I don't remember driving away from the house.
I don't remember making turns and stopping for traffic lights. I don't remember how I brought myself back to the factory, but suddenly I was there.
Logan, who heard me pull up, came out of the factory quickly.
"Well?" he asked. I just sat there behind the steering wheel staring ahead. "Heaven?"
"She has him," I whispered, like one in a trance.
"And she wants to keep him "
"What? You're kidding?"
"No," I said, turning to him. "We've got to go to court to win custody of him."
"Well, that's not going to be hard. We'll just—"
"It's going to be terrible, Logan," I said quickly.
"Everything will come out. Everything," I added, to drive home the point. He understood and instinctively turned around to look at his new empire.
"I see," he said.
"But I don't care," I added firmly. He nodded, but I sensed his fears and reluctance. "Nothing matters more to me than getting Drake back, Logan. Do you understand?" My voice reached a hysterical pitch.
"Yes, yes, of course. Let's go home and tell the police we've found Drake, and tell Mom and Dad what's happened, and then we'll think out our next step."
As we drove to Hasbrouck House, the past few weeks played-in my mind—how I had been slowly winning Drake's love and trust. Because of his sorrow and all that had happened to him, he had formed a hard shell about him, just the way Luke had formed a hard shell about himself right after my mother, Leigh, died giving birth to me. But I had been slowly chipping away at that shell around Drake and I felt I was making good progress. Now Fanny was
destroying it. I pictured how handsome Drake had looked in his little suit at the party, and just before we turned into the driveway of the Hasbrouck House, the dam broke and a flood of tears rushed out.
Was I destined to travel through life with Despair and Sorrow at my side, twin sisters who were comfortable in my home? Or maybe happiness, the happiness I kept thinking I finally had within my grasp, was like a beautiful bird. If you held on to it too tightly, you broke its wings and crushed it to die; and if you held onto it too lightly, it would fly away.
Had it flown away?
I was all right until I entered the house, went upstairs, and stopped by Drake's room. Then I burst into tears again and ran into my bedroom to flop on the bed and cry. A short while later Logan came up and closed the door softly behind him. I couldn't hold back the tears or stop my sobs. I felt his hand on my shoulder and turned over to look up at him
"Now, now," he said. "There's no point in getting so upset over it. You know how Fanny is."
"What do you mean, Logan?" I wiped the tears away with the palms of my hands.
"She likes to do spiteful things and then, after she's satisfied, or thinks she's satisfied, she stops. How long do you think she's going to want to have a little boy as a responsibility?" He laughed. "Fanny? I can't imagine it."
"Randall Wilcox is going to marry her, Lo. n."
"Randall Wilcox? I can't believe it. His father will disown him. It's just a story she concocted to make things seem worse to you."
"No, it's true. He was there at the house. She has him under her thumb. She even has him disliking me. But the important thing is Fanny will have a husband and will be able to claim she has a fit home for Drake."
"I still don't believe she'll want to care for—"
"Logan! What do you expect me to do, sit around here and wait for her to get bored with Drake?
She's already filled his head with terrible stories about me, turning him against me. Every passing day will add to the disaster."
He nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, I'll get one of my attorneys to do the paperwork and frighten her with a court action. She won't know the first thing about what to do and—"
"She already has a lawyer," I said quickly.
"Wendell Burton."
"Wendell Burton?"
I nodded. "He's already given her some legal advice."
"Wendell Burton. He's an ambulance chaser of the worst sort, a parasitic, wormy type. Whenever someone dies in an accident, he's at the funeral parlor handing out his card, hoping they'll hire him to sue someone."
"It doesn't matter what kind of a lawyer he is or how good he is. The point is she has gone that far. It's not as simple as you think. We're going to have to go to court." He stared at me for a moment.
"I can't believe this . . . just when we get the factory started and we're making a mark for ourselves in this community, We have to have a family squabble aired in public."
"It's more than a family squabble, Logan. Far more. A little boy's life is at stake."
"I know that; I know that," he said. He stood up to pace about. "Maybe we can still work something out behind closed doors."
"We can't. You might as well face it."
"Well, jeez, Heaven, can't I at least try for an easier way out of this? I'll make some calls, see what can be done."
I shook my head and sat up.
"You're just like Tony. You think you can solve everything with a phone call or lawyers meeting behind closed doors."
"I'll just try," he repeated, holding his arms out.
"Try," I said. "But I'm not going to let more than a day pass."
"They won't abuse him," he said, trying to make it sound less severe.
"Logan." I narrowed my gaze on him "You pro ised me you would think of Drake the way you would think of your own child."
"I know and I will," he protested.
"Well, would you let someone do this to your own child? Take him away and fill his head with terrible things about you?" He didn't respond. "Would you?"
"Of course not."
"So then . . I'm calling J. Arthur Steine tomorrow and getting his advice and the name of an attorney in Virginia. I'm going to have the best possible legal help and put all the money I have to into this."
"Sure, I understand," he said softly.
"And if it means hanging out our torn and filthy laundry for all to see,
still do it to get Drake back,
don't care what these people think of us."
