Nedra forged on. “We know that he’s your only grandchild, and that you would like to get to know him.”
She glanced at Sin. He wasn’t pleased with what she was saying, but she knew that he would never let Samuel Jamison know it. But her next words would test his resolve.
“If that’s your goal in supporting your son’s custody claim, we have no objection to you seeing Trevor.”
Sin almost lost it. She had to be kidding! This old man was undoubtedly the architect behind every move made by his son with no regard to Trevor’s well being. Why show him any consideration? It was difficult for him to remain silent as she continued.
“We know that your son isn’t interested in being a father to Trevor, but perhaps we could have the attorneys set up a visitation schedule for you with your grandson without Royce.”
Sin’s agitation was barely contained. This was it! Nedra was taking her Christian charity thing too far! He started to intervene, but years of instinct honed by experience told him to watch and wait.
Nedra withdrew her wallet from her purse and flipped through it. “Would you like to see a picture of Trevor? He’s a beautiful little boy, both inside and out.” She held the wallet out toward him expectantly.
“Are you two finished?” Samuel Jamison rested his hand on the telephone to his right. “If so, I’ll have my butler escort you out.” He completely ignored the picture. Soon, he would have the boy in person.
Sin watched in dismay as his wife visibly deflated. She had tried to take the high road and this old man had insulted her. He was incensed. Here was a man whose history showed that he was ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted. Why would he be any less so when it came to his grandchild? No! This man did not play fair, and neither would he. It was Sin’s turn to flip the script.
“We’re not finished.” Sin’s voice was coolly controlled.
“Oh, you don’t think so?” Samuel’s voice was just as cold.
“No, I don’t. You’re a very intelligent man, Mr. Jamison, but you made one big mistake in your effort to get our son.”
Samuel’s lip curled in a disdainful smile, “Hmmm, really. And what is that?”
“You let us come here and see you.” Sin took a seat this time and Nedra followed suit. He was taking control, and he wanted to be comfortable as he did so.
“It’s apparent that you’re ill.” Sin paused.
Samuel didn’t react. Any fool could see that he wasn’t well, but it no longer mattered if others knew. His goal would be achieved.
“And your point?”
“I don’t know the extent of your illness, it could be serious, and if it is then it’s understandable that you would want to spend what time you have left with Trevor. Yet, you didn’t give us the respect of coming come to us directly with that request.”
Sin glanced at Nedra who gave a small nod in support of the statement. Just as her husband had earlier she wondered where he was going with this approach. But as he had, she watched and waited. Sin turned back to Jamison.
“This being the case, I suspect something a little more sinister behind your wanting our son. After all, let’s face facts. His background doesn’t fit in with your social status in this community, but with your wealth you don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to stay in this country. You can take our son away, anywhere in this world, and no one would have to know about him.”
“That’s right,” Nedra interjected, growing less accommodating by the minute as she thought about what Sin said. “And we would never see him again.”
Samuel’s affect remained unruffled. “The court order says that my son can’t take the child out of the state or the country. Our family believes in obeying the law.”
Sin almost laughed aloud at that statement. That was one myth they were about to shatter into a million pieces. He turned to his wife. “Nedra, get the articles out of your purse, please.”
She knew what he intended to do. She still had reservations about this course of action, but the elder Jamison was leaving them little choice. Nedra handed the articles to Sin.
He held them up. “These are all about the death of your daughter.” Sin leaned forward and tossed them on the desk. “Just like you’ve done your research, Mr. Jamison, we’ve done ours.”
Samuel visibly reacted this time as his breathing escalated. These people have no right to talk about my Madeline!
“What does this have to do with the conversation at hand, Mr. Reasoner?”
Back on course, Nedra ignored his question and stuck to the script this time. “Your daughter was an excellent student from grade school to college, and she was also quite an athlete. She won numerous awards as a horsewoman. In addition, she did volunteer work. From everything we read, she was a wonderful young woman—good at everything she did. She never gave you a minute of trouble.”
“The exact opposite of Royce.” Sin took over. “No matter how hard Royce tried, your son couldn’t keep up with his sister. He didn’t do well in school, had very few friends and didn’t participate in sports.”
“Except for sailing, of course.” Nedra picked up the cue. “He did sail with a crew in a race once when he was a teenager. They came in third place.”
“I guess Royce wasn’t a complete failure,” Sin added sarcastically, unable to think of another good thing to say about him. “But no matter what he did, he couldn’t keep up with Madeline.”
“It had to be very frustrating for him competing with his sister,” added Nedra. “Your daughter was the perfect child.”
Sin continued. “So having read all about Madeline, we found it very difficult to understand why a girl like that would commit suicide. I’m sure that you must have wondered, too.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. Nedra and Sin didn’t let up.
“Of course we read that you considered your daughter’s death an accident,” Sin reminded him, “but there was a suicide note.”
“Typed,” Nedra added.
“Oh yes, that’s right.” Sin gave a dramatic pause. Mr. Jamison, does Royce know how to type?”
The senior Jamison clenched his jaw tightly. “You people are despicable. You have no right to come in here and insinuate.”
