by Donna Hill
Frank reached across the desk to touch her and Victoria leaped back, turning over the chair in the process. Her heart raced and her pulse roared like a raging tide in her ears.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare touch me.” She pointed a finger off accusation at him. “You’re nothing but a filthy liar. You’d do anything to hurt me.” Her voice rose, bordering on hysteria. “How can you expect me to believe you?”
“Victoria, please—you’ve got to believe me.” He came around his desk. Victoria backed away, stumbling over the upturned chair. “I’ve been deceived as well.” His voice pleaded with her to understand. “All these years, I never knew…”
Victoria snatched up her bag and spun away, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. “I won’t listen to you anymore.” She flung open the door and ran down the corridor.
Frank ran as far as the door. “Victoria!”
She kept running even as several office doors opened and the curious poked their heads out at the commotion.
“It’s all right, everyone,” Frank assured, waving them away. “My niece,” he shrugged in explanation.
He returned to his office, shutting the door quietly behind him. For several moments he leaned against it, listening to his heavy breathing, reliving the turmoil of the past hour with Victoria.
He took a long, calming breath, then crossed the room to his desk and picked up the phone, dialing the number from memory.
The phone was answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, Frank. Victoria was just here. I told her—everything.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I think she’s on her way to see you.”
“What can I say to her, Frank?”
“The truth. Finally the truth. She deserves that. We all do.” Before hanging up the phone he added gently, “I’m here if you need me.”
Celeste stood rooted to the spot, the phone clutched against her breasts. She closed her eyes, and silently prayed she’d find the strength and the words to confront what lay ahead.
Victoria drove with a blind vengeance through the streets of Frederick, barely missing cars and darting pedestrians. Her thoughts were out of control. Her whole life had been a lie—one big grotesque lie. And the people whom she should have been able to trust, were the perpetrators of the lie. She felt as if her world were slipping from beneath her feet.
Even with all she’d been told, it was still too impossible to comprehend. Her thoughts were so disjointed she was unable to put the pieces of this bizarre and twisted puzzle together. How deep did Frank’s and Celeste’s betrayal truly go? Did it begin and end with the lie of her birth or was there even more that she was still unaware of?
Celeste, her aunt, her… She shook her head and swatted away the tears that streamed down her face with the back of her hand, streaking black mascara across her cheeks. She would make Celeste Winston tell her the truth if she had to wring it out of her frail body.
Celeste nearly leaped out of her skin when the bell, compounded with the banging on the front door, shattered the silence of the house.
With deliberation, she pushed herself up from the recliner and crossed the room to the front door. Her hand hovered, with uncertainty, over the knob. The bell pealed again, seeming to shimmer down her spine like an icy finger. Briefly she shut her eyes before pulling the door open.
Her breath caught in her throat when she gazed upon the devastation etched across Victoria’s pale face.
“Tell me it isn’t true!” Victoria cried in a tortured voice, her body trembling with each breath she took. “Tell me that you aren’t my mother! Tell me that Frank Murphy is not my father!”
Chapter 20
Reese went back to Maxwell’s office after her interview with R.J., hoping to catch him before his meeting, but he was gone. She strolled across the office toward the window.
Looking beyond the smoggy horizon, she was filled with a sense of unease. There was something not quite right about R.J., but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She shook her head and turned away, wrapping her arms around her body as she retraced her steps to the other side. It was probably her imagination, she concluded, taking a seat and crossing her long legs. With everything else that was going on, she was getting paranoid, seeing skeletons in every closet.
Turning her left wrist, she checked her watch. It was 11:30 a.m. in Chicago. Lynnette should be in her office by now, if she wasn’t out on an assignment. She could kick herself for not calling her friend before she left, but Reese was confident that once she got Lynnette talking everything would be fine.
She dug in her bag, plucked out her calling card, and called the Chicago office.
“Lynn. Hi, it's me.”
Lynnette sucked her teeth long and hard. “Humph, you were supposed to call me. What happened? You get yourself a little bit and forget all about your friends,” she retorted, struggling to contain her mirth.
“Very funny. You know better than that, girl. We’ve been friends for too long. You know I would never let a little good stuff come between us,” she chuckled. “I would have called—if I could have,” she added, her last words full of sexual innuendo.
“You need to stop,” Lynnette laughed “Anyway, whatsup? I know you didn’t call just to apologize.”
“You’re absolutely right. But, I can’t discuss it on this line.”
Lynnette sat up a bit straighter. “What’s going on, Reese?”
Lynnette could be a major asset if Reese was totally candid with her. But on the other hand, Max was right about involving as few people as possible.
“I need your help. But you have to call me from a pay phone and it will be even better if you use one outside of the building.”
“Listen, I like all the cloak and dagger stuff, just as much as the next guy, but you’re making my neck hair tingle.”
“Lynn, just do it—please.”
