On the Edge

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Anything else from the police this afternoon?” Jack said when he was in the gloomy hall.

  “Nothing since this mornin’,” Cyrus said. “I keep expectin’ them to be crawlin’ all over this place all the time, but it’s not happenin’, is it? They seem to be takin’ their time.”

  “They told me they were finished with everything but Errol’s bedroom and bathroom,” Celina said. “They said the integrity of every other area was too compromised, whatever that means. I guess I know what they mean, but I’d still think they could spend more time checking.”

  “Is that you, Celina?” Bitsy’s voice trilled from the direction of Errol’s parlor.

  “What are they doing there?” Celina asked. “It makes me sad to go into the parlor. Errol loved it once I’d helped him redo everything. He said it made him feel warm, as if the sunshine came inside.”

  “Oh, that old devil, sunshine,” Jack murmured, and Celina heated up yet again. “It uses its magic fingers to do all kinds of things. Have you noticed how a little sun can paint already beautiful things until they’re so lovely they almost make your eyes hurt, Cyrus?”

  Bringing up the rear, Cyrus said, “The world is beautiful. I’m glad you’re a man who appreciates that. My sister is sensuous too. She reminds me of a cat. She almost stretches with pleasure when she’s excited by something.”

  “Does she? Ι guess I’d expect that.” He left them and headed for the study.

  Celina looked straight ahead and walked into the parlor she’d decorated in shades of yellow and gold with soft white walls that drew light to them. “Hello, Mama, Daddy. It’s great to see you. But what a surprise.”

  “If you stayed in touch as you should, you’d never be surprised to see us—you’d expect it,” Bitsy said. “You’d visit all the time, the way a child ought to. You behaved badly at Wilson and Sally’s party. Withdrawn. Difficult. And leaving like that, almost without a word? That Charmain person hinted that there were secrets you weren’t sharing. And she hinted at other things that are just too embarrassin’, Celina. She’s got to be put in her place.”

  “Mama,” Cyrus said, moving from behind Celina and going to his mother. He led her to the couch where his father sat, a large whiskey in hand, and sat her down. “You are overreacting. And you can’t expect Celina to spend her life catering to the whims of the Lamars. She owes them nothing as far as I know.”

  “We’re very involved in their campaign, son,’’ Neville said, the faintest slur in his voice. “Your mother’s right. We’re a family. And families support each other. Celina can be a great help to us in difficult times, and she should want to do that.”

  Celina couldn’t separate herself from the knowledge that although Jack had slipped past her in the dark hallway, he’d almost undoubtedly heard every word. “I do support you and Mama, Daddy,” she told him. “But I see no reason why I have to feel a responsibility toward the Lamars. They’re more than capable of making sure they get everything they want.”

  “That’s exactly the kind of comment that shows how selfish you are, young lady,” Bitsy said. “After all I’ve done for you, all I’ve sacrificed for you, you won’t do the little things that would make our lives—your father’s and mine—easier. We aren’t gettin’ any younger. We need to feel more sure of our future. For that to happen, we’re forced to do things that are abhorrent to people of our social status. We need the money from the auctions, Celina. Surely you’re going to make certain we’re paid for the last ones we arranged. And what about more auctions? Whether you’re the one arranging them or not. Don’t tell me children stop wanting their little dreams to come true just because one man gets himself murdered.”

  Celina covered her eyes and shook her head. “Please think before you speak, Mama. And try to consider someone other than yourself.”

  “Celina.” Bitsy loaded the word with horror. “How can you talk to your poor mother like that? We’re in danger of getting into trouble. I loathe mentiοnin’ the word, but I’m talkin’ about money troubles. That won’t help you, my girl. But you can put everything right. You hold the key. Make sure we continue to hold the auctions.”

  “I’m not sure when or if there’ll be more auctions.” Celina detested voicing the truth, but covering up was pointless. “We have some people to convince first.”

  “Talk to her about Wilson,” Neville said, upending his glass, and getting up to wend a wavery trail to the decanter for a refill. “He’s a good man, Celina, and he thinks the world of you just as he does of your mother and me. He wants to hire you. And he wants to pay you more money than I thought anyone got paid for these aide jobs.”

