Freefall

by RaeAnne Thayne

  "I don't think so."

  Before she could react, he grabbed her arms and kissed her, his mouth hot and moist on hers. She writhed and struggled to escape but he was far stronger.

  Fear flickered to life as she finally realized she might really be in danger here. Once when she was twelve or thirteen, one of Sharon's boyfriends had tried to touch her but she had been quick and wiry. She had kneed him in a particularly tender portion of his anatomy and threatened to string him up by the same body part if he ever tried to touch her again or even thought about trying the same thing with her sister.

  That was the one time she remembered Sharon acting like a mother. Though Sophie had begged her not to, Shelly had gone straight to Sharon with the story of what the man had done. To her complete surprise, Sharon had been livid. She called the police to report the bastard and a week later they'd moved three states away.

  A young, healthy man was much harder to fight off than a middle-aged, half-drunk trucker, she discovered. But Sophie had spent her childhood in rough neighborhoods where a little knowledge of street-fighting was a matter of survival.

  As soon as she found an opening, she threw an elbow into his gut with enough force that his breath whooshed out of him and his hold on her loosened slightly, just enough that she was able to step away, her own breathing coming in quick gasps.

  "How could you do that? You really want me to tell Shelly you attacked me when your daughter wasn't even two weeks old?"

  "You won't tell her anything," he said, and she fought the urge to slap that smirk right off his face. "Because if you breathe one word of this, I'll tell her you came on to me."

  "She won't believe you. Shelly knows I would never do something like that to her."

  "My darling wife believes anything I tell her."

  Her nausea returned. She hated the doubt curling through her. He might be right—Shelly was completely enamored of her wealthy, handsome husband. She very well might believe what he told her over what her own sister said. Sophie couldn't tell her sister any of this, she realized.

  If she did believe her husband had attacked her sister, Shelly would be devastated. Utterly destroyed.

  "Fine. We'll both forget this ever happened."

  She headed for the door but again he stopped her. "I don't want to forget," he murmured. This time he backed her against the wall, his arms holding hers immobile and his body a brutally effective barrier to any of her attempts to escape.

  Panic and helplessness welled up inside her as she struggled with him but his mouth and his hands seemed to be everywhere. Through the haze of pain and fear, she heard a rending, popping sound and realized he'd ripped the buttons from her shirt.

  A low scream erupted from her as she fought to cover herself, to keep his hands away from her. An instant later, the door swung open and William Canfield stood in the doorway.

  "What is going on in here?"

  "Just having a little fun, Dad. Close the door on your way out."

  "Don't listen to him," Sophie gasped on a sob, trying to hold the tattered remnants of her shirt together. "Your son tried to rape me!"

  The moment the words were out, Sophie realized uttering them had been a huge mistake. Colossal. William's already stiff face turned to ice. The look he gave her was so full of venomous hatred it would have given her shivers if she hadn't already been trembling.

  He took in her swollen lips and her shaking hands then looked at his son. "Peter. Leave us."

  Peter opened his mouth to argue but something in his father's expression stopped him. After a pause, he walked out, closing the door to the library behind him.

  As soon as he was gone, William turned to her. She almost thought she would have preferred Peter's unwanted touches to the deadly expression in William's eyes. "If I ever hear so much as a whisper of that kind of false allegation coming out of your mouth again, make no mistake, young lady. I will make you very, very sorry."

  She swallowed hard at his fury. "It's not a false allegation. Your son tried to rape me. You saw me trying to fight him off!"

  "I saw nothing of the sort. I saw a cheap slut trying to seduce her sister's husband."

  Her insides went as cold as his eyes. "It wasn't like that. You know it wasn't."

  "One brother wasn't enough for a whore like you? You had to seduce them both?"

  What kind of family had Shelly married into? she wondered, teetering close to the edge of hysteria. "I didn't seduce anyone," she mumbled, wanting only to get away from him and from Peter and from Seal Point.

  "I want you out of this house and I want you to stay away from my son."

  "Don't worry," she snapped. "Your precious Peter is safe from me and my wanton behavior."

  "The other one. Thomas. Leave him alone. I will not let the white-trash Beaumont sisters completely ruin this family. Your sister already trapped one of my sons into marriage by refusing to have an abortion after she foolishly let herself get pregnant. I'm not going to let my other son throw his entire future away on a woman like you."

  This couldn't be happening. She had been so deliriously happy just a short time ago and now her world was crashing down.

  "I want you out of this house now. Tonight."

  She stared at him. "I promised Shelly I would be here for the baby's christening in the morning."

  "Make some excuse. Tell her something came up. But I want you to leave."

  Her chin went up. "And if I don't?"

  "Then I'll tell Thomas and your sister both how I caught you and Peter together. I believe Shelly will forgive her husband far more readily than my son will ever forgive you."

  This had to be a nightmare. People didn't act like this in real life, ordering others around, threatening them, accusing them of terrible things they knew weren't true.

  She gazed at William's merciless features, knowing she had no choice but to leave. He wouldn't hesitate to lie to her sister. Her instincts told her to trust that Shelly would believe her version of the story but she knew she couldn't risk it.

