How many people had gotten that letter? Dana had spoken as if she’d been the only one. Having no idea whom she might safely sit beside, she found a chair at the back of the small group and tried to make herself invisible.
For the first time, she didn’t light up inside at the sight of Daniel. He didn’t seem to see her. Maybe she was invisible. She half heard his encouraging speech to the volunteers. Behind her, she heard the door open and close, indicating that another volunteer had made it to the meeting, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t stand the possibility of another cool stare from someone she’d begun to think of as a friend.
She sank into her own thoughts. Terrible thoughts. If other people in the valley had already seen the letter, and believed Bruce’s lies, she’d have to uproot Jonathan right now and leave without trying to defend herself. She’d lied to them about Bruce, told them he was dead. She could almost hear them saying it: “Lie about one thing, and she’ll lie about another.”
Worst of all, statewide child services wouldn’t trust her to care for Daniel’s boys. Maybe Daniel wouldn’t trust her, either.
What if they tried to take Jonathan away from her? It was a thought too horrible to bear.
As soon as the meeting ended, she’d tell Daniel it was imperative that they talk immediately. For now, she had to wait. In spite of her worry, she finally managed to tune in to what Daniel was saying.
“I’m proud to introduce a new volunteer who has offered to be the financial manager for the center. A businessman himself, he brings his expertise to our project, temporarily deserting his own business, which is an act of great generosity. Ted Hilton, will you step forward, please?”
From a spot directly behind Lilah, a man moved confidently toward the stage. He turned to face the audience, and Lilah found herself looking at Bruce.
Chapter Twelve
Lilah felt as if she’d been thrown overboard into the deep waters of the Atlantic. Her blood ran cold, her fingertips were icy. Struggling toward the surface, running out of air, she listened to Bruce deliver an exemplary speech, thanking all the volunteers, telling them how much he looked forward to working with them. He said the words looking straight at her. She felt certain that she, and only she, could see the hint of malevolence behind his polished smile.
Bruce did have talent. He was, beyond doubt, a superb con artist.
The meeting ended with a few final words from Daniel. Lilah made a beeline for him, but she wasn’t as swift as Virginia Galloway. She and Daniel exchanged a few words that made Daniel nod soberly, then several other volunteers followed. She hung back, waiting her turn.
“Lilah.”
Bruce’s voice. She stopped in her tracks.
“Be with you in a minute,” he said, smiling at several obviously smitten volunteers who’d surrounded him, “but someone told me this is Lilah Jamison, and we haven’t met yet. Give us a minute.”
She turned to face him. He held out his hand and smiled, performing for his public, but when he spoke, his words were for her alone.
“It’s been a long time, Lilah.”
“Not long enough,” she spat at him, not caring who heard her. “What are you trying to do to me?”
Now his smile was the one she remembered all too vividly, cold and cruel. “You blew the whistle on me. Now I’m blowing the whistle on you.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
“Apparently you haven’t read the letter that’s circulating around the valley.”
She clenched her fists. “Lies, and you know it.”
“You lied about me,” he said in a singsong voice, “and now I’m lying about you. Fair’s fair.”
“You—”
“Now, now,” he said in a gently chiding way, “hear me out. I have a plan.”
“To hurt me as badly as you can.”
“Oh, no. To help you.”
He couldn’t con her any more. She didn’t answer, just waited to hear more of his lies.
“Too bad about the letter,” he said with false sympathy. “The townspeople will shun you. Saint Daniel,” he hooked a thumb toward the stage, “will fire you. But I will resign from my exalted position, outraged at the community attitude toward you, and whisk you and Jonathan away from the scandal to an upper-middle-class life in, um, Pennsylvania.”
“Forget your plan. Stay away from me,” she said fiercely, “and don’t get anywhere close to Jonathan, or Daniel, or his kids. Jonathan and I would go on welfare before we’d leave town with you. When I tell these people who you really are…”
The smile stayed in place, but his voice was like an icicle, sharp and cold. “Cooperate with me, Lilah. Don’t even think about blowing my cover. You’ll be sorry if you do.”
He stepped away from her, and without missing a beat said jovially, “Sorry about that, ladies. Now I’m all yours.”
Lilah made her way toward Daniel, but now she moved more slowly. Bruce had threatened her if she told anyone who he really was. But she’d told Dana the truth about herself and had promised to tell Daniel. Almost, not quite, as a condition of being regarded as a fit mother for Jonathan.
Threat or no threat, she would tell Daniel. The person she most needed to tell him about now wasn’t herself, but Bruce.
Behind her, Lilah could hear him saying, “I got lucky with some investments, which gave me the capital to start the company. Then it did well and I…”
And, “I’d be happy to offer financial advice. I follow the market closely, and I…”
She had to drive him out of Churchill before he did irreparable harm to the community. She hurried toward Daniel, who saw her and ended the conversation he’d been having with the pediatrician.
“Daniel, I have to talk to you.”
“Seems like everybody wants to talk to me right now, but you first,” he said.
He whisked her out of the church and into the red pickup. Lilah saw no sign of Bruce. “So let’s talk.” He sounded busy—or harried.
