On the Edge

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “The woman I’m going to marry got severely roughed up. And some goon’s been following my daughter around. I’m getting threats, Win, and I’m here to ask if you could find it in your heart to do something about that.”

  Several more swallows of wine, and Win set down his glass.

  He flattened his palms on the table and leaned toward Jack. “You got too much of your father in you. He thought he could call the shots, too.”

  “My father was a member of the family. I’m not.”

  “Not the way he was. But you’re close to me, and that means a lot of people are going to make assumptions—unless you go out of your way to show they don’t got any need to make those assumptions.”

  “How would I go about doing that, Win?”

  “Easy. I know it would hurt, but pay a little homage to Sonny. Let him know you respect him.”

  Jack’s stomach hated that idea. “Can’t you make him lay off?”

  “Maybe.” Win waggled his head. “But you gotta help me. You gotta play it my way. I’ve got troubles of my own. There’s a lot of talk about how I’m losin’ my grip. People are linin’ up, pushin’ for where they want to be when I’m gone, that kind of thing.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” Jack’s jovial laugh didn’t ring true in his own ears. “You’re a rock, Win. Rocks outlive the world.”

  Α faint smile crossed Win’s full features. “The rock’s wearin’ a bit smooth. It started wearin’ smooth a long time ago.” He leaned even farther across the table and beckoned for Jack to do the same. “I gotta tell you somethin’ in case there isn’t another chance.”

  Jack was aware of an unpleasant thudding in his chest. He bent close to Win and didn’t flinch when Win caught hold of his hands. “I gotta look after my own first, you understand?”

  Jack nodded.

  “I got family. You know what I mean. Blood family. My wife and kids, and their kids. I got five great-grandchildren. I owe it to all of them to look out for their future.”

  “I’d do the same thing.”

  “But I want you to be okay. For that to happen, you gotta follow orders. Don’t do it for me, do it in your mother’s memory.”

  Jack did flinch then.

  “I never told you the truth about your mother. Now I got to do that. I loved her, Jack. I wanted to marry her.”

  Revulsion turned Jack’s stomach. “I didn’t know that, Win.” He did know that Win was at least twenty years older than the woman he was talking about.

  “She was a good woman. She was too good for your father, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She married him. I wanted her, but she would have your father.”

  Jack didn’t remind Win that he must have been a married man with kids when he was trying to stand between Jack’s parents.

  “You coulda been mine.” Win’s hands tightened on Jack’s. “I always think of that. That’s why I’ve taken care of you. If things had gone my way, you’d have been mine.”

  And illegitimate. “What does this have to do with now?” Jack asked.

  “Nothin’,” Win roared suddenly. “I’m just explainin’ why I had to look after you all these years, and why I gotta let you look after yourself now. I gotta take care of my own business. Sonny’s restless. He wants me to step down. I ain’t ready to do that, but I gotta handle things real delicate. I can’t allow you to mess things up for me on account of my own family needs me where I am for the present.

  “Let me finish. Your mama wasn’t supposed to die. They got carried away. Leastwise, that’s what I was told.”

  Jack believed, as he had always believed, that Win had advance knowledge of exactly what was going to happen at the home of Pierre and Mary Charbonnet on a sunny afternoon by the pool. Too terrified to leave, Jack had been watching through the pool-house window when Win arrived at the scene of the carnage. He’d come with the assurance of a man who knew what he expected to find. He’d shown no surprise. That could be only because he’d ordered it. Jack had also seen Win pull Mary Charbonnet gently from the pool and carry her to a chaise, where he covered her with a towel. That hadn’t made sense until now, but it didn’t make Jack hate him less or hurt less. Win hadn’t shed any tears over Jack’s father.

  “Will you do something for me?” Win asked. “Will you be respectful to Sonny? Maybe you could ask him to call around at the Lucky Lady for a little present, say once a month. Tell him it was my idea. Tell him that and make it a meaningful present, Jack. Then I think you’ll be okay.”

