Love With A Stranger (6 page)

In her wildest dreams she could not have imagined that Thomas Ethan Grantham could be so evil or that she could be so blind and stupid. She had let that handsome and charismatic vampire suck the life from her and pull her into his dark world and change her forever. She was as cut off from her past and her old self as if they had never existed. Somehow she had to find her way out of this gloomy maze with her soul intact. She didn’t know what she would do if news of his affairs leaked out. People might think she was like her husband and ostracize her. Perhaps they already knew about Tom’s dirty secrets and maybe that explained why no one had phoned or come to visit his recent widow. True, she had no close friends here, or permanent neighbors. But didn’t, she reasoned as she fidgeted, good manners and breeding dictate that at least a few of Tom’s acquaintances would contact her? What had happened to common courtesy, compassion, southern hospitality?

Maybe they never liked or accepted me in their social circle,
she mused.
Now that Tom’s gone, they don’t have to pretend anymore. I wasn’t born or reared as one of them. I sneaked in by marrying up. I’m nothing more than a country girl from a poor family. I couldn’t even hold on to my first husband; he screwed around, too.
She sighed in dismay.
For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with me? Going off the deep end? I’m as edgy and prickly as a cactus! Get a grip on yourself before you wind up in a
—

Cass jumped and squealed when Inez spoke from behind her. She bumped the table leg with her knee when she twisted in her seat. She just managed to halt herself before—so unlike her—cursing the woman.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to startle you. More coffee?”

Cass rested one hand on her chest as if to help slow her racing heart. “No, thank you, Inez; I’m stimulated enough today. Have you checked the phones to be sure they’re working?”

“They’re working fine, ma’am. Why do you ask?”

“I guess I’m just disappointed that nobody’s called me.”

“Maybe folks don’t know what to say to a new widow or they don’t want to disturb you this soon after his funeral. You and Mr. Peter have gotten plenty of pretty sympathy cards. Do you want me to bring out the box so you can read them?”

“No! I mean, no thanks; I’m not in the mood for more sadness today.” She thought that sounded like a flimsy excuse following her outburst. “I think I’ll walk out to the mailbox and check it.”

Knowing she was supposed to intercept any mail that didn’t get forwarded to Peter’s new post office box, Inez set down the coffeepot as she offered, “I’ll go for you. Maybe he hasn’t come by yet, so no need for you to waste your energy when you look so tired.”

Cass’s troubled mind scoffed,
Being nice again today, are we?
“That’s kind of you, Inez, but I need the exercise and diversion.”

Cass headed for the brick walkway that separated the main house from Peter’s residence and garage. She walked along the curved driveway that edged the ivory stucco and glanced at the enormous live oak with its spreading limbs draped in silvery Spanish moss, its leaves as evergreen as the thick and lush bed of ivy surrounding its huge base. She reached the mailbox and peered inside: nothing there.

Her vexation increased at being ignored by the many people that Tom had known. Then again, she reasoned as she grit her teeth and frowned, maybe they knew Tom too well. Perhaps they had associated with him only because of his wealth and
status and they hadn’t truly liked or respected him and felt the same way about her.

Cass looked up the tree-shaded street of expensive homes. She loved the beauty and tranquility of the long and narrow island and its semi-tropical climate and verdant landscape. Even so, she couldn’t decide if this was where she wanted to spend her life, as so much of this small island and others nearby was geared toward tourists and vacationing residents. The rear of her home bordered the glistening Atlantic with its lovely beach of soft white sand. The other side of the island provided sweeping marsh views and wetlands, a buffer between the ocean and mainland. From previous excursions and visits, she knew the islands were steeped in history and they offered numerous diversions.

Diversions, her mind echoed, that was what she needed to chase away her sadness, torment, and strange moods. She could do volunteer work and get involved with the arts, as there were numerous social and service organizations available in Brunswick and the Golden Isles. Perhaps she could take continuing education classes at Brunswick College or begin a new hobby. She could get back into church activities, even take up tennis once more, perhaps play with Dr. Jason Burkman again. No, that might not be a good idea since he’s a handsome bachelor. People might gossip. She
was
tempted to visit him professionally for a check-up to see what could be done about her crazy mood swings, but that might give him a bad impression of her. Until she got a grip on herself and her life and she waited a proper mourning period, she should avoid Dr. Burkman’s discerning blue eyes.

