by Roze, Robyn
“I suppose a part of me does. The part of me that wants to make them squirm, make them agonize over the end of their world, knowing all the while it’s me who will expose them. Me. The one who didn’t quite measure up, the one who wouldn’t play by their rules. The one they’ve lied to and held in contempt from the beginning.”
She brought the hot mug to her lips and fueled her tank.
“I want to yank the noose tight before I kick the stool out from under their feet. It’s what they deserve. And make no mistake, if my father were still alive,” her face darkened, “I’d make him pay too.”
****
She phoned Tucker before heading to JAMESCO and told him of the upcoming meeting with Sarah, promising to fill him in later with the details. She’d learned her lesson last night, knew she needed to keep him in the loop. No way would she let Dan show her up again like he had last night. He’d enjoyed himself at her, and Tucker’s, expense a bit too much. Regardless of what her ex-lover, ex-boyfriend, ex-whatever-the-hell-he’d-been wanted to believe, she was making progress in the couples’ department.
Baby steps for some, monumental leaps for her.
Dan sat off in a corner biding his time. He hadn’t stood when the matriarch entered the wide angular space. Kat wasn’t sure Sarah had even noticed him with his head propped against his thumb and forefinger, ankle resting on his knee, foot jiggling in a frenzy, a sharp contrast from his otherwise placid demeanor. Kat hadn’t bothered to stand either when Sarah crossed the threshold, preferred to recline in her father’s chair, hands linked in her lap.
Sarah stood in front of the ornately carved executive desk, her face marked with irritation, expectancy, and the march of time. Her lips pursed in obvious disdain at having been kept waiting for almost a half hour while Kat had done not one damned thing in particular. She knew what Miss Manners wanted, her body twitching with impatience in front of her. And she wasn’t about to follow etiquette with this woman.
“Do you remember Dan Walsh, Sarah?” The older woman’s lines deepened and she appeared confused, caught off guard. Kat’s eyes drifted to the brooding hulk in the corner. “I brought him to some clambakes, a Fourth of July or two at the beach house, dinners at the penthouse …” Her attention skipped back to Sarah. “You always hated it so much whenever I brought him, I thought you might remember.” Kat flashed a smile so quick it barely qualified.
Sarah glanced at Dan as if he held a tin cup and a placard begging for spare change. She shook her head in apparent antipathy and barely concealed disgust as her focus rejoined Kat’s, her veined hands clutching even tighter the Prada bag in her grasp.
“I can’t say I do, Kathryn. But then again,” her cold eyes flicked to her manicured nails, “you brought so many men home over the years.”
The woman’s arrogant stance seemed to waver under Kat’s shrewd scrutiny.
“Careful, Sarah. You don’t want to smile too much. That horrendous lipstick you’ve painted on will bleed out into all those cracks.”
The smugness vanished.
A snort and chuckle echoed from the corner.
“You can leave now, Dan. I can handle it from here.”
Kat’s eyes never left Sarah’s.
“Want me to pat her down before I step outside?” He moved beside the woman, hands out, ready for a feel. The indignant woman huffed and inched away.
“Nah, not necessary. Her type never does their own dirty work. They just pay someone else.”
Dan sighed as if genuinely disappointed. “Well, all right, but I’ll be right outside the door. Holler if you need me.”
“I certainly will. Thank you.” The door clicked shut.
The two women stared daggers at one another.
“Well?” Sarah finally muttered with annoyance.
“If you’re waiting for an invitation to sit, forget it. You can stand on your head or sit on your ass for all I care.”
Sarah’s eyes flared. “How dare you speak to me that way! You have always been ungrateful. I’m your mother and I’ve always done what I felt was best for you. No matter how much you fought me at every turn.”
She straightened her back and smoothed the front of her red Armani swing jacket, her emotions closer to the surface than Kat had ever witnessed.
