Envy (45 page)

"He might have been better off if the state had kept him longer. On his own, he didn't fare very well." He looked at her from beneath his eyebrows. "I believe you know that he'd sunk pretty low by the time I heard what had happened to my star pupil and went looking for him."

She picked up the manuscript pages in her lap and straightened them. "I regret that I ever met Noah Reed. I loved him, Mike. Or

thought I did. I was married to him. Wanted to have his children. How could I not have seen what he is?"

"You weren't looking. You didn't know to look."

"But I should have read the signs. I knew this is where he'd attended university, but he never talked about his life before coming to New York. Not even a casual reference. He didn't have any keepsakes or photographs, except one of his mother and father with him as a boy. He was never in touch with old friends. He never reminisced. He said he preferred living the present to visiting the past, and I stupidly accepted that explanation without question. Why did it never occur to me that he was hiding something?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Maris.

Noah is like two different men occupying one body. You weren't the only one he hoodwinked."

"Was it a plot device for _Envy, or did you actually write Parker a letter, cautioning him not to turn his back on Noah?"

"I wrote a letter very similar to the one Parker read aloud to us. Almost word for word, in fact."

"So _you saw through Noah, and he was only your student. I was his wife. Not a strong recommendation for my perception skills."

"Parker lived with him, too, remember. For nearly six years. Here at the university, then in Florida. Occasionally he saw traces of selfishness and self-absorption, but not until he was in the water that night did he realize that Noah is evil."

"I believe that. Recently I've had glimpses of that evil alter ego." Looking down at the pages still lying in her lap, she ran

#her fingers across the top sheet in something like ##777

a caress. "Parker's not evil like Noah. But he's cruel." Raising her head and looking across at Mike, she said, "Why did he do this, Mike?"

"Revenge."

"Why did he involve me?"

"I apologize for my part, Maris. I was uncomfortable with it from the start. I certainly didn't like it once I came to know you." He eased back in his chair and focused on a corner of the ceiling as he arranged his thoughts. "You see, in that damning video deposition, Noah accused Parker of lechery with Mary Catherine."

"So he made the accusation a reality. With me."

"Something like that. Parker's success with the Mackensie Roone books should have been enough for him. But it wasn't. The best revenge he could devise was to write his and Noah's story and write it well enough to captivate you, a respected editor."

"Who also happened to be Noah's wife."

"I think the idea sparked when he read that Noah had married you."

"I was the element that made the plot work."

Mike nodded somberly. "Every good plot has one component that links all the others. The common thread that seams the pieces together."

"What's the ending to be?"

"He wouldn't tell me."

"Maybe he doesn't have an ending. Maybe deceiving me, bedding me, and being able to laugh up his sleeve at Noah over it is vengeance enough for him."

Mike responded to the bitterness she couldn't conceal. "I'm not justifying what he's done, Maris. But I can understand it. Parker feels everything passionately or not at all. It's the only level of experience that makes sense to him.

Otherwise, why bother? How could he be less passionate about vengeance?

"He wanted Noah to experience at least twinges of the pain he had suffered because of him. He wanted Noah to know what it felt like to be deceived and betrayed to the nth degree. So Parker tricked you into coming to him. You both betrayed Noah by sleeping--was

"Oh, my God!" She reached out and gripped Mike's sleeve. "I've just figured out his

#plot." ###########################779

"His--was

"_Plot. His ending." She wet her lips, spoke hurriedly. "Earlier, you quoted Noah from his videotaped deposition. He claimed that Parker had turned devious, lecherous, and ..."

"Murderous," Mike finished, slapping his forehead. "Goddamn me for being so old and stupid. As many plots as I've analyzed, I should have realized where he was going. That's why he hasn't shared the last chapter with me."

Maris rattled off her racing thoughts.

"Parker's done everything Noah accused him of.

Except--was She looked at Mike with alarm.

"He couldn't," she said huskily "He wouldn't.

I know he wouldn't."

"I don't believe so, either."

But neither sounded convinced. "He's not capable of it," she stressed. "I wouldn't have been attracted to him, wouldn't have--was

"Loved him?"

"For God's sake, Mike, I fell in love with the main character of _The _Vanquished. And transferred that love to the author. Look where that got me. I no longer trust my emotions. I believed that Parker at least cared for me. If I hadn't believed that, I wouldn't have slept with him.

But maybe I'm wrong again. Maybe ..."

