Another one? He looked at the date of the letter, then rummaged through his desk and pulled out an official-looking envelope. Dated two days earlier. Same message, this one from the Buser Foundation, a private scholarship fund that had awarded him a generous grant only to find that clerical errors had resulted in an overexpenditure of funds. A review of their grant applications had revealed that Kitt had failed to meet the grant requirements, and they had found themselves obligated to withdraw the award. This is your lucky day. Sorry, Charlie.
What morons ran these programs? A telephone inquiry told him little. The awarding of grants and scholarships was within the discretion of a committee. No appeal of the committee's decisions was possible, and all funds for the coming school year had been distributed.
Well, now he knew how the people felt who used to apply to his scholarship foundation, which was now defunct. He hadn't run it himself, but he'd reviewed applications. After initial requirements were met, a lot depended on impressions and simply the luck of the draw. And luck had been in short supply recently. In addition to the scholarships, he'd applied for a student loan, just in case, but upon receiving notification of the grants he'd called the loan officer who had processed his application, and told him to cancel it, squeezing into that deadline by one day.
With the TEN-PRO job in the bag, maybe he could help Jeff get a lawyer. Who knows, perhaps they'd go easier on him on this one. Enough legal troubles ahead. Tonight he was going to take Kari out to dinner. Maybe there was a movie she wanted to see. This parent thing—he was going to get it right.
Thor padded across the room and lay down on his feet when he sat down at the piano. He had to move him in order to use the pedals. As soon as he began to play again, the dog placed his front paws on Kitt's shoulders and began to lick him. He was not fully grown yet, some 150 pounds of muscle and power.
“You got no culture, Thor,” he told the young dog. Thor's tail thumped happily up and down.
“Down, boy.”
Disappointed, the dog sat down, ears back, avoiding Kitt's eyes. He laughed.
“Oscar performance, pal. Suffer a bit. We'll go run later.”
Soon the strains of a Beethoven sonata drifted through the little house. He was grateful for the concentration he had trained himself to develop. When he played his favorites he didn't hear Kari's CD player or the radio blasting from the truck next door as it proclaimed to a five-square-mile audience the tender musings of the owner's favorite rapper.
With effort, you could find peace in chaos.
Late that night Jeff called again. He sounded distraught.
“I have to see you, Kitt. This is important.”
“What now?”
“Can't tell you on the phone. Can you come now?”
He knocked on Kari's door.
“Kari, I have to go out for a while. Will you be all right here alone?”
She came to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Your dad called. He seems stressed. I better go see what's going on. I'll leave Thor here and lock all the doors. Can you handle it?”
“With Thor, yes.”
He made sure all doors and windows were secured, and told Thor to stay. In the condo they'd had burglar alarms, but the motion detectors he'd installed here mostly made Kari feel safer, and didn't do a whole lot to protect the premises. But Thor did.
At Jeff's apartment the alcoholic fumes were thick. Irritably, he shoved half-empty whiskey bottles out of Jeff's reach at the kitchen table.
“Try staying sober long enough to tell me about it, okay?”
“Don't give me a hard time, Kitt. This is the worst. I don't know what to tell Laura.”
“Could you give me a clue?”
“I'm being blackmailed.”
Kitt stared at him. Jeff avoided his eyes, and got up, pacing the floor.
“I'm already in deep with the IRS, and with other creditors. I haven't got much business going and Laura can't stay with her parents forever. I need money, Kitt.”
“To pay a blackmailer?”
“Not just that. We got to have a house. I need a lawyer. If you could get a wild card—”
“Jeff, I couldn't get a wild card if I wanted to. It's way late. I do have a deal pending with TEN-PRO. When I get the contract signed I can help a bit.”
“The trial's in two weeks, and I got a lawyer right out of law school. I doubt he can get me off.”
“I don't think anybody can get you off.”
“Someone like Donovan can at least get me a better deal.”