  “Wilson Lamar wants me as an aide?” Her stomach turned. “What exactly does that mean?” The last time she’d seen Wilson he’d spoken of her taking over publicity. He wanted her under his control and he didn’t care what excuse he dreamed up.

  Neville retraced his steps, placing his feet carefully, and gestured with his overfilled glass so that it dripped. “As in being his right hand. He’s got respect for your mind, girl, real respect. He wants you to travel with him as his aide during the real gearing-up of the campaign. And he wants you there at the house.”

  “Oh, Celina, it’s perfect,” Bitsy said. “What were you trained to be but a beautiful, accomplished impression? That’s what Wilson wants, a beautiful impression to confront everyone who comes his way. You’re going to be the gateway to him. You’ll decide who comes in and who stays out. We will never want for another penny, I tell you. Oh, I am so excited. Think of all the parties. And then...Celina, then there’s Washington and...oh, it steals my breath away. It could be the White House eventually, couldn’t it? And with you at the President’s side.”

  “I’d think it would be the first lady who would be at the President’s side,” Cyrus remarked mildly. “Or do you have plans about that too.”

  “I don’t like what you seem to be suggestin’,” Bitsy said. “I’d have thought a priest would be more careful what he said to his mother. But you’ve never been careful, and the Church hasn’t made you any kinder.”

  Celina felt tired. She’d noticed that by the afternoon of each day she began to wilt. Her parents were simply intensifying the process. “I know you’d like this to happen, but it won’t. I’m going to continue right here and try to help Jack keep Dreams going. Even though it will not be easy.”

  Whiskey disappeared steadily down Neville’s throat. He paused for breath and blinked slowly, pointing a finger at Celina. “You’re going to do as you’re told this time. From what we’re hearin’, the sooner you put distance between yourself and anythin’ to do with Errol Petrie, the better. The auctions are somethin’ different. We can keep on doin’ them as long as you make the right arrangements before you leave. Draw somethin’ up. A contract. Wilson will look it over and make sure it’s legal.”

  Cyrus came to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. “Celina’s tired. This conversation will have to wait.”

  “We have the most ungrateful children, Neville,” Bitsy whined. “Ungrateful and disrespectful. Celina, are there going to be more auctions?”

  “I told you I don’t know.”

  “We have to know.”

  “Well, you can’t know for sure until I do.”

  “It’s because of what they’re saying about Errol, isn’t it?” Bitsy said, chewing a fingernail. “What were you doing living in a house with a man like that? Alone with him?”

  “Errol was a fine man. He’s been murdered, Mama. How can you malign the dead like this.”

  Bitsy gestured airily. “Don’t give me that righteous act. The man was a sex addict. It’s all over town. And to think I was right there in the very bedroom where all that perversion had gone on. Oh, I shudder at the thought.” She gave a demonstration.

  “An alcoholic,” Neville said, closing an eye in an effort to focus his vision. “Living alone with an alcoholic sex-addict. My God, if you’ve any reputation left, you’d better be gratef
ul. It shows Wilson’s high regard for us that he’s prepared to overlook all that and take you on.”

  Cyrus’s grip tightened. “Let it go,” he murmured to Celina. “What are you whisperin’ about, Cyrus?” Bitsy said. “You don’t understand what we’ve been through because you chose to abandon us and save yourself. By the way, Sally Lamar wants to see you. She’s a very kind woman and she’s interested in the Church. She’d like you to help her explore her desire to become a Catholic. She’s been afraid to go to a church where she doesn’t know anyone. But she feels that with just the two of you alone, she’d wouldn’t feel embarrassed.”

  Celina didn’t dare look at her brother. His grip tightened even more and he said, “I doubt I’ll be here long enough to be of much help to her.”

  “Oh,” Bitsy exclaimed. “Our salvation is within our grasp if only you two would cooperate, but you’re too selfish.”

  Cyrus cleared his throat. “If you need money, all you have to do is ask. I have some savings.”