“All right, all right. What’s the number out there?” Lynnette jotted down the number on an index card and stuck it in her purse. “I’ll take an early lunch and call you in about fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Lynn.” Reese sighed in relief. “I’ll be waiting for your call.” She hung up the phone just as Maxwell stepped through the door.
“Hi, I didn’t expect to find you here.” He walked across the office and dropped an armload of files on his desk, missing the troubling look on Reese’s face. He sat down and briefly shut his eyes, rolling his neck simultaneously. When he opened them, Reese was staring at him. He sat straight up in his chair.
“What’s wrong?”
Reese looked away, then turned the full force of her amber eyes on Maxwell. “How well do you know R.J.?”
Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I have my reasons for asking, Max.”
“Then why don’t you start by telling me your reasons for asking.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him, his movements now unnoticeable.
“I talked with R.J. for almost an hour and I don’t like the feeling I walked away with, Max.” She crossed her slender wrists over her knees. Her voice was gentle but decisive. “I’ve been an investigative journalist for the past eight years. Those years of dealing with all kinds of people, good, bad and indifferent, have taught me what to listen for, how to separate what I hear from what a person is really saying. I think I’m a pretty damned good judge of character.”
“And?” he interjected impatiently.
“And, R.J. means you no good.”
Maxwell instantly pushed away from his desk and stood, his dark eyes like thunderclouds. “First my father, now R.J.,” he growled. “Who next?”
“Listen to me,” she demanded, her own voice taking on a steely edge. “R.J. seems to be under the impression that he’s the force behind M.K. Enterprises and you were just ‘lucky,’ as he put it.”
“What!”
Reese nodded. “I began to feel that he’s extremely j
ealous of you, Max. So much so that it borders on resentment.”
Maxwell shook his head in disbelief. “R.J.? I’ve known him for years. I just can’t…”
“Believe it,” she finished for him. “Are there any plans in the works that I should know about?”
He slanted his almond eyes in her direction. His guard went up. “What do you mean?”
“Is there anything going on that R.J. could…” she searched for the right word “…sabotage?”
His thoughts went immediately to the impending move to the stock market. Everyone on the upper management staff knew the necessity of keeping that information under wraps until the right time. Any deviation from that would ruin everything as well as the person who divulged the information. However, the financial windfall from inside trading was enough to tempt a saint. But R.J…. no, impossible.
“There’s nothing going on of any significance,” he lied. The less she knew the better. If anyone got wind that a reporter knew beforehand about M.K. Enterprise’s plans…well, he didn’t want to think about the ramifications, or what it would do to Reese’s career.
“Fine,” she conceded. Slowly she rose from her seat. Just be careful,” she said gently. “I don’t like the feeling I got, Max. And I’m very rarely wrong.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” he said with a half smile. “Even your reporter’s instinct and your feminine intuition can have a bad day.”
“At the same time?” she tossed back with a self-assured grin. “Highly unlikely.”
Max chuckled. “Touché. In the meantime, Sherlock, where are you going to work?”
“I’d prefer to use your office since you’ll be in meetings all day. And I’m expecting a call from Lynnette shortly. She’ll get me access to the files at the office and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“Then let me get you set up.”
She followed him to the alcove that contained an elaborate computer system built into the wall. Within moments he’d connected her laptop to his office system.
“You’re all set.” He flicked his wrist and checked his watch. He crossed the room, grabbed a stack of folders and placed a quick kiss on her lips. He cupped her chin in his palm. “And if I stand here a moment longer looking into those beautiful eyes of yours, I’ll be late for my next meeting. I should see you in about an hour.”
She tugged the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “Can’t wait,” she breathed in a husky whisper.
“You keep looking at me like that and neither of us will get anything done.” This time his kiss was long, wet and hot, sending waves of current charging through her body. “Stay out of trouble,” he said, his voice low and entreating, before turning and walking out of the door.
Reese stood still for several moments, taking long deep breaths, hoping to shake the erotic sensations that Max had aroused within her. “You got it bad, girl,” she chuckled. “And it sure is good!”
She turned way from the door and moved across the room. Pulling notes from her briefcase she sat, waiting for Lynnette’s phone call.
Maxwell strode down the corridor, his thoughts were on anything but the meeting ahead. He took then exhaled a long breath. Since Reese’s arrival into his life, so much had changed. This was the first time in a very long while that he’d allowed vulnerability to creep into his life and find a haven. For years he’d prided himself on his ability to keep his feelings, his needs, his fears and his doubts tucked neatly away where no one would find them.
He turned down the corridor and stopped in front of the elevator. He simply stared at the doors until the low conversation between a pair of technicians, en route to the lab, prompted him to press the up button.
Reese was slowly beginning to uncover all of the layers, strip by strip. How soon would his soul be bared to her? What would she see? Would she see the dark, secret fear that he’d lived with all of his life? Would she run or would she stay? And better yet, what would he do if she chose either?
Here in the States, he’d learned to deal with who he was, what others thought him to be. He shook his head slowly as the elevator made its ascent. Tokyo would be different. It always was. The slow burn built in his belly.