“He should. He charges six hundred per hour.”
“He's worth it.”
“Easy to say when you're not paying. Who's blackmailing you and for what?”
“What does it matter?”
Kitt got up.
“I didn't come here to get ripped off.”
“Kitt, don't go. I have no one else to turn to.”
“Start talking.”
Jeff began his restless pacing again, and Kitt sat silent, his long legs stretched in front of him, and waited. Jeff collapsed on a chair, nervously tracing patterns on the Formica of the kitchen table.
“It's because of you. Dave's after me,” he blurted out.
Kitt sat up straight.
“Dave? My coach?”
“You picked the guy. I never liked him. He wants money and he thinks I can get it from you if you get back on the tour.”
He sat back, thinking hard.
“It makes no sense. He knows I'm not going back. We went a few rounds a while ago.”
“It doesn't matter, Kitt. I can't afford to bluff him.”
“What's he got on you?”
“It's about the gambling.”
“What about it? His horse come in last?”
“He's going to tell Laura.”
“You're lying. Nobody would think I'd go back to pro tennis just so you can avoid a showdown with Laura.”
Jeff‘s voice was a squeak.
“A lot of garbage. Conjecture. A stab in the dark.”
He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him.
“Quit whining, Jeff! Is this about Kari?”
Jeff dove for the bottle, and with a shaky hand poured himself a drink. Kitt reached across the table and knocked the glass down.
“You will tell me, Jeff, while you can still talk!”
“It's because she's been living with you. He's going to the tabloids with his suspicions.”
“And what exactly does he suspect?”
“Same as you, Kitt. I figured you talked to him. This is ruining me. He can't prove anything. Nobody can prove anything.”
Revulsion swept over Kitt as he looked down at his brother sobbing at the kitchen table.
“I don't care what Dave can or cannot prove. You tell me the truth about Kari.”
Jeff stood up, shrugged. He tried to meet Kitt's stare and failed.
“You molested her.”
He hung his head. Kitt's voice rose.
“You raped her. You raped her for months.”
Jeff's hand came up in a futile gesture, a plea for mercy, then dropped down at his side.
“Well?”
“Please Kitt, I didn't mean to! I was going crazy with all the stuff that was going down. I didn't mean to hurt her. I am sorry!”
“And Lita?”
“Never. You got to believe me, Kitt. I wouldn't lie to you about this, honest I wouldn't. You know I couldn't hurt a little thing like that. Kari was—I didn't— well, it just happened. Laura and I, we were having trouble and everything was in a mess. But she's okay, isn't she? I mean, kids forget. And it wasn't really rape. I didn't hurt her. I kind of thought she liked it—”
“Liked it? Liked it? Why don't we make it Kari's fault—that'd suit you fine, wouldn't it! No Jeff, kids don't like to have Daddy raping their guts out!”
”I was in a panic! You do crazy things when you're desperate.” Jeff was whining now. “You don't know
what it's like, everything you've worked for gone. I'd always been the one with all the responsibilities. Laura wouldn't have understood, and you wouldn't, and I had no one!”
“Stop laying this on everybody else, Jeff. I didn't rape Kari. Laura didn't rape Kari. You did!”
“Can't you understand? I was hurting!”
“It still doesn't mean a thing to you that you've torn this kid apart, does it! That you made her out a liar when she cracked. You thought I'd hold your hand and tell you it was going to be okay, didn't you!”
“I knew you'd protect Kari from the publicity. And yourself.”
Kitt stared at him, scowling. You slimy coward. You lying piece of crap.
“I know you care about her, Kitt.”
“I get the picture.” The words came out cold and harsh, the way he felt. He shook his brother's hand off his sleeve and got to his feet, knocking the rickety chair down.
“You're still lying, Jeff. No one's blackmailing you.”