She pressed her fist against her heart, recalling how cruel Parker had been that awful morning. Considering all the pain and resentment, bitterness and anger that had been simmering inside him for the past fourteen years, perhaps he was capable of murder.

To his mind, Noah had stolen the life he'd had planned for himself. Tit for tat. An eye for an eye. Noah's life for the one Noah had taken from him. Noah's life in exchange for Mary Catherine's.

Now, _that she could easily believe. Parker might not kill for revenge, but he might for justice. He had liked that girl. He had regarded her as his friend and felt compassion for her.

He would feel justified seeking vengeance for her death.

She surged to her feet. "We've got to stop him."

But at the door, she drew herself up short.

She had panicked unnecessarily. Clasping her hands, she bowed her head over them as though in

#prayer. "Thank God." Turning ######781

back around, she said to Mike, "We're not too late. Noah doesn't know that the writer I've been working with is Parker. He hasn't read _Envy."

Mike dragged his hands down his face, groaning, "Oh, no."

CHAPTER 35

Noah, fresh off a chartered boat from the mainland, entered Terry's Bar and Grill with a condescending attitude that immediately catapulted him to the top of the endangered species list.

The locals disliked nonislanders in general, but they particularly disliked any who looked down their noses at them. They despised Noah Reed on sight. In fact, he might not have been allowed to tie up his boat at the dock if Parker hadn't spread word around that he was expecting a citified visitor from up north. If anybody spotted such a person, he was to be directed to Terry's, where Parker would be waiting.

Noah approached the bar and addressed Terry with a rude, "Hey!"

Terry, who happened to be uncapping a longneck at the time, sent the bottle of beer sliding down the bar toward one of his regulars, ignoring Noah.

"Didn't you hear me?"

Terry shifted a gnawed matchstick from one corner of his mouth to the other. "I heard ya. People wanna talk to me, they talk to me proper, else they're likely to disappear. Now get the fuck outta my place."

"I think you've already worn out your welcome, Noah." At the sound of his voice, Noah spun around. Parker grinned up at him.

"Record time, too."

Noah gave Parker and his wheelchair a long, slow once-over. "She told me you were a cripple."

Terry produced a baseball bat from beneath the bar. One of the regulars reached for the sheathed knife attached to his belt. Others merely glowered.

"She told me you were a prick," Parker returned, keeping his smile in place. "But then I already knew that."

Noah laughed. "Right back to our usual banter, aren't we? I didn't realize how much

#I'd missed it." ###################783

"Funny. I haven't missed it at all.

Want a beer?"

Noah glanced at Terry. "I think I'll pass."

Parker motioned with his head for Noah to follow him outside. "I'll settle up with you later, Terry."

"No problem."

Every eye in the bar was on them as they left through the screen door and went out into the sweltering heat.

"You've got nerve, Noah. I'll give you that."

Noah scoffed. "Coming to see you?"

"No. Going into Terry's bar wearing those loafers." He looked down at Noah's Gucci shoes with the gold trademark on the vamp.

"Very fancy."

Noah ignored the dig and slipped off his jacket. "Lovely climate," he said sarcastically.

"Sorta reminiscent of Key West."

Noah never faltered, but he didn't take the bait, either. Parker led him to the Gator.

"Climb in."

"How quaint." He settled into the bright yellow seat. "You don't see many of these on Park Avenue."

Using his arms, Parker raised himself into the driver's seat, then reached down for his wheelchair, folded it, and placed it in the trailer. As he clicked on the ignition, he said, "Noah, you've grown into a regular Yankee snob."

"You've just grown old."

"Pain and suffering will do that to you."

For the next five minutes, they rode in silence. Noah showed a marked lack of interest in the island. He kept his eyes on the narrow road ahead, never once commenting on the scenery or even looking at it. Parker, on the other hand, returned the waves of people they happened to pass along the way.

After one lady called out a greeting from her front porch, Noah turned to him. "What are you, the local celebrity?"

"Only cripple on the island."

"I see."

"And the only professional writer they know."

"You haven't sold this book of yours yet."

"No, but the Mackensie Roone books

#sell like rubbers in a whorehouse." ######785

Finally. He'd finally gotten an honest reaction out of Noah. He laughed at his stunned expression. "You didn't know? Well ...

surprise!"

