Not What She Seems (16 page)

After making sure it was Steven, she pulled her robe tight around her and opened the door.

He coughed into his fist, and said, “Um, sorry, I thought you’d be up by now.”

“I’m up. I just don’t have a hairbrush.” She felt her cheeks burn despite her best efforts to remain unflustered.

“Oh, I didn’t think. I’ll have one sent up. Listen, I just wanted to tell you I have to run to the office for a couple of hours. Elena can leave the brush outside of your door. Is there anything else you need?” He put his hand to her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb, his fingertips shooting warmth through her.
“Maybe some makeup remover?”

He kept his hand on her face a little longer than she thought necessary. Emily’s heart and stomach started playing musical chairs, and she glanced at the floor, hoping a large hole would appear so she could jump in it. Why did he have that effect on her? She needed to get a grip.

“Uh, yeah,” was all she could manage to get out. She stepped back and self-consciously touched her face.

“I’ll stop by later and make sure everything’s okay.”

You mean make sure I’m still here.
Emily nodded, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t blame him for not trusting her. She deserved it. But did he have to keep reminding her how suspicious he was of her?

“Sure. I’ll be here.” She had tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but from the look on his face she was probably unsuccessful. After he left, she clicked the dead bolt in place and turned to go make breakfast.

Several hours later the doorbell chimed. She looked through the hole in the door. A woman walked down the hall, and entered the apartment on the opposite side. This must be Elena, she decided. Left outside of her door was a large bag full of toiletries. Not only was there a hairbrush and cold cream, but a wide variety of makeup, bath salts, toothbrushes, deodorant, perfume, and feminine products. Steven should give Elena a raise.

******

Richard walked around the building a second time. Dang thing was a fortress. Glancing down at his tattered t-shirt, he knew the doorman would never let him in. He watched a couple leave the condominium, a small dog on a leash yipping and pulling them toward
Central Park
.

He took a long drag from his cigarette,
then
threw the butt into the street. Getting to Steven wouldn't be as easy as he had thought. He stuffed his fists into his pockets and headed toward the park. He needed time to think about what he was going to do.

Chapter Nineteen

The telephone rang for the zillionth time that morning, and Samantha bristled. Mondays are always like this, she thought.
Everybody and their dog, and their dog’s fleas, calling here.

“Paul Berman Insurance, this is Samantha speaking, how may I direct your call?” She leaned back in her flimsy build-it-yourself task chair, certain that one of these days the back was going to snap and send her to the floor.

Samantha could hear Paul on the phone in his office behind her. “I’m sorry; Mr. Berman is on the phone right now. Would you like me to put you through to his voice mail?” She tapped her pen on her desk. “All right, please hold.” With a little more force than she meant to, she pressed a button on the phone and hung up.

She loathed this job. She hated the cheap plastic plants strewn about the reception area, the pea-green drapes from the 1950’s, and the way Paul insisted she answer the phone. There were only two agents in the office for heaven’s sake. She felt idiotic every time she said, ‘How may I direct your call?’

The phone rang again, and she gritted her teeth. She wondered if anyone would notice if the line became unplugged for a while. Surprisingly, she heard Courtney’s high-pitched voice coming through the receiver.

“Samantha, you’re not
gonna
believe this. Lana’s husband called her from the station today. They got a phone call from Emily Grant. She said she’s
gonna
come turn herself in!”

She could have sworn Courtney said Emily Grant, but that was impossible. “What are you talking about?”

“Emily Grant! She’s coming to Stapleton tomorrow. She’s got herself some fancy lawyer, and is...”

Courtney continued to speak, but the words were lost to Samantha. Her throat tightened, and she felt sick. Emily? What on earth dug her up from the way beyond? She swallowed hard, and tried to keep breathing.

Emily couldn’t come back, not now, it would ruin everything. William’s murder case would be re-activated. Emily’s lawyer would have access to all the evidence. Someone was bound to put two and two together this time, especially with Emily around. The room started to spin.

“Did you hear me?”

“Um, sorry Courtney.
What did you say?”

“I need to go. I’ve got to call Amanda. She is going to freak when she hears this.”

Samantha slowly replaced the receiver, and stared out of the front window. Water stains and finger prints were starting to build up again, and she knew she would have to go outside in the bitter cold to squeegee the glass. She wanted to quit so bad, just so she didn’t have to be the one to do the windows.

A black sedan pulled into the parking lot. A man got out of the car, and pulled his long dress coat around himself while the wind tried to tear it off. Moments later he entered the lobby.

“How may I help you?” She tried to smile, but felt like she was baring her teeth, so she closed her mouth.

“I have an
eleven o’clock
appointment with Paul.”

“Just one moment, I’ll tell him you’re here.” She picked up the phone and pressed Paul’s intercom button. Her voice came from the room behind her as she spoke. “Your
eleven o’clock
appointment is here.” There were some shuffling noises behind her as Paul stood up, and she rolled her eyes. Why didn’t he just come out when he heard his appointment come in?

He materialized behind her, and stepped around her desk. “Right this way, sir.” They went into his office and he shut the door.

Acid started to churn in her stomach. Her job was not her biggest problem anymore. Emily Grant could mess up the rest of her life. She hadn’t expected Emily to show her face in Stapleton again. Why did she have to come back and ruin everything? Samantha clenched her hands into tight fists, her well manicured nails leaving deep impressions in her palm. She was going to have to do something about Emily.

