by Jan Burke
“Me too,” a voice said behind Warren, startling him. He turned to see Mitch Yeager.
He wondered how long Yeager had been standing there. He managed to say, “You’ll have to let me know if he does.”
“Come and sit down — you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Warren laughed. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Just don’t like to be in crowds anymore.” It was something Yeager knew to be true of him. He saw Yeager’s expression clear, so he added, “I really can’t stay.”
“No? Why is that?”
“I’ve got to meet with Auburn Sheffield this afternoon.”
Yeager frowned. Mention of Warren’s arrangements with Auburn never failed to irritate — and distract him. “I’ll never understand what made you give that old geezer so much control of your money. I could have helped you do much better with it, and you wouldn’t have to live like some beggar in the meantime. You sure you can’t get out of that deal?”
“Not a chance,” Warren said. Zeke Brennan had made sure that Yeager could never pry him out of the agreement. Warren shrugged helplessly, and again used the truth to distract Yeager. “I never was smart about money. That’s why I went to Sheffield. And you said … I knew you didn’t want contact with me.”
Yeager looked quickly around him, then said in a low, angry voice, “Watch what you say and where you say it, Warren.”
“Sorry.”
“Try not to be such a stupid ass all the time.”
Warren was pleased to make his escape shortly after receiving that bit of advice.
Warren had cleaned that part of the story up a bit when telling it today. His mother had once hinted to him that Lillian Vanderveer Linworth had run wild as a young woman, but you’d never believe it now. Now she was the picture of sophistication and restraint. He wondered if Katy would have matured in the same way. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine it.
She heard him out, then said, “Do I understand you to say that you believe Kyle Yeager is Todd and Katy’s son — that he is really Max Ducane?”
“Yes.”
“Warren, that’s impossible. He was adopted before Max was taken.”
Warren looked over to Auburn.
“I was as skeptical as you, Lillian,” Auburn said, “at first.”
“At first…?”
“The adoption records are sealed, of course,” Zeke Brennan said, “and discreet inquiries by an investigator who works for us have led me to believe there is little chance of proving any of Mr. Ducane’s suspicions in a court of law.” He paused. “All the same, we were able to learn a few things.”
“Things that led me to believe Warren hadn’t just been imagining a resemblance to Todd,” Auburn said. “One was that the judge who approved the adoption had long been suspected of being — let’s say, indebted to Mitch Yeager and his associates. Another was that no one — absolutely no one — other than a few of Mitch Yeager’s closest henchmen claims to have seen the child until after Max was taken. Strangely, all of the Yeagers’ servants were given a paid leave of two months — something Yeager had never done in the past. Yeager claimed it was to allow time for his new family to become acquainted, but rumor has it that when the servants returned, there were plenty of adjustments still going on.”
“Even natural parents may need more than two months to adjust to a new infant in the house,” Lillian said.
“Yes,” Auburn agreed. “But Mrs. Yeager, who had supposedly taken care of the child during those months, suddenly did not know how to manage his care — a nursemaid was hired in January.”
“Forgive me, I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, especially of someone who was once a friend. But the truth is, Estelle was one of the biggest lushes in town. It could be that Mitch finally had to accept the fact that a drunk shouldn’t be the only one caring for his son.”
“You misremember that bit of history, I think,” Auburn said. “If you think back, I believe you’ll realize that Estelle was just starting to drink around the time when Kyle started preschool.”
Lillian shrugged. “It makes no difference to anyone now.”
“Have you ever met Kyle Yeager?” Warren asked.
“No, I don’t know the boy.”
“It isn’t surprising that you haven’t met him,” Auburn said. “Mitch has never introduced his adopted son into local society. He was sent away to boarding school at the age of nine, and the moment he graduated, packed off to New Hampshire — to Dartmouth. He wasn’t brought home for holidays or vacations. I know a few people who met him briefly at Estelle’s funeral — he was only eleven when she died. Why did Mitch hide him away?”