  He couldn’t let the rage he felt show. After so many years of feeling he had these unwelcome connections under control, and that he’d eventually punish Win Giavanelli, Jack saw it all slipping away, and he hated it. “You think that’s what it’ll take to make sure no one decides to have any more private chats with the woman I’m going to marry, or with my daughter?”

  Win fell back in his chair. He appeared gray with exhaustion. “That’s what I think. But you know you always gotta be careful.”

  “I know that Win.” Jack stood up. “I’ll consider your suggestions. And I’ll do what I have to do.” Whatever that might be.

  “And you understand that I say these things for your own good? Because I think of you like another of my sons?” Only with difficulty did Jack choke out a yes.

  Back in the bar and already dreaming of the fresh air outside, Jack’s progress was halted by Sonny, who stepped in front of him again.

  Jack nodded. “Time to go home, I guess, Sonny.”

  “Is that all you got to say to me?”

  He wasn’t going to offer him “presents.” "No. I want to say something else, and I hope you’ll take it in the spirit it’s meant. Quit worrying, Sonny. You’re safe. Understand?”

  Sonny’s pasty face turned purplish. “You arrogant son of a bitch. You think you get to say what happens in the family?”

  “Not at all. It’s just that you seem to think I’m some sort of threat. I’m trying to put your mind at ease.”

  Sonny took hold of a lapel on Jack’s leather jacket. “That’s good of you. Let me make a suggestion to you, Jack. Things can start being talked about. Things you don’t think will ever be mentioned, especially after five years or so.”

  “Like what?” Jack was genuinely puzzled.

  Sonny’s smirk wasn’t a pretty sight. “Like something a man might not want his daughter to know. Like how he was in the car his wife drove into a swamp. That he got out and she didn’t.”

  Jack reached for the back of a chair and held on.

  The action didn’t escape Sonny’s notice, and he puffed up with satisfaction. “I see I’m hitting a nerve here. I don’t suppose the man would want his kid to know how some said he should have been able to get his wife out of that car too.”

  Jack shook his head. “I tried. I couldn’t.”

  “So you say. But word has it you sat on the bank a long time before you went for help. In fact, you went for help only when someone you knew came along unexpected.”

  Wilson Lamar. Wilson had been coming from a whorehouse tucked away beside a bayou on the banks of the Atchafalaya. Wilson, the respected lawyer who already had big political aspirations which Jack had been vocal in opposing. That night Wilson had made sure Jack understood that no one could prove he’d been coming from a whorehouse when he found Jack, but the fact that Elise was dead inside a car in the swamp was concrete. No official suggestion had ever been made that Elise’s death was anything but a suicide, and Jack didn’t want Amelia to know that her mother hadn’t been alone in the car. Elise had insisted upon driving and had begged him to let her go alone. He’d refused, and she’d sent them both into the slimy water.

  “I see I’ve got you thinkin’, Jackie,” Sonny said. “I like that. A thinkin’ man. Get in my way and some little birds will start chirpin’.”

  Jack stood tall, which was considerably taller than soft Sonny. “I’ve got a warning of my own to hand out,” he said. “Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. That means sta
y away from anyone connected to me. We aren’t a threat to you. Got it?”

  “Maybe.” Sonny still chewed his toothpick. “And maybe I can make sure you’re never tempted to step over the line onto my side of the turf. In case you haven’t noticed, the papers have been real useful to some lately. I can’t think of a better way to spread bad news. Bad news for some. I think some folks must have an in with a reporter or somethin’, what do you think?”

  Jack watched and waited. He wasn’t expected to respond.

  “Yeah, well, I thought you’d agree. The last thing I’d want to see would be a hint that your poor little dead wife wasn’t the one driving the car that night after all—that you could have been behind the wheel. It would be a real shame if the rest of your life got messed up like that.”

  Chapter 35

  “Cyrus?” Celina gripped the arms of her chair and strained to hear. “Cyrus, is that you?” She rose from the couch in the parlor but didn’t attempt to leave the room.

  “It’s me,” Cyrus called out. “I’ll be right there. Would you like some iced tea?”