  Shelly was happy here, had found the very sort of home she had craved through their entire rootless life. How could she destroy that for her sister when she knew how much Shelly needed a place to nest?

  Either way, if any version of this night were to reach Shelly, she would be betrayed, either by her husband or her sister. It was far better to slip away and hope the whole thing would disappear along with her.

  As for Tom, she'd been foolish to let things go as far as they had, to ever believe they could share anything but momentary passion. She was Sharon's daughter, far more than Shelly had ever been, with her mother's same wanderlust and her mother's same appalling lack of self-preservation when it came to men.

  Her heart shattering, she packed her things and slipped away with only brief notes to both Shelly and Tom. She hated knowing she was hurting them both but she hadn't known what else to do.

  Shelly had forgiven her for leaving, as Sophie had known she would, because she was Shelly and it wasn't in her nature to be bitter or angry. Still, the hurt had been there through the last ten years, especially when Sophie worked so hard to maintain a safe distance away from her sister and her new husband.

  She had seen Shelly only a handful of times since then, the few visits she'd made here when she knew Peter was away on business and a few times Shelly had come to New York. But their relationship, already shifting and changing after Shelly's marriage, had never been the same.

  As for Tom, he had tried to contact her after she returned to New York but she had avoided his calls for weeks. Finally, after weeks of evasive tactics, she had surrendered to her cowardice and had her roommate tell him she was out with her boyfriend. To her vast relief, he seemed to get the message because the calls abruptly stopped and he never tried to contact her again.

  And that was that. The whole ugly story.

  Sophie blinked back to the present, unsure how long she had been sitting out here in the cool night air. It had to be close to sunrise. The lig
ht had already begun to change subtly, defining the outline of the trees, the curve of the swimming pool.

  She sighed, amazed that the memories of that brief time in her life nearly a decade earlier could still seem so vivid. She had never found with another man what she and Tom Canfield had shared for those few precious days.

  Like it or not, he still affected her more than any man she'd ever known. She didn't want to admit it but she couldn't lie to herself, not here in the raw honesty of approaching dawn.

  She had fallen in love with him ten years ago and she suddenly wasn't so certain she'd ever climbed back out.

  Sophie rose on bones that seemed old and tired suddenly and slid open the door to her room again. She would need to be waking the children for school in a few hours but perhaps she could catch an hour of sleep before then.

  With any luck, she wouldn't dream.

  Chapter 10

  Thomas was long gone in the morning by the time the children finished their breakfast and dressed for school in their smart navy uniforms and crisp white shirts.

  He left her a note in his slashing, masculine handwriting reminding her he had an early morning meeting at Canfield and urging her to use Shelly's luxury SUV in the garage to take the children to school.

  She had to admit, she was exceedingly grateful she wouldn't have to face him this morning. Not after their heated kiss and the even more heated dreams that had tormented her during that brief hour before her alarm bleated her awake.

  She was afraid she needed a little more time and distance between them before she would be prepared for another confrontation with him.

  Frustrated at her weakness where Thomas Canfield was concerned, she shoved the blasted man out of her head yet again and tried to focus on the children.

  "Are you all sure you have everything you need for the day?" she asked them one last time before they all loaded into the gleaming silver vehicle. "Lunch money, homework, notes to the teacher? Anything else we've forgotten?"

  "I don't think so, Aunt Sophie," Ali said. "We'd better hurry or we'll be late."

  "Right. We wouldn't want that on your first day back."

  As she drove through the morning traffic to the children's private school in Carmel, the twins maintained a constant dialogue about their friends and their favorite part of school and the Thanksgiving break coming in only a few weeks.

  Ali spoke little except to give Sophie directions to the school. Probably nervous about returning and having to face all the inevitable questions about her parents and the violent crash that had killed them.

  Poor thing. Sophie didn't know how to help her through this, what she could say to make it better. She was only grateful that at least the children didn't know about the FBI's latest suspicion that that crash might not have been accidental.

  Fifteen minutes later she pulled up in front of the school, feeling very much like a soccer mom along with all the other carpool parents in their minivans and Volvos and SUVs.

  "I'll be back at two-thirty to pick you up." She kissed them, wiped a smudge off Zach's nose and sent them on their way.

  The twins rushed into the school building but Ali lingered by the SUV, even though a couple of girls who seemed around her age stood talking just outside the door to the school.

  She waited while Ali played with the leather strap of her schoolbag, fiddled with her ponytail, bent down to tie the laces on her Docs.

  Finally Sophie knew she would have to say something or she suspected they would both still be standing there by the car when the bell rang at the end of the day. "Al, are you sure you're ready to go back to school? I don't think there would be anything wrong with you taking a few more days at home if you think you need them."

  "I want to see my friends. But I'm afraid everything will be different." She nibbled her lip and flashed a quick look at Sophie then looked back at the ground. "I don't want everybody to feel sorry for me. Like I'm some poor little orphan girl now."

