A Dizzying Balance

by Harriet E Rich

  The man introduced himself as Lieutenant Talbot as he stepped in and closed the door. “I’m sorry to bother you so soon, Miss Colson, but the doctors insisted that I not interview you in the hospital. I have a few loose ends to tie up regarding the explosion.”

  “Explosion?”

  “The cabin. Oh, Mr. Kenting, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Jen turned quickly to see David walking down the hall toward them. He was impeccably dressed and moved with easy grace, but his polite social smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Lieutenant, I see you’ve met my wife.” The men shook hands. “Jennette, the lieutenant needs to ask you a few questions about the accident at the cabin. Shall we talk in here?” He opened a door to her left.

  It was a long, oddly shaped living room that filled this corner of the central part of the house and continued in a curve into the left-hand wing. Jen sat on one of the couches as David settled into an armchair.

  Please sit down, Lieutenant.” He waved at another chair. “Have you learned anything new?”

  “Yes, sir, there have been a few developments and one very important fact has come to light, but before we go into that, I’d like to ask Miss Colson if she can tell me anything about the incident.”

  Jen looked at him hesitantly. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve read the news reports about your temporary amnesia, Miss Colson, and I do apologize for these questions but two weeks ago, the cabin on the hill behind the house was destroyed in an explosion. I understand that you were here that night and I was hoping that you would remember something – anything – that could assist with our investigation.”

  “What kind of explosion?”

  “Something went wrong with the heater. The cabin filled with gas and the spark of a chiming clock over the mantel triggered the blast. Did you go up to the cabin?”

  Jen closed her eyes. She could almost smell the gas, almost feel the heat of the fire. She lifted her hand to massage her temple, trying to think. “It must have been terrible,” she said weakly, “and I’d like to help, but I can’t remember anything at all. I was here?”

  “You were supposed to be, my dear,” David said smoothly, “but when we couldn’t find you and your car was also gone, we assumed that you’d left early for your – business trip.”

  Jen shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

  “Well, ma’am, if you remember anything important, please get in touch with us.”

  She nodded and David took over.

  “Lieutenant, you mentioned that you’ve learned something new?”

  “Yes, sir. As you know, we recovered most of the pieces of the heater from the wreckage and the lab report finally came back. It’s been determined that the valve on the gas jet was faulty.”

  “Faulty?”

  “Something was wrong with the cut-off switch and it apparently failed.”

  “It was an old heater. We should have had it replaced long ago.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “These things do occur. It was lucky that no one was in the cabin at the time. If, as you say, Miss Colson left the estate before the explosion, I doubt she will be able to add anything even when her memory of the last several weeks returns. But I did want to talk to you, ma’am, before I completed my investigation.” He stood up. “We’re ruling it an accident.”

  “Then the case will be closed.” David also stood, giving Jen his hand to help her to her feet. “I’m relieved to hear that. We’ll walk you out.”

  David opened the front door and stood beside Jen, his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for all your hard work, Lieutenant Talbot,” he smiled. “Jennette and I are pleased to know that it’s finally over.”

  “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help.” She also tried to smile, very aware of the warmth of David’s hand on her arm. “If I do remember anything … anything important, I’ll call you.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “As soon as the official police report is completed, a copy will be available for your insurance, Mr. Kenting.”

  The car drove out of the parking area and David dropped his arm from her shoulder to close the door. His pleasant smile was gone as if it had never been. “Thank God, that’s finished. I’m going upstairs.” He turned his back on her and left her standing there.

  Jen watched him walk away, her arm where his hand had been suddenly cold. She stayed by the door breathing deeply for a moment. The glossy parquet of the entry stretched the entire depth of the house from the front where she stood to glass doors at the back. Through the doors she could see a broad terrace and beyond it, a lovely rose garden. The sun was shining invitingly on the colorful flowers, and she was drawn toward them but at the foot of the stairs, her head swam as exhaustion swept over her, leaving her weak and trembling. She clutched the flat circle of wood at the end of the banister’s smooth sweeping curve until the unpleasant lightheaded feeling receded. She had to lie down, had to rest.

  The staircase went up the left-hand wall of the high two-story entry to the second floor, forming a railed bridge that crossed into the right wing of the house, but David had turned left. It was a long way up the stairs, and she leaned heavily on the banister as she climbed. Hearing voices, she moved slowly around the corner.

  Thelma was saying, “Mr. Stevens called to say he’ll be here at six-thirty, and dinner will be at seven.” As the housekeeper disappeared down a side stairway to the right, David stepped back into his room, closing the door.

  Jen walked down the hall. Not knowing what to do, she hesitated, then sighed and knocked softly. Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and entered.

  “What are you doing in here?” His words were like a hard slap and she stopped, confused and uncertain.

  “I’m sorry but I didn’t know if … that is, isn’t this …” She stumbled to a halt and felt her cheeks flush. “I mean … where do I sleep?”

  He gave her a look of distain. “Outside of this house, I neither know nor care. Within this house, this is my room. You do not sleep here. Go to your own room.”