Sin had no mercy. “I know that he was there with his sister that day. The articles say he had visited her earlier. The doorman saw him and so did the security cameras. He went upstairs in the elevator.” He paused again. “But nobody could be sure what time he came down. The security camera that records the time didn’t see him leave. For some reason, he took the stairwell and not the elevator. I wonder why?”
Samuel had heard enough! Few people knew that the authorities wanted to investigate Royce regarding Madeline’s death, but Samuel had been too distraught to pursue even the possibility that his child’s death had been anything but an accident. He had dissuaded an investigation, dismissing any other possibility. He would believe nothing else.
He had the coroner fired that had ruled her death a suicide. He couldn’t bear to bury her. Madeline’s ashes had been placed in her room, and not a soul had been allowed to set foot in there since. When he died, her ashes would be scattered with his. Now, here were these people who had the audacity to put his child’s name on their lips. He was furious and would take no more.
“Your presentation is very interesting. Of course, it’s filled with fantasies and delusions, and if you repeat them, I’ll sue you both for slander. Let me assure you, I will win. I always do.
“I don’t think I made a mistake in inviting you to my home, Mr. Reasoner. I simply wanted to satisfy my curiosity about the two of you. After all, there was a miniscule of celebrity about your relationship in the past, and like so many others, I confess to some degree of voyeurism. Obviously, I have nothing else better to do.
I’ve now met you. You’ve been rude and insulting. Our visit is over. It’s time for you to go.”
The study doors opened as if on cue and the butler who had escorted them in appeared.
&nbs
p; “Charles, will you escort these people out of my house. It has been interesting. Have a nice day.” Samuel shifted his attention to an opened book on the desk.
Neither Nedra nor Sin appreciated his curt dismissal. They stood firm. Sin turned to Charles. “Will you excuse us for a second? We have more to say to Mr. Jamison.”
Charles looked at Samuel for instructions. Samuel hesitated, and for reasons he didn’t understand, he gave him a small nod in the affirmative. Charles exited, closing the door behind him.
“So what are your last words?”
Sin stood. Nedra stood beside him.
“This isn’t the end of it,” Sin warned. “This is only the beginning. We will keep our son.”
“You’ll have him until noon tomorrow.” Samuel returned his attention to his book.
Sin gripped the edge of the desk, leaned toward him and hissed. “You’re in for the fight of your life!”
Apprehensive at his tone, Samuel looked up to observe him. It was evident that his anger was barely contained. Samuel felt intimidated. Reasoner was much younger, bigger and fit. He had also been a gang member at one time. Who knew what he was capable of doing. Samuel eased opened the middle drawer of the desk where he kept a loaded thirty-two automatic. He made sure that they saw it.
Neither Sin nor Nedra flinched. They were on a mission, and victory was their only option. Their fear for their son overshadowed their fear of anything else. It was time for the truth to be told.
Sin observed the weapon. “What is this? Like father, like son? Are you going to kill us like your son killed your daughter? And that can be verified.”
Samuel shook his head sympathetically. “You people are desperate aren’t you? Now I can assure you of a slander suit. Get out of here.”
Nedra hadn’t wanted to do this to this man, but the truth would set him free. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but Royce did do it. Your son is a dangerous man.”
Sin went for the jugular. Mercy was Nedra’s domain. “He confessed to someone that he killed her. We’ve talked to the person. We know how your daughter died.”
“Get out!” Samuel was livid. His demand fell on deaf ears.
“We can’t let that man come anyplace near our son,” said Nedra. “The consequences could be grave.”
“I want you to think about this, Mr. Jamison,” Sin said. “If something happens to you, what becomes of Trevor? The boy is a threat to your son. Ask yourself, if you die will Trevor be safe with your son? Or do you plan on making an eight-year-old boy Royce’s next victim?”
“I want you out of here!”
“You let him get away with one murder. Are you going to let him get away with two?”
“Leave! Now!” Samuel slammed the desk drawer shut with finality. Looking concerned, Charles appeared in the doorway. He looked from his distressed employer to the couple who looked equally as distressed. He stood in the doorway like a menacing palace guard.
“Mr. Jamison says it’s time for you to go.”
Nedra and Sin had said what they came to say. They turned to exit, but before doing so, Nedra turned back to Samuel.
“I’m going to pray for you, Mr. Jamison, because a man in so much denial must also be in a lot of pain.”
Without another word, they followed Charles out of the room. When the door closed behind them, Samuel gave an audible sigh of relief. They had rattled him, angered him and as the minutes ticked by and he awaited Royce’s expected arrival, he realized that they had also made him think.
Royce’s behavior had been erratic since he was a child. Like himself, he was arrogant and self-centered—the privilege of wealth had honed those traits—but Royce was Jessica’s child. Her kind and gentle nature had prevailed in his sister’s life. Their personalities were different, but they shared the same blood. It wasn’t possible that he could have harmed Madeline. She had loved him dearly. He loved her. They were both Jessica’s children! The boy was her grandchild. The accusations made by the Reasoners’ couldn’t be true!
