Breath of Scandal

by Sandra Brown

  Cathy disagreed. Every time Graham raised the topic of his father, she urged Jade to tell him, but to no avail. The stigma of not having a father was bad enough, without his knowing the rest. To help ease his conflict, she had given him permission to lie. “I hate lies, Graham. You know that. Sometimes, though, I think they’re okay, if they’re told to protect someone else and not oneself.

  “So, when your friends ask you about your father, you can protect them from being embarrassed by simply saying that he died. I give you my permission to say just that—he died before you were born. Okay?”

  Evidently it had been okay, because Graham had never broached the subject again. He had reached a level of maturity where he could work it out for himself. Thinking about how quickly the years were passing made Jade’s heart wrench with homesickness for him. She couldn’t wait till June, when he would join her in Palmetto.

  “You’ve drawn quite a crowd.”

  Jade snapped out of her reverie and turned her head in response to the low voice near her ear. Dillon sat down in the vacant chair beside hers. “Good morning, Dillon. You look very handsome.”

  “Thanks,” he replied self-consciously.

  He was wearing a new suit for the occasion, and his hair had been trimmed.

  She had dressed with utmost care herself. There would be old-timers in the crowd who remembered the scandal she had created when she left. Most were merely curious about Palmetto’s new industry. Either way, she was going to be the focal point of everyone’s attention today. She wanted to dazzle them.

  “I drove out to your trailer last night, but you weren’t there,” she told Dillon.

  “Sorry I missed you.”

  “It looked as though you’re settled in.”

  “There wasn’t much to settle. I’m ready to get to work.”

  “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “Dog?”

  “There was a dog lying on the top step of the trailer.”

  “Oh, him,” he said, frowning. “He showed up a few days ago, and I made the mistake of feeding him a few table scraps.”

  Tilting her head, she smiled teasingly. “And now he’s adopted you?”

  “Not for long. I’m going to take him to the pound the first chance I get.”

  “After his leg heals, you mean. That looked like a home-made bandage,” she said, her goading grin still in place.

  Dillon’s scowl deepened. “He’d been in a fight, had a bad scratch. I poured peroxide into it and patched it up. That’s all.”

  “I don’t know, Dillon,” she said breezily. “I think you’ve got a pet for life.”

  He switched subjects by nodding out over the crowd. “Did you expect this?”

  “Yes. For the first time, my name appeared in the local newspaper yesterday evening.”

  His gaze swung back to her. “Any reason why your name should spark so much local interest?”

  “There might be. I grew up here.”

  He reacted to that as to an electric shock. His hazel eyes focused on her sharply. “Funny how you failed to mention that.”

  Before she had an opportunity to reply, Palmetto’s mayor approached her. “Ms. Sperry, let’s give these folks another five minutes or so to find a seat, then you can make your presentation. How long d’y’all figure it’ll take?”

  “Approximately ten minutes. Then I’ll open the floor for questions.”

  “Mighty fine. Take all the time you want, little lady. This is a landmark day. I still can’t get over it.”

  Cutting short his sexist effusiveness, she introduced Dillon to him. As the two men were shaking hands, Jade chanced to glance between them and spotted a woman seated in the crowd.

  Reflexively her lips formed the name. “Donna Dee.”

  Her former friend had never had her overbite corrected; her small face still came to a point above her upper lip. She was wearing her hair in a short bob now, but it was still unrelentingly straight.

  Nevertheless, there were marked changes in her appearance. She no longer looked comically animated, but harsh. Her eyes seemed to have receded into her skull, making her look more furtive than ever. She resembled a mistrustful animal peering at the world from inside its lair.

  Her gaze now was uncharacteristically still, fixed on Jade. Time had etched distinct lines on each side of her protruding mouth. Jade and Donna Dee were the same age, yet Donna Dee looked at least a decade older.