  Neville guffawed. “Thanks, son, but payin’ the paper boy isn’t going to help a whole lot.”

  “I see,” Cyrus said quietly. “You need a great deal of money. How exactly would it help you if Celina and I agreed to whatever the Lamars want?”

  The blustering noises Neville made didn’t make sense.

  “He said he’d take care of us,” Bitsy said loudly. “There. Now you have it. The onus is on you. If you and Celina do what Wilson and Sally want you to do, we won’t have any money worries and we won’t be shamed in front of our friends. And before you ask again why they want you, it’s because you’re from a fine old family, and having you around impresses people.”

  Celina put her arm around Cyrus’s waist. She felt sick. He must be remembering how Sally had chased him when they’d been in high school. He’d been too kind to turn her down when she invited him to the senior prom, but he’d come home early and would never discuss why.

  “You mean Mrs. Lamar wants to retain me for some spiritual reason?” Cyrus asked. “And Wilson wants to employ Celina? And if you deliver us both to them, they’ll pay you a finder’s fee.”

  “Oh, would you listen to him, Neville? He makes it sound so tawdry. Some of us have to be pragmatic, my boy. When Neville married me, he adopted you children. How many men would do that? We spent a fortune on you children when you were growing up. Your education. Your sister’s education and all the money it cost to support her pageant ambitions.”

  “Scholarships are wonderful things,” Cyrus said. “And—”

  “Mama, Daddy,” Celina interrupted Cyrus. Another moment and he’d be reminding Bitsy that it had never been Celina’s idea that she compete in beauty contests. “I’m going to ask you to try to relax and give me time to deal with what’s absolutely pressing now.”

  “What’s absolutely pressin’ now is your obligation to your family and our needs,” Bitsy said. “Isn’t that right, Neville?”

  “S’right. “

  “There, you see? Your father and I are in agreement.”

  “My first responsibility is to help Jack Charbonnet keep Dreams going while the dust settles. For that to happen, we’ve got to hope and pray they find out who killed Errol. When those things are straightened out, I’ll be able to try to think of a way to help you.”

  “The house is a terrific expense,” Cyrus said. “You don’t need anything that large anymore, why not—”

  Bitsy sent up a wail. “My house. My beautiful house. My daddy left that house to me, and it’s not goin’ out of the family as long as I have breath in my body. You have to do as you’re told, Celina. And so do you, Cyrus. You ask for a sabbatical and look after your parents. They’ll give it to you. You call yourself a Christian, prove it. I told Wilson you’d be speakin’ to him tonight, Celina. He’s such a good man. He said he’d come over here to see you himself. Now, think of that. A man destined for the White House comin’ to see you when he could insist you go to him, but no, he’s too considerate.”

  Wilson wanted to come back alone to try to force her hand. The weakness Celina had hoped never to feel again started to creep into her limbs. “That won’t be convenient this evening. I already have plans.”

  “Cancel them.” Her mother’s powder-blue designer dress and jacket were too pale and made her features appear harsh. “What could possibly be more important? Haven’t I told you how much we’re relyin’ on you?”

  “Yes,” Celina said softly. “And haven’t I told you what my priorities have to be at the moment? You are standing in a house where an unsolved murder has taken place.”

  “Don’t remind me, please.” Bitsy pressed her hands together.

  Celina continued. “And Jack and I have to continue the work of the victim. For the sake of his memory, and for the sake of the children he served.”

  “That’s the other thing we have to make clear to you.” Bitsy said. “Neville, tell her.”

  Neville squinted at his wife. “What’s that?”

  “Tell her. About that man.”

  Neville looked into his glass, found it empty, and started another wobbly journey toward the decanter.

  “See how you’ve upset your father?” Bitsy said. “He’s beside himself. Jack Charbonnet. I’ve told you he’s dangerous, and low class. He comes from the dregs, Celina. The fact that he’s got a lot of money that doesn’t belong to him only makes it worse. Dirty money. It’s money his father took for illegal activities. And he runs a gamblin’ boat, for goodness sake. I shouldn’t think Errol Petrie’s death would be much of a puzzle with connections to a man like that.”