“Mitch started a new family not long after that,” Lillian said reasonably. “Not everyone can manage to make a new wife comfortable with the children of a first marriage.”
“Mitch and his son have been at odds for years now, Lillian.”
“Where have you been, Auburn? It’s called the generation gap.‘Don’t trust anyone over thirty,’ remember? Even that’s a little dated, I suppose. Now it’s the Alliance for Survival telling them to ‘question authority.’”
“Perhaps that’s all it is. Perhaps it’s the natural set of differences between child and parent. However, when you see Kyle, I think you’ll better understand why Warren and Zeke and I feel as we do.”
“Does he really look so much like Todd?”
“No. Nor does he look exactly like a male version of Katy. But there is something of each of them in him, I’d say.”
“Auburn,” she said, her voice a shade more brittle than before, “what you have offered as proof is hardly enough to justify the sort of accusation that goes hand in hand with this… this notion of Warren’s. You’re saying, then, that Mitch arranged the murder of the nursemaid? That he kidnapped my grandchild? It makes no sense. Why would he do such a thing? He has the resources to adopt any number of children. Why would he go to such lengths?”
“You will forgive me for asking this, Lillian, but isn’t it true that you were once close to Mitch?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “Shall I name a few of your youthful follies now, Auburn?”
He raised a hand, in the gesture of a fencer acknowledging a hit. “That won’t be necessary — we haven’t got all day.”
“Indeed not. Now…”
“Your pardon, Lillian. I only bring up your ties to Mitch Yeager because I know that he never forgives anything he perceives to be an injury or an insult.”
“I’m fully aware of Mitch’s ability to hold a grudge.”
For a moment, Warren saw what he thought was another small change in her composure — as if she had briefly reminisced and found the reminiscence unpleasant.
Then she looked directly at Warren and said, “Auburn is right, Mitch doesn’t forgive easily. Mitch had a high school crush on me. I don’t think I meant much to him at all — certainly not enough to bring him to murder anyone or kidnap a child decades after our little teenage romance had soured. Your accusations, however, were they to become known, would displease him to a degree that might lead him to respond in ways … well, in ways I don’t like to contemplate.”
“By the time he learns of my plans,” Warren said, “I’ll be beyond his reach.”
She studied him for a moment, then said, “And so your plans include leaving me here to deal with his wrath? He’s very touchy about his reputation these days.”
“No. I’m not asking you to be involved in this in any way. I just wanted you to know… in advance. I didn’t want my plans to come as a shock to you.”
“Exactly what are your plans, Warren?”
But before he could answer, the intercom in the conference room buzzed. Zeke Brennan answered it and said, “Yes, please show Mr. Yeager in.”
22
AUBURN SHEFFIELD HEARD THE SOFT, SUDDEN INTAKE OF LILLIAN’S BREATH as a young man wearing a suit and tie entered the room. Her reaction to Kyle Yeager was unhidden for only the briefest moment, as (knowing Lillian) Auburn h
ad anticipated it would be. He looked down at the stack of papers on the table before him to hide a smile while the introductions were made.
When he looked up again, Kyle was saying, “Yes, of course we’ve met. Good afternoon, Mr. Sheffield.”
He was tall and had an almost military bearing, shoulders and back straight. Equally unusual in young men of his age, his dark hair was cut short. His brown eyes reminded Auburn of Katy, although he could not imagine that hers were ever so solemn. He could not say that the rest of his features strongly resembled those of either parent — or as Auburn reminded himself, of the people he assumed were Kyle’s parents — but he had not known Todd well. Warren believed Kyle’s smile was nearly identical to Todd’s. Auburn wondered if Warren had seen that smile since Kyle was five.
Kyle waited politely for Lillian to be seated before he took a seat himself.
Zeke Brennan spoke first. He thanked Kyle for coming and asked if he had been able to find the time to read the photocopied newspaper articles he had been given when Auburn visited him in Hanover.