  Tears sprang unbidden and unwanted to her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. “My own room? But … but … I don’t know where it is,” she finished with what dignity she could muster.

  “Ah, of course, I’d forgotten your – amnesia.” As he moved toward her, she retreated backward across the threshold. “Down the hall to the left,” he said. “Last door on the right. Now go away.”

  Before she could speak, the door was closed between them.

  Feeling more tears sting her eyes, she followed the wide arc of the wing and once she was inside her room with her own door closed, she sat wearily on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Jennette,” she whispered. “What did you do to him? What happened?” She had no idea. But she couldn’t think about it. Her head ached, her shoulder was on fire and she had to rest. She knew that dinner would be a trial. Kicking off her shoes, she lay back on the lacy pillow.

  The knot of tension in her stomach that had been with her all day loosened a little. “It’s a pretty room,” she murmured as her eyes closed. “Just the sort of room an actress should have.”

  * * *

  It was after six. She had slept longer than she’d intended, and she hurried across the room to open what she guessed was the bathroom door only to discover it was a huge walk-in closet lined with rows of hanging clothes, racks of shoes and shelves of hatboxes, purses, scarves and shawls. The lower half of the end wall was drawers, the upper half cupboards, and to the left, a door opened into a mirrored dressing room. Beyond that was the bathroom and from the bathroom, another door led back into the bedroom.

  “Rather a neat arrangement,” she said aloud, smiling at the slight echo from the tiled walls.

  There was no time for a shower, so she simply washed, brushed her hair and freshened her make-up. When she’d finished, she made sure that the bandage was secure across her nose and cheeks. Then selecting a simple blue silk dress,
she changed into it, tightened its belt at her waist, and slipped into a pair of sandal heels to buckle the straps around her ankles. It seemed as though it had been ages since she’d worn heels and she wobbled a bit, standing in front of the mirror and smiling a little crookedly at her image. “Just nerves, Jennette. Take a pain pill, put your sling back on and go to dinner. I think you’re actually hungry.”

  Walking from her room, she followed the hallway to the bridge, her feet sinking noiselessly into the thick carpet. From the bridge, she looked down to the left to see that the two-story back wall was almost entirely glass with a view of the terrace and rose garden beyond. To the right and down was the front door. There was no one in the entryway when she reached the foot of the stairs, but she could hear voices through the living room’s partially opened door.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Brad, I just don’t know.” Brad? She listened as David continued. “The deal will fall through without her consent. I should never have given her the stock. We need that nine per cent.”

  “Or the six per cent she controls in the trust.”

  “Yes, one or the other.”

  “Well, you’ve got to win her around, so you’d better take my advice: it’s time for honey, not vinegar.” He paused. “And speaking of vinegar, how’s Adelia?”

  David laughed. “Looking forward to seeing you, you old goat. She won’t be down for dinner tonight, so you’ll have to go up to her before you leave.”

  Jen pushed the door open and stepped into the room to see a smartly dressed man in his fifties by the fireplace. His hair was dark and as he turned, she saw grey at the temples, but his tanned and handsome face was completely unfamiliar. Nevertheless, his eyes brightened when he saw her. “Jennette!” He crossed the room toward her. “Jen, my dear, you don’t know how happy I am to see you alive and well.”

  As he reached to give her a hug, she moved back out of reach. Her frightened eyes flew to David’s face only to find him watching her intently. “David, I …”

  His eyes held hers for a moment, then he shrugged and stood up. “It seems I must introduce you. Jennette, this is Brad Stevens, a long-time family friend and an attorney of some repute. Brad handles all our legal affairs.”

  “How do you do, Mr. Stevens.” She reached to shake his hand, then stopped, confused. “Do I call you Brad? I must, I guess, if David does. I’m sorry but I can’t remember.”

  “David told me about your amnesia,” Brad was surprised, “but it doesn’t seem possible that you don’t remember me, Jennette.”

  “No, it doesn’t, does it?” said David.

  Jen heard the ironic undertone in his voice as he sat back down and hoped that Brad hadn’t. “You’re our personal attorney, Mr. – that is, Brad?”

  “And also for Kenting Industries.” He saw her blank look. “The construction firm that David’s great-grandfather started –” he stopped again, shaking his head. “It feels so strange to be explaining this to you.”

  “No, please, go on. There’s so much I don’t know that I feel quite helpless. Please, tell me.”

  “All right.” Escorting her to the couch, he went to stand by the fireplace again. “As I was saying, Donald Kenting started the firm in the early part of the twentieth century, and he and his son Dennis built it up into quite a going concern. The central part of this house was built in 1911, but they had extensive renovations done to it, and the wings were added, in the mid-thirties when labor and materials were cheap.”

  “Although I haven’t yet seen much of it, it’s a beautiful building.”

  “Haven’t seen much?” He laughed. “I can’t get used to this.” Then seeing the distress on her face, he added quickly, “I’m sorry, my dear, that was thoughtless of me. You can explore the house tomorrow and perhaps you’ll begin to recognize it.” He smiled warmly and continued. “At first, the company was only a construction firm but during and after the war, Dennis expanded it, adding other related types of businesses. When Daniel, David’s father, took over in the seventies, he continued the expansion. We have subsidiaries here in the States and in Central and South America that make many of the building products and some of the equipment that we use on our various projects.”