  “Hush, Celina,” Cyrus warned as he must have sensed her rising fury. “A lack of understanding is a sad thing.”

  “Don’t you sermonize around me, son,” Bitsy informed him. “I know what I’m talkin’ about. That man’s father was found dead at a big house he and his wife had no right to own. I went to the library and read it all up. He offended the hand that fed him. You ought to understand that, Cyrus. They nailed him to the wall and mutilated him, but they didn’t let him die until they’d finished with his wife. They found her in the pool. Naked. Can you imagine that. Naked and on one of those air pillows. She was no better than she ought to be. She was related to those awful people somehow. And she was pregnant at the time when they killed her.”

  Celina felt her legs sag.

  “Those people don’t do things like that to their own unless they’re really awful. And that Jack is their son. There, now do you see why you are not to have another thing to do with him?”

  “Poor Jack,” Celina murmured. “Oh, poor, poor Jack.”

  “Speak up,” Bitsy ordered.

  “Afternoon all,” Jack said, entering the room and planting himself at Celina’s other side. He looked at Cyrus over her head. “Thanks for being here for Celina.”

  Bitsy stared, open-mouthed, as if she were afraid Jack would produce a submachine gun from some invisible violin case.

  “How are you, Mrs. Payne?” Jack said. “At least we meet again under slightly less tense circumstances. Did I hear you expressing regret over my having lost both of my parents when I was ten years old? My parents and my unborn brother.”

  Something seemed to break inside Celina. A sob rose in her throat. She turned to Jack and he studied her upturned face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that, not now. Self-indulgent.” He put his arms around her and held her against him.

  “You unhand her,” Neville said, rising unsteadily to his feet and pointing with a finger that couldn’t locate its target. He closed one eye again, then the other, and sat back down. “Take your hands off my daughter.”

  “I know how you feel, Mr. Payne,” Jack said in an unbelievably reasonable voice. “I’ve got a daughter myself, and I’m very protective of her. But you don’t have to worry. I’m going to take very good care of Celina.”

  She held her breath, knowing what he intended to say, and why. Marshaling her courage and strength, she rose to
tiptoe, put her mouth to his ear, and whispered, “God help both of us,” before turning to her parents and saying, “Jack and I are getting married.”

  Chapter 18

  An irreverent thought brought a grin to Jack’s face. He doubted either Celina or Cyrus would appreciate his sharing the notion that they couldn’t be related to Bitsy and Neville, that they must both have been mixed up in the hospital nursery after birth, and that somewhere there were two families with an impossibly shallow offspring they frequently wished they could drown.

  Bitsy and Neville Payne had left minutes earlier, but still no one had said a word. Bitsy Payne had expressed horror at the prospect of having a “gangster’s” son as a relative. Neville Payne had issued bombastic orders that Celina not dare to proceed with such an outrageous idea, and that she return to the bosom of her loving family at once.

  “I apologize for my parents,” Cyrus said, and Jack saw Celina jump. Seated on the couch, she had been deep in thought. Cyrus continued. “They are ill equipped to deal with life. They both came from wealthy families, and they still think like spoiled people whom the world will always accommodate. Not having the money to keep up the lifestyle they expect has made them childish in their efforts to make others—primarily Celina and myself—responsible for supplying their needs. I should mention that Neville married our mother when she was a young widow with two children. He was good to us. He isn’t all bad.”

  The formal apology made Jack uncomfortable. He gave a short laugh. “Show me a so-called functional family, fully functional, and I’ll show you people who are afraid to confront the truth. We’re all just trying to survive and find some peace.”

  “You sound like a cynical man,” Cyrus said.

  “Not at all. I’m a realistic man.”

  Cyrus raised one dark brow and nodded. He spoke to Celina. “They didn’t get to it today, although Ι think you headed them off with your news, but accordin’ to our parents, word has it that you and Errol were more than workin’ acquaintances. That was one of the terrible suggestions the lady reporter made at the Lamars’.”