"Well, you said the magic word there, Heaven,"
Logan said. "Us. We have other people to think about
. . my parents, for instance." There was such heat in my chest, I thought my heart had caught fire. The glow moved up my throat and neck and into my face.
I felt my cheeks burning.
"You didn't think about them when you made love to Fanny in the cabin, did you, Logan?" I asked quickly. He blanched. "Well?"
"I told you how that happened. Do I spend my whole life paying for it?" he whined.
"I don't know," I said. I wiped the remaining tears from my face. "Maybe it's time we all owned up to our pasts and our actions. Maybe this has all happened so we can cleanse ourselves," I said.
"Whatever the reason . I'm determined to do what is right and necessary with or without your support."
Logan stared a moment and then nodded.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound selfish. Of course you have my support, and of course I'll be right at your side. I love you too much to ever let you suffer anything alone," he said. "I'll do what I can in the morning to stop this, and if I can't, go anywhere, do anything you want to bring Drake back where he belongs."
"Thank you, Logan." My eyes filled with tears again.
"Don't thank me for loving you as much as I do, Heaven. It's what makes my life worthwhile."
He reached out and we embraced.
"It will be all right," he whispered and kissed my forehead. "You'll see."
"I hope so," I said.
In the morning, right after breakfast, Logan went off to see his laws and make his phone calls. I
didn't go down to breakfast. Mrs. Avery brought me a tray with coffee and a piece of toast, all I could manage to eat. She didn't say anything, but I could tell that she knew something bad
had happened. She must have inquired after Drake and Logan must have told her something. She was too discreet to ask any questions, but for a moment I longed for someone her age to talk with, a real mother in whom I could confide my fears and problems. How lucky were those girls who had mothers and sisters they loved and could trust, I thought
After I had my coffee, I got a firm hold on myself and did what I told Logan I would do—I phoned J. Arthur Steine. He came to the phone immediately, interrupting a meeting he was having with his associates. He listened sympathetically.
"Can she do what she has done?" I asked quickly after I summarized all that had happened.
"Well, from what you tell me, she is a mature woman, a sibling, too. It never occurred to me at the time of our meeting in my office to ask about any of your brothers or sisters. You seemed to be taking charge of things."
"But Fanny doesn't have the background, the stability, the sense of responsibility," I pleaded and related some of her life to him.
"I see," he said. "And you say she's getting married now?"
"Yes."
"Well, I think there will have to be a custody hearing, Mrs. Stonewall, and these things will have to be brought out for the judge to view. But with the kind of home you can make for him and your own background, I think the decision will be in your favor."
"I want to be sure," I said. "Please recommend an attorney in Virginia who is an expert in these things. I have a high regard and confidence in your opinion," I added.
"Thank you. Yes, I know someone. His name is Camden Lakewood. You just sit tight and have him phone you as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Mr. Steine," I said.
"It's no problem, Mrs. Stonewall. Please don't ever hesitate to call me if I can be of any assistance to you. Once again, I'm sorry for your troubles, and I will have Camden call you immediately. My regards to Mr. Tatterton," he said.
I thanked him again. A short while later Logan called to deliver the same legal opinion—Fanny did have rights and there would have to be a custody hearing. He wanted me to use his lawyer.
"It's all been taken care of, Logan," I said. "I spoke with Mr. Steine and he's having an attorney who specializes in these natters call me very soon."
"Oh. Well, if that's what you think we should do ."
"I'll speak to you right after I speak with him," I said. I knew that Logan wanted to take control of things, that he probably saw it as the manly thing to do, but the only way I could keep myself from sitting around all day and crying was to keep myself involved in what had to be done to get Drake back.
It wasn't long before Camden Lakewood
phoned. I didn't waste any time with him on the phone.
"Mr. Steine recommends you highly, Mr. Lakewood," I said. "Cost is not a concern. How soon can you be at my house?"
"Mrs. Stonewall," he said in what I thought was a distinctly Harvard accent, "I just got off the phone with Arthur Steine and he has filled me in on your family and the problem. be there in less than two hours," he replied.
For really the first time since I had gone to Farthy and reclaimed my mother's family with their wealth and power, I appreciated what it all could do.
It boosted my confidence and strengthened my determination. The words I had spat at Fanny would come true, I thought. Nothing she had done when we were children, all the selfish things she had said included, and nothing she had said or done since, including her seduction of Logan, turned me as vehemently against her as her kidnapping of Drake and her poisoning him against me. Somehow she had always managed to get my anger at her to cool and my sympathy for her to grow, but this would not happen now. For the first time I wanted to hurt her back. I wanted vengeance, Willies vengeance.
I wanted it so much it made my blood boil. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how red my cheeks had become. Anger and pain, hatred and despair were all the ingredients I mixed together in my mind like some witch's brew. I could practically taste the concoction on my lips.
I swallowed to prepare myself for the ordeal to come.
Just as Logan predicted, news of the custody hearing spread quickly through Winnerow and its surroundings. Because of the factory and the splash we had made with our opening, everything we did and everything that concerned us was headline news here.