As she started to head back to the house, Cass heard a feminine voice calling out to her from down the long and winding street. She turned in that direction.

“Mrs. Grantham! Mrs. Grantham! Wait up for a minute!”

Two middle-aged women, dressed in fashionable casual outfits and coiffed perfectly, hurried toward her. Cass assumed
with a warm relief they were distant neighbors coming to offer their condolences and to extend offers of friendship.

The first woman said in a near breathless voice, “We heard about your husband’s accident and we were wondering what happened to him.”

Cass was taken aback. She had expected them to express their sympathies and to offer help. “I beg your pardon?”

The second woman said, “We read about Mr. Grantham’s accident in the newspapers and saw a report on the television, but it didn’t tell us much. What happened? Why are the police investigating it?”

Cass was outraged by the audacious women who were only interested in obtaining gossip they could share with their friends. “I haven’t the slightest idea; you’ll have to phone the police for answers to your…curious questions. If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather busy this morning.”

The presumptuous women looked as if she had insulted them by refusing to feed their greedy appetites. Cass half-turned to depart, but was halted when one touched her arm.

“Wait, Mrs. Grantham! Surely you have some idea why they’re—”

Her nerves raw, Cass interrupted. “I just lost my husband and my thoughts are elsewhere, so I haven’t read the newspapers or watched TV. I don’t have any inkling what those foolish reporters have said. Tom had a tragic accident and he’s dead; that’s all I know, so I can’t appease your curiosity. Good-bye.”

As she walked away, Cass heard the women whispering but could not make out what they said. She glanced up at a noise and saw a vehicle slow down while its occupants stared and pointed at her and her home as they chatted among themselves. She increased her pace to get out of their sight behind her house. She found Inez waiting for her on the stone patio.

“What’s wrong, ma’am? You look upset and pale. You’re shaking.”

Cass told the housekeeper about the two incidents.

“Just busybodies, ma’am; pay no attention to them.”

“Where are this week’s newspapers?”

“In the pantry in grocery sacks; I always save and recycle them.”

“Please bring them to me so I can learn what everybody else knows.”

“Are you sure you want to see them? There’s pictures of Mr. Grantham and his car in them. It’s an awful sight. Don’t hurt yourself that way.”

Cass prayed that no reporter had gotten hold of dirty facts about Tom and printed them. Had their private life been opened up to scrutiny, and did a scandal loom before her? “I have to know what’s being said about him and the accident,” she told the woman. “If we’ve become a subject of gossip, I need to know about it.”

“As you wish, ma’am. But before you start on them, do you want some herbal tea to settle your nerves or one of those pills from Doctor Hines?”

Merciful heavens, please don’t let the news be that bad!
“Herbal tea is fine for now, Inez.”
And I hope I don’t need anything stronger after I read them.

Before Inez reached the double French doors, Cass changed her mind. “On second thought, bring the newspapers to my bedroom. The sun is too bright for reading out here.”
If I freak out, I don’t want a witness to report my crazy behavior to Peter.

After the housekeeper brought the tea and stack of newspapers to her room, Cass thanked her and said, “When you finish your chores, Inez, you can leave, and it was kind of you to come in on Saturday.”

“After what you’ve been through this week, ma’am, I thought you could use the extra help and company. I’m willing to stay until evening.”

“That isn’t necessary, Inez, but thank you.”

“I’ll come in tomorrow for a few hours.”

Damn it, woman, just shut up and leave! You don’t have to cater to me to keep your crummy job! Just get out of here and stop annoying me before I lose my patience and temper!
She halted her ugly thoughts.
Be nice, Cass; she might be the only person on the island speaking to you!
“There’s no need for you to do that, but thank you for the kind offer. You need your rest, Inez, and I’m sure you have things to do at home. I’ll be fine, and I really need some time alone.”

“If you change your mind, ma’am, just call me and I’ll come over.”

“I will, and thank you again for being so kind and helpful.”

