The Truth About Jane Doe
Page 13
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You seem different, yet the same. I can’t put my finger on what it is.”
C.J. smiled. “It’s just that I look like a woman for a change, instead of the tomboy who helps you round up cattle.”
“Maybe,” he mumbled.
C.J. made her way to the front door, stopping short when she saw what was waiting for her outside. Harry was leaning against her red Camaro. Harry and Pete had given it to her when she graduated from college. She had driven it while she worked at the bank, but the car just wasn’t her style. It had been sitting in the garage for years.
“Since your truck’s in the shop, Harry cleaned up the Camaro. We figured no one would recognize you in it.”
“The Townsends aren’t going to try anything today. The tests are completed, and there’s nothing they can do to stop me finding out the results.” She could see Pete wasn’t quite satisfied. “I’ll stick to the interstate, no back roads. Would that make you two feel better?”
“Just be careful,” Pete said, as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “And call as soon as you get there.”
She started the engine. “Stop worrying,” she shouted as she accelerated down the road, heading for the rest of her life—whatever it held.
MATTHEW PACED THE FOYER of Ryder Laboratories, hoping C.J. would arrive early. He wanted to see her before all the Townsends turned up—and he felt sure they would, in fact, be here in force today.
He hadn’t seen or talked to C.J. in days, except to tell her the results were ready. He should have called her to make sure someone was coming with her. What was he worried about? he asked himself irritably. The ordeal was almost over. No one was going to hurt her now. But he couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling in his gut.
A red Camaro drove into the parking lot and a slim, beautiful woman in a white suit got out. Matthew blinked. Was that C.J.? He watched in awe as she walked across the pavement with an elegance and grace it took some women years to cultivate. She had to be the most striking woman he’d ever seen. As that familiar warmth curled through his body, he realized his feelings for C. J. Doe went deeper than he’d even begun to imagine.
C.J. pushed open the glass door and came to a sudden halt when she saw Matthew standing in the foyer. He had on a navy blue suit and a blue pin-striped shirt; the city man was back. But just the sight of him made the churning in her stomach dissolve into a warm pleasurable feeling.
She hadn’t seen him since that passionate kiss in his office, and now the sight of his handsome face weakened her resolve to keep some distance between them. It was for the best, she’d told herself a million times, but that had never eased the ache inside her.
“Morning.” He smiled tentatively as he walked toward C.J. He glanced at her with open approval; then forcing his eyes away, he asked, “Where’re Pete and Harry?”
“At home.”
He frowned. “They let you drive here alone?”
Her green eyes darkened. “They don’t let me do anything. I make my own decisions.”
“Okay, maybe I phrased that wrong,” he conceded, “but I thought they wouldn’t want you to go through this alone.”
“I’ve been alone all my life.”
He studied the fixed expression on her face. “You haven’t been alone, C.J.,” he said softly. “You have two old men who love you more than life itself. And you had Maggie.”
“Yes.” She gripped the strap of her purse, knowing she was being testy for no reason, but her nerves were tied in knots. “I’ve been lucky,” she added, feeling guilty because Matthew had to remind her. “Not everyone has such loving people to look out for them.”
“I’m not sure I’d use the word loving in connection with Harry.” Matthew’s mouth curved into a teasing smile.
She smiled back, some of her tension easing.
As they gazed at each other, the silence stretched. “I guess you’re waiting for the Townsends,” she finally said. “I’ll just go and see if Cliff is ready.”
As she walked away, he said, “C.J.”
She stopped and glanced back.
“I hope it turns out the way you want.”
“Thank you,” she replied, feeling an edge of uncertainty. How did she want the tests to turn out? All she knew—all she’d ever known—was that she wanted some answers to the mystery of her birth.
DR. RYDER’S OFFICE was packed. Matthew sat on his right, close to the desk. C.J. sat on the left, and the Townsends filled the chairs in between. As Matthew had expected, they were all here: Rob and Francine, Joyce and Thurman, Clare, Martha, John and the ever-present Stephanie.
“I wanted to see all of you today for a reason,” Dr. Ryder began. Several test tubes lay on his desk and he picked up one of them, “Someone has an avid interest in Ryder test tubes. They didn’t like the one we were using and decided to replace it with another.”
“What are you saying?” Rob asked coolly.
“I’m saying, Mr. Townsend, that someone broke into my lab and switched C. J. Doe’s vial of blood.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Rob said.
“On the contrary, Mr. Townsend. You see, I have a unique security system. The Ryder tubes all have numbers on them, and when we do a test, the tubes are done in numerical sequence. That’s how we knew the Doe tube had been switched.” He twirled the tube in his hand.
“This is the tube and if you’ll look closely, you can see there are no numbers on it.”
“Are you implying the Townsends had something to do with this?” John’s voice was harsh, challenging.
“I’m not implying anything. I just want everyone to know what happened.”
“Have the tests been done?” Rob asked impatiently.
“Yes. We try to guard for every contingency. So we draw three vials of blood from each person involved.”