  Oh, how she wished she had a better idea what she was doing in the whole parenting department. Was it always so terribly hard? Maybe she could sign up for a class or read some books or something so she wouldn't feel so completely out of her depth.

  Of course, that wouldn't help her right now, in this moment.

  "You're right," she began, praying she could find the right words to help this child who had been through so much. "For a while, everything will seem different. Your friends probably aren't going to know what to say to you. I'll let you in on a little secret, Al. Even grownups don't always know how to talk to people after they've suffered such a terrible loss as you and the twins. They're afraid of saying the wrong thing or making you hurt worse."

  Ali seemed to be listening, even though her gaze was still fixed on the ground.

  "You have to be honest and up-front with your friends about what you're feeling and thinking. That's the best thing you can do. If you don't want to talk about your parents and the accident yet, if you're not quite ready, just tell them that."

  Her lip trembled. "Sometimes I want to talk about Mom and Dad and sometimes I don't."

  "Then say that. I'm pretty sure your friends aren't going to know how to act around you for a while. You just have to show them that all you want is for them to be your friends, just like always."

  Ali was quiet for a moment, then gave her a small smile. "Thanks, Aunt Sophie," she said, hitching up her bag.

  Sophie kissed her for luck, then watched as Ali turned and ran to the school. She stopped and exchanged a few words with the two girls standing by the door. After a moment, one of the girls gave her a quick, awkward hug, then Ali smiled at them and the three of them hurried into the school.

  Sophie stood outside the school for a few more moments, wondering if all parents felt this little clutch of apprehension sending their children into the big, bad world.

  They were her children now. They all had a long way to go but already she could feel their hearts knitting together. She, Tom and the children were making a family, unlikely though it might be.

  A family. Now there was a strange thought.

  Things couldn't continue the way they had been for the past few days. She knew that, had known it even before that devastating kiss in the early morning hours. Somehow she and Tom were going to have to figure out a way to make this work. Only trouble was, she didn't have the first clue what the solution might be.

  But then, maybe she ought to try to solve the problems of the world—or at least her little corner of it—at a time when she'd had more than a few hours of restless, broken sleep.

  Sophie rolled her eyes at herself and started the SUV then pulled back into traffic. She had the rest of the day to herself until the school day ended. The first order of business was shopping for some new clothes since she had only been carrying a bare-bones travel wardrobe with her when Thomas reached her in Morocco.

  A big item on her long-term agenda was arranging to sublet her apartment in New York and having her belongings sent to Seal Point, but in the meantime she needed something to wear besides a few pairs of jeans and a couple of disreputable T-shirts.

  Shelly had an entire vast walk-in closet full of clothes in exactly her size but the idea of wearing her dead sister's clothes, even in an emergency, was just too creepy to contemplate.

  Somehow she was going to have to face the chore of packing all those things of her sister's away, but not yet. She wasn't ready, couldn't bear even thinking about it. She needed more time to grieve before dealing with Shelly's belongings.

  She spent the morning in Monterey shopping for the basic necessities—underwear, socks, a few more pairs of jeans and a half-dozen sweaters and shirts. On the way back to Seal Point she drove through Monterey's historic downtown and spotted the headquarters of Canfield Investments with its gleaming windows and graceful Spanish architecture.

  She was almost tempted to stop and see how things had gone for Tom on his first morning at the helm and to ask if he'd been able to learn anything about a pos
sible motive for someone to kill Peter and Walter Marlowe.

  She couldn't stop, though. That would be something a wife would do—pay a visit to her husband after a morning of shopping. It was certainly not in the job description of a former sister-in-law.

  Somehow while she was wading through the minefield of their complicated relationship, she had a feeling she was going to have to keep reminding herself they were just sharing responsibility for the children, not sharing anything else.

  Instead of trying to come up with flimsy excuses to see him again, she should be doing her best to figure out a way to avoid a repeat of their scorching encounter.

  * * *

  William and Maura were out walking, she noticed when she returned to Seal Point and pressed the remote to open the gates. She could see them just starting out along the pathway through the trees.

  She smiled and waved as she drove past them toward the garage. Maura waved back but William only gazed blankly at her. What a tragic disease, she thought again. So unfair that it nibbled away at a person's mind with such relentless brutality.

  In her brief experience with him, he had been a harsh, vindictive man. Cruel, even. But even though she had despised him for his behavior a decade ago, she could never wish a fate as heartbreaking as Alzheimer's on anyone, not even William Canfield.

  She parked the SUV and pulled her packages from the back seat. Somehow she managed to lug them all through the house to her room in one load.

  The house seemed eerily empty without Tom and the children, she thought as she nudged open her bedroom door. Echoing and cavernous and forlorn, somehow. She didn't like it.

  She tried to shrug off her discomfort as she walked into her bedroom and set her bags on the bed but it persisted like fingernails scraping down her spine.

  Her unease seemed worse in her room. Something wasn't right. She couldn't place exactly what but some instinct warned her that all was not as it should be.

  Even after walking through the room, she couldn't figure out what was bothering her. Everything seemed in order, just as she had left it.