“How can you say that? Dave was in town a couple of times. He'd had that fight with you and he was ticked off. Maybe Zack put him up to it—”
“Dave wouldn't stick his neck out for my kind of cash, so now you're pulling Zack into this. What's the idea—pick a name out of a hat? Give Kitt a target?”
“Kitt, you don't understand!”
“Don't I? What do you do with your time, think up new ways to sucker me? What is this about, Jeff, new creditors on your tail?”
“You don't know what it's like,” he sobbed. “You know how it was before. I live in a dump. I've got no money. I have nothing!”
Kitt's fists tightened in his pockets.
“You're not being blackmailed, are you?”
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried the con, but I was trying to protect you and I did talk with Dave. He thinks you and Kari—”
“Tell me, Jeff, have you written up the story for the tabloids yourself?”
“Don't be that way, Kitt. I did things for you. I had to mortgage my house to get you where you were! All I'm asking is that you get me through this! And Kari's going to be all right, I know it. I was really gentle with her. I didn't—”
In a blind fury he struck out and hit his brother square in the jaw. Jeff fell back on the chair, clutching his chin. Blood ran from his mouth. Kitt staggered out of the room, then dashed down the stairs three and four steps at a time and ran out in the night. He breathed deeply, hungrily drawing in the cool, crisp air.
He had no brother.
It was spring break. After a run with Thor, he came home to find Kari wasn't there. At ten thirty she still hadn't shown up, so he took Thor and jogged the half mile to Joanie's house. Kari hadn't been there. He wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood, returning to the house every fifteen minutes or so to check.
It was eleven thirty before Kari showed up. He was standing in the dark at the window, watching her walk up the flagstones to the front door. She tripped over a stone that jutted out at an awkward angle and stumbled in the door.
“Where have you been?”
She seemed startled to see him and mumbled something unintelligible.
“I can't understand you, Kari. Speak up!”
“At Joanie's.”
“Try again. I went there.”
“You went checking on me?”
“I went to pick you up. You were late and I was worried. Now what have you been doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't lie to me, Kari. I won't put up with that. Now where were you?”
“To a movie.”
“So you knew you wouldn't be home on time. What movie?”
“Wildfire.”
“That's rated R. How did you get in?”
“They don't check.”
“Kari, you're thirteen, and you don't look a day older. They didn't need to check. So tell me how you got in, and let's have the truth.”
“Dana's boyfriend got us in.”
“Who's Dana?”
“Joanie's sister.”
He stared at her. Her childhood had passed abruptly. This was open defiance.
“I may be pretty clueless as a parent, but get this straight. I'm in charge. I won't be lied to, and I won't be ignored.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah. Well, it's late. Better get up to bed. Don't count on going anywhere this week.”
She turned in utter amazement.
“You're grounding me?”
“Got it.”
She stormed out of the room in tears. Kitt sighed, and picked up a book, turning the pages with grim determination. He was not going to toss and turn tonight about Jeff, or Kari, or anything else.
Keeping Kari busy on the long summer days wasn't easy. Summer tennis clinics for the university brought in some money, and Kitt did public service clinics for younger children at local parks. With some difficulty, he persuaded Kari to accompany him. She was a good player, and the physical exertion could only be good for her.
Jeff did not mention their previous encounter the next time they met. Nor did he say a word about the lawyer Kitt had hired. He had a new crisis to focus on, and Kitt knew that Kari was already far from Jeff's thoughts. Shortly after their clash Kitt had met with Laura, and together they confronted him. He offered no resistance and seemed almost detached, as though he had more important things on his mind.
Laura was furious. She was grimly silent as Kitt drove her back to her car.
“What are we going to do about Kari?”
“What are we going to do about anything! Imagine what's going to happen when this gets out—the tabloids will be all over it. Thanks to you, we'll be up there in neon signs.”
“What about Kari?” he persisted.
“Kari will be all right. Children are resilient.”
“She's not a child. And it will take more than your say-so for her to be okay.”
