heart not your head,” he’d said. She had heard him but she’d never listened. Now she knew what he and the story had been telling her. I’ve been following the wrong story. Their tale was not a story about a beast or a curse, but something else. Something small. Something like The Princess and the Pea. James’s true nature, like the princess in the story, could be revealed by something so small no one else would notice it.
“You lied to him,” Michelle finally said, her mind becoming clear. “There’s no such thing as the curse of the beast. I knew there was a reason I’d never heard that story. You made it up as a way to control him.”
Martha kept her head raised, unapologetic. “I didn’t have a choice. James tells people that he was around nine when he learned about the curse, but it was sooner than that. It was the day he told he thought his mother had pushed him down the stairs. I got angry and said only wicked children with the heart of the beast made up such things. I said it wasn’t real, I told him to be afraid of such imaginings.
“He was about six and trembled with fear then passed out in my arms. Since that day he blackouts whenever he fights not to remember something awful.”
“But you knew he wasn’t lying,” Michelle said.
“The blackouts protected him. It’s important that a child loves its mother. It’s the order of things. Joanna truly loved him. You should have seen her with him when he was a baby. She was so happy. I wasn’t going to let anyone steal him away from her.”
“But it was still all a lie. You lied to a child.”
Martha shrugged. “The prophesy was real.”
“Yes. His love for me is killing him because all his life he’s lived the lies and secrets you and his mother have fed him. How did you do it?”
Martha shook her head.
“You used his special talent,” Michelle guessed. “His ability to connect with things from the past. And he’s extra vulnerable to it when he’s…let’s just say at the height of passion?”
Martha smiled, amused. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You put something in James’s flat that influenced his energy. Possibly a silver pin or a decorative ornament, but it bound him to the memory of a dark, possessive love and that’s what started to take over him. That’s what was in his London flat and came to our house. I thought it was something that Joanna had given us but it wasn’t only her I should have been careful of. It was you too.”
“There are a people who came bursting forth from flames,” Teresa said remembering one of their father’s stories. “They are hot, wild and burning with rage. They rage against injustice. They rage against loss. They feed on vengeance.”
Hildie spoke up. “That is not who she is. Her heart is dark for another reason.”
&n
bsp; Martha held up her hand. “Quiet, Hildie.” She fixed Michelle with a look. “I did everything in my power to try to make James happy the best I could. You wouldn’t have been able to marry him if it wasn’t for me. I tried to free him.”
Hildie rested a hand on her shoulder. “It is time I confess something to you.”
Martha shook her head. “Now is not the time.”
“Yes, it’s time I tell them the truth about you and you learn the truth about me.”
“No, Hil—”
“I don’t believe in happy endings,” Hildie said. She looked around the room. “You’re all so young. You don’t know the pain of regret and bitterness. We’ve lived with it. We’ve seen it. Her family has suffered. They had a right to rage. Her father, who had a gift like James’s, had his first wife and child stolen from him. He taught her how important it was to keep those you love close to you no matter the price. He never found his wife, child or the people who took them. It haunted him and that kind of anger does not subside. It taints a bloodline.”
“No,” Teresa said. “A bloodline isn’t tainted, only the mind is. It’s what you choose to believe and if it’s filled with lies—”
“You really believe that?” Kenneth said curious. “That a bloodline isn’t tainted?”
“Of course. Look at you. You’re nothing like your father or brother.”
Jessie took his hand and softly said, “And you never will be.”
Hildie’s lip curled. “You don’t know anything if you believe that.”
“I said be quiet,” Martha said.
“Despite everything, Martha tried to be different,” Hildie continued. “And when I saw you and James I foolishly thought so too. I too, believed in a happy ending. James invited me to his flat and told me about the person he was planning to see to help him get rid of the curse. Martha had been called away on business and he was eager to talk to someone.
“Joanna didn’t know I was there when she burst into the place. I hid in the bathroom as she pleaded with James to stay with her a little longer. But he refused to listen. He told her he loved her, but that his life was with you now. Then he turned his back on her. He didn’t see her fly into a rage and lift the statue.
“She struck him hard. Once then twice. He lay motionless on the ground so I thought she would stop. But this time she had a look on her face and that look told me she wasn’t going to ever let James go. I thought it was time someone did what you should have done years ago. Protect him. I ran out like a wildcat and scratched her. We fought and…she fell back and cracked her head on the table. She was dead. I suppose Graham had been waiting in the car, because he arrived soon after. He helped me arrange things and set up the home invasion story. I didn’t want you to know that I’d accidentally killed Joanna. I didn’t want to lose our friendship.”
Martha patted her hand. “I understand. I forgive you.”
Michelle stared at the two women flabbergasted. “But you blamed James for his mother’s death,” Michelle said. “You convinced him of it.”
“At least he was alive.” Martha said, resigned to what her friend had just revealed.
“I couldn’t risk him making the connection to me also being there that day. He remembered part of his argument with his mother, in time he could remember more. I couldn’t risk it,” Hildie said, her voice filled with regret.
“In a way it was his fault,” Martha said in a sad voice. “Joanna was perfectly normal until she became a mother.”