“I…I have a lot to tell you.” Her voice shook. “I want to show you something. Just drive. I’ll tell you how to get there.”
They made the trip in silence, except for the terse directions she occasionally gave him. At the end of the logging road, she said, “We’re here.” She turned to face him. “This is where Jonathan and I lived—until we met you.”
She led him to the fallen tree trunk where she and Jonathan had spent so many hours, reading, talking, living on sandwiches and cereal. The memories of those two weeks were so painful that she hated to relive them, but Daniel had to know everything.
“What I have to tell you may change everything between us.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not the person you think I am. I’ve lied to you. I’ve lied to the whole community.”
His expression changed completely. “I know,” he said. “I got the letter, too.” His voice was calm, but in his eyes she saw that he felt betrayed.
“It was full of lies,” she said, longing for that look to go away.
“Your husband isn’t alive?”
“He is. I lied about that because it was a gentler story than the truth,” she said, shaking with anxiety. “Jonathan and I were hiding from him.”
“Why?”
Dappled sunlight shot through the tall trees, mocking her sadness, her bitterness, as the dam that had held back the truth inside her burst and the words flooded out of her.
Daniel listened, his face tight. She found herself stumbling over her words, sounding, probably, just like a person who was telling a lie.
When she told him that Bruce had hit her, his expression changed briefly, encouraging her. “He gave you that scar,” he said.
“Yes. When he found out I’d turned him in, he hit me with a cast-iron frying pan. Jonathan was there, screaming.” Tears flowed down her cheeks at the memory. “I could hardly stand up, but I made myself stay awake and alert. I had to, to protect Jonathan. Bruce rushed out of the house, maybe thinking h
e could get out of town in time, but the police caught up with him. They stopped him for speeding, of all things, and as soon as he handed over his driver’s license, they knew who he was and they took him in.”
“He was a brute,” Daniel murmured. “He could be dangerous to my boys, too.”
“I thought I’d escaped him,” she said, beginning to sob uncontrollably. “I was going to tell you now, tell you I have to leave, and tell you—”
His eyes were sad. “If you leave, you’ll change all our lives. You charmed Jesse, the boys love you, and I…” he hesitated, “I love you.”
Her breath caught.
“Until you, I’d never met a woman I trusted enough to love. See,” he said, with such pain in his face that her heart wrenched, “I wasn’t always the person I am now. Learning to trust has been the hardest struggle of my life.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”
“I’ll take you back to town.” His shoulders drooped.
“I’ll leave with Jonathan tonight.”
“I guess that’s what we’ll have to do.” He sighed. “Because of my boys. But not tonight. I don’t want you driving with Jonathan when you’re upset.”
His instinct to protect Jonathan as well as his boys touched her. “Tomorrow, then. But I have one more thing to tell you.”
Her heart had turned to stone, but it allowed her to calm down enough to deliver her biggest blow. “I didn’t know until today, but this con artist, this violent man, was going to handle the cash flow of the center. Ted Hilton, your new financial manager, is my ex-husband, Bruce. You have to get rid of him.”
His shock built to rage that was frightening in its intensity. “Because you lied to me, I was going to let this…this con artist, this violent man, handle the cash flow of the center?”
“That’s not my fault! I didn’t know he was doing this. I told you I wanted to meet him. Now I’ve met him, I’ve told you, and I assume you’ll get rid of him.”
“Damned right I’ll get rid of him,” Daniel said, suddenly sounding angry.
And you’ll be rid of me tomorrow morning, too. All’s well that ends well.
Chapter Thirteen
Lilah huddled in her car, trying to calm down before she drove back to Daniel’s house—for the last time.
Her heart was breaking, but she had to stay calm, cold as ice inside, until she’d done what she had to do. She had to tell Jonathan, and she’d decided she’d tell him the truth. She had to pack up her possessions. She had to give her son time to say his goodbyes, maybe have dinner with the family as usual and spend the night with Nick. She knew Daniel wouldn’t punish Jonathan for his mother’s sins.
Her sins. She’d handled everything so badly, when she’d thought she was doing just the opposite. Why had she decided to remain silent, try to be a different person in this new community? Fear of Bruce was a big factor, certainly. Pride? She didn’t want anyone to know the kind of man Jonathan’s father was. Didn’t want anyone to know that she’d let that man abuse her verbally and physically.
It wouldn’t help to beat herself up. It was over. She and Jonathan would run again. This time they’d have more money—she’d saved most of her salary, and they should be able to afford some sort of shelter. She should choose a larger city this time, in a state other than Vermont, would change her name.
They’d survive. But she was afraid they’d never be as happy as they’d been here.
The ice in her heart threatened to melt into tears. She took a deep breath, then started the car. She’d drive to the pool first, make sure Jonathan was all right, maybe even take him home with her. He’d protest, wanting to stay with Nick and Will, then ride his bike home—with Jesse driving right along with them.
Every thought that came into her mind reminded her of some moment during her stay with Daniel. Now she was remembering the family council Daniel had held to decide if the younger boys would be allowed to ride their bikes to the pool. He’d insisted that they be chaperoned everywhere, explaining to Lilah that sometimes the parents of foster children tried to get them back without going through proper channels, kidnapping them, effectively. And often the children went with them willingly, imagining everything would be all right. Especially with the mystery of Nick’s past, Daniel couldn’t take any chances, even if the boys thought he was overprotective.