“What you’ve done to your brother is reprehensible and nearly unforgiveable, Kathryn. Sending police to his home last night. What a disgrace to implicate him in your problems. Not to mention embarrassing him in front of the board with your uncertain power.”
Kat’s lips quirked in amusement.
“Oh, I’m more than certain about my power, and you will be too before you leave here. And the fact that your concern is for the police merely questioning Parker’s whereabouts last night, rather than the fact someone broke into my home,” Kat’s eyes bore into Sarah’s, “is to be expected, I guess. But none of that is why you’re really here, and we both know it.” Kat paused, sized up the woman before her. An aura of insecurity surrounded Sarah James.
“You’re here to find out what I know. You’re here to find out if you’re going to lose your standing among New York’s elite.” Kat smirked. “I’ll give you a hint. You’re going to lose your seat on the executive committee for the Viennese Opera Ball for starters. As a matter of fact, I’m certain you won’t be in attendance at all. The diplomats and dignitaries and the rest of high society won’t want the stink of your bad press to taint their charity gala.”
Sarah blinked back disbelief even as her pale pallor receded further, but she recovered.
“You need to think about the family you have remaining, Kathryn. You need to think about how your actions and decisions affect all of us, not to mention the legacy of JAMESCO.” She cleared her throat and steadied her posture. “I can assure you whatever it is you think you know, you are wrong. You have to take into consideration your father’s state of mind when you saw him at the hospital.”
“So you’ve said.” Kat leaned forward and folded her arms on the desktop. “Let’s cut to the chase. What I know is that your son is a monster, and you’ve been covering for him for thirty-eight years. You’re complicit in the murder of Rose Kelley—my real mother.” Sarah’s knees buckled and she dropped into the wingback behind her. “She’s the only family I’m thinking about right now.”
Kat once again reclined in the lush padded seat, even rocked a bit as she basked in the release, the monumental relief of the truth spoken out loud. Her heart raced from the revelation. The woman who had pretended to be her mother all these years appeared stupefied. She couldn’t wait to hear the spin, the distortions that would come out of Sarah James’s lying mouth next.
“At least now I understand why Parker has always been your favorite. Or perhaps he’s not so much your favorite as he is a monster you fear. A killer you have to appease.” Kat caught the slight twitch in Sarah’s eye.
“And then there’s me. That all makes sense now too. What woman would be happy raising the child of her husband’s mistress? The woman he actually loved.” Kat’s chin lowered. “When did you realize why Father named me Kathryn?” Sarah remained stoic. “Rose. Kathryn. Kelley. Father called her Katie. Only he called her by that name. That must’ve felt like salt ground in a wound every time you heard him say it.”
Kat sat up, angled slowly across the desk. “How unfortunate for you Parker left a loose end. Was he supposed to kill me that night too, Sarah?” The accused sat mute, a silent pleading of the Fifth. “The crime scene reports say it appeared the murderer was interrupted. We both know who stopped him … and saved me.” Kat waited for some hint of admission. None, other than the confession in those dour eyes.
“Then the coverup, the payoffs, and the lies began. You had your hands full, I’m sure: what to tell the staff, how to sell it convincingly to your friends and family, a forged birth certificate, discreet therapy for your psychotic son.” Sarah remained motionless, like a cadaver, eyes yet to be stitched shut.
The wide sweep of Kat’s arm fol
lowed by the loud crash of everything on the desk careening onto the floor brought Dan rushing in.
“It’s okay. Just doing a little housecleaning.” Kat gestured to the now-bare desk. Dan looked ready to speak. She raised her hand in reassurance. “Really, everything is fine.” He reluctantly eased out and closed the door. Her focus zoomed back in on Sarah.
“The only question I really have for you is did you ask Parker to do it? Or did he overhear the arguments between you and Father about him wanting a divorce? Him wanting to marry my mother.”
The woman’s complete lack of physical and verbal response pinched Kat’s last nerve. Her palms slammed against mahogany. Sarah jumped with a startled gasp.