Chapter 51
BJ motioned Jessie over to the side. “I don’t know if this will help, but remember when I had you read that emerald for me a couple of weeks ago?”
“It was a very sad reading. A painful love if I remember correctly. Why?”
“The stone belonged to Michelle.”
“What?”
“Somehow she damaged the stone and wanted me to fix it. She said she threw it but I sensed there was something more.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure this helps, but—”
Jessie suddenly looked pensive. “I said there was a block to their love, didn’t I?”
“I think so.”
She squeezed his arm with affection. “Thanks for telling me. I think I know what we can do.” She walked over to Michelle. “You have to go to James as Sean said, but first you have to take off your ring.”
“What?”
“The ring is what is blocking you two. It’s holding too much energy from the past. The love is too painful, that’s what James is responding to.” She held out her hand. “Give it to me and go to him.”
“Nothing will work,” Martha said. “It’s too late now. Let him go in peace.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Teresa said. “Take it off.”
Michelle covered her hand. “But Dad said this ring gives me power—”
“It was broken for a reason,” BJ said. “Its usefulness is gone. It led love to you but now it’s keeping it from you. It kept some of the dark energy of the past.”
Michelle hesitated. She felt vulnerable without it. What if it didn’t work? What if all hope was already lost? “Love alone doesn’t work. I need—”
Kenneth knelt in front of her, his gentle gaze holding hers. “Remember what I told you in the coffee shop? You’re not alone. Why would you depend on a stone, when you have the power of our love surrounding you?”
Tears blinded her. For the first time she realized what she’d kept from herself—from James. If she’d reached out sooner, spoken to her parents, her sisters, she and James may not have suffered as much as they had. It was her arrogance that had prolonged their parting. But now as she looked at the faces of all those who loved her she realized she didn’t have to fight alone, there was no weakness in asking for help, admitting her vulnerabilities.
Michelle slid the ring off her finger and handed it to him, ready to fight once again knowing she had the power of an army behind her.
Michelle went to James’s bedside. As still as he lay, he reminded her of a mountain—awe inspiring, like a mighty volcano. She wouldn’t tell him all that she knew yet, just enough to break him free of his torment. She touched his hand. You’re not a beast. She silently told him. You are strong, a protector, a husband, a friend. You want to stay with me. You want to live with me. She saw his brows furrow and knew she’d reached him. She held his hand in both of hers. You want to stay with me forever.
I can’t. I killed my mother. I hurt you.
It was all a lie.
But I saw it. I saw her.
How could you see anything after you were attacked?
He paused. She was there. I remember that…and they told me I may have…poor Mum.
It wasn’t you.
And you…I saw you. The fear you had.
I’ve never been afraid of you. You are not a beast. Someone else hurt your mother and when you hurt me that night you were only fighting a dream.
But the prophesy?
Only you can stop it from coming true.
Me?
Yes.
How?
You must live. You might fight the darkness and come back to me.
Chapter 52
Angela was scared. She stared out the window at the crowds leisurely passing her hotel suite. The summer sun high in the sky.
Her husband had taken her out of London for a while to ‘steady’ her nerves. But the trip to Paris had done nothing. Angela sent a cursory glance at the shopping bags she’d left on the couch. The staff would later pack them away; right now she wanted to think. Fortunately, she was alone; her husband had taken the girls out shopping.
Angela covered her mouth and fought the building of tears in her eyes. With Joanna gone there was no one to talk to. Not the way she needed to. She missed the tea and biscuits. She never thought she would have, but she did. But most of all she missed Joanna. Joanna understood what a mother sacrificed. What a mother’s role was supposed to be.
She’d done it all for Cory and for her girls. It was a mother’s duty to
protect her children’s future. Graham had promised her that he could control James. Keep him in line. Make sure that he stayed out of the picture long enough for Cory to shine. Having James tucked away on St. Clarine in that shabby mansion had been ideal. Since the loss of his mother and his sight, James showed little interest in the business anymore.
But then Martha had to interfere and call that girl. Her husband had no idea how her blood boiled while she listened to the hope in his voice that Michelle would be able to lure James back into the fold. That they could cajole him to use his brilliant mind again. What about your son? Your daughters? She wanted to shout at him. But she only smiled and planned.
She never thought Michelle would go. It had been too long and from what she understood, he had left her. Didn’t the woman have any pride? Plain as she was didn’t she know it was better to wait for a man to come to her?
But when Graham had called her and told her what the woman he’d placed at James’s place had said, she knew she had to do something. Graham said he’d take care of it. Graham always took care of things. Joanna had trusted him.
Graham had gone too far this time. The allegations were damming. But if he said anything, she’d deny it. She’d paid him in cash. Their communication had been short and she’d known him for years, it was perfectly reasonable that she’d converse with him. Her husband wouldn’t believe it and neither would Martha. Besides, Angela was a Winfield and they protected each other. No matter what.
A bloodline isn’t tainted, only the mind is.
Teresa’s words haunted Kenneth until late the next day. He and Jessie had left the hospital, offering Teresa and Sean a place to stay before heading back home. Now it was wait and see. Kenneth still couldn’t fathom all that he’d heard in the hospital waiting room. He couldn’t believe all that the Winfields had done. Had hidden.
