First Loves: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance

by Stone, Jean

“Fairly sure.” He looked at the paper. “It also answers a lot of other questions.”

  Without having to ask Meg knew he wasn’t referring to the crime; he was referring to Alissa—her unhappiness, her desperation to find Jay Stockwell.

  Meg took the autopsy report from Danny while he explained the rest. Then she and Danny returned to the interrogation room.

  She tossed the report onto the table. “Okay, people, I want the truth. Robert, was Derek Lyons your lover?”

  Robert’s mouth gaped open. Natalie looked at the floor. Alissa went white.

  “Two years ago,” Meg continued, “Derek Lyons was tested for the HIV virus. You ran the test, Robert. You knew that Derek Lyons was HIV positive.”

  Alissa gasped.

  Robert buried his face in his hands. “How did they find out?” he asked.

  “The guard at the lab,” Danny said.

  “Dickson,” Alissa muttered. “I knew he was an asshole.”

  Silence loomed; then Robert sighed. “Bring in the police,” he said quietly. “I want to talk.”

  Meg winced. “I can’t advise you to do that.”

  Robert waved his hand. “I don’t need advice. I need to get this over with.”

  Meg nodded at Danny, who opened the door and signaled the captain and the detectives to join them.

  When the door was closed behind them, Robert fixed his eyes on Danny. “How did Dickson find out?” he asked.

  Danny glanced at one of the detectives. The detective glanced at the captain. The captain nodded once. The detective looked back at Robert. “He recognized Derek’s picture from when he worked there. Derek told him you were running the test. Later Derek told him the results.”

  The only sound in the room was the captain’s raspy breathing.

  “You bastard,” Alissa hissed. “I cannot believe you were screwing a guy who had AIDS.”

  “We were careful,” he said. “It may surprise you to know that I’m not altogether irresponsible.”

  The captain walked to the window. The others stood still, not looking at Alissa or Robert, not looking at one another. Meg rubbed the back of her neck and wondered if the officers, like herself, felt awkward at having to witness this family crisis.

  The captain coughed. “The guard also told us that Derek left your employ around the same time he tested positive, but that he came around once in a while.”

  Robert nodded. “He came in for treatment.”

  “The guard said that Derek was driving a new car. That he’d moved to a new condo.” He turned from the window and looked at Robert. “Did you buy them for him, Dr. Page? Were you supporting Derek Lyons?”

  Robert didn’t answer.

  “Jesus Christ,” Alissa said as she bolted from her chair and left the room. Danny slowly got up and followed her.

  The captain moved to the end of the table. He placed his hands on the edge and leaned forward, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his jaw firm. “Now tell us, Dr. Page, what really happened that night.”

  Meg listened as Robert Hamilton Page quietly told the story. It wasn’t complicated; it was really very sad. Derek and Robert had been lovers for three years. When Derek had tested positive, he’d had nowhere to turn. Robert was the only friend he’d had, and Robert had wanted the time left for Derek to be comfortable, financially secure. Robert did, after all, love Derek.

  Meg studied Alissa’s husband as he spoke and marveled at his composure. He was a strong man, she guessed, who had survived a great deal of pain.

  After Robert’s surgery, Robert continued, he and Derek hadn’t been able to get together until Alissa had gone to Los Angeles. Derek had come to the house; Natalie was out on a date. She’d arrived home early and went to check on her father. Outside Robert’s room—Robert paused to take a deep breath as he said this—Natalie had heard strange sounds.

  At this point Meg looked over at Natalie. Mascara-stained tears silently streamed down the girl’s face.

  “She panicked,” Robert said. “She thought something was wrong.”

  Natalie raised her head. “I heard someone else’s voice. I thought he was hurting you, Daddy.”

  Robert nodded, his face grim. “I know, honey.”

  The captain turned to Natalie. “I’d like to hear what happened next in your own words, miss. The truth.”