  Jade felt a sharp twinge of remorse that she couldn’t remember with fondness all the nights they had slept over at each other’s house, giggling and planning their futures, which invariably revolved around the men whom they would marry—Gary and Hutch. At least one of them had gotten her wish. Jade’s thoughts must have manifested themselves in her expression because Donna Dee was the first to break their stare. She lowered her eyes to her lap.

  It was odd that Hutch wasn’t in attendance. There were a number of deputies helping to control the crowd, but Hutch wasn’t among them. Hutch had always been big and strong, but basically a coward. No doubt he was trying to avoid their first confrontation in fifteen years.

  There were several faces in the crowd that were vaguely familiar to Jade. She could put names with others. She hadn’t spotted Myrajane Griffith, but then Myrajane wouldn’t be one to fraternize with the general public, believing most to be riffraff. And, of course, Lamar wasn’t there. Jade had heard from him only once after seeing him in Morgantown. As before, he had pleaded for her understanding. She regretted that his death had been so tragic, but her resolve hadn’t diminished—he had died unforgiven.

  The mayor approached her again. He checked his wristwatch and importantly tugged on the hem of his coat. “Well, whenever you’re ready, Ms. Sperry, I reckon we can start.”

  Feeling a rush of energy, she said, “I’m ready.”

  The mayor waxed poetic at the microphone until everyone in the audience was either torpid with boredom or fidgeting restlessly. At last, he introduced Jade.

  The applause from the audience was polite but reserved.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming this morning. Your number indicates to me that GSS has made an excellent choice for the site of their TexTile plant. Palmetto was chosen for several reasons. Among them were its availability of raw building materials and its accessibility to the shipyards, which will make the transportation of goods feasible and relatively inexpensive to domestic and foreign markets.

  “The overwhelming reason for the selection of this location, however, was the duality of the benefit to be derived from this enterprise. The TexTile plant will provide hundreds of jobs. It will resuscitate a flagging economy. And TexTile will prosper because of a strong, willing, and resourceful labor force—in other words, you.”

  Jade held her breath. As she had hoped, there was a smattering of applause, then a groundswell of it, until it was deafening in the crowded room. She smiled inwardly, knowing that she had them. Strategically, she hadn’t begun by trying to impress them with the wealth and might of GSS. That would have spawned only resentment. Rather, she had flattered the region and its people.

  The mood shift was palpable. The crowd assumed a more cordial personality. Her audience was no longer suspicious of the Yankee company that was going to muscle its way in and inundate their county with outsiders. She talked them through the plant’s procedure, from the time the ginned cotton arrived until it left in the form of ready-made garments, destined for any number of world markets.

  “This plant will belong to the community,” Jade stressed. “The more you put into it, the greater the payoffs will be. It will generate thousands of dollars each year in local taxes alone, which can be channeled into making much-needed improvements for the community. On an individual basis, it will mean better job opportunities for workers in numerous and diverse fields of endeavor.”

  “What kind of jobs?” someone shouted from the back of the room.

  “Assembly line, shipping and freight, maintenance and engineering,
clerical. The list of opportunities is virtually endless. To begin with, we’ll need construction workers. At this time, I’d like to introduce Mr. Dillon Burke. He’s our general contractor.”

  She turned to Dillon and motioned him forward. He approached the lectern. His appearance was daunting, if for no other reason than his exceptional physique. That, coupled with his thick, curving mustache and compelling eyes, caused a silence to fall over the murmuring crowd. Jade gave him an encouraging smile as she relinquished the microphone to him.

  After a brief speech, he excused himself, returning moments later carrying an architectural drawing of the completed plant. A gasp went up from the audience when they saw it.

  “This is what the facility will look like when we’re finished,” Dillon explained. “As you can see, it will be a state-of-the-art operation that will take years to build. I’ll be encouraging the subcontractors to hire regional workers.”