  Iced tea? She hadn’t thought of eating or drinking for hours, certainly not since Jack left, angry because she’d insisted on remaining to wait for Cyrus to come home. “Yes, please,” she said after opening the door. “Sounds good.”

  Every nerve twitched. Every muscle jumped. Why was there still no word from Jack? She’d spoken with Tilly, who said she and Amelia were fine, but that she hadn’t heard from Jack since he’d checked on them before leaving Celina. Tilly had added that Celina should be in Chartres Street, too.

  Cyrus came with two tall glasses of iced tea. He looked pale and withdrawn. His eyes had the sunken appearance of a man who hadn’t slept for too long.

  “Are you all right?” Celina asked him, taking the glass of tea.

  “What are you doing alone?” It wasn’t Cyrus’s way to answer a question with a question.

  “Jack had to see someone. Dwayne and Jean-Claude went back to the club.”

  “You shouldn’t be here on your own. Or anywhere else.”

  Under siege.

  Celina touched the cold glass to each of her cheeks, then rested it against her forehead.

  “Celina?” Cyrus said tentatively. “What is it? Something new?”

  “No!” she shouted, and then couldn’t believe she’d raised her voice to her brother. “No, Cyrus. Not something new, just something that I should have told you—and Jack—a long time ago. Now I don’t know if I can tell you at all. And if I do, I don’t know what you’ll want to do about it. I’m so scared about everything, and so confused. And I’m not the kind of woman who gives in to pressure.”

  He studied her for so long that she put shaky fingers to her mouth, afraid of what he’d say next.

  “You’re too strong,” he told her at last. “That’s the problem. Would you please tell me everything that’s on your mind? I promise you I won’t repeat a word you don’t want repeated, and I’ll help you, Celina. You know I’ll help you even if there doesn’t seem to be a way.”

  “I know,” she said, nodding. “How was it with Sally Lamar?”

  He made lines on his sweating glass with a fingernail. “Difficult. She’s a very complex woman, and she’s in trouble. But we all know that. Talk about you, please.”

  She sat down, and immediately got up again. The baby made a fluttery little movement, and Celina put a hand over the spot.

  “You aren’t in pain, are you?” Cyrus asked, coming to her at once.

  Celina smiled at him. “No. The baby moves a little now. You’re going to be angry when I tell you what’s on my mind. And some of that anger’s going to be directed at me. Jack’s going to be angry, too.” She didn’t want to say aloud that she feared he might not want anything more to do with her.

  With a gentle touch Cyrus held her arm and urged her back onto the couch. He sat beside her. “I am not going to be angry with you. I can’t speak for Jack, but I can tell you that he’s a good man. You know I’m uncertain about this marriage, but Ι still believe he’s honorable, and that he cares about you. At first I thought you’d worked out some sort of compromise for reasons I didn’t know—”

  “We had.” She must lay it all before him now.

  “But that’s changed, hasn’t it? You feel something for him?”

  Leaning against his arm, she gave him her glass to set down and said, “I’ve fallen in love with him.”

  “Ah,” was all Cyrus said.

  “I haven’t told him the truth. I haven’t lied, I just haven’t told him things he ought to know. He could have helped me make the right decisions, but I didn’t trust him. Cyrus, this is Wilson Lamar’s baby. Jack does know that now—since yesterday. We talked about it all the way to Baton Rouge, and he tried to convince me he could handle it calmly, but I’m scared he might decide to go get Wilson alone. If he does, I can only guess at what might happen.”

  The quality of the following silence was like ice on Celina’s skin. With her leaning against him, Cyrus remained utterly still.

  “Jack deserved to know that from the beginning, but I wouldn’t tell him because I’ve been afraid of what Wilson might do to Mama and Daddy.”

  “He threatened to punish them because you’re carrying his child?”

  “Until yesterday—at lunch—he didn’t know I was pregnant at all. He noticed, made the assumption that it was his child, and told me I had to have an abortion.”

  “You led me to believe you’d been raped. But you had an affair with a married man?”

  “Ι was raped.”

  Cyrus made white-knuckled fists on his knees.