  Mrs. Grider was at the door and David interrupted. “Shall we go in to dinner?”

  The housekeeper walked ahead as they crossed the entryway to the dining room, and Jen watched her leave through a door on the other side of the room. Three places were set at the gleaming wood table, one to the left and one at either end. She hesitated, then walked to the end nearest her. “This should be … this is …?” She looked the question at David, but it was Brad who hurried to pull out her chair.

  “Did you remember, Jennette?” he asked as he helped her to sit.

  She shook her head. “It just seemed logical. If that’s the way to the kitchen,” she pointed, “then the hostess … then I … should sit facing it.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with your logic.” Brad smiled.

  “No,” she replied with a small shrug. “Just my memory.”

  The men sat down and there was silence as Thelma came in with a tray of salads. When she’d served them, she went out again, closing the door behind her.

  “Does Thelma know about my amnesia?” Jen took a bite of crisp lettuce. “I mean the full extent of it?”

  “Oh, yes,” Brad answered. “David has told Adelia and there have never been any secrets between Thelma and her.”

  “Who’s Adelia?”

  David frowned at Jen’s question, but Brad was clearly amused.

  “If only I could have forgotten my mother-in-law so easily,” he chuckled.

  “Oh! I’m sorry, I …”

  Seeing David’s frown, Brad lifted an eyebrow. “Lighten up a little. We don’t want to spoil Jennette’s first night home, do we?”

  She saw the look pass between them and watched down the length of the table as David’s face relaxed for the first time.

  “Of course not. Let’s eat,” he smiled, “before the salad gets cold.”

  Laughing, Brad picked up his fork. As they ate, he told Jen how the family corporation had continued to grow through the years.

  When Thelma placed her dinner plate in front of her, Jen stared at it in dismay. No one had remembered, or cared, that her arm was still in a sling. The lamb chop looked delicious, but there was no way she could use a knife one-handed. And I’m damned, she swore to herself, if I’ll ask anyone to cut it up for me! She pushed it aside with her fork and ate the vegetables while Brad described a number of the projects that the company had built. He finished by telling her where the various subsidiaries were located.

  “Our latest acquisition is a hardwood mill in Oregon. It was small when we bought it, but we’re in the process of adding on a larger mill and a plywood factory.”

  “It all sounds very interesting,” Jen said.

  “Are you interested?” Brad turned to David. “Now would be a good time to explain the Grass Valley plan.”

  David hesitated, then nodded. “Years ago, my great-grandfather bought a very large piece of land up in the hills east of Sacramento. It backs against a state forest but was privately owned. Land wasn’t at all expensive then, especially undeveloped land, and he bought it free and clear. In his will, he made it part of the assets of the corporation.

  “For decades, the land has increased in value but so have the property taxes. Recently we began negotiations with a new client that wants to build an office complex with shops and restaurants. The land would make an ideal location for the project, and if the client agrees to build on it, Kenting Industries stands to make a great deal of money. We’ll not only profit by organizing, supervising, and providing materials and labor for the construction but also from the sale of the land at its current market price. The client needs more time to look over the plans, so we’ve rescheduled our board meeting for late June.”

  Jen tried to picture what the finished project would loo
k like. “But, David, if the land has been a forest for so long, it seems a shame to cut it down for buildings and parking lots.”

  She looked up to see that he had stiffened and was scowling. “Jennette, I really don’t –”

  But Brad cut in quickly. “If we’ve finished eating, I should go and say hello to Adelia.”

  David stood up. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Yes,” Jen agreed. “I’m tired and my shoulder is hurting.”

  Brad helped her with her chair, and she walked out into the hall. She could hear the two men talking softly in the dining room as she started up the stairs and as she reached the top, she looked around to see that they had come up behind her.

  “Good night, Jennette.” Brad kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Good night.”

  “Tell Mother I’ll be there in a moment,” said David.

  Brad walked over the bridge and Jen was moving away when David stopped her, his hand on her arm. “Wait, Jennette, please,” he said quietly. With a smile, he continued. “I know this has all been very difficult for you and I haven’t made it any easier. I’d like to apologize for the way I acted this afternoon. For what I said to you. It was unkind.”

  “Unkind, David? Not perhaps the word I would have chosen.” She looked up trying to read his expression, trying to understand this man she didn’t know, but the pain was building behind her eyes. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. If you don’t mind, I’ll say good night.”

  He hesitated as if to add something, then simply smiled again, squeezing her arm gently, and turned to follow Brad into the other wing.

  Walking toward her bedroom, she sighed. He had taken Brad’s advice for here was the honey, but was he really done with the vinegar? Somehow, she didn’t think so.

  Chapter Six

  She was driving the Jaguar, struggling to keep it on the road, but the wheel … blinding lights … tearing metal … pain …