As Inez left the room, she reminded herself to tell Peter that the medicine she was putting into Cass’s food was not working, because the woman was acting as jumpy as a cat with its tail near a rocking chair and her eyes had a strange wild glaze. Perhaps Dr. Hines needed to prescribe something stronger to pacify the agitated woman. Knowing Cass didn’t like her and might fire her when her head cleared, Inez felt a power in putting something over on her boss. It would be to her own advantage, Inez thought, if the medicine mellowed and calmed the woman as it was supposed to do. And, as long as Cass was off balance, she needed her help. Yes, the gleeful Inez planned, she must tell Peter that Cass needed more medication, enough to keep the woman too relaxed to think clearly or to cause trouble.

Cass decided to take a long walk on the beach to calm her tension before subjecting herself to what she might discover in the newspapers. As she waited and watched from her front bedroom window for Inez’s departure before leaving on her stroll, she saw several vehicles slow down before her house and stare at it. An occupant in one actually pulled over, leaned out of his window with a camera, and took a picture of it! Whatever the media was saying, it must certainly be titillating.

Cass scanned every newspaper printed since Tom’s accident late Sunday night, and she read every detail that concerned her. Monday’s paper showed a picture of Tom’s crushed convertible, the first time she had seen the mangled red Volante. The driver’s side had taken the brunt of the hit before the car rolled over several times and landed upright. The article said he hadn’t survived the “high speed crash” after his “brakes failed for an unknown reason” and he’d lost control of the vehicle while not wearing a seat belt. Tuesday’s paper featured Tom’s picture and a lengthy obituary about the “prominent local resident, businessman, and multi-millionaire.” Wednesday’s had an article
about a police investigation into the cause of the mechanical failure and reason for a missing air bag that possibly could have saved his life.

Faulty brakes…Missing airbag… Cass reasoned that even if someone had tampered with Tom’s car, she wasn’t responsible and there was no way she could have disabled his brakes and safety device. She didn’t know anything about cars, and she was never allowed near his vehicle; no one was except the serviceman. At least she now knew why the police were suspicious of foul play.

If you were killed, my adulterous husband, I wonder if one of your discarded lovers or one of their sweethearts or spouses did it. I don’t dare reveal such filth to “Mutt & Jeff!” If they are good detectives, let them uncover the facts!

Cass returned to her reading. Wednesday’s paper also mentioned that Tom was driving home after returning from a trip and dropping off model Gretchen Lowrey at a hotel on the Golden Isles Parkway. It said that after giving a statement to the police about their relationship, Miss Lowrey left town to return home to New York City.

I bet a million dollars you didn’t tell them the truth, did you, you sorry piece of trash? I wonder what they would think if they learned you lied and they got a look at that sordid videotape. Would you roll over in your grave, dear Tom, if I tarnished your memory and good name by selling that second video to some sleasy tabloid?

Cass pushed aside thoughts and emotions that were deliciously vindictive, though totally out of character for her. Friday’s newspaper had an interview with Peter, but it mostly told about him taking over his father’s companies and elaborated on the two local ones where the new boss and owner planned no changes. She was curious about why he hadn’t mentioned that article.

Cass wished she knew what this evening’s paper contained, but it had not come yet. She was surprised the media hadn’t
pestered her for interviews, but was glad they hadn’t. With luck, Beals and Killian would release a statement soon that the wreck was only a terrible accident and there was a credible explanation for why his airbag was missing. She had suffered more than enough torment since Tom’s death and she didn’t need to be drawn into a murder investigation, or to become a suspect, which was ridiculous.

Is it, Cassandra? Tom’s countless affairs, and that prenuptial agreement, and a hefty inheritance give you plenty of motives. You’re a wealthy woman, so you could have hired a hit man. Good grief, Cass, are you nuts?
—She stopped her imagination from running hog wild!

She glanced at the statue of Atlas bearing the weight of the world and scoffed that his burden was nothing compared to those on her shoulders. She glared at the Kenya picture of Tom beside the bed until she leapt up and tossed it into the nightstand drawer. Her troubled mind told her to get rid of all reminders of him in
her
home!
But not too soon,
she warned herself,
or I’ll antagonize Peter before everything’s settled.

She paced the floor as she imagined ways to evict Tom totally from her mind, as he had expelled himself from her heart with his betrayals. She sipped the herbal tea, though it was cold and flat. So many jumbled thoughts attacked her brain that she wanted to scream at them to give her just a short respite. She couldn’t understand why she was so antsy, as she’d never been a high-strung or neurotic person, not even during her worst moments in the past dealing with her parents’ deaths and the unfaithful Brad. She turned on classical music and tried to read a magazine to distract herself, but that didn’t work.

