by Robert Gonko
at the gate and got into the mansion.
“It was a trap, wasn't it,” Tracie said.
“You married well, Sam,” Charley said. “She figured it out faster than Captain Crazy, here.”
Steve shook his head ruefully. “You never let up, do you?” he rasped.
“Keeps you humble,” Charley said. “Now shut up and let me finish. Sallie was waiting for him at the door. She took him up to her office on the third floor, and shot him herself. Then she had her goons leave him in the hotel, where he would be found quickly. The idea was to lure you here. It worked.”
“I still can't believe it was her,” Sam said. “I'd come to the conclusion that it was Nick. I am an idiot.”
“No, you're not,” Tracie said.
“Even I didn't suspect her,” Steve said. “She fooled a lot of people. It happens, Sam. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay? I'll be alright and she's dead. It's all over.”
Sam and Tracie returned to their suite at the Four Seasons hotel. Priscilla Atkins was there, waiting for him. “Can I talk to you?” she asked.
“Sure,” Sam replied, introducing her to Tracie. “Come in.”
Tracie made an excuse about needing to work out and went to the hotel's gym so Sam could talk to Priscilla alone. “I owe you a huge explanation,” Sam's birth mother said.
“The police told me what Sallie did,” Sam said. “You don't have to explain,”
“No, not about that,” she said. “Don't you want to know your story?”
They sat down on sofas. “You have to understand how I was raised,” she said. “The earliest lesson I remember was never embarrass the family. We're supposed to be the cream of the crop. There could never be a hint of scandal. So when I got pregnant, it was considered a disaster.
“My father was furious. He wouldn't have what he called a 'bastard grandchild' and tried to make me have an abortion. I refused. My mother intervened and arranged for me to go to a home for unwed mothers.”
“Run by Susan Orrick,” Sam said.
“You found out about that?” she asked.
“The Bennetts did,” Sam said.
“Susan was such a good friend to me,” she continued. “She never judged me. She never judged anyone. She just did what she could to help women in my situation. She even lent me her name when it came time to give birth. After that, I made sure the home had all the money it needed. I cried my eyes out when she died.
“Before you were born, I had decided to keep you,” she said. “Dad was so furious that I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he did what, at the time, I thought was worse. He controlled my trust fund, you see, and threatened to completely cut me off if I didn't give you up. I did what he said. I was scared of being on my own.
“I'm not trying to make excuses,” she continued. “I know I shouldn't have done it. I've come to understand that there are some things more important than money. For the last few years, I've thought about getting in touch with you. I knew who you were, you know. Hank kept me informed.”
“So why didn't you?” Sam asked.
“Because in a family like mine, there's always going to be intrigue and backstabbing,” she said. “The Curtises are the same way, You've seen that for yourself. I didn't want you exposed to all that. It doesn't matter now, of course.”
“So...so you did want me?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” Priscilla said. “And I still do.”
Sam wasn't sure who made the first move, but it didn't really matter. All he knew right then was that his mother was hugging him. It was all that mattered.
TWENTY
In early July Sam had a surprise visitor. Anderson Braddock showed up on his doorstep, his appearance shocking. He was in a wheelchair equipped with an oxygen tank, a mask hanging from a strap around his neck. He looked pale, almost as if at death's door. “What happened?” Sam asked.
“My third heart attack,” Braddock explained. “Right after Sallie died. I guess it was the shock of what she did.”
“Should you even be traveling?”
“Probably not. I didn't think you'd want to come back to Texas, though, and some things are better handled in person. Besides, if the end really is near, I want to keep at it as long as possible. Retirement isn't for me any more than it was for Hank. Mind if I come in?”
Sam wheeled him inside. They were still living in the guest house on the Atkins estate and were even considering making it their permanent home. He took Braddock into the study. “So why did you come all this way?” Sam asked.
“First, to tell you how sorry I am about what happened,” he said. “Hank always told me that when he died, I was supposed to make sure you'd be okay. I didn't do a very good job of that.”