  Natalie wiped her tears. “I went down to the library and looked for the gun. Then I went back to Daddy’s room. It all happened so fast. They were in bed—together.” Natalie paused and chewed a fingernail. “Derek saw me. He jumped up and tried to take the gun away. It went off.”

  Meg studied Natalie’s eyes. They were distant, trancelike, as though her words had been rehearsed.

  “Nice try,” the captain said.

  Natalie stared at her finger without looking up.

  “They weren’t in bed, were they?”

  Natalie didn’t answer.

  “If they had been,” the captain continued, “Derek Lyons wouldn’t have been fully dressed. In his Italian suit. The bullet went through his clothes.”

  Natalie wept into her hand.

  “Captain,” Robert spoke up, “I can explain.” He took a long breath, then slowly let it out. “Derek was on the edge of the bed, I was”—he paused again, this time closing his eyes—“I was kneeling on the floor in front of him.”

  The captain frowned. Clearly, Meg thought, he didn’t understand. But she did. She looked over at Natalie. The girl’s chin was tucked into her chest. Her hair covered her face. My God, Meg thought, how will this child ever be the same?

  “It’s called fellatio,” Robert said, then opened his eyes and with an uncharacteristic snap to his voice he added, “If you don’t understand the meaning of the word, look it up.”

  The captain turned away from them and went back to the window.

  “My back was to the door,” Robert continued. “Natalie saw Derek before she saw me. Derek had his hands on my head. I guess my daughter thought he was trying to strangle me.”

  Natalie began to cry loudly.

  “That’s when she lunged for him. That’s when they struggled. That’s when the gun went off.”

  The captain studied whatever it was outside the window. “And after she shot him, the two of you moved his body downstairs. To the library. To make it look as though he were an intruder.”

  “It was foolish, I know,” Robert said.

  “But still,” the captain went on, “you expect us to believe it. All of it.”

  Meg watched Robert, saw the agony on his face as his gaze moved from the captain to his daughter. For what seemed like a very long time, no one spoke. Then, slowly, Natalie lifted her head.

  “I have a scratch,” the girl said, holding out her arm, “from where he tried to stop me.”

  The captain hesitated a moment, then turned and walked to where Natalie sat. He lifted her arm and examined the scratch.

  An accident, Meg thought. It had definitely happened the way they’d said. The way they’d finally said. Meg also knew that at some point Natalie would have to be tested for HIV. It was a very long shot that Derek could have infected her, but it was something that would need to be checked.

  The captain scowled. “If this is all true, then why all the lies?”

  Robert sat straight in his chair. “The lies were my idea,” he said. “I wanted to protect Alissa. And the girls. Protect them from the scandal that their father is nothing more than”—he paused—“than a fucking queer.”

  Natalie pushed back her chair, stood up, and went to Robert. She stooped down and put her arms around him. Together, they cried.

  And Meg realized that trying to protect anyone—wives, husbands, children, even lovers—from problems, or from pain, only causes greater hurt in the end. She picked up her briefcase and turned to the captain. “I think we have some paperwork to do,” she said.

  19

  “I cannot believe you people have done this to me.” Michele stood in front of Alissa and Danny, hands on her
hips, eyes wild with rage. Alissa knew that the only time Michele would have expected to see the inside of a police station was if she was organizing their charity ball.

  “We people,” Alissa said as she glared back at the mirror image of herself twenty-four years ago, the way she must have looked when she’d left Jay, “have not done anything to you.”

  “You’ve ruined my life. Positively ruined it. You don’t honestly think David will want to marry me now, do you? Even if he does, his family will never let him.”

  “Good. He’s an ass anyway.”

  “Mother! How could you?” she cried. “David is the best catch in this city, and you know it.”

  Alissa turned her head away. “So was your father.”

  Michele sniffed. “That’s not fair, Mother. None of this is fair. I don’t even know why I have to be here. I haven’t done anything.”

  “It’s just routine,” Danny said. “They need to question everyone who might have been in the house.”

  “I told them I wasn’t there! Don’t they believe me? God, this is so humiliating!”

  Alissa sighed. “It’s no picnic for any of us.”