  “Afterward I stopped working for Wilson’s campaign. I was doing some work for him, remember? He threatened me. He said that if I told anyone what had happened, he’d say I was ambitious and I encouraged him because I wanted to use him. Then he’d make Mama and Daddy look like fools, he wouldn’t use them in his campaign the way he has, and they’d be ostracized by the people who matter most to them.”

  “So you let him get away with it?”

  Her scalp prickled. “It sounds so...I sound so weak when I say it aloud, but I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to. Errol was the only one I thought I could trust, so he got elected. Wilson had started trying to begin a relationship with me. He came here one day when I was alone, and Ι thought I was going to pass out, it scared me so badly. I knew then that I couldn’t get through this whole thing alone. When I finally told Errol, he wanted to go to Wilson immediately. Then, when I begged him not to, he asked me to marry him.”

  Cyrus looked her and guided her face against his shoulder. “Poor kid. Errol was such a good man. I suppose you turned him down.”

  “I told him I’d think about it. But then he was killed.”

  Someone else came into the house, and Cyrus got up. “Who is it?” he asked loudly.

  “It’s Jack. I’ll be right there.” Determined footsteps followed, and a vaguely windswept-looking Jack appeared. “Cyrus. Boy, am I glad to see you here. Where’s Dwayne?”

  “He had to go back to the club with Jean-Claude,” Celina said, relieved to see Jack but praying he wouldn’t press to know whether or not she’d been there alone. “Jack, I just told Cyrus something I’ve been keeping to myself. I thought it was for the best, but I may have been wrong. Now I’ve got to have help deciding how to deal with it.” If Jack was going to be angry because she’d already told her brother what she’d been unable to voluntarily tell the man she was going to marry, so be it. They didn’t exactly have a long, intimate...they didn’t have a long history.

  With no attempt at embellishment or justification, she told Jack about Wilson Lamar—about the threats against her parents, and Celina’s fears for them. She finished by saying that she was worried because Jack hadn’t mentioned the revelation that had been made at Galatoire’s since he and Celina left the place.

  Jack turned so white, she feared he might be ill, but she quickly recognized signs o
f deep anger rather than sickness. He took off the leather jacket he wore and balled it in his hands.

  “I’ve wanted to bring the subject up again,” Celina said. “But I haven’t known how. You’ve seen me trying to keep an even relationship with the Lamars. I don’t think you could ever have thought I liked them, not unless I’m a better actress than I think I am. And after you found out what that man did to me, you must have assumed—correctly—that it was for my parents’ sake that I kept quiet about him. He’s so arrogant, he doesn’t believe he’ll ever be accountable for doing wrong. You saw how he was at the restaurant yesterday.”

  Jack muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

  Celina felt an irrational urge to cry. What a pointless exercise that would be. But what was Jack thinking? She almost laughed aloud. Why should she expect to have any idea what he was thinking? That kind of thing took time to develop, and they hadn’t had that time.

  “Why don’t you share what’s on your mind?” Cyrus asked. “We’re in this together. I had quite an interview with poor Sally Lamar tonight. We’ve got trouble all around, and we’re going to have to move forward together.”

  “What’s on my mind?” Jack showed his teeth, but not in a smile. He threw his jacket toward the nearest chair, and missed. “What’s on my mind is that there is so much that’s rotten, in every direction I look, that I’m not sure where to start trying to dig us out. But, by God, I will dig us out.”

  Celina trembled inwardly. This cold anger was something she hadn’t witnessed in him before. “Where do we start?” she asked.

  He spread his arms, then let them fall to. his side.

  She turned on her heel and walked around the couch to pull back one of the sheer draperies at the windows.

  “Get away from there,” Jack said.

  She ignored him. “I’m going to start. Don’t interrupt me, please.”

  “Celina—”

  “If I want to stand by the window, I’ll stand by the window. Get over it, please.

  “When Antoine’s wife came to see me, she did have something to talk to me about. Her name is Rose, Cyrus. A straightforward, decent woman. They have two boys and they’re working very hard to give them a chance in life. Now that I know they don’t have legal status in this country, I fully understand that poor woman’s fear.