Finally, Cass carried the Valium bottle into the bathroom. After opening a capsule and dumping half its contents and reclosing it, she took a partial dose of the tranquilizer to take the edge off her anxieties. Perhaps, she reasoned, a nap would help calm her edginess.

* * *

When Cass awoke at five o’clock, she was a little sluggish but her tension was almost gone. She freshened up and straightened the bed, then gathered the newspapers, and put them in the pantry downstairs for Inez’s recycling collection. She prepared a cup of French Vanilla coffee, this time using decaffeinated. Just as she reached out her hand to turn on a smallscreen television to catch the evening news, someone knocked at the back door. She found Peter standing there with a smile on his face and two plastic carrying bags in his hands.

“I hope you haven’t eaten; I stopped at Mullet Bay and picked us up shrimp platters with cold slaw and french fries and shrimp fritters.”

Cass noticed that he hadn’t used his key to let himself inside, and she resisted the temptation to request its return. She smiled and said, “I was just deciding what I was in the mood for, so your timing is perfect. Come in. What can I pour you to drink?”

“A Coke will be fine for me, thanks.”

“Did you just get off from work?” she asked. “Is everything okay at the company?”

Peter chuckled. “Yes and yes, thank goodness. The staff and employees appear to be accepting me as boss. Of course, they’re used to me running the two local companies for Dad.”

When they were both seated at the breakfast-room table, Peter said, “You look and sound better this evening, Cass. How was your day?”

Cass finished chewing the fritter before she answered, “To be honest, Peter, good and bad.”
The longer I’m friendly and polite,
Cass reasoned,
the longer I can ward off any problems with him.

“How so?” he inquired before biting into a large goldenfried shrimp.

Cass told him about the snoopy ladies and inquisitive drivebys.

“That’s to be expected, Cass, considering who my father was.”

“Perhaps, but it’s rude and insensitive. I also read all of this week’s newspapers. I’m glad reporters haven’t been pestering me.”

“I was hoping they wouldn’t; that’s why I granted them an interview yesterday. Did you see it? Did I do all right with it?”

“Yes and yes,” she said, using his previous response style, then devouring several french fries and a forkful of cole slaw.

Peter chuckled again as he worked on his meal, then he said, “With luck, this intrusion will be over soon.”

“I hope so.”

They ate and drank for a few minutes in silence.

“Peter, do you think it’s possible that someone murdered Tom?”

“No, Cass. Since my father was a rich man, they have to make sure no foul play was involved. I just wish they would keep their mouths shut to the media until the evidence proves it was only an accident. As soon as that automobile serviceman returns from his trip and he’s questioned, they’ll get their answers. We just have to ignore the fuss until everything is settled.”

“Maybe I should get away for a while. I feel trapped in my own home. If I go out, I’m sure to confront more pushy people. I don’t want to be gawked at, or whispered about, or interrogated by strangers or reporters. I feel alone. No one has called or sent letters to check on me, on us. It’s as if we’ve been stricken off their lists. If the phone didn’t have a dial tone, I would think it was out of order or disconnected.”

“That’s probably because I’ve been getting calls and mail at the office. I have more sympathy cards to add to the box I left with you. I suppose they know me better and perhaps didn’t want to disturb you.”

That explanation lifted her spirits a little, but she was still
disappointed at being snubbed or overlooked by Tom’s friends. “I guess I’m just feeling out of sorts. Maybe a trip would do me good.”

“Please, not yet, Cass; we have to take care of business and personal matters first; and I really don’t think you should be going away alone in your state of mind. You’ve suffered a terrible shock and loss, so how you feel is normal, I should think. What you need is rest and quiet to get yourself back together. Relax by the pool, get some sun and fresh air, eat good food, take naps, exercise in Dad’s gym, let Inez wait on you hand and foot. I also advise staying out of the public eye to avoid subjecting yourself to snoopy people and reporters; Inez and I can run your errands. And take those Valium if you need them. I’m sure using them for a short time won’t harm you. In a few weeks, you’ll be your old self again. By then, we’ll have all our matters settled. Then, take a vacation. I need. you here, Cass.”

“You’re right, Peter. What good would it do me if I leave before everything’s settled? I’d just be taking my problems with me, I wouldn’t be able to relax and enjoy myself.”