  Michele snorted and adjusted the sash tied around her hair. “But they were involved, Mother. Natalie shot the man—Father’s—whatever you call him. They were involved for godsake, not me. God, how are we ever going to show our faces at the homeless gala?”

  Before Alissa could answer, an officer appeared. “Michele Page? We’re ready for you.”

  Michele shot a hateful glance at her mother, then sniffed and marched off with the policemen.

  Alissa turned to Danny. “Children are so fucking selfish. It’s a pity you never had any.”

  Danny laughed.

  “The worst part is,” Alissa added, “Michele is just like me.” She sat still on the hard wooden bench, staring down the hallway after her daughter. “I used to be like that. I liked it that I could dress her up and show her off, that she adored the attention and the parties, and that she could spot a fake anything, anytime, no matter if it was a fake diamond or fake French perfume. I liked that she cared about knowing who the best caterer in town was, and that she’d learned what kind of hors d’oeuvres are acceptable for cocktail parties or for dinner. I liked it, Danny. I liked having a little Alissa clone.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them. “But in these past few weeks I’ve realized how shallow she is. Shallow, and even worse, insensitive. I guess I’ve really done a good job of making her just like me.”

  Danny rested one foot atop the other knee and ran his hand across his boot. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’re a strong woman, Alissa. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Alissa stood up and walked to a bulletin board. She studied the grainy black-and-white notices of codes and regulations and the country’s most wanted, trying to dispel the vulnerability she felt whenever she and Danny were in the same room. She turned back to him, this tousle-haired, bluejeaned, sensitive guy.

  “You’re wrong, Danny,” she said. “I’m not strong. If I were, I’d have left Robert years ago. And none of this would be happening. A man would still be alive, and my family wouldn’t be in this mess. Even though I didn’t know Robert was gay all these years, I knew he was fooling around. And whether he was with a man or another woman, the truth is, our marriage was glued together by appearances and infidelities. His, then mine.”

  She walked back to the bench and sat down. “It didn’t take strength to stay married to a man with so much money, so much power. It took fear. Of independence.”

  Danny formed a tent with his fingers. Alissa wondered if his calluses would feel rough against her skin.

  “I thought you had money of your own,” he said.

  “Only half as much as he and I put together.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this out loud, that she had stayed with Robert only for the money, for the prestige of being Mrs. Robert Hamilton Page. But it was true, and Alissa suspected that Danny knew it anyway.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  Alissa shrugged and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. She shook one out and lit it. “A lot depends on what happens with Natalie.” She looked around for an ashtray. A No Smoking sign caught her eye.

  “Natalie will be okay,” Danny said. “My guess is it will be ruled accidental and there won’t even be a trial. They’ll check under the victim’s fingernails for skin tissue. If it matches Natalie’s, it would indicate a struggle. Her story and Robert’s verification will hold up then.”

  Alissa shivered and took a deep drag on her cigarette. “I hope you’re right. I hope it’s as easy and painless for Natalie as possible. But we can’t be sure of that. Especially since your girlfriend, Meg, will probably bail out on me.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend, Alissa. We’re close friends, that’s all. But, Jesus, you did try to blackmail her.”

  Alissa ignored the sergeant behind the desk who was flipping his gaze back and forth from the No Smoking sign to the small curl of smoke at the tip of her cigarette. She smiled. “Yes, I thought that was rather brilliant of me.” She took another drag, then ground the butt on the gray tile under her feet.

  “Well, I thought it sucked.”

  Alissa folded her hands in her lap and stared at the floor. “You’re right,” she said quietly, “it did suck.”

  Danny leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the bench. “What are you going to do now? No matter what happens with Natalie, you can’t go on living like this.”

  Alissa hesitated, then nodded, without words.

  “And what about the homeless gala? Are you going through with it?”

  Alissa laughed. “You heard my daughter. ‘How are we going to show our faces there?’ ”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re not the first family to have problems.”

  “I think ‘scandal’ is a more appropriate word here.”