“Yes, sir.” He glanced uneasily at Lillian and Warren. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That must have been a horrible time for both of you.”
Warren looked away, but Lillian said, “Thank you. Yes, it was terrible.”
“About sixteen years ago,” Zeke said, “Mr. Ducane set up a trust. The trust came about in a rather unusual way, and its conditions are also unusual.” Zeke paused. “At that time, Mr. Ducane met a young boy whom he believed to be his nephew, Max Ducane.”
“Sixteen years ago? Oh.” He looked hopefully toward Lillian. “So — the kidnapper was caught?”
“It’s not quite so simple, I’m afraid,” Lillian said kindly.
Warren started to speak, but Zeke intervened, motioning to him to wait. “At the time he saw the boy, it was, for various reasons, impossible for him to prove his belief that the boy was his missing nephew. But he made arrangements so that when the boy reached adulthood, he would be eligible to receive a substantial sum of money. There would be two conditions that the boy — now a young man — would need to meet. He would be required to sever ties with his adopted family and to legally change his name to Maxwell Ducane.”
Auburn watched Lillian and saw her surprise. Kyle, however, seemed no more than politely interested, and waited for Zeke to go on. But it was Warren who broke the silence.
“The boy I met was you, Kyle,” he said.
“Me?” He laughed uneasily. “No…”
“Yes. You are my nephew.” He said it with sureness.
“Mr. Ducane, I … I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you, but I don’t really understand how that can be possible. My adoptive father and mother told me many times that…” He lowered his head, then murmured, “They both told me many times that my mother was a prostitute. My father was one of her customers. So unless your brother…” He glanced up at Lillian, blushed, and turned to Zeke as he said, “No, I’m sure he didn’t. There are adoption papers. I have always felt grateful, because if I hadn’t been adopted by the Yeagers, I probably wouldn’t have survived. My birth mother died two months after I was born, and I probably would have died with her. Instead, I was raised by a wealthy couple, had the love of my adoptive mother, and received privileges no person of my birth could have dreamed of having.”
“Are you fond of Mitch Yeager?” Auburn asked.
Kyle gave him a fierce look, then answered, “What does that have to do with anything? He took me in. Fed and clothed me. Paid for my education.”
“My God,” Lillian said softly.
“I don’t claim that there is any affection between us,” Kyle said. “I am sure I was adopted because my mother — Estelle, I mean — wanted a child so badly. I loved her, and I have no doubt that she loved me.”
“Mitch Yeager abused her,” Auburn said. “And before Estelle had been dead a month, he married a woman thirty years his junior and soon fathered three children with his new wife. He did all he could to forget your existence. You don’t owe anything to Mitch, not on your own behalf, and certainly not on Estelle’s.”
Kyle looked as if he would object, then seemed to change his mind. His fists clenched, then opened. He said, “Whatever you may know or not know about my mother — I respect her memory, so I’m not going to share gossip about her or her husband with you.”
“I meant no disrespect to her,” Auburn said. “But I do know that she felt trapped in her marriage. She didn’t believe she had the means to escape it, but I think she might have been pleased to know that someone offered you a chance to separate yourself from Mitch Yeager. And twenty million dollars ought to allow you to cut the ties.”
“Twenty million!”
“That’s part of it,” Warren said. “Twenty million, as well as some real property worth—”
But he had recovered his composure. “As … as tempting as that offer is… and as sorry as I am that your nephew was taken from you, I’m afraid I’ll say no.”
“Kyle…”
“No, Mr. Ducane,” he said angrily. “My birth mother may have been for sale, but I’m not.” He stood up and said to Lillian, “If you’ll excuse me, ma’am—”
“Kyle,” she said, “are you in a hurry to return to Hanover?”
“No, but…”
“I take it you aren’t staying with Mitch?”