“It's hardly your fault,” Sam replied. “Sallie fooled everyone.”
“She sure did,” the old lawyer agreed. “Still, I promised Hank and I haven't done a very good job of keeping that promise. How's your detective friend doing?”
“Getting better every day,” Sam said. “I sent him to Aruba for his recovery. He didn't argue.”
“He turned out to be a handy guy to have around.”
“He always has been.”
“I hear you gave him ten million dollars.”
“He earned it,” Sam said.
“I think Hank would have agreed,” Braddock said. He opened the briefcase on his lap and took out a manila envelope. “This is the other reason I came. We're still working on the estate and I ran across this. It was addressed to you. I have no idea what it says.”
Sam open it, examined the contents, then handed a sheet of paper to Braddock. “Go ahead,” he said. “He was your friend.”
Braddock read the letter. “One thing about Hank,” he said when he was finished. “He was always full of surprises. Damn, I miss him. Sallie too, in spite of what she did.”
Sam said nothing. Braddock waited a bit, then spoke again. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Can you help arrange a meeting?” Sam asked.
A week later Sam took his seat on the board of directors. He did not speak to any of his half brothers. Bill, Nick, and Jerry sat across from him with their aides. A portrait of Hank Curtis hung on the wall. From where Sam sat it seemed like his biological father was looking down on him.
Bill officially called the meeting to order. “Let's get right to it,” he said. “This company needs a direction for the future. The four of us will have to decide on that direction. I'm sure each of us has ideas on which way to go. Today, we'll hear all those ideas.”
That went on all morning. Nick re-iterated his long-standing idea of spinning off the technology division into a separate company. Jerry wanted to sell off several lines of business and plow the profits into expanded oil exploration. Bill's main concern was increasing profitability by 'revamping' the benefits structure and 'streamlining' the payroll with an eye towards taking the company public down the road.
They went back and forth for about an hour or so. Sam listened patiently and quietly, taking occasional notes. Every so often he caught one of the brothers looking at him nervously. He held back a smile.
Finally, Nick couldn't contain himself anymore. “Sam, you haven't said a thing, “ he said. “I can't believe you don't have an opinion.”
“He's just scared without his hired gun to back him up,” Jerry said.
“Sam doesn't scare as easily as you think,” Nick replied.
Before Bill could get into the act, Sam slammed his palm down on the table. The room fell silent. “Enough!” he exclaimed. “My kids are more mature than the three of you. Sure, they bicker, but not like the three of you. Have you forgotten that you're supposed to be brothers?”
“This is a business meeting, not a family one,” Bill said.
“That's the problem,” Sam replied. “You all put business and making money ahead of family. Even your...our father didn't
do that.”
“How the hell would you know anything about our Dad?” Jerry asked.
Sam held up a piece of paper. “He left me a letter,” he said. “I'd like to send everyone else out of the room for a moment. The four of us need to speak, privately.”
Everyone else cleared out. Sam opened his briefcase and took out three envelopes. “There's one for each of you,” he said. “Hank left them to me with instructions to give them to you when I thought the time was right. I think it is. Before you do anything else, you need to read them.”
He handed each of them an envelope, then sat down while they read. Nick was the first to finish. “I had no idea,” he said.
“Me neither,” added Jerry in the quietest voice Sam had ever heard him use.
“Why didn't he tell us this when he was alive?” Bill asked.
“I don't know,” Sam said. “But does it matter? You know now.”
The three men nodded. “What happens now?” Nick asked.
“That's up to you,” Sam said. “He wanted us to work together to run this company, not to compete with each other. So what's it going to be?”
The next day Sam boarded his new private jet for the trip home. Everything had been settled, at least for now. As the plane waited it's turn to take off, Sam read his letter again.
“Dear Sam,” it began. “I'm sorry the two of us will never meet. I just don't think it would work. For one thing, there's Sallie. I'm ashamed to say that I'm scared of the old bitch, but there you have it.
“Then there's my boys. I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job of raising them. Each of them