The Tolling of Mercedes Bell: A Novel (51 page)

“The only misunderstandings we have are yours, I’m afraid,” she began. “First, you can’t come here. We have restraining orders against you, as you know. You must stay one hundred yards away from the premises, so I suggest you make yourself scarce before I call the police. Second, don’t call me. I’m represented by counsel. I have nothing more to say to you now, and whatever I have to say in the future will be said by Caroline.”

He reached out his arms to touch her. She took another step back.

“Bella, I think when you left you took the crystal goblets Damon gave us for a wedding present. Also, there are some tools missing. And I want to see Germaine. I need to come inside.”

“You need to
leave.
I assure you, I didn’t take any crystal, or any of the other gifts from your friends. I don’t have any of your tools, either. I’m not the thief, remember? That’s
your
specialty.” With each sentence her voice increased in volume. “Moreover, you have enough money to buy yourself a boatload of crystal and a hardware
store,
okay? So this is just an excuse for you to harass me. We’re not going to discuss Germaine.”

He flinched as though she’d slapped him.

“You’ve
lost
me. You’ve
lost
her. You’re a cold-blooded liar and a crook and a ruthless, self-centered bastard!
Now go to your car and drive away! GET OUT OF HERE!”
she roared.

He looked down and fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, as if to buy more time, then tottered up the stepping stones to his car and left.

T
HE NEXT MORNING SHE REPORTED
the incident to Caroline, who called Jack to reaffirm that he could be arrested for violating a court order. A hearing in the dissolution proceedings had been calendared, she reminded him, and until then, any issues he cared to raise must be discussed with her alone.

No matter how much anger and disgust she mustered, it did nothing to ease the sorrow and grief Mercedes sequestered inside. She had to keep plodding forward and let the events that had been set in motion continue along their trajectory. After lunch, she went by the reception area to check for messages and was there when Darrel and John Slayne exited the elevator. They were in dark suits, carrying briefcases and talking animatedly. When Slayne spied Mercedes, he fell silent and looked at her with his big brown eyes.

“We’ve had quite a morning, Mercedes,” Darrel said. He glanced at his partner, saying, “We might as well tell her. She’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“Find out what?”

“Follow me,” Darrel said, and the three marched through the suite into Darrel’s office, where Mercedes took a seat.

“We just served Jack with another lawsuit. That makes three so far,” Darrel began. “We’ve taken possession of the boxes in his basement, which Stuart has been going through with Simone. As you predicted, there’s plenty of evidence.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t have everything shredded,” she said. “But then he’s not quite on his game these days.”

“Actually, his friend Gabe facilitated everything when we served
him with the subpoena. He has Jack’s power of attorney now and he seems to be an honest enough fellow. I don’t think he knows what Jack’s been up to, at least not where his law practice is concerned.”

“So this morning I was taking Jack’s deposition in the first case,” Slayne interjected, “which is on behalf of one of the family trusts he defrauded, and we thought it would be an opportune time to serve lawsuit number three, since we knew where he’d be for a few hours.”

Darrel was watching Mercedes’s expression, wondering how she could remain so calm in the midst of her apocalypse.

“At the break,” Slayne continued, “we let the process server into the conference room. He marched up to Jack, handed him an envelope, and told him he’d been served. Jack opened the envelope, saw the summons—and lost it. He stood up, grabbed one of the conference room chairs and hurled it at the process server. The young fellow jumped out of the way, and the chair crashed into the glass wall that partitions the conference room from the hall. The glass shattered. You never heard such a racket! Shards flew everywhere. Fortunately, the insurance reps and the court reporter weren’t in the room at the time, so no one was hurt. Counsel got Jack under control. We postponed the deposition and left.”

Mercedes listened with a deadpan expression on her face. Nothing Jack did could surprise her. She longed for the day when she wouldn’t hear his name or think about him. Would that day ever come?

“I’m surprised he had the strength,” she remarked. “I saw him yesterday, and he was rather feeble. But I guess it depends on which Jack shows up. So you said this is lawsuit number three?”

“Here’s another,” Darrel said with a hint of a smile. “Jack has sued me over fees in the Taylor case. He thinks he should have gotten a larger share of the settlement.”

“We’re not done yet,” Slayne added. “Stuart’s been contacting
the families on a growing list. Jack won’t be the only defendant, either. There are insurance agents and at least one carrier at fault. They had quite a party going on for a few years.”

“Until Mercedes crashed it,” Darrel joked.

“Very funny,” she said. “I know the name of the company. It was all over the documents I saw. What did they do that was illegal?”

“Never you mind,” Darrel said. “Don’t bother yourself with it. Anyway, now we know to wear flak jackets to the next deposition. We located Emerson, too, by the way. He’s beyond subpoena range but he’s going to cooperate, thanks to ‘The Hammer’ here,” he said wryly, pointing his thumb at Slayne.

