Bloodlines (58 page)

Lillian suddenly went white. "You wouldn't say anything about-- Helen, I've made the right choice. You'll see I'm right."

"I don't want to hurt you, Lily, but I can hardly believe you've considered all the implications. I think you're wrong about why Mitch hasn't harmed Max."

"What do you mean? What do you mean by that?"

"You tell me Mitch is intelligent. And you tell me you think you're the reason Mitch hasn't harmed Max." Her hands clenched and unclenched. "I've never told you this, Lillian, but there was a reason Katy asked Jack to come to her birthday party that night, and it wasn't just to spite you."

"Helen, there's no need to go into this now, is there?"

"She was upset about something and she tried to talk to him, but Jack said you and Todd made sure she was never alone with him for more than a minute. So she used one of those minutes to slip him a note. Conn found it in the pocket of Jack's overcoat. It probably should have ended up with the police, but both Jack and Conn knew what it might do to your reputation."

Lillian glanced at me and said, "Perhaps we should discuss this--"

"Irene has all of Conn's old papers now, so I'm sure she'll come across it, if she hasn't already. Jack kept the note for years, because it was the last thing Katy had given to him, even if it only hurt him to see it. I finally told him to give it to Conn, that Conn could keep it in the collection of things the two of them gathered while they were trying to investigate all that happened on that night."

"You don't know that Conn kept it!" Lillian said. "Please--"

"Oh, he kept it. He mentioned it to me when Eric and Ian were facing charges in 'seventy-eight. If he had it then, he kept it."

Helen turned to me. "The note said, 'Is it true Mitch Yeager is my father? You're the only one who will tell me the truth.'" She stared hard at Lillian as she said this last sentence.

"Katy thought Mitch Yeager was her father?" I asked, stunned.

"Damn it, Helen! What have you done to me!"

"All about you, isn't it, Lily? Well, I'm tired of it."

"But...Helen," I asked, "are you saying that Mitch Yeager thinks Max is his grandson?"

"Yes. At least, there's a real possibility that he does."

"Is it true?" I asked Lillian. "Was Mitch Yeager Katy's father?"

"No. I've told him that again and again."

"But he has reason to believe he could be?"

"I don't think I should answer that."

"Cut the crap. You tell her or I will," Helen said.

"You horrid old bitch!" Lillian said.

I thought back to O'Connor's diaries. "Katy was twenty-one in January of 1958, so she was born in January of 1937, and would have been conceived in April or early May of 1936. Possibly a little later, but prematurely born infants weren't as likely to survive then, so it's more likely she was conceived in April or May. Mitch Yeager was on trial around then, but out on bail for most of April."

"Go on," Helen said, which drew another plea from Lillian. Helen shrugged and said, "Tell her yourself, then."

"I...I was a stupid young girl," Lillian said bitterly. "Mitch and I had been having an off-and-on affair for some time. I had been rather sheltered, and I rebelled. I found there was something exciting about him."

"You dated Jack Corrigan in April of that year, too," I said. "I've seen that in O'Connor's diaries."

"Diaries! He was a child!"

Helen smiled. "Jack told him to keep them, Lillian. Conn also wrote little stories about everything he had seen and heard."

"Everything?" Lillian said weakly.

"Jack showed a few of them to me when he first started giving him 'assignments'--they were uncanny. Jack used to say that Conn was born holding a pen, and I believe it's true."

Lillian frowned, then admitted, "Yes, I dated Jack. Mostly to make Mitch and Harold jealous, I suppose."

I remembered O'Connor's observations and wondered if that was true. But I didn't say that--couldn't say that in front of Helen. I was already wondering if I should have kept my big mouth shut about Jack's previous affairs.

I glanced at her and found that far from looking injured over Lillian's talk of dating Jack, she looked knowing--almost smug. Maybe she didn't care about Jack's past, since she was the only one he married. Of course, Jack and Helen had been friends long before they married, so she must have known that "Handsome Jack" hadn't lived a celibate life.

Lillian said, "You may not be aware of it, but Winston Wrigley--the first one, I mean--was my godfather. He was furious when he found out that I was dating Jack. One of his own reporters! Then later, Mitch told him that if the paper printed so much as one more negative story about him, he'd tell the world a few stories about me."

"What kind of stories?"

"The kind that might have caused problems for my marriage."

I waited.

"You have to understand that Harold was my parents' choice," Lillian said, "and though I liked him, he didn't seem as romantic as the other fellows did to me. Then he did something very romantic--he asked me to elope with him, and I did, in late April."

Helen stood and walked toward the big windows, looking out on the gardens below them.

"Was Mitch upset?" I asked.

"Upset! I should say so. Mitch had this insane notion--he was sure I had married Harold as quickly as I did because I was pregnant with his--Mitch's, I mean--child. According to this cockamamie theory of his, since Mitch was in jail and would likely go to prison, there was nothing else I could do, and so in desperation I made a fool out of Harold."

"You mean he believed Harold was raising his daughter?"

"Exactly."

"But then, why would he harm Katy?"

"I've never been as sure as others are that Mitch himself was behind all of that," Lillian said primly.

Helen made a noise of derision. "Lillian, tell the truth."

"All right, I will. Katy hated him and made no secret of it. She never failed to be rude to him, and he resented it--she publicly insulted him, and Mitch won't tolerate that from anyone. Jack and Helen had something to do with her attitude toward him, I'm sure."

"If that's so," Helen said, "I'm glad of it."

"Are you?" Lillian said. "What if it cost Katy her life?"

Helen didn't answer right away. After a moment, she said, "I was always proud of Katy. If Mitch Yeager had anything to do with her murder, and I can prove it, I don't care what she did to him. Don't make it sound as if she deserved what happened to her. I didn't cause her to be murdered, either, Lillian. And you know it."