I remained sequestered in the Hasbrouck House, coming to life only whenever Camden Lakewood visited to prepare for the hearing. He brought a secretary along to take notes. We sat in Logan's office and I described and listed all the things I thought would work against Fanny. A list of witnesses was drawn up and Camden sent an investigator about to gather evidence.
Just like J. Arthur Steine, Camden Lakewood was a man who looked successful. He was a tall man in his fifties, lean and fit with sharp, clear blue eyes that fixed themselves so intently on the person to whom he was talking, you could almost see his mind at work— scrutinizing, weighing facts and data, making conclusions.
He had what advertising executives would call a distinguished appearance, the man to be seen in a magazine ad promoting the sale of an expensive car or clothing. There was a firmness to his posture and an air of authority about him. I felt very confident that he was pleading my case.
Although some of the things I told him were ugly and unpleasant, he never expressed any disgust.
It was as if he had heard it all before. His attitude helped me to relax, and before long I was able to tell him the hardest thing.
"Fanny's pregnant," I said. "And it appears virtually certain that my husband is the father of her child." My throat closed quickly after I uttered the words and tears came to my eyes. I had to look away to catch my breath. Mr. Lakewood's secretary looked up from her note pad and then looked down quickly.
Camden got up and went out to fetch Mrs. Avery and ordered her to bring me a glass of water, which she did instantly.
"How damaging will this be?" I asked.
"When you say 'virtually certain,' how do you mean that?" he asked, making me more aware of the words I chose.
"Logan has admitted to sleeping with her." I described the incident just the way Logan had described it to me. Mr. Lakewood didn't change expression.
"In the worst scenario," he began, "it's a trade-off. She came to him in the cabin, and from what we have learned, to put it mildly, Fanny sleeps around.
First, stop all payments to her. We no longer agree that Logan is responsible for the pregnancy. We'll insist on blood tests when the baby is born. From what you're telling me, you're not going to make out much worse financially even if the blood tests prove Logan responsible.
"Since she's marrying Randall Wilcox now, and since it's common knowledge she has been with him for some time, be it on and off, we will develop the possibility that the child is his. In any case we'll depict Fanny as a very loose woman and that should work against her.
"Logan's indiscretion isn't helpful, by any means, but men stray. The judge, Bryon McKensie, is a man and will not rule against us simply on the basis of Logan's one night with Fanny Unfortunately, adultery is a great deal more common today, or at least, revealed more.
"That incident aside, it would seem clear to me that your household has a much more moral
atmosphere. However, Mrs. Stonewall, I'd be negligent not to tell you this is not going to be a pleasant affair. I've had some research done on this other attorney, Wendell Burton, and his methods and style appear to be . . . shall I say of questionable taste?
You'll be on the stand and he'll have an opportunity to question you. I'll be there to raise objections, of course, but you must be prepared for the worst kind of courtroom antics and treatment"
"I'll be prepared," I said.
"And your husband?" he asked, his eyes narrowing for the first time. He had met Logan and had already sensed his fears.
"He'll be prepared, too," I said with added determination.
I know that I was only hoping that would be so, for as the hearing date approached, Logan became more and more nervous, a
nd although I had had only a few short phone conversations with his mother about the situation since Fanny took Drake, I knew that Logan and his mother had been discussing it a great deal. The afternoon before the hearing was to begin, Loretta Stonewall came to the Hasbrouck House. I was reviewing my recollection of the events I had told Camden Lakewood so my testimony would be consis-tent.
Mrs. Avery came to the office door to announce Loretta's arrival.
"Show her in, please, Mrs. Avery, and please make us some tea."
It was a rather cold day. Temperatures had dropped dramatically the night before, making it one of those days Granny used to say were "too cold even fer snow." Loretta was wearing the long silver fox fur coat Logan had bought her for her birthday. She came sweeping into the room, looking flushed and excited, as if she had run the entire distance between her home and the Hasbrouck House.
"Oh, it's so cold," she said. "How are you, my dear? How are you holding up?" She dropped herself into the large, cushioned chair in front of the desk and caught her breath, pressing her hand against her throat like someone feeling for a pulse.
"I'm fine," I said. "Mrs. Avery will bring us some tea shortly."
"How thoughtful. You are so thoughtful and clever. That was one of the first things I said to Logan when he told me how fond of you he was. She's a very clever girl, I said, to have pulled herself up so high so fast."
"Thank you; Mother Stonewall."
"Oh, please, just call me Mother. Mother Stonewall makes me sound like someone's great-grandmother," she added and followed it with a short, thin laugh.
Ordinarily, I might have laughed at what she had said, but it reminded me of Milan the first time I had met her and she asked me not to call her Grandmother because she had done so well hiding her true age from her friends. Would I be as vain when I reached their ages? I wondered. I hoped not. Vanity was a heavy burden, chaining us to a world constructed of falsity where people exchange a currency of lies.
Fallen Hearts (Casteel Series #3) Page 29