“I can’t believe any mother would knowingly involve her son in something so heinous, so unforgivable.” She paused, reflected on the stranger before her. “But I can’t help but wonder. You had so much to protect, so much to lose.”
Kat shook the demons loose and drew in a deep breath.
“You don’t want to say anything—to defend or implicate yourself. I get that. You’re a smart woman. I’ve always known that, regardless of what you think. You’re right. You really should have an attorney present, because you’re going to need one. Parker is too. The world you’ve created, the charade you’ve dedicated your life to maintaining, is about to come to an end, Sarah. Very soon.”
Kat stood. “You should leave now. Run to your son and tell him I know everything. Tell him it’s not just the words of a dying man that will convict him, but the mountain of evidence my father left behind—just for me.”
Direct hit, target shaken.
Crow’s feet deepened, her eyes glinted with fear. A clammy sheen glistened on deathly pale skin. Bony fingers pulled at a noose growing tighter by the minute.
One corner of Kat’s mouth lifted in morose pleasure.
“I had no idea just how deeply your father’s passing had affected you, Kathryn. It’s clear to me now the weight of his sudden death and the immense pressures of running his business are simply too much for you. You’re falling apart, making wild accusations, and behaving unseemly.”
Kat cocked her head in warning. “That’s the card you’re going to play? Really?
“When I was much younger, I used to wonder why you tried so hard to make me into someone I clearly wasn’t—your clone, as if I weren’t good enough, exactly as I am. But now that I’ve had my eyes opened to some pretty fucking harsh realities,” Sarah winced at the expletive, “I get it. I understand why you tried so damned hard to make me over in your image.” Kat braced her hands on the desk, arms straight, and leaned closer to Sarah.
“It wasn’t enough my mother was dead. You wanted to erase every last piece of her from me, and replace it with you.” Kat straightened back up and folded her arms across her chest. Judge and jury. “The fact that I look so much like her must be a real slap in the face every time you see me, a reminder of the victim and murderer you’ve kept hidden all these years.” She paused and calculated her next move.
“Are you sure he stopped with my mother?” Kat waited for the question to sink in. Then the doubt rose in Sarah’s worried eyes. “Because I’m not. You may have more blood on your hands than just Rose Kelley’s.”
Kat strode to the door and placed her hand on the burnished handle, but didn’t pull it open.
“It’s time for you to leave.”
Sarah took a few moments to gather herself. Her hands clutched the armrests for balance, but she eventually rose, unsteady at first. She faltered a bit on her path, her normally erect posture seemingly diminished once she finally met Kat at the door. Sarah seemed to have trouble making eye contact. The mask of arrogance she’d worn earlier now dangled in despair. Kat wanted to send her back to 5th Avenue tumbling end over end.
“You need to grasp the gravity of this situation, Sarah. I’m not some raving lunatic, and you’re not going to quiet or control me with public pressure. You and Parker need to get that through your thick heads. Right now.” Kat inched closer; Sarah shrunk back.
“The police were unable to find the knife Parker used to butcher my mother.” Her words were measured, steady and cold as a January wind. She waited until Sarah’s wary eyes lifted to hers. “But I know where it is. And I’ll be turning it over to the authorities, along with everything else.”
Sarah stumbled, braced her hand against the wall. The matriarch had never looked so frail, so small. Even her impeccable breeding with its indoctrination in all manner of social graces and her own mastery at concealment could not prepare her for handling the ultimate demise of everything she’d worked for her entire life. The stain on her name, the tarnish to her family’s legacy, would probably unhinge her in the end.
Kat opened the door and waited. Sarah appeared rooted in place, dazed, then gained traction and retreated with a halting gait, clinging possessively to her bag.
Dan frowned as the dismissed woman passed by him, then his eyes swung to Kat, his finger pointing after Sarah. “What’d you do to her?”
Shoulders lifted. “You know how charming I can be.”