"Yes, of course," Lillian said. "I didn't mean that. I--oh, Helen, you know I loved her and was proud of her! It was just that you made me so damned angry! Forgive me?"

Helen didn't answer.

"Helen," I said, "it seems to me that what's done is done--the tests are going to be in progress soon. Lillian is right about one thing--Max seems determined to find out whether or not he's Katy's missing child. You won't be able to stop him from doing that."

She sighed and turned toward me. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Let's go, Irene. I'm suddenly very tired."

She fussed a little when I offered to help her climb into the Jeep, complained about how much she hated seat belts when I refused to close the passenger door until she had hers on. Warned me not to slam the door when she gave in and exaggerated a startled jump when I shut it.

I stood outside the passenger side of the Jeep for a moment, a sensation of being watched suddenly coming over me, causing goose bumps to prickle along my skin. I spun around, as if I might catch some watcher unawares, but saw nothing. I looked around me. The street was quiet. No faces stared back from windows in the few houses I could see from here. There were trees and shrubs planted for privacy all along the borders of Lillian's property. I scanned them, looking for a glimpse of a face, a sign of movement.

Behind me, the passenger door to the Jeep opened. I didn't need to fake being startled.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I thought I heard someone call my name," I said. "I was mistaken."

"Liar," she said, and shut the door. It didn't close all the way. She reopened it, on an impressive list of expletives, and slammed it shut again.

The ride to her home was silent. She let me help her out of the Jeep. She gave me a big hug and said, "You've endured a morning with two stupid, querulous old women. I'm sorry, Irene."

"Oh, one of those women is dumb as a fox, getting me to tag along," I said. "What aren't you telling me?"

She touched a dry, thin hand to my cheek and said, "I'd tell you everything if I could. I meant what I said to Lillian--you and Lydia make me very proud. But I've made promises, Irene. I intend to keep them, at least for now. But you keep digging, and don't be discouraged or afraid of what you may find, and my little promises won't matter at all."

"All right, I will."

I walked her to her door. "Helen, I just remembered something I wanted to ask you about."

"Yes?"

"In 1936, you left the paper for a while."

A look came into her eyes, one I had seen a few times before. In college, if I turned in something she especially liked, she got that same look. "Yes. Come in for a moment, won't you? I won't keep you, but it's too brisk out here for this talk."

We went inside and shed our coats. We sat together on her sofa.

"I did leave the paper," she said. "For about a year. How do you know about that?"

"O'Connor's diary mentioned it. Why did you leave?"

"Several reasons. I'll give you a few of them. First, I wasn't being paid the same wage my male counterparts were making, even though I was supporting myself."

"Wrigley the first was still in charge?"

"Yes. An old man by then. I went in to ask for a raise, he told me he couldn't give me one--didn't I know there was a Depression on, and there were men who wanted my job, and so forth. Take it or leave it, he said."

"So you left it."

"Yes. That's why everyone thought I had left. But you see, I knew what his reaction would be, so it served as a way for me to disguise my other reasons for leaving."

"Which were?"

"First and foremost, I was madly in love with a man who felt a great deal of affection for me, but whom I could plainly see was not ready to settle down."

"Jack."

"Jack. Gorgeous as all get out, and a devil to boot. He was younger than I, and still sowing his wild oats." She smiled. "You can't change them, you know. They have to outgrow it."

"You knew about Lillian?"

"Oh yes. Lily was as beautiful as he was. They made a striking couple. And of course, her old man was loaded, so she thought that would keep Jack chasing after her. What he liked about her was her spirit, not her father's money."

"Is Lillian why you left?"

"No, being jealous or angry of Jack's women would have been exhausting and useless as well. He also had a way of--oh, at the time I was convinced it was some rogue's trick of his, but he made me believe I was something special, that he might flirt here or there, but that I truly mattered to him. Besides, I liked Lillian. I admired that spirit in her, too. She was barely out of high school, but she could put a woman twice her age in her place. A bit spoiled, but she's smart and if you get her interested in something other than herself, she can surprise you with her generosity and drive."

"She was married by the time you left the paper, right?"

"Yes, although Harold was never much of a husband. They weren't married a month before he moved to Europe without her. He traveled all over the world. He was involved in the sale of supplies to military groups, including ammunition--just barely kept his nose clean as far as the government was concerned, but many American companies profited from wars in other countries during those years. Barrett Ducane was one of his business partners. I think he even did some business with Mitch."

"Lillian was pregnant when Harold left for Europe?"

"Yes. She had lost both parents not long after her wedding--a car accident. She wanted to get away for a while after that happened. It was summer and terribly hot, so she decided to go up to a huge cabin owned by her family--a lodge, really--in the mountains. She later told me that she felt alone and abandoned and began to think about women who were less fortunate than she, and that's when she got the idea that she'd start a place for unwed mothers."

"I didn't know about that."

"It's still in existence. She purchased another, smaller cabin nearby. If the Vanderveers had known of the scandalous use she had made of the lodge, they would have come back to haunt her. But she made the right choice. I think it kept her occupied, kept her from dwelling on her problems. And away from Thelma Ducane, who was a terrible influence on her. Those unwed mothers were better women than Thelma, who had the morals of a jackal."

"How did you get involved?"

"She heard that I had left the paper and was looking for a job. She was Wrigley's godchild, and he was fond of her." She smiled. "Dear Lillian. She gave the old man a great deal of misery over letting me go, and told him that she was going to hire me just to spite him. So she invited me to come up there to help her run her home for unwed mothers. And fiercely refused to let me consider coming back to the newspaper. We got along famously."