  He propped the drawing against the lectern and promptly returned to his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Burke.” Jade addressed the crowd again. “I’m willing to take questions from the—”

  The back door of the room was flung open with such force that it crashed against the inside wall. Every head turned to see what the commotion was about. An expectant hush fell over the room as two men entered.

  Looking neither right nor left, they came down the center aisle between the rows of folding chairs until they reached the edge of the stage. Jade’s heart was in her throat, but she ignored the rude interruption. “I’ll take your questions now.” Several hands were raised, but she wasn’t given a chance to acknowledge them.

  “I have a question for you, Ms. Sperry,” a voice from her past announced. “Where in hell did you get the nerve to show your face in this town?”

  Jade retained her composure, although her expression turned glacial as she lowered her gaze to the man in front of the lectern.

  Ivan Patchett glared up at her from his wheelchair.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The flustered mayor intervened. He didn’t want to risk having the town’s number-one citizen offended. He didn’t want Jade to be insulted, either. No matter how one looked at it, it was an explosive situation. The only way to avoid catastrophe was to call the meeting to an abrupt conclusion.

  Over the din, Jade spoke into the microphone, promising that any further questions would be answered in a series of newspaper articles.

  “What the hell is going on?” Dillon demanded when he reached her side. “Who is that old geezer?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to get away from here.”

  “You haven’t answered my question yet!”

  Ivan hadn’t been deterred by the noisy confusion. Although the meeting had been adjourned, the crowd was slow to disperse. Most were holding back to see what was going to happen next. They sensed that the fireworks were about to begin, and, as was customary, Ivan milked his audience.

  Jade would have chosen another time and place for her first encounter with the Patchetts, but Ivan was forcing her hand, and she wasn’t about to back down. She stepped off the platform and confronted him.

  “I have every right to be in this town or any other place I choose to go. The free enterprise system is still operative in America.”

  “Not in my town.”

  “Well, well. Jade Sperry. So you’re the mystery person behind all this. Who’d have thought it?”

  Neal was standing behind Ivan’s wheelchair. Mistakenly, Jade had thought she was immune to his effect on her. She wasn’t. Rage and hatred surged through her, almost obscuring his smiling face. Patience, she told herself. He wouldn’t be wearing that smug smile much longer.

  Since she had continued to receive the Palmetto newspaper all these years, she knew about their accident at the railroad crossing in Charleston. Both of Ivan’s legs had been severed above the knees. Neal had suffered a crushed pelvis, broken bones, contusions, and other serious injuries that had kept him hospitalized for months. His wedding to Marla Sue Pickens had never taken place. The reasons for it being called off were nebulous.

  Neal’s appearance hadn’t suffered any ill-effects either from aging or the accident. He was as handsome and arrogant as ever. “I thought this whole thing stunk to high heaven the first time those rezoning requests showed up on the city-council agenda. Naturally, I voted against them. Tried to sway the others, but some had stars in their eyes and don’t know what’s good for this town.” He grinned slyly. “Got to tell you, Jade, I admire the sneaky way you went about this.”

  “Don’t compliment her.” Snarling, Ivan pointed a finger up at Jade. “I’m royally pissed off at you, young lady. You might think you’ve been real clever. You might think that since I’m confined to this goddamn chair I’m weak and incompetent.”

  He rolled the chair forward until his stumps were almost touching her knees. She held her ground, though the sight of him repulsed her and the thought of his touching her was revolting.

  “You listen here, girly,” he hissed. “I’m stronger than ever. That frigging train didn’t damage my brain, you know.” His eyes narrowed to malicious slits. “You can count on this—that goddamn plant of yours will never be built in my territory.”

  A cane was lying across his lap. He picked it up and thrashed it across the architectural drawing that was still propped against the lectern. It fell face down on the floor. From the corner of her eye, Jade saw Dillon lunge forward. She extended her arm, halting him in the center of his chest.

  Her voice was amazingly calm. “I’ll grant that at one time you were fearsome, Mr. Patchett.” Her eyes roved over him unemotionally. “Now, you’re merely pathetic.”