“What do you want me to do? Wave a magic wand and say it never happened? Believe me, I'd like nothing better.”
“Kari needs help.”
“Why? She's safe. She hasn't been molested for a long time. Of course it's been hard for her, but it's over. She'll forget about it.”
“You serious?”
“Yes, I am. It's not like she was dragged into the bushes by strangers. I'm livid at Jeff. It's disgusting. He had no right to do this to us.”
“To us,” he repeated.
“Yes, to us. This thing is affecting all of us. Even you can see that.”
“Not like it affects Kari.”
“I'm not making excuses for Jeff. He's been a jerk. But Kari's a teenager now, and she dramatizes things. That's her age. There is no need to hold the whole family up to shame. Heaven knows we get enough of that with this trial coming up.”
“Are you saying you want her to say nothing?”
“What would be gained by making this public?”
“She could get help. She needs counseling and she won't go because a therapist would make a police report. They have to.”
“I will talk with her. She's not crazy and she doesn't need therapy. For heaven's sakes don't let this get all out of control. I'm sure I can set her straight. She needs to put it behind her.”
“It's not that simple, Laura.”
“Do you have to make everything into a major crisis? This problem stopped eight months ago, and she seems all right. If she needs to talk, she can come to me.”
“And be told that she mustn't rock the boat?”
“That wouldn't be bad advice. She will only be hurt more if this thing becomes public. All her friends would know.”
“Not to mention yours.”
“Kids would make fun of her. Boys won't want to date her. Or the wrong kind of boys will try to date her.”
“Dating is not a pressing issue. She's thirteen. It can wait. Her mental health can't.”
“She could come home with me, but it needs to wait till I work things out.”
“What things?”
“The div
orce.”
“You're going to divorce Jeff?”
“Can you think of one reason why I shouldn't?”
“So you want her to stay with me till the divorce is final?”
“It would just upset her. And my parents don't need this, either.”
“You're not going to tell them?”
“Of course not. They don't need to know.”
“She needs you, Laura.”
“I'll do the best I can. But you're the one who practically dragged her out of my house, and you're going to have to take the consequences. Right now I don't even have a house to bring her home to. My folks are not so young anymore, and I won't ask them to have Kari, too.”
“I can't believe you, Laura. What's happened to you?”
“Happened to me? Look at my life, Kitt. There's nothing left. You quit tennis and ruined Jeff's career, and he went off the deep end.”
She yanked the car door open, and stepped out. The night air came rushing in, and Kitt found it refreshing.
Laura turned, her eyes flashing venom.
“I hope you're satisfied, Kitt Buchanan. Everything I had is gone. There's no money. I don't know how I am going to live. We're up to our ears in scandal, and we'll never live it down!”
“Play on.”
“If you had listened to us and stuck with your career like a man, everything would've been fine.”
“You sound just like Jeff.”
“Jeff was a great man at one time and you've made a loser out of him. You drove him to all this. There's no way I can stay married to him now. My daughter is as messed up as her father. If you'd stayed out of it I could have fixed things at home, just between us. I'd have straightened him out. I'd have seen to it that Kari had plenty of happier things to think about. As it is, everything's shot.”
As he rolled up the driver's window, she took one last shot.
“Look hard, Kitt Buchanan. You can take the credit for this mess!”
Kitt's twenty-fifth birthday came and went without fanfare. Kari baked him a cake and made comments about the quarter-century mark. Middle age was right around the corner, she told him. Danny sent a card from Florida.
Jeff's trial came up in the first week of August, and he was served with the divorce papers on his first day in court. Kitt had dug into his meager bank account and hired a lawyer. Not Donovan, whom he couldn't afford, but a reputable attorney with experience in tax cases. He'd given Jeff little hope that he could get off without a jail sentence. Years of embezzlement and fraudulent reporting left little in doubt. The best they could do was try to reach an accord with the Internal Revenue Service and appeal for a light sentence.
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