“I know what might relax you tonight; let’s take a walk on the beach; it should be deserted by now.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

“You’d better grab a windbreaker; it’s cool and windy out there. I’ll clean up the table while you fetch your things.”

“Thank you, Peter, for everything you’re doing for me,” she told him before leaving the room and thinking how odd it sounded and felt to be thanking Tom’s son time and time again for being nice.

Cass put on walk-ing shoes and selected a thin jacket to keep her arms warm. She noticed the briefcase and grocery sack, collected them, and returned to the kitchen to initiate her pretense about them.

“I almost forgot about these, Peter; those two detectives
brought them over yesterday. They were in Tom’s car when… he wrecked it.”

Peter placed the briefcase on the counter and tried to open it, but it was locked. He dumped out the contents in the sack, then pushed aside the two gifts and said, “These must be for you.”

“Probably, but I’ll open them later. I don’t want to get sad and weepy on you. The novel isn’t mine; perhaps Miss Lowrey left it in his car that night,” she added when he tried to hand the book to her. From the corner of her eyes, she watched for any revealing reaction to that fact and the model’s name, but detected none. She decided that either Peter masked his feelings well or he was in the dark about his father’s secrets.

“This camera is totally smashed, so I’ll toss it in the trash.” He checked the wallet, handed her the cash and pictures, and said he would destroy the credit cards since she had her own. He used the keys to unlock the briefcase and, with it facing him, checked its contents. “Mostly business papers and Dad’s calendar. I’ll take them with me and go over them later.” He removed the house and burglar alarm keys from his father’s ring and laid them on the counter, pocketing the others to take to the business offices.

Cass watched Peter lift the lid on the black velvet box and tell her it was another gift for her. She accepted it and closed the box. “Tom was always bringing me things; he was a generous person,” she murmured, hating to compliment her betrayer.

“Unless you want it for sentimental reasons, I’ll keep the wallet.”

“Please do so, Peter.”

“You still want me to keep Dad’s Rolex and his ruby ring?”

“Yes, they should be passed along to his only son, and there was no need to bury such expensive items with him.”

“They’ll be special to me. Now, let’s get off this sad memory lane and take our walk. Grab your margarita and let’s go.”

“That’s my favorite drink. I’m sure it’s been long enough
since I took half a Valium this afternoon for it to be safe. Somehow I don’t think I’ll be needing another one tonight.”

“You took half? I don’t understand.”

Cass explained how she had lowered the dosage. “I just needed a little to calm me so I could take a nap. I got upset by those meddlesome women.”

“That was clever, and it obviously worked. Ready to go?”

“More than ready. Which drink is mine?”

“Either one, I mixed them the same.”

Cass picked up the plastic cup with a handle nearest to her and tasted it. “Um-m-m, delicious. Thanks.”

After locking the door, Cassandra and Peter Grantham strolled side by side down a stone walkway to the end of the lawn and stepped onto sand as soft and white as sifted flour. They passed through an opening in the picketlike privacy fence and skirted low dunes with tall grasses and sea oats wafting in a breeze. The tide was out, so the water, as clear and blue as the heaven overhead, moved in and out with leisure, and created a wide spanse for walk-ing. The sun had set recently, so the western sky was still ablaze with vibrant colors on the horizon. To their left and right, portions of other nearby islands were in view. Expensive homes lined the beach in both directions. It was a peaceful and lovely setting, a serene time of day.

As they walked half way between the low dunes and water’s edge and sipped their drinks, Cass asked Peter, “Are you planning to stay on Sea Island?”

“I imagine so, at least for a while. Dad’s other companies have good managers, so I’ll probably run everything from here because the two local companies are the only ones that need me around most of the time. Of course, I’ll have to check on them personally from time to time.”

Cass swallowed the tart liquid before she surmised aloud, “That means you’ll be traveling on occasion like Tom did?”

“Not as much. My way of thinking is, if you hire good men, let them do the work and stay out of their hair. After being
married to Dad for almost three years, you know he had a restless spirit. He had to keep busy and moving and have plenty of challenges. Not me; I prefer to stay put as much as possible. I guess you could say, I prefer living and working in a near paradise to battling excessive traffic, smog, and noise in those rat-race towns. What about you, Cass? What are your plans?”