Chapter 35
Sin’s luxury vehicle pulled out of the gate of the Jamison estate and turned onto the street just as Royce’s sleek sports car pulled into the front gates. The cars went in opposite directions. Neither of their occupants noticed the other.
Royce was hung over and not pleased at having been summoned to his father’s home. He had started to ignore the request, but hope sprang eternal that perhaps the old man was taking his last breath. He wanted to be present for that, but it was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning and he was anxious to get back on the water.
His father’s butler met him at the door. The two men didn’t speak. They didn’t like each other. They never did. Charles had been with his father over three decades, and Samuel trusted him completely. To Royce he was an employee, a flunky, but his father had enough confidence in the man to send him to get Royce out of many unpleasant situations. Why his father held a servant in such high regard he would never understand. Charles nodded toward the study, indicating where Royce was to go.
While he awaited Royce’s entrance, Samuel sat deep in thought. Since Madeline’s death, he had not allowed himself to think about anything but business, and he certainly hadn’t allowed himself to feel. He had been on automatic since the death of the two people he loved most in the world. Until the possibility of his late wife’s grandchild coming into his life, he didn’t know that he could still feel. He had felt excitement. Unfortunately, that change in his life had come at the same time that he found out that he was dying. But that only meant that his last days would have something that had been missing for a while—purpose. Getting the boy became the only thing that mattered.
Everything had been going along smoothly until the Reasoners appearance. Sinclair Reasoner was right. He made a mistake letting them come into his home. Their visit now forced him to face some harsh realities that he had managed to avoid for years.
“You wanted to see me?”
Samuel’s cold eyes looked into those of the man standing in the opened doorway. As always, both pair of eyes masked their emotions.
“Come in, Royce, and sit down.” Samuel motioned to the chairs that he had offered to the Reasoners earlier. He entered and did as instructed. Samuel’s lip lifted into a half smile. One would think that after a lifetime Royce had learned to play the game.
The two men stared at each other for a moment, each sizing the other one up. It had always been like this between them, a silence that no words seemed capable of filling. Royce was the first to speak.
“I left the boat. I’m here. So, what was so important that you had to see me today? I thought the kid was being picked up tomorrow?”
There was disdain in his voice. Samuel had become so used to hearing it over the years that he had learned to tune it out, but today was different. He was aware of every aspect of the man sitting before him. Reasoner’s words echoed through his mind. He’s a sick man—
Royce gave a disgusted sigh. Had the old man gone deaf and dumb? He was staring at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. He glanced down at his watch. It was going on twelve. He had things to do.
“Will this take much more of my time? I want to get back to my boat while there’s still daylight.”
He looked up at the old man. He sat as still as a stone, staring at him.
“What’s going on? Why am I here?” He moved to the edge of his seat. The old man didn’t look good at all. He was awfully pale. “Hey, you okay?”
Samuel remained motionless. He heard hopeful excitement in Royce’s voice, not concern. Through all the years, he had never heard the latter. He’s mentally ill.
Royce’s excitement grew as the silence continued. The old man’s eyes had life in them, but he still wasn’t moving. He was cautious as he scooted up further in his seat.
“Can you talk? Are you having a stroke or something?”
Samuel wondered what Royce would do if he were. He forced himself to remain still. Your son is dangerous.
Royce got up from his chair and waved his hand in front of Samuel’s face.
“Can you hear me?”
There was no response. Royce nearly jumped for joy. Observing his father closely, he could see that he was breathing and blinking. If he was having a stroke shouldn’t he be limp or something? Shouldn’t his body be twisted? He wasn’t sure, but if the old man was having one, in his weakened condition it should kill him.
“Do you need help?” He sat back down in his chair to wait. “Let me know, and I’ll help.” If he waited long enough, they would be calling the coroner.
Samuel’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. What he heard and saw in Royce’s eyes and demeanor couldn’t be denied. He would gladly let him die. Sick! Mentally ill! Dangerous!
“You’d help me just like you helped Madeline?”
Samuel’s words brought Royce out of his chair. His eyes were as big as saucers.
“I…I…I…thought…”
“Did you kill your sister?” It was a question that had taken decades to ask.
“W…w…what?” Royce stammered, both shocked and angered at having been fooled into hoping.
“You killed your sister, didn’t you?” The words were filled with unbearable anguish. A sob tore at the old man’s throat. “You killed your mother’s first child!”
“You’re crazy!” What kind of game was the old fool playing? What had he found out? He had to be guessing.
“You did kill your sister.” It was with certainty that Samuel spoke this time. His sob turned into silent tears. A man in so much denial must also be in a lot of pain. “And when I’m gone, you plan on killing that boy.”
The sardonic chortle that Royce emitted had barely left his throat when the impact from the bullet ripped through his chest. It happened so quickly that he didn’t see it coming. Death was instant.
Drawn by the gunshot, Charles tore through the ornate door, his eyes searching for the sound’s source. Royce sat erect in his chair, facing his father. It looked as though the two men were engaged in conversation, except Samuel Jamison sat behind his desk holding a gun. Tears glistened on his face.
Sinful Intentions Page 32