With an aplomb that Parker remembered, Noah recovered quickly. "So that's how you afford the lovely home and loyal valet that my wife mentioned."

Parker was quick to catch Noah's possessive reference to Maris, but he didn't address it.

"I'm trying to make the house a home. It still needs a lot of work. And my loyal valet up and quit on me this week."

"How come?"

"He thinks I'm a rotten person and said he wanted no part of me."

"You call that loyal?"

"Oh, he'll be back."

"You're sure of this?"

"Fairly sure, yes."

The sun had sunk below the tree line by the time they reached the derelict cotton gin. The gathering dusk made it appear even more forlorn than it did in full daylight. Its enshrouding vines seemed to be hugging it tighter, as though to protect it from the onset of darkness.

Noah assessed the dilapidated building.

"I can see what you mean by the place still needing a lot of work."

Parker reached into the trailer for his wheelchair and swung it to the ground. "It's not the homestead, but it's an interesting building. As long as you're here, you might just as well get a taste of local history."

He wheeled his chair into the gin, leaving Noah no choice except to follow. Inside, waning sunlight squeezed through the cracks in the walls.

The holes in the ceiling projected miniature disks of light onto the floor. They looked like scattered coins. Otherwise, the interior was gloomy with deep shadows. The air was so heavy and still it almost required conscious thought to inhale it.

Like a tour guide with a rehearsed spiel, Parker pointed out certain aspects of the gin and related some of its history and fact-based legends, as he had related them to Maris, including the failed plan to convert to steam power.

Noah tired of the monologue and interrupted Parker in mid-sentence. "I read your book."

###Parker slowly brought his wheelchair ####787

around to face him. "Of course you did, Noah.

You wouldn't be here if you hadn't. When did you receive it?"

"This morning."

"Quick response. Every anxious writer's dream."

"I only had to read the first few pages to realize where the plot was going. It's very good writing, by the way."

"Thanks."

"I chartered a private jet to ensure the shortest trip possible. On the flight, I scanned the remainder of the manuscript."

"But you already know the story."

"I know it'll never see print."

Parker shrugged goofily. "Just goes to show how wrong a person can be. Here I was thinking that maybe, after all these years, you'd be ready to relieve your conscience."

"Cut the bullshit, Parker." Noah's voice cracked across the stillness like a whip. "I assume this _Envy is the manuscript that Maris has been raving about?"

"The very one. She's read every word. Several times. Likes the story. Loves the concept, the dynamic of the competitive friends. Says the characters are vividly drawn. Thinks Roark is a

prince and Todd is ... well, not a prince."

"She's easily impressed by melodrama."

"Wrong. She's a good editor."

"A schoolgirl playing dress-up."

"She's a classy lady."

"Jesus." Noah snickered. "You've fucked her, haven't you?"

Parker clenched his jaw and refused to answer, which caused Noah to laugh.

"Ah, Parker, Parker. Your hair is graying and your face has more lines than a road map. But some things haven't changed. You're still the chivalrous lover who never kisses and tells."

He shook his head with amusement. "You always did have a soft spot for the ladies. Of course, I know why you had a burning desire to get Maris in bed. You wanted to cuckold me. You went to a hell of a lot of trouble to do it, so I hope you weren't too disappointed. She's not exactly a firecracker in the sack, is she?"

He looked pointedly at Parker's lap.

"Or maybe you're pitifully grateful for any

#kind of sexual activity. Even #######789

Maris's stilted efforts." Thoughtfully, he scratched the side of his nose. "She does have that luxuriant bush, though. If you left the lights on, I'm sure you noticed."

Parker wished very badly to kill him then. He wanted to watch him die, slowly and in agony and feeling the flames of hell licking at his ankles.

Seemingly oblivious to the murderous

impulses he was fostering, Noah continued nonchalantly. "Not that I'm complaining about Maris, you understand. She's certainly proved herself useful."

"In the furtherance of your career."

"That's right." He took a step closer. "And you must know, Parker, that I won't let anything or anyone rob me of all that I've achieved.

This book of yours will never be published."

"Actually, Noah, I didn't write it for publication. I wrote it for myself."

"As a cathartic autobiography?"

"No."

"As a ticket to fuck my wife?"

"No."

"You're stretching my patience, Parker."

"I wrote it to get you here, on my turf, so that I could be watching your face when you die, just like you were watching me from the pilot's wheel of the boat that night."

Noah snorted. "What? You're going to run me down with your wheelchair?"