  Danny shook his head. “No, Alissa, you’re wrong. Besides, I’ve seen a lot of people weather a lot of scandals, and I’ve learned that the ones who save face are the ones who face them.”

  Meg saw Alissa and Danny sitting head to head, talking in inaudible whispers. Danny had his arm around Alissa. A sting of envy shot through her, followed quickly by slow anger. Danny—her friend—was comforting the woman who had only yesterday threatened to destroy her life.

  As she walked toward them, they stopped talking.

  “You knew all along, didn’t you, Alissa?” Meg asked.

  Alissa didn’t answer.

  “Meg,” Danny said, “it’s over. Leave her alone.”

  Leave her alone? Danny’s words burned into her. Just who is your friend here? she wanted to shout. Leave her alone? The woman who tried to blackmail me? The bitch who put together these lies to save her precious reputation among the rich and famous? She tried to swallow her rage.

  “Robert is in there confessing,” she said coldly. “He’s telling the truth. I hope.”

  “It’s the truth,” Alissa said. “All of it. I’m sure you’ll find it’s consistent with what I’ve just told Danny.”

  Meg tucked her briefcase under her arm. She looked at Alissa, so fragile looking, so injured. She wondered which woman was the real Alissa—the sympathetic one, or the blackmailer.

  Alissa put a small jeweled hand on Meg’s arm. “Will you stay?” she asked with watery eyes. “Until this is over?”

  Meg thought about Holly Davidson, about Arnold Banks. Surely the trial of Dr. Robert Hamilton Page’s daughter, who had admitted to killing her father’s gay lover, would command as much publicity, probably more. It was the stuff Larson, Bascomb would wet their pants over. In its own infamous way this case would be certain to draw many other married men out of their proverbial closets. Only in America, Meg thought, would anyone be arrogant enough to turn the issue of homosexuality into scandal in the first place. And now the tabloid-tantalized public would most likely throw all its sup
port toward Natalie. The cause would be ruled accidental; it would never make it to trial. Sorry, Avery. Sorry, George Bascomb.

  “I feel badly for you, Alissa,” Meg said quietly, her anger calmed, her voice low. “I feel badly for Robert, and for the ordeal your family is going through. It probably isn’t fair. But, then, what’s equally unfair is that Robert didn’t have the freedom to be who he was all along. I’m sure Derek’s family would agree.”

  “Robert told me that Derek’s family disowned him when he told them he was gay,” Alissa answered.

  “Then it’s even more sad. Now they’ve lost him forever, and so has Robert.”

  Alissa ran her hand through her hair. “You have to help me,” she begged. “There’s no one else I trust.”

  “I hope you’re not threatening me again.”

  Alissa stood up. “No, Meg. No threats, no strings. But …” She looked at the floor, then raised her chin to Meg. She blinked back tears. “But I need you, Meg. I have no one else.”

  Meg studied Alissa’s pale, drawn face. Alissa was, obviously, tired. Probably so tired of being scared, so tired of feeling alone, that she no longer cared if her weaknesses showed. Meg thought of her own friendless years, and of the many ways in which she had shut love out. How different was she from Alissa?

  Before Meg realized what she was doing, she’d set down her briefcase and wrapped her arms around her friend—her tiny, fragile, very vulnerable friend.

  “I’ll help you, Alissa,” she said quietly. “Now, let’s get out of this hellhole. Let’s get you home.” Alissa clung to her a moment longer, and as Meg glanced over Alissa’s shoulder, she saw Danny. He was smiling.

  When they pulled into the circular driveway, Alissa groaned. “Oh, shit. Whose car is that?” She pointed to a white Eldorado parked by the front door.

  “It can’t be the media,” Meg said as Danny stopped the car and they got out. “They aren’t paid well enough to drive Cadillacs.”

  “It’s probably Sue Ellen, who’s come to tell me my services for the homeless gala are no longer needed.”

  “Bullshit,” Danny said as he put his arm behind Alissa and they went up the stairs. “They need you more than you need them, and don’t ever forget that.”