******

Steven showed Attorney Michael Pitman out the front door. His gut twisted inside of him as he walked back to where Emily sat on the sofa. Her legs were tucked underneath her, and she fiddled with a pinecone from the decorative bowl on the glass coffee table. Her hair was pulled back and clipped at the nape of her neck. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her. While she spoke with the attorney, he’d waited in the family room, watching television and playing dinosaurs with Connor. She and Michael talked for over two hours alone. He desperately wanted to know what was said.

He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels. “How did everything go?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

“Fine.”
She tossed the pinecone back into the bowl, and placed her hands between her knees.

“Are you ready to go back to Stapleton tomorrow?” He felt strange standing there, kicking the edge of the area rug, so he sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Honestly, no.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I mean, I’m ready to stop running away, but I’m not ready to see people I thought I had left behind for good. I’m going to have to face them, and the only thing I have to shield me from their hatred is my flimsy story.”

Steven swallowed. “But your flimsy story is the truth.” He didn’t mean to sound so unsure.

“Yes. But I’m not ready to face William’s parents. I can’t even imagine what they think of me. I took off, and they don’t even know they have a grandchild. They were never very nice to me when I was just their daughter-in-law. Now I’m their son’s suspected murderer. Then there’s his best friend Vincent. He was always so kind to me, but I doubt he’s going to be throwing a parade when he sees me.”

“Emily, Richard messed with your head. He made you believe you were to blame, he forced you to leave town, manipulated you, and God only knows what else he did to you.”

She raised her head and looked him in the eyes. “He never touched me.”

Part of him felt relieved to hear this, but another part felt annoyed. “And here you are, rushing to his defense. What power does this man have over you, to do these things to you, and still you can’t see him for what he is?”

Emily picked up the pine cone again, squeezing it, and rolling it between her palms. “I know Richard. He has problems you and I could never begin to understand. He moved in with his grandmother when he was only ten years old, because his father beat his mother until she lay in a lifeless heap, and then blew his own brains out with a revolver. Richard saw the whole thing.”

Steven closed his eyes for a few moments. “That’s horrible.” He almost felt sorry for Richard.
Almost.

She nodded. “He’s always felt responsible for what happened to his mother.”

He pressed his fingers together, and tapped his chin. “Still, that’s no excuse for murder.”

“I understand that. I’m actually surprised he had it in him, to murder William I mean. He’s usually all bark and no bite.” She began to twist and pull the scales off the pine cone.

“What
are you
saying, that you think Richard didn’t kill William?” he asked, leaning a little closer to her.

“No, I’m sure he did. He must have snapped when he saw the bruises on my face. I’ve just never seen him strike another person. When he gets mad, he’ll yell, throw things, punch the wall, and scare the daylights out of me, but I’ve never seen him hurt anyone.”

“How can you say you haven’t seen him hurt anyone? There’s more than one way to abuse.”

She looked down at her hands, and whispered, “You’re right. He has hurt a lot of people.” What used to be a pine cone was being twisted into an unrecognizable shape.

“You know, that pine cone cost me three hundred dollars.”

Her mouth dropped open, and Steven laughed, putting his hands up.
“Just kidding.”

She smirked, leaned over and punched him in the arm.
“Very funny.”

******

Theodore Grant felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn’t believe the conversation he’d just had on the phone.

Priscilla turned her head his way. He could tell her interest was piqued. “Who was that, darling?”

He cleared his throat. “Jim Bradley.”

“What did Jim want?” She put the book she was reading in her lap and took off her glasses.

“Um, he wanted to let us know that Emily has been found, and she is being brought in for questioning tomorrow.”

Priscilla gasped. “Where on earth did they find her?”

He rubbed his temples. This was not going to be easy. “I don’t know, dear. I think she called to turn herself in.”

She pursed her lips together in a tight line. “So, she admits to killing our son?”

“No, actually she’s bringing a lawyer, and says she has an alibi for the time of the murder.”

“Poppycock.
Everyone knows she killed William. Who does she think she’s going to fool?”

Theodore’s stomach lurched. He didn’t want to think about what Emily would be saying when she arrived in town tomorrow. How much did she know? He stood up and slapped the table. “I don’t know, but something must be done about it.”

Chapter Twenty

Emily felt like a child being led into the hotel lobby. Steven had insisted he come with her to Stapleton to get her situated, as he had put it, but she strongly suspected he was making sure she didn’t bolt. She was beginning to resent him immensely, but she hardly felt like she could tell him off, with everything he’d done for her. Her attorney stood at the counter ahead of them checking in. Connor quietly clung to her hand, observing everything.

“Emily? Emily Grant?”

Startled, she turned to see who was calling her name. Vincent rushed toward her, a briefcase in his hand.

“Vincent?” He had lost weight since the last time she had seen him. He still wore a full mustache, but his dark hair was thinner and cropped shorter than he used to wear it. “You look fabulous.”

“Emily!” He opened his arms, pulled her into a large embrace, and relief washed over her. “It’s been ages. How are you?” He took a step back.

“I’m fine. How have you been? Did you and Ashley get married as planned?”

“No, things didn’t work out. She moved to
Long Beach
to be closer to her family.”