Parker merely smiled and withdrew a small transistor from his shirt pocket.

"Oh, I see, you're going to beat me to death with a remote control."

"I own this building," Parker said conversationally.

"I like it. Good atmosphere. But some folks think it's a hazard to kids who might wander in here. That abandoned well and all." He hitched his thumb in that direction. "So I've decided to do my fellow islanders a favor and destroy it."

He depressed one of the rubberized buttons on the transistor. Out of the shadows in a far corner came a loud pop followed by a spark.

Startled, Noah spun around and watched as a flame leaped up against the weathered wood.

Parker gave his chair a hard push toward him.

Noah, sensing the motion, turned and lunged at him. Noah's daily workouts in the gym had

#kept him trim. His reflexes were good. ##791

He landed a couple of good punches.

But Parker's arm and chest muscles were exceptionally well developed from years of having to rely on them. He staved off many of Noah's slugs and had enough upper body strength to keep himself in his chair. His real advantage, however, was in knowing how Noah fought. Noah fought dirty.

Noah fought to win. And he didn't care how he won.

When Noah began pushing him backward toward the open well, Parker wasn't surprised. His efforts became defensive. He took reckless swings that Noah easily dodged. Sensing that Parker was weakening, Noah fought even harder.

Parker's frantic struggling only increased Noah's determination to defeat him. He came on more ferociously, blindly, the predator moving in for the kill.

Then, at precisely the right instant, Parker jammed down the brake lever of his wheelchair. It bit into the rubber wheel and brought the chair to a jarring stop. Noah hadn't expected it.

Inertia propelled him forward. His Gucci shoes caught the low rim of the well, tripping him. He groped at air. Then he stepped into nothingness.

His startled cry was a hellish echo of Mary Catherine's scream as she fell backward over the railing of the boat.

Parker's breathing was harsh and loud. He wiped his bloody nose on his shirtsleeve.

"You son of a bitch!" Noah shouted up at him.

"So the fall didn't kill you?"

"Motherfucker!"

"You're a sore loser, Noah. The

cripple outsmarted you. Isn't that what you had in mind for me? To push me down that well? Why do you think I kept referring to it? Foreshadowing, Noah. Any writer worth a damn should have recognized it for what it was."

"Get me out of here."

"Ah, don't be such a crybaby, Noah.

It's not nearly as deep as the Atlantic. To the best of my knowledge there are no saltwater carnivores in there. Don't know about snakes, though," he added in an intentional afterthought.

"What are you going to do, flood it with water and let me drown?"

"Give me some credit. All you'd have to do is

#keep treading water till it got to the ####793

top."

"Then what's the point?"

Parker set off another of the charges. "There are twelve more like that, Noah. But long before I've set all of them off, you'll already be choking.

Smoke inhalation doesn't have quite the drama of ocean water flooding your lungs, or being eaten by a shark, but it's pretty damn effective, wouldn't you say?"

"Ooh, you're scaring me, Parker. You expect me to believe that you would let me die down here?"

"Why wouldn't you believe it? I'm a killer.

You said so yourself. Remember? Come on, flex the old memory muscles. I'm sure you'll

remember. After all, you m/'ve rehearsed that blubbering speech a thousand times. The tears were a convincing touch, I must say. Even I came close to believing you. We were David and Jonathan until that day on the boat. Then I turned devious, lecherous, and murderous. Does that jiggle your memory?"

"I was ... I was ..."

"You were sentencing me to prison. Since I did the time, I think it's only fair that I commit the crime."

Noah was silent for a moment, then said, "I think my ankle's broken."

"You're breaking my heart."

"Listen, Parker, I'm in pain down here."

"Don't even go there, Noah."

"Okay, what I did ... it was wrong. I got scared. Froze up. Ran away. Once

I realized what I'd done, there was no way out for me but to do what I did. I can understand your carrying a grudge. But you've made your point."

"Like you could have made yours by leaving me in the ocean to die. Wasn't that enough? Did you have to let Mary Catherine die, too?"

"You won't get away with this," Noah said in a new tone of voice.

"Oh, I think I will. You did."

"People will see the smoke, call the fire department."

"It's on the other side of the island. You'll suffocate before they get here."

"And you'll be blamed."

"I don't think so. Everyone inside Terry's heard your cruel remark. They know your

#wife's been living under my roof for a #####795