“No. Mr. Brennan arranged a hotel room for me here in town.”
“I wonder if you might have dinner with me this evening, at my home.”
“If you’re trying to convince me—”
“No, I knew no more about any of this than you did. But I am planning a small dinner party — nothing fancy, mind you — and would love to get to know you a little better before you head back home again. And I have a few photographs of Estelle that I would like to give to you. But if you have other plans…”
“No, I don’t.”He studied her for a moment, then said, “Forgive me for asking, but do you really have photos of her?”
“Yes. We went to school together.”
He looked around the room. “Are these gentlemen invited as well?”
“Only if they promise not to say a word to you about Warren’s offer.”
Warren raised a hand as if taking an oath. “Not a word.”
“And they must agree to allow us time to ourselves.”
“A promise,” Auburn said.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Linworth,” Zeke Brennan said, “but I’m afraid I have a previous engagement.”
“Another time, then, Mr. Brennan. And you, Kyle?”
“All right,” Kyle said. “Yes, thank you — what time shall I be there?”
“Let’s say seven. No need to dress up — would that be all right with you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Fine. Auburn can give you a lift from your hotel, and I’ll have my driver bring you home whenever you decide to leave. I’ll see you all at seven.”
She rose, and the men did as well. She left the room.
Kyle stared after her.
Auburn laughed. “Lillian has always been a force to be reckoned with, Kyle.”
Kyle smiled. “I can see that.” He turned to Warren and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. Your offer is very generous, but I’m just not comfortable taking it.”
Warren shrugged. “I won’t force it on you, but I’d appreciate it if you’d give yourself a few days to decide anything definite.” He raised his hands, palms out, as if in surrender. “I won’t say more about it unless you tell me you want to talk about it again.”
“All right. I’ll think about it, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Deal?”
“Deal. See you this evening.”
Zeke Brennan showed Kyle out.
When they had left the room, Warren sat down with a sigh. “Thank God Lillian was here, or I don’t think he’d have anything more to do with us.”
“Yes,” Auburn said. “And if I were you, Warren, I’d search thr
ough your mother’s scrapbooks to see if she took any photos of Estelle. It won’t hurt for you to have a few offerings of your own.”
The moment she was home, Lillian called Helen Corrigan.
“Swanie, it’s Lil. Look, I have an emergency on my hands and I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just need you to see someone. Long story, which I’ll tell you this evening. You’re coming to dinner here at seven — dress casually. And bring Conn — warn him this is not for the newspaper, all right?”
“Okay, Miss Mysterious.”
“Miss — oh! Helen, you’re a genius.”
“I am, am I?”
“Well, I think so. Know a good-looking single young woman who might be able to join us? No hussies — someone sharp, who has the ability to converse. You must have met someone with half a brain during all those years of teaching.”
Helen laughed. “Good grief, Lil.”
“I’m serious.”
“All right. Let’s see…” There was another laugh, and she said, “If she can make it, I’ve got the perfect candidate.”
“Swanie, I’ve known you too long. I know that laugh. You’re up to mischief.”
“I just want to give Conn a challenge. But don’t worry. I’m bringing someone you’ll adore. But you have to be the one to invite Conn, and don’t tell him that I’m bringing anyone else along with me, all right?”
“Helen…”
“Lillian, I promise I’ll keep these two pups of mine in line.”
“Is she a newspaperwoman?”
“Yes.”
Lillian sighed. “And she won’t write about this evening?”
“No. Have I ever let you down?”
Lillian’s voice softened. “Oh, Helen, forgive me — I’m in a tizzy. No, you’ve never let me down, which is why I always end up coming to you when I’m in a fix. See you at seven.”
23
EVEN BEFORE THE DINNER DEBACLE, THE OLD FART WAS MAKING ME crazy.
Dinner Debacle. Men’s Room Incident. Byline Blowup. I was starting to think of my life in the newsroom as a series of B-movie titles.