  She sidestepped his wheelchair and brushed past Neal without acknowledging him or anything he had said. Outside, people were still milling about. All looked at her expectantly as she emerged from the building. Obviously they were waiting to see how she had fared against Ivan.

  With a confident stride, she moved down the sidewalk toward her new Jeep Cherokee and unlocked the driver’s door. She tossed her briefcase inside and was about to slide behind the steering wheel when her arm was grabbed from behind.

  Dillon had put on a pair of opaque sunglasses, but even with his eyes obscured by the dark lenses she could tell that he was furious. Out of deference to curious passersby, he kept his voice low and taut.

  “What the hell was that all about?”

  “This isn’t the time or place to discuss it.”

  He lowered his face closer to hers. “The hell it’s not. Before I turn a single spade of dirt, I want to know if I’ve got shotguns aimed at my back. Who was that old bastard in the wheelchair?”

  “His name is Ivan Patchett, and he hasn’t always been in a wheelchair.” She raised her hand to brush back a strand of loose hair. Her hand was shaking. She hoped Dillon wouldn’t notice. “However, he has always been a bastard.”

  “Patchett? The soybean guy?”

  “That’s right. Now, please let go of my arm. I’ve been on public display enough for one morning. I don’t want to engage in a wrestling match with you here on Main Street.”

  He glanced down at his hand, which had shackled her upper arm. Apparently he hadn’t realized until then that he was touching her. He released her immediately. “The other guy was his son?”

  “Neal.”

  “What’s your beef with them?”

  “That’s my business.” She tried to get into the car, but he trapped her arm again as quickly as a snare.

  “You made it my business when you got me out of that L.A. jail.” As he strained each rough word through his teeth, his mustache barely moved. “You led me to believe that everything was going to be peachy keen down here in Dixie, that all the townsfolk were behind this thing one hundred percent, and that I’d have people lining up to work for me. Obviously that isn’t quite the way it is. I want to know what I’m up against.”

  “What you’re up against at the moment, Mr. Burke, is
me.” Despite the stragglers still ambling along the sidewalk, she wrenched her arm from his grasp. “Your responsibilities do not extend to public relations. That’s my department. From here on, I’ll thank you not to try and second-guess my motives. And I’ll fire you if you dare try to interfere.”

  She ducked into the car and slammed the door. She didn’t look back as she pulled out of the parking space and drove away.

  Jade knew Dillon had every right to be concerned about public support because it could radically affect his work schedule. Her dealings with the Patchetts, however, were none of his business and never would be. Besides, she didn’t think he would welcome knowing that he was playing even a small role in a revenge plot. In any case, she wasn’t going to tell him more than he needed to know.

  As she entered her house, her recently installed telephone was ringing. “Hello?”

  “Is the meeting over yet?”

  “Mr. Stein!” she exclaimed. “Yes, it just now concluded.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? I told you to call me.”

  “I was about to. I’m barely inside the door.”

  “Well? How did it go?”

  “Splendidly. We couldn’t have asked for a better response.” She briefly filled him in on what had transpired, omitting any mention of the Patchetts.

  “So, you’re still sold on the commercial potential of this area.”

  “Without qualification.”

  “Good. Then let me tell you about a few ideas I’ve been toying with.”

  Jade sat down to listen.

  * * *

  “Are you still here? Can’t you take a hint?”

  With the toe of his new shoe, Dillon nudged the stray dog aside as he unlocked the trailer door. “Beat it!” The mongrel looked up at him with woebegone eyes, lay back down on the step, and rested his head on his forepaws. “Suit yourself,” Dillon grumbled. “But don’t expect me to keep feeding you.”

  He slammed the trailer door so hard that the structure shook. Taking a soda from the refrigerator in the narrow kitchen, he stood in the wedge of cool air and drank half the soda in one swallow. He rolled the cold can against his forehead. “Dammit.”