“Then what are you going on about?” John grumbled.
“Do you have the results or don’t you?”
“What I’m going on about, Mr. Townsend, is that I don’t like my lab being broken into and my employees endangered.”
“What’s that got to do with us?”
“Who else would be interested in the test results?”
“Before you accuse anyone you’d better have some proof,” John hissed, clenching the arms of his wheelchair.
“I don’t. We checked the tube for prints, but of course there were none.”
“Then give us the results so we can get this thing over with,” John ordered.
Dr. Ryder scanned the room. “In case anyone’s interested, my security guard is doing fine.” Everyone, except C.J. and Matthew, stared back at him with indifferent expressions. Slowly he turned to the files on his desk.
He leafed painstakingly through them. Matthew knew he was stalling, making the Townsends squirm. He might not be able to prove they’d broken into his lab, but he was going to make them sweat before he told them anything.
Finally Dr. Ryder looked up. “Before I tell you the results, I want to say that we gave special attention to these tests, and I consider the findings to be accurate and precise. I want you to understand that the findings have to be in the upper nineties—like ninety-nine point nine or ninety-nine point eight—for a man to be considered the biological father. When the finding is lower, it’s less likely the man is the father.”
“You going to tell us or are you going to ramble on all morning?” John was getting impatient.
Dr. Ryder looked directly at him. “Since you’re so curious, Mr. Townsend, I’ll take you first.” He opened a file and paused, then said, “In your case, the percentage was very low. There is no way you could have fathered C. J. Doe.”
An audible sigh of relief escaped John and a satisfied smile spread across his face. But there was one Townsend left, and no one made a move or uttered a sound.
Dr. Ryder opened another file. “Now John Robert William Townsend. The percentage wasn’t as low as your father’s and—”
Rob managed to capture her hands, holding them tight. “Stop it!”
“Mrs. Townsend, there’s no reason to get this upset,” Dr. Ryder interjected. “Please let me finish.”
Francine leaned weakly against her husband.
“As I was saying,” Dr. Ryder continued, “even though your husband’s percentage isn’t as low as his father’s, it’s still too low for him to have fathered C. J. Doe.”
The Townsends broke into smiles and their tension decreased noticeably.
But not C. J. Doe.
She sat as if turned to stone. The pain in her chest became a sick and fiery gnawing. She’d never thought the truth would hurt so much. Losing the land and the money didn’t matter as much as the agony of not knowing. After all she’d been through and after all she’d given up, she still didn’t know who she was.
Dr. Ryder looked at C.J. “I’m sorry. We did the test twice. If you have any doubts, there’s some more extensive DNA testing that can be done.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, wondering if it was her own voice she heard or some person outside her body. She knew the results but was having difficulty assimilating them. Everything seemed unreal, like a bad dream.
“You’re damn right that won’t be necessary,” John said, his blue eyes piercing C.J. “We all knew you weren’t a Townsend, girlie.”
C.J. saw the hatred in the blue eyes and suddenly relief surged through her numb body. She was glad she wasn’t this man’s daughter.
“You get the papers out, Sloan,” John directed Matthew. “I want her to sign that land back to the Townsends today.”
“I’ll leave you to your legal matters,” Dr. Ryder said, and left the room.
Matthew opened his briefcase and took out the necessary papers. He laid them on Ryder’s desk and handed C.J. a pen. “Sign where the X’s are,” he instructed, wishing he was anywhere but here. The pain in her eyes tore him apart.
C.J. signed in the indicated places, surprised her hand wasn’t shaking because inside she was trembling as if she had a fever.
“This is the waiver, which we won’t need,” Matthew said as he sorted through the legal documents.
“No, we won’t need that, will we, girlie?” John snarled.
“You’re not a Townsend. You’re just a little nobody who—”
“Dad.” Rob stopped him. “It’s over. Let it be.”
“Not after the hell she’s put this family through,” John shot back, his hard eyes still on C.J. “You thought my wife’s lapse in judgment somehow linked you to the Townsend family. She only felt sorry for you, like everyone else in Coberville did. I never thought you’d be stupid enough to hand the land back without a fight. Whoever your parents might be, they aren’t very bright.”
C.J. stiffened, anger blasting through the shattered fragments of her ego. “I may not know who my parents are,” she told him, her voice strong and unwavering, “but I can honestly say with every breath in my body that I’m glad a cold cruel man like you is not my father.”
“How dare you!” John tried to get to his feet. “You little nobody, how dare you talk to me like that!”
Rob put a hand on his father’s shoulder and pushed him back into the wheelchair. “Calm down, Dad.”
“Don’t distress yourself.” Martha gently rubbed his arm. “You’ll have another stroke, and she’s—” her glance swung to C.J. “—not worth it.”
“The money,” John breathed raggedly. “I want her to release her claim on the hundred thousand dollars. That was the deal. She’d give everything back to the Townsend estate.”
Matthew spoke up. “It’s the Cober estate.”
“Cober? Townsend? What’s the difference?” John looked at him through narrowed eyes.
“The Cober estate belongs to your children, and the Townsend estate belongs to you and your children,” Matthew told him without blinking.
“You’re splitting hairs, Sloan, and I don’t like it.”
“The money being held at the bank is from the Cober estate, and I’m only trying to keep things legal. Besides, she’s already released her claim on everything.” He wasn’t sure why he was making such a big deal of it, but he felt John Townsend needed to be brought down a peg.
C.J. glanced at Matthew and their eyes locked. He wanted to help her and couldn’t. He wasn’t her lawyer.
She saw a spark of sympathy in his eyes and quickly turned away. He didn’t understand what she was going through. No one could.
“I’ll get the papers filed at the courthouse and that settles everything,” Matthew said, closing his briefcase.
“See that you do,” John muttered as the Townsends started to leave the room.
“Just one more thing.” Matthew stopped them. “As of this moment I am no longer the Townsend attorney, nor do I feel inclined to ever be so again.”
“You’d do well to remember which side your bread is buttered on, boy.” John sent him a chilling look. “I know some influential people who could make life real hard for you.”
Matthew’s eyes darkened with a warning. “I’ve been known to keep some influential people out of jail—and put them in—so before you start making threats, you’d better be clear about who you’re dealing with. Because there’s one thing I can guarantee you, Mr. Townsend—you don’t want to have to meet me in a courtroom.”
There was a dramatic pause as the two men faced each other. Joyce’s voice broke through the tension. “Come on, let’s go celebrate! We just had a great victory.”
John Townsend was the first to look away. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Stephanie quickly pushed him from the room with Martha by his side whispering, “It’s all right, John. Don’t worry about those people.”
The rest of the Townsends quietly followed. Clare hung back a moment, giving C.J. a sympathetic look.
Rob lingered in the doorway, saying to his wife, “Go ahead, I’ll be right there.” He spoke to Matthew. “I’m sorry things got out of hand today.”
“You don’t owe me an apology,” Matthew answered stiffly. “You owe that to C.J. All she wanted was some answers to the rumors that have been circulating around Coberville for years, and what she got was a flogging by the Townsends.”
Rob stared at C.J., and for a moment he looked about to respond, but then he turned and followed his family.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE ROOM WAS QUIET. Matthew watched C.J. as she sat with her head bowed, her whole demeanor one of despair. He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t.
“C.J.”
“Go away, Matthew.”
“C.J.”
She stood and walked to the window. Folding her arms, she stared outside. “Like they said, it’s a great victory,” she murmured, her voice bitter. “So why don’t you go join the Townsends and celebrate?”
He frowned, not liking the hardness in her voice. “Didn’t I tell you this could backfire?” he asked shortly. “I crossed the bounds of ethical conduct for you more times than I care to think about. So why are you blaming me?”
He was right. She was lashing out at him unfairly. But she was feeling so many painful things, she was barely conscious of her actions.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so confused and mixed up. I just keep feeling I let her down.”
“Who?”
“Victoria Townsend.” C.J. swung around to face him. “She left me that land for a reason, and I thought I knew what it was. I thought she wanted one of the Townsend men to face his responsibility.” She sighed deeply. “But it wasn’t true. None of the rumors were true. Nothing makes any sense, and I’m still back where I started—not knowing who I am.”
“But you know you’re not a Townsend.”
“Yes.” She gazed off into space.
Matthew couldn’t stand it. Her obvious distress was tearing him
apart. He had to do something to alleviate it.
“Let’s go have lunch,” he suggested. “You owe me a date, remember?”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I have to call Pete and get home.”
“Talking might help.” He didn’t want to let her go.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I need some time alone to sort through my feelings.” She glanced at the telephone.
“I wonder if Cliff would mind if I used his phone.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Matthew replied, and picked up his briefcase. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
When she came out of the office, Matthew could see she was feeling better. The dejected expression was gone and the fighting spirit was back in her eyes.
“How did Pete take the news?”
“With his usual coolness.” She gave a hesitant smile.
“He said the Townsends aren’t good enough to lick my feet.”
“He might be right,” Matthew said as they started toward the foyer.
“And he might be biased, too.”
“Sure you don’t want to go have lunch somewhere?” Matthew tried again, hoping she’d change her mind.
“I told Pete I was on my way home, and he and Harry will be clocking every mile.”
“I think the danger is over,” Matthew replied as they walked through the front doors. “Someone just got a little nervous about the test results.”
“But we’ll never know, will we?”
“Probably not.” They stood on the curb. “You got a good loaner,” he said.
She frowned, not following his words, then realization dawned. “Oh, the Camaro. That’s mine. I don’t drive it much. I prefer my truck.” Her eyes found his. “Thanks for helping me, Matthew, and I’m really sorry for snapping at you.”
He smiled and watched her walk away with her usual grace. Suddenly his attention was diverted by the screeching of tires. A tan pickup slid into the parking lot and was headed straight for C.J.