The light tap on the office door caught Reese right in mid-stroke. She swiveled away from the computer to face the door, just as Carmen stuck her head in.
Reese’s face brightened. “Hi, Carmen. Maxwell left for that meeting already,” she offered.
“Oh, yes I know. There’s a call for you on line two. I wasn’t sure if you’d answer the intercom if I buzzed.”
“Oh…thank you. I should have told you I was expecting a call.”
“No problem,” Carmen smiled, slipping back out.
Reese crossed the room and pressed the flashing light on the phone.
“Lynn?”
“Who else? Now what’s going on?”
“First, you’ve got to promise not to ask any questions.” Reese heard the quick intake of breath that was the preamble to a Lynnette monologue. She rushed on not giving her a chance to interject. “Second, you are not to mention this to anyone. Third, I need you to get me access to our mainframe library. I’m pretty much set up here.”
“What are you involved in, Reese?” she pressed, completely ignoring the first directive.
Reese smiled. “Let’s just say that this story is taking on bigger dimensions than I anticipated. And that’s all I can say for now. But,” she added, “I promise to tell you as much as I can when I get back to Chicago.”
“Believe me, I’m gonna hold you to that.” She took a breath. “All right. Stay put. I should have you connected within the hour.”
“Thanks, Lynn.”
“And Reese…”
“Yes?”
“Be careful, girl.”
Reese instinctively knew that those few simple words said so much more, a true testament to their friendship.
“I will. I promise.”
Chapter 21
Celeste’s heart hammered painfully in her chest as she stared immobilized by the intensity that radiated outward from Victoria’s stricken face. Accusation, outrage and a palpable agony raced like a torrential rain across her features.
Finally, Celeste found her voice. “Come in, Victoria,” she said quietly, stepping aside to let her brush past.
With slow deliberation, Celeste followed Victoria into the living room. Victoria swung around to confront her, her eyes blazing and red-rimmed.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Celeste offered, struggling to contain the tremors that scuttled up and down her body.
For a moment, Victoria was taken aback by the fragility of Celeste, but her own concerns were so consuming she immediately cast the observation aside. “I’d rather stand,” she spewed.
Celeste pressed her lips together and nodded. She took a seat in her recliner and folded her hands in front of her, almost in prayer.
“Are you going to answer me?” Victoria demanded, pacing the floor, her strawberry blond hair fanning out around her.
Countless explanations tumbled through Celeste’s mind at once. Reasons. Excuses. She knew in that instant that she had it within her power to change the course of so many lives, but nothing could reverse what had been done. No words. No acts of attrition. She stood precariously on the precipice of indecision.
“Answer me! Is what Uncle—” her vehemence momentarily faltered “—Frank said true?”
Celeste pushed down the last of her doubts. She looked directly into Victoria’s green eyes. “No,” she stated, clear and emphatic.
Victoria seemed to crumble before her eyes as she dropped, as if in slow motion, into the nearest seat. She sucked on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, but she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. She balled them into fists on her lap.
Through tear-filled eyes of confusion she looked across the short space at her aunt. “Why?” she croaked. “Why would he tell me something like that? Why?”
Celeste took
a long breath. “Your Uncle Frank is a very bitter and lonely man,” she began, gulping down the bile of her lie. “He wanted to hurt me through you, for not loving him.” She paused, then looked off toward the window. “It all started a very long time ago…”
Reese paced the office waiting for Maxwell’s return. Running through her veins was a combination of excitement and dread of the unknown. She’d always felt that rush of adrenaline whenever she was on the threshold of uncovering new information. It was like food for her soul.
Ever since she began putting the pieces of her life back together, after her parents’ deaths, she’d been obsessed about the truth. For the past fifteen years there remained a hidden part of her that believed there was so much more to what happened to her parents than the reports and what her aunt grudgingly told her.
Aunt Celeste. If any piece of her nightmare held any validity, it would explain why her aunt resented her so much. She was in love with her father, and from the few pictures she’d seen of her mother, Sharlene, Reese could have been her twin.
Reese shook her head and sighed heavily, crossing the room to stare out of the window. Miles of gently swaying palms greeted her. It was curious to her that her mother and her aunt didn’t resemble each other in the least. On all counts, they were direct opposites; from height to disposition to complexion. Night and day, she mused reflectively. She’d never thought too much about the disparities until that moment. Everyone knew the African-American race had been diluted with so many other ethnicities that there were all types of deviations, even within the same family. It was quite possible for two dark-skinned parents to give birth to a high-yellow child with light eyes. Those were some of the nuances that made the African-American people so unique, the gamut of the hues they encompassed.
Yet, knowing these things did not quite settle the stirrings of something deeper within her. Every gut instinct told her it was more than just a color thing between her mother and her aunt. But not knowing her grandparents, she’d never questioned the dissimilarities between the two striking women. At least, she ruminated ruefully, if she did ever ask, she didn’t remember the answer.