Dan followed Kat back into her office, closed the door, and positioned himself beside her at the window, the wide-angle view of the city sprawled before them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Kat.”
Her eyes widened with incredulity. “How could I possibly know? I have no frame of reference for anything that’s happened since my father died. There’s no Dummies manual for this. Maybe I’ve overplayed my hand in the last twenty-four hours, I don’t know,” she said, hands raised in question. She then folded her arms across her body with an exasperated sigh. “But I had to see their faces, be the one to tell them, watch their reactions.” She closed her eyes, head shaking. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“Just because you turn over evidence doesn’t mean this will be over, Kat. It’s only the beginning of a very long road. You know they’re going to have the best attorneys money can buy to shut this down.”
“You don’t know what kind of evidence I have, Dan. Parker isn’t going to walk. Sarah might, but she’ll be a mere shadow of her former self after this hits.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what you’ve got? Or am I going to have to read about it in the papers like everybody else?”
She weighed the options. “You’re going with me to see an attorney tomorrow; you’ll find out then. She’s going to navigate the NYPD and the prosecutor’s office for me. I don’t want any chain of custody issues or lost evidence. I’d like your input and help with that.”
He nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
“At this point, I’d pay people off to do the right thing. God knows enough money exchanged hands in the past to get them to do the wrong thing, to keep it all quiet ... buried.”
Her watery gaze flicked to the rolling gray clouds. A storm brewed outside, and inside. She drew a deep breath and found her center again.
“When this is finally over, and I actually have the time to wrap my brain around all of this—my new reality—I’m going to need to schedule time off for a proper breakdown. Way the hell away from here.”
The three old friends consumed pizza and beer and yet still managed to get Kat’s apartment whipped back into shape. Cassie and Dan had had their usual arguments about politics and religion, with Kat playing referee. Well, goading them, really. She’d always gotten such a kick out of watching them go at it. Those two were like oil and water. The pizza pie, the music playing in the background, and the friendly bickering all helped to transport Kat back to the old days, which helped to redirect her mind away from the present for a while.
Cassie must have noticed the smiles lit with nostalgia and the wistful glances, because she’d repeated her warning to Kat on her way out about not falling into old habits with Dan. And she’d also questioned, again, Tucker’s sanity for putting the two of them together at all. Kat couldn’t argue the point. The Walsh-James chemistry had always been undeniable and obvi
ous to those around them.
Now the former on-again-off-again couple sat in opposite seats, chairs tilted back with feet propped on the dining room table. Music echoed softly from the living room, relaxing them further as they drank their beers and enjoyed the warm glow of a mild buzz.
“I’ve got a top-notch security system now according to you.” Kat pointed her bottle at Dan. “So I’ll be just fine. No need for you to sleep on the couch.”
“It’s that or the bench across the street. You’re not really going to make an old friend sleep outside, are you?” He gave her a wolfish grin and chugged some more beer, his eyes fixed on her.
“I think you need to let someone who hasn’t been drinking take over your shift. Your client’s safety is your top priority, right?” She dropped her feet to the floor and sat up.
He planted his nearly empty bottle on the table and scooted it away.
“Nobody’s getting near you. I know what I’m doing.”
Kat grabbed both bottles and moved to the kitchen. She poured out the remainder of his beer, then tossed the empties into the recycle bin. She crossed her arms and faced him over the raised breakfast bar, determination bright in her eyes. In the past, being alone with him would’ve guaranteed sex. They’d never been able to keep their hands off each other—except for the times they dabbled in other relationships—and then always ended up back with each other.
“We’re not getting naked, Dan. I’m with Tucker now, and I will not screw that up.”
The front legs of his chair slammed to the floor. He cut around the table and leaned down on the bar top, eye level with her, openly assessing her conviction.
“Why him, Kat?”
“Instead of you?”
“Hell yes, instead of me. With our history? Goddammit, we were good together.”
His eyes pleaded for her agreement.
“Not good enough.”
“Oh, and your farmer is?”