But when they told him everybody in town rode their bikes to the pool except them, he’d been forced to realize that it was something that made them different from the other kids, the very thing he had struggled to avoid. So the compromise was bikes plus a grown-up in the caravan.
Sadness rose up inside her. It had all been so wonderful, and now it had come to an end.
She reached the pool just as Jesse drove away slowly in the van with three young cyclists following him in single file. Lilah pulled up behind them at a safe distance. This afternoon they’d be sandwiched in between two bodyguards. In her rearview mirror, she glimpsed another car she’d seen parked on the street beside the pool. She felt sorry for the driver. Passing two cars and three boys on bicycles would be dangerous on this narrow, curving road. He or she would be traveling at five miles an hour until the Foster cortege got home.
Home. Not her home anymore. She gritted her teeth. She had to gear up for the talk with Jonathan, which she was dreading more than she’d dreaded anything in her life.
DANIEL HADN’T MADE AFTERNOON appointments because of the meeting. When he got home, he saw that Lilah’s car wasn’t there. Maybe she was following the boys home from the pool. Or maybe she picked up Jonathan and left in spite of her promise to wait until tomorrow. Aching inside, he strode into the house, needing badly to spill out his anger and sorrow to Jesse, then make plans to increase security around the house until they were sure Bruce Jamison had left town.
Jesse wasn’t there, either. Frustrated and let down, he got out Bruce’s business card and dialed the man’s cell number. Bruce didn’t answer. Daniel left a deceptively polite message for the nonexistent Ted Hilton, then glanced at the card again.
If Lilah was telling the truth, there was no Hilton Construction Company in Philadelphia. So he’d call the number and see what he got. What he got was an “invalid number, please redial.” He redialed, and got the same message.
So she was probably telling the truth about Bruce. Just a little too late. A lot too late, in fact. He sank into a kitchen chair. He’d known better than to let himself fall in love, and he’d gone ahead and done it anyway. He should have listened to Mike and Ian.
He grew angrier as he sat there. He dialed Bruce’s cell number again, and this time he said, after the beep, “Bruce, I know who you are.” Anger won’t help, he reminded himself. Sound like a man in charge, a fearless man. “Leave the valley immediately and don’t show your face here again. Lilah and Jonathan are under close surveillance.” Right. He had no idea where Lilah was, and Jonathan was under the surveillance of a seventy-five-year-old man and two young boys. “You can’t touch them. The chief of police knows about you,” or would in a minute, “and I imagine your parole officer in Whittaker is expecting a visit from you. If you don’t do exactly as I say and get out of here, the chief can get you on a parole violation. So leave, now!”
He dialed the police station and filled in the chief. “Nothing to charge him with yet,” Daniel said, “but if you can find anything to pick him up for, do it.”
He slammed the receiver onto the cradle, then picked it up again and called Dana at home. “Daniel, I’m so sorry,” she said. “This is such a mess. I strongly feel that Lilah couldn’t have—”
“Dana, Lilah could have done anything. She’s been lying to me from the start.”
“Daniel, are you sure?”
“The man who wrote that letter is her ex-husband, Bruce Jamison, an ex-con, who is currently calling himself Ted Hilton, the center’s new volunteer financial manager.”
There was total silence at the end of the line. Finally Dana said, “Well, Da
niel, I’ve spent the past two hours trying to check out Lilah’s story, so now I have information to refine the search.” She hesitated. “Have you and she talked?”
“Yes. She says she had nothing to do with his scam and that he was brutal to her. And maybe he was. She has an ugly-looking scar on her forehead, says he hit her with a cast-iron pan.”
“I believe her,” Dana said. “Give me time to check out both of them.”
“Let me know what you find. I know the guy’s an impostor and there is no Hilton Construction Company, but is there any reason to think he’s dangerous?”
“And Lilah? Do you think we might need to take Jonathan away from her?”
All the energy went out of him. “No, he loves her. He couldn’t be faking it.”
“Take it easy, Daniel,” Dana said, and her voice was gentle. “We’ll figure out the truth.”
“She’s leaving in the morning,” Daniel said, feeling worse and worse. “I told her to.”
Another silence, then, “I guess I have a lot of work to do tonight.” Dana was brisk now. “Okay to wake you up if I have news?”
“I won’t be asleep,” Daniel said, because he knew it was true.
He began to pace the floor, waiting. Waiting for the phone call Bruce would never return. Waiting for Lilah, who would never come home to him again.
LILAH WAS BARELY AWARE she was driving as she followed the boys down the shaded road to the older part of town and Daniel’s house, which faced another wooded area. It was a beautiful setting. Elderly neighbors on both sides, and a view of parkland across the street. She’d miss that, too.
The driver behind them was keeping a respectful distance from her car. A nice person. Maybe had a child in the car, too. Although she had her gaze focused on the boys, she was lost in wistful thoughts when the house loomed ahead, fanciful outside, comfortable and loving inside.
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