“There’s nothing quite like the threat of criminal prosecution to soften the heart when you’re still paying on your law school loans,” Slayne said.

“How did you find him?”

“Tony found him in about ten minutes.”

She wished she could wash off all the taint of Jack and the people who had worked with him. It was a noxious feeling that clung to her, no matter what she did or where she went. She wished she could rinse every thought of him from her mind. She wished she could purge all cellular memory of his kiss, his scent, his lethal love-making. She wished she could shed her skin like a snake and lose his touch. Even so, the paralegal in her was curious about the campaign against him. At least Jack’s former clients were getting good legal representation.

“Thank you for the business,” Darrel said gently. “I should have said this earlier. I hope you know that we’re glad to help you regardless, but also know that I do feel responsible for having brought Jack here in the first place. He charmed me just as he did everyone else. You won’t owe the firm anything for your divorce. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good will come of it,” Slayne said reassuringly. “And now counsel will get to redecorate his office at Jack’s expense.”

A
FEW DAYS LATER,
Julie, the receptionist, paid a visit to the paralegal office carrying an enormous vase filled with long-stemmed red roses. She placed them on Mercedes’s desk, handed her an envelope, then left. Without opening the envelope, Mercedes knew the flowers were from Jack. They were flawless and came from the same florist he’d used after their first date.

She closed her eyes and put her face into her hands. The music to “One More Night” played in her head. For a moment she was once again in his arms, swaying to the slow song, feeling the heat of his body, the size of his hand wrapped around the small of her back. She recalled the feel of the lovely crimson dress that Eleanor had sent her when she’d heard she was being courted by a wealthy young lawyer.

Simone came into the paralegal room and lit up at the sight of the roses.

Mercedes saw her and asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Take these flowers and put them in the war room where you’re working on Jack’s boxes. I don’t want to see them again.”

“Gladly,” Simone replied, and carried them away.

Mercedes opened the envelope and saw Jack’s bold scrawl on his fine stationery. The writing was very sloppy, the lines crooked, his penmanship erratic. He had changed pens in the middle of the page from blue to black, neither of which had the blunt nib of his good pen. She supposed he’d misplaced it by now. For a moment she wondered whether he’d ever found his diamond ring, if indeed that’s what he’d been searching for in the grass, and how he was managing his daily life. Why couldn’t she just let it go?

Dear Mercedes,
the letter began.
I want us to be friends. I want to be at peace with you.
The letter went on to offer additional terms for the divorce:

It makes the most sense for each of us to remain liable for our separate debts and to pay for our own insurance policies. I would like to give you the house in exchange for your waiver of any interest in my other properties, and I relinquish all visitation rights concerning Germaine. Why would I want to harm someone who has brought me so much love and joy?

Mercedes sat quietly and contemplated the letter. The last sentence made the hair on the back of her neck bristle and prompted her to read his words again. Nothing from Jack was ever free. What was she missing?

The subtext suddenly jumped out at her: I want you to agree to submit to my terms, in spite of the fact that you told me last weekend not to communicate directly with you again. I’m sending you flowers and writing you a personal letter because what I’m about to propose would never fly with your lawyer.

It makes the most sense for each of us to remain liable for our separate debts and to pay for our own insurance policies.
Subtext: our debts are separate anyway, because of our separate property agreement, but perhaps you don’t know that, so I will put it under your nose to distract you from the second clause of this sentence. I will no longer pay premiums on the life insurance for you. The Soutane Family Trust will be extinguished, and Germaine will not be a beneficiary of any insurance other than what you pay for, despite the fact that I have done my best to give you HIV.

I would like to give you the house in exchange for your waiver of any
interest in my other properties, and I relinquish all visitation rights with Germaine.
This was a particularly rich sentence. The house, heavily encumbered with tax liens from years of rolling over property taxes on previous properties, had no equity left in it, according to Caroline, and was also laden with debt from remodeling and repairs. Jack was willing to give her all this in exchange for her agreement not to make any claims against his other properties, which were less encumbered and actually had some equity! Germaine’s voice message had disabused him of any notion about visitation, so he was now willing to relinquish a right he never had anyway.

She read the letter one more time, wondering what else she was missing.
Ah yes,
she thought,
any mention of spousal support.
No wonder he’d sent flowers.

I
T HAD BEEN RAINING ALL
morning that December day, and the sky was thick and dark. She drove in silence, listening to the tires on wet pavement, feeling the damp air on her skin, smelling the rain-soaked earth. Cyclamen was blooming red and pink all around the entryway to the clinic. A long-haired Sylvester cat paused in his hunting under a nearby tree, a white foot suspended in the air, when he spotted Mercedes. A robust robin was his target, but in the half second of his distraction the bird flew up from the hedge to a higher perch in the redwood. The cat crept over the wet bark chips into a hedge.