Replacing Gentry (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

D
aniel, don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”

“What did you do, Paul?”

“Only what we
both
agreed to.”

Daniel persisted. “Then why is Marlie askin’ questions about a woman who is supposed to be dead? And mumbling in her sleep about someone named
Finn
?”

Afraid I’d be discovered, I lurched to the first step and padded as lightly as possible up the stairs to our bedroom. Curling my body beneath the vanity once more, I carefully slid the grate open to hear Daniel saying, “I buried Gentry once, I can’t do it again.”

“This is what I’ve been trying to explain to you,” Paul said. “Marlie’s out to sabotage you.”

Daniel’s response came after a long pause. “I don’t believe it.”

“No?” Paul chided. “First she came up with that misguided scheme that could have ruined your political future. If we hadn’t caught it early and found a way to spin it, you’d be through right now. All our hard work washed down the drain with one ill-conceived agreement. And then there’s the matter of the drugs and alcohol at the boy’s party.”

“The ballpark compromise was a good idea,” Daniel said sheepishly, and my agitation heated up a degree more. Why was he always kowtowing to Paul? “And what happened at the twin’s party wasn’t her fault. I should’ve been here.”

“Right. That’s just what she wants you to believe. How do you think a bunch of kids, who can’t even drive, got that beer to the party? And I bet she twisted her cockamamie ballpark idea until it seemed like the only moral option. She convinced you to compromise your integrity, and for what? School funding we both know will never make any significant difference. It was a suicide mission and you walked right into it.”

“No,” Daniel protested. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Come on, Daniel, that deal wasn’t us,” Paul said, now sounding resigned. “It wasn’t you. We’ve always been careful to maintain the highest of moral values so we can stick to the important issues without having to make excuses for past indiscretions—a perfect, untarnished record—that’s what we’ve always agreed on. But, like it or not, because of
her
, your reputation will be forever blemished.”

“You act like the scandal was part of some diabolical plan to take me down.”

“Maybe it was,” Paul said.

There was a long pause. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from shouting out in my own defense. How could my husband even consider that I would do anything to hurt him?

Daniel spoke next. “No, and I can’t believe we’re even considerin’ the possibility. This is crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, there has to be another explanation,” Daniel said, and the voice inside my head screamed,
Yeah, Paul is a psychotic control freak!

They fell into an extended quiet. The ebb in conversation held so long I felt lightheaded, until I realized I was holding my breath. I let the air out in a slow, silent stream as Paul spoke again.

“I’m sorry to bring this up again, but have you considered that she might be one of them?” he asked. “And then there’s the other possibility; she could be FBI.”

“You’re out of line,” Daniel said, and it sounded as if he meant it. “She’s a social worker; she’s not a spy for the government or anyone else. This time, I think I know what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Do you? Do you really? How can you be sure? I’ve said it before, you say you know what you’re looking for, and so it begs the question . . . how can she
appear
to be everything to the contrary?” Paul said.

I closed my eyes, hoping Daniel wouldn’t believe it.

“No, she’s real,” Daniel said, but not forceful enough to encourage me.

“What would you say if I told you she’s tried this once before?”

What?
A sickened feeling wormed its way under my skin and settled in for a long stay.

“Tried what?” Daniel asked.

“To impose herself into another Iphiclesian’s life.
Finn’s
life. He too was smart, well connected, being groomed by the Society for the presidency,” he said and then things on the other side of the vent got real quiet. “He trusted her too, he married her,” Paul paused again for emphasis. “That’s right. She was married, but I can see by the look on your face that she hasn’t told you. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“I knew she was with someone, someone of a considerable social position, and that he hurt her, but . . . Finn?” Daniel’s words trailed off as if lost on a path of disbelief.

A sharp pain sliced through my chest.
Daniel knew Finn.

“I bet she left out the part about trapping him with a pregnancy. How she used the baby as leverage against his parents when they insisted their son have the marriage annulled?”

A fit of nausea crept over me. Holding my stomach, I curled tighter into a ball. Snapshots of memories rolled in front of my eyes like a rapidly cycling slideshow. The look of pride on Finn’s face when I’d told him I was pregnant. The look of infuriation on his parent’s faces when we shared the news. The bleeding I tried to conceal. The day he’d packed. My gut-wrenching pleadings. The annulment papers I’d been too weak physically and emotionally to sign. The tears that wouldn’t stop. Paul was giving Daniel a first-hand glimpse into the darkest corners of my soul. The secret places only I should be allowed to show him—if ever I dared to go there myself.

Daniel said. “No, that’s not Marlie. She’s not—”

Paul was relentless. “Not what? At first I thought she was just nosey but when I learned she’d been married to Finn, the depth of her treachery became obvious—either she’s one of them or she’s FBI. Either way she’s a spy. And what’s worse, if she’s not part of the Society and the Iphiclesians find out you’ve got a government agent sleeping in your bed, they’ll have no choice but to make you
both
disappear. You know what happened to Gentry’s folks.”

“But I dated Marlie for a year,” Daniel said, his chagrin ringing to the rhythm of defeat. “Why didn’t someone from the Society say somethin’ before now?”

“You think I know?” Paul shot back. “I follow orders same as you. Maybe they wanted you to marry her so she could keep an eye on you—see if you’d be loyal. Or maybe they wanted to catch an FBI agent in the act. Who the hell knows?”

“But if either of those possibilities is true,” Daniel sounded spent, “why try and trip me up?”

“Can’t you see? She pretends to help you, and then she sabotages you. When you’re exposed, you’re vulnerable and she swoops in to save you. She stands by you, plays the supportive wife, and the public loves her. She’s from a middle-classed and conveniently religious family—
if
that’s even who she really is. Americans love to elect presidents with fairytale marriages, and you’re her prince charming. She wants you to believe she’s a naïve girl while, behind your back, she’s sneaking around, asking questions she shouldn’t, sowing the seeds for her back-up plan.”

“Back-up plan?”

“Blackmail, of course,” Paul said. “Ironically, she can’t trap you with a baby so she needs a way to ensure that she stays permanently in your life, in your
son’s
lives. Look, you know I’m right. She lied, she led you astray, she went behind your back and leaked to the press, which next time I might not be able to clean up. She’s digging up dirt from your past—harmful secrets. The woman’s an insidious fraud, and she’s got you eating right out of her hands. I bet she’s archiving all this evidence for the day she needs it. The day when she can use the information as leveraged threats. All it takes to ruin a politician is the insinuation of doubt.”

How could he be accusing me of all this terrible deceit? I cupped both hands over my mouth to keep the sound of my mounting emotion from escaping. But Paul wasn’t done yet. “I know this is hard to hear, and it pains me to say it, but I think it’s time you faced facts.”

“Facts?”

“It’s time to take care of her,” Paul suggested.

“No, not again. I can’t,” Daniel refused. “I won’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it for you.”

“No, this is my doing.” Daniel’s voice was hollow. “I’ll do it,” he said like a soldier volunteering for a dangerous mission.

Again, Paul played the devoted friend. “Let me. I don’t want you getting your hands dirty.”

“What difference does it make at this point? Besides, she’s my wife, my mistake, my mess to clean up.”

The silence that came next opened a sickening void inside me, and within the emptiness, a question emerged—what had Daniel meant by
Not again
and and
I’ll do it?
and Paul by
I’ll take care of it
?

My fingers were still shaking as I tried a few more combinations—the date Daniel had graduated law school, the day his father died and he took over the company, and then his parents’ wedding anniversary. I got nothing, nothing but the angry red light calling me a fool for thinking I could do this. Frustrated, I threaded my fingers through my hair and pulled until my scalp cried out in agony. I needed to take a breath, regroup, and try again.

Daniel and Paul had left. Hiding in an upstairs guestroom, I’d waited for the sound of Daniel’s hired car tires crunching against the front drive as they drove away. Then I sent him a text telling him I’d taken too long getting the boys settled at camp and had decided to stay the night in a hotel. He’d responded, telling me he was sleeping at the condo anyway. With him away for the night and Electra taking a day off, this was my best chance at getting into his safe. I needed to know what Daniel was hiding. My life depended on it.

Pacing the gleaming tile floor of the entry, I concentrated on slowing my thoughts to match the steady rhythm of my feet. Was it possible Daniel had chosen a random group of numbers? No, he was too organized, too calculated for that. I was his wife, why would he keep the combination from me? Given the conversation I’d just overheard, the answer to that question was obvious—but the thought led me in a new direction.

Gentry. Everything seemed to circle back to her death. Daniel had secrets he needed to keep from me, but had he kept secrets from her? Somehow I doubted he ever hid a thing from his first wife.

In the formal living room, I switched on a lamp and sat down on the arm of the sofa. The light ignited the portrait above the grand fireplