Her Galahad
Page 18
"Have you been with him?" He spoke softly, his eyes narrowed, flashing the old danger signals. "Did you open your legs for a dirty half-breed con?"
She flung her head higher, filled with a pride and strength he'd never seen in her. "What my husband and I do is none of your business—and you know, better than most, why he was in prison. The police are about to know why, as well."
Cameron licked his lips. "How do you think your father and Duncan will feel about you selling out your own family—"
"I don't care," she stated with cold accuracy. "After what they did to me, and to my baby—oh, yes, I found out—I owe them nothing. I'm not your wife. I never have been, thank God! I never have to put up with you again."
"You're mine, no matter what a piddling certificate states!" Cameron's fists clenched; his tawny eyes glittered in the ferocious sexual heat that made her want to throw up. "Get over your stupid infatuation with that loser! You're mine, destined for me before we met. You're coming home with me now!" He pulled a gun from his pocket.
She'd waited two years for this moment. She'd often wondered whether she could do it, or if he'd intimidate her. But who he grabbed her, she responded automatically. She smashed down on his wrist, making the gun fly out of his hand. She planted her feet wide, grabbed his arm and flipped him over her head in a judo throw. He landed headfirst beside her with a thump in the middle of Victoria Road. When he struggled to get up, she put her foot on his chest. "Don't bother, Cameron. That's only one maneuver I've learned in the past few years to stop you touching me."
He sighed but looked up at her with mock-sad eyes. "You know you'll regret this, Theresa. You're sick, and I'll prove it."
She merely grinned at him, and kept her foot firmly planted on his chest. "Control can be addictive, can't it, Cameron?"
The man she'd rammed into approached her with mingled respect and caution, and helped her hold Cameron down. "Whoa, lady, that was awesome. I'm glad I didn't come at you with my fists!"
The police arrived, and she was more than happy to ride in the back of the squad car to the City of Sydney Police Station.
* * *
Jirrah bolted up the steps of the massive building, too intent on finding Tess to remember the last time he'd been here—hauled up the stairs in handcuffs.
She said she'd been arrested. What was Beller doing? If he were trying to claim her as his wife, he'd have the fight of his life to do it. He'd get that mongrel out of her life—
He entered the building, and jerked back in shock. Beller was sitting with his head in his hands in the waiting area while Tess serenely gave her statement to a young policewoman and an older woman, as calm as if Beller weren't only twenty feet away.
"Tess," he called. He looked at the policeman at the desk. "I'd like to sit with my wife."
The policeman looked from him to Tess to Beller and back again, his eyes confused.
Tess turned to the constable. "Can my husband come in?"
The policeman still looked confused, but let him pass.
"He's not her husband." Beller got to his feet in an unsteady motion. "Check with Paul Saunders, her psychiatrist. She doesn't know who she is, because of her mental problems. Check her driver's license. She's Theresa Rachel Beller, my wife."
The policewoman frowned. "If you claim this man here is your husband, why is the name on your license Theresa Beller?"
"That's why we're here. Here's the marriage license for the wedding to Mr. Beller. See the date?" Tess turned to Jirrah.
"Did you bring our marriage certificate with you?"
It seemed she wanted to handle this situation. Feeling more than a little superfluous, he handed the papers over in silence.
She passed the sheaf of papers to the women. "See the date? Despite appearances, I am not Theresa Beller. I married this man, David Oliveri, a month before the wedding to Mr. Beller."
"The man is a convicted felon!" Cameron interrupted again. "I don't know what he's done to convince her of these lies, but—"
"Wait a minute, sir. I want details of the MVA. That's my department," the older woman said, looking confused. "CID can sort out which man is married to the lady."
"While they're working it out, I'd like to make complaints about the crimes committed against my husband by Mr. Beller and my brother, Duncan Earldon. There's conspiracy to pervert the course of justice, perjury, conspiracy to commit bigamy—"
A feral scream split the air, making almost everyone in the building jump. "There-sa!"
"And complicity to unlawfully put a child up for adoption." Tess was the only one who seemed unruffled by Cameron's yell. "I'm sure you'll find a few others if you dig deep enough."
"Don't forget the charges of attempted bribery." Jirrah plucked the two cheques out from the pile.
She gave him a smile almost blinding in its beauty. "Yes, of course. That's right. Thanks."
He couldn't help smiling back at her, but he wondered what the hell had happened to make her so strong and self-assured.
The cops looked at Beller, then at her. "You know the law?"
"My family are barristers. So is Mr. Beller."
The women blinked. "Look, Mrs.—um—we want to sort out the motor vehicle accident, and who assaulted who. We'll call in CID for the other allegations."
Jirrah, seeing she'd confused them almost beyond hope of recovery, said, "Ho w about you explain what happened tonight, Tess, from the beginning?"
She told her story from the time she left the hotel to her arrest; and Jirrah battled twin feelings of awe and loss. He was so damn proud of Tess for taking Beller down, and coming into her own strength; but he felt unnecessary. If she could take care of herself, what was left for him to do but walk out of her life when he gave her justice and freedom?
One of the policewomen asked a question. "Was Mr. Beller under the lawful impression that you're married to him?"
"That's what we need to talk to the detectives about," he said. "Our lawyer should be here any minute now."
Rod arrived as he spoke, and they were all conducted to an interview room.
The two detectives ran the same gamut of disbelief as Rod, and filled with the same grim purpose within minutes of seeing the certificates and cheques. They checked Jirrah's case on the database, and saw Cameron's name and Duncan's come up as star witnesses. They checked the dates of the court case against Tessa and Cameron's marriage certificate—and found irrefutable proof of conspiracy to commit bigamy, at least. "We need to talk to Mr. Beller," one detective said. He called to the young man at the front desk. "Bring Mr. Beller in here, please."
"He left a few minutes ago." The constable faltered. "I'm sorry. He wasn't in any trouble, was he?"
Jirrah's eyes met Tessa's, seeing his fear mirrored back at him. They knew where Cameron, thwarted of his control over her, would go—to find the only person who could help him regain his power over the woman he considered his wife, his possession.
They pushed their chairs back simultaneously.
"Wait. You can't go now," the detective said flatly. "We need you to make your statements, or we can't proceed with the case against Mr. Earldon and Mr. Beller."
"Sit down," Rod added. "We have to put this in motion before we can do anything else. And Tessa needs to sign a statement admitting culpability in the MVA before they'll let her go anywhere. Your car needs to be seen to, as well, doesn't it?"
"No." Her voice was thin, scratchy with fear. "Only the bull bar has any damage." Her hand groped until it found his.
Jirrah looked at her again, seeing the same sick fear in her eyes he knew filled his own. Every minute they delayed, Beller got a step closer to Emily—and they still had no idea where to find their daughter. Beller now knew he had no hope of getting out of this unscathed unless he had insurance. They had to get out of here fast. But what choice did they have?
He sat down again, and saw Tess, white-faced, follow suit.
* * *
Chapter 16
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Jirrah shrugged. "I thought we'd find it empty by now. Duncan's had a whole day."
"We have enough on him and Beller for an open and shut case, anyway," Rod added. "This is nothing big."
"It is to us," Tessa flashed. "I don't care about the case, I want information on Emily! Our daughter's in danger, Rod, in case you've forgotten!"
"Sorry," Rod replied, in quick sincerity. "I was thinking like a lawyer." He shrugged, reading the single sheet. "This is just the legal partnership between Duncan Earldon and Cameron Beller at Keith Earldon's retirement Beller was made a full partner six years ago. Now he's a co-owner of the firm."
Tessa felt the blood drain from her face, sidetracked for a moment from her desperate fear. "So it was all a lie," she whispered. "Cameron never owned Earldon Associates. Dad knew. My own father blackmailed me into marrying Cameron!"
Jirrah said quietly, "Don't think about it yet, Tess. There's nothing here on Emily—that's what counts. We have to find her fast. Beller probably knows where she is by now."
Tessa squared her shoulders, tossed her braid back. There was only one reason Duncan left that paper behind: to let her know her father was in on the bigamy. A last-ditch effort to stop her from pressing charges. "Then we'll see my father. He'll know where she is, if anyone does."
Jirrah's mouth quirked. "Are you okay with that?"
She shrugged, to cover the deep sense of shame and pain the thought of facing her father evoked. Seeing the guilt in his eyes … or worse, no guilt at all. "I have to be, don't I?"
Rod left for his office, and Jirrah and Tessa headed north, to Keith Earldon's exclusive beachside property.
The housekeeper let them in, welcoming her home with genuine pleasure. "He's upstairs in the solarium, Mrs. Beller," Joan said, with the formality Keith Earldon insisted on despite more than ten years of service. "I'll bring you some coffee. Shall I show you up first?"
"No, thanks. We know the way."
With a curious glance at the man she remembered, and had also believed dead, Joan retired to the kitchen.
Tessa's first sight of her formidable father in over a year came as a shock. Her heart twisted. He sat in a large padded rocking chair covered in a blanket. His gaze was to the world outside, watching dark clouds racing over the Tasman Sea toward the coastline. He looked every single one of his sixty-eight years. He was thinner than the fine, robust figure of a man she'd seen last; his hair was closer to white than iron gray.
Was that a tremor in his hands?
But the hawklike face that had terrorized many witnesses in court, though more lined, perhaps a little sadder, was as sharp and haughty as ever.
"Hello, Dad," she said quietly.
Keith Earldon turned his head, his eyes alight with eagerness. "Theresa, baby, you came back…" Then the flicking glance took in Jirrah standing protectively behind her, and his expression turned cool, assessing, with a hint of pain in their depths. "I see." He paused. "You're only here for answers, I take it."
More taken aback than she'd ever admit by his out-front admission that he'd known Jirrah was alive, she nodded. "I need to know if you helped them to hurt David."
"It's all right, Tess," Jirrah interrupted her. "I'm sure Beller keeps him updated. He must know my new name by now."
She stared at him for a moment, then turned back to her father. "Did you help get Jirrah imprisoned?"
"No." Her father looked out the window. "I told them this scheme would backfire one day. So I didn't get involved."
"But you knew." She sat beside his chair, just out of reach. "You knew Jirrah was alive, and you let me grieve. You made me marry Cameron, even though you knew I was committing bigamy!"
Keith shrugged, in the gesture of a tired old man. "I knew, yes. I had nothing to do with their plans, though."
"Why, Dad?" she whispered. "You broke the law you've upheld for forty years. You were an accessory by your silence. How could you know what they did to him, and not put a stop to it?"
He turned to look at her then. "That man could never he what I wanted for you, Theresa."
"What you wanted for me. What about what I wanted, Dad? What about ruining Jirrah's life? You helped send an innocent man to prison by your silence!" she replied passionately. "Why didn't any of that count with you?"
His hand trembled as he reached out to lay a hand on her hair, but revolted, she moved out of reach. "So like your mother," he murmured, dropping his hand. "Rachel had such glorious passion for life—such intense feeling. I loved her from the moment I saw her on a stage in Montreal, talking about indigenous rights." He added, with a sigh, "Cameron worshipped you the moment he saw you. Just like I did with your mother."
Knowing her father well, Tessa said nothing, waiting.
"We promised him," Keith sighed. "We promised he could have you when you were old enough."
"And what about me? What about what I wanted? Did that ever occur to you and Duncan?"
Her father, the man who'd been the center of her world, looked at her in solemn tenderness. "Of course it did. I wouldn't have dreamed of agreeing with Cameron's scheme if you hadn't forced my hand. If you'd chosen another man. One worthy of you."
"You married someone the same yourself. My mother was Native Canadian! How can you hate Jirrah for being what my own mother was—for what your children are?"
He shrugged. "I made a mistake," he stated simply. "One I wanted to save you from repeating. We should breed the bad blood out. It's foolish to marry outside your social sphere. Passion dies in the end, and all you have left are the differences. They can't be better people—they can't change what they are."
In sorrow, Tessa realized her father had no idea what he'd said, and he probably never would.
She turned to look at Jirrah. He hadn't stiffened at Keith Earldon's unthinking arrogance. He wasn't displaying any signs of anger. He waited in silence, understanding her need to talk to her father, ready to protect her if need be. Her heart swelled in tender gratitude for the only man who respected her enough to believe she could handle her own life.
She stood silent, at a sudden loss for what to say next.
"Tess. Emily."
The quiet words drew her back from her pain' and gave her a forward direction. She flicked a smile at him before turning back to her father. "We want to know where our daughter is."
Her father's frown grew deeper. "Why? She's well and happy. If you want children, you and Cameron can—"
"Dad, you know I'm never going back to Cameron."
Keith Earldon sighed. "He's a good man. Wasn't he a kind and loving husband? Yet you persist with this silly fabrication of—"
"Emily, Dad," she broke in yet again. "I know you know the truth. Where is my daughter?"
The phone rang beside him at that moment. "Yes? Duncan? You're what?" He gave Tessa a narrowed-eyed look. "Yes, she's here. I will, son. I'll be there soon." He hung up the receiver. "So you've already done you worst. You association with this person has ruined us all. You've betrayed your family. You'd send you brother, your own husband to prison for him!"
Suddenly a cold fire burned in her. She got to her feet, her pain and sorrow submerged in icy strength. "Jirrah is my husband—my legal husband," she reminded him in tones of ice. "He's done nothing wrong in seeking justice for the wrongs done to him by my family, who betrayed me by putting my husband in prison for a crime he didn't commit. By taking my daughter from me and giving her to strangers! How could you, Dad?" she cried in anguish. "How could you send an innocent man to prison, and give away your only granddaughter?
Did you never feel any conscience over what you'd done to us? How could you get rid of Emily as if she didn't matter?"
His dark-ringed hazel eyes flashed. "I know she's my grandchild. I placed her in a good home, with loving people. You think I didn't care? But I couldn't
blame Cameron for wanting her gone. If you were going to settle to a happy life, a living reminder of your past mistakes was the last thing you needed."
"The only mistake I made was trusting my family," she replied bitterly. "It was all lies about Cameron saving our home, you business. You were in on the plot to make me marry him!"
"I only did what was best for you."
"No. You treated me as a prized possession, not a woman with feelings of my own. Is this how you treated my mother?"
Her father paled so fast it frightened her.
She rubbed her neck, feeling tired, besmirched by the hideous truth behind the loving facade of her family. "Just tell me where to find Emily. I don't want to look at you anymore."
"Theresa." Her father's voice quivered. "I miss you, baby. If you come home to your family, no one would mention—"
She kept facing the window, watching the breakers over the rocks of Avalon Beach to the south. "I have no home. I have no family left but my daughter. If you ever loved me at all, give me her address, and let me live my life in what peace I can find."
Jirrah saw her father flinch with the rock-hard determination beneath the dispassionate demand of her words. He almost shivered himself, in awe at her clearness of purpose, her depth of strength against the man who'd brought her up. He knew now—as Keith Earldon probably did too—what a mistake it was to underestimate a woman on a mission to find her only child.
The old man sighed and walked with slow, halting steps to his safe. He extracted some papers, then began writing on a piece of paper at his desk. He placed the written sheet on top of the sheaf. "These are her finalized adoption papers, with her family name. And this is her address now."
Tess snatched at the top paper, her vivid face filled with life in an instant. Her eyes blazed gold as she devoured the words. Then she whitened, gasped, and swayed. "This—oh, dear God—this—this must be a joke…" She closed her eyes. "Of course. When I saw the ad for the job at Lynch Hill, I thought it sounded familiar. I walked in on you with Max Farrars one day, talking about it." She turned on her father in a flash. "You were talking to him about her. You've known all along where she was. You've had me traced since I left Sydney, haven't you? How could you let me live right near my own daughter, teach my own child, and not tell me? Did you think it was funny? Were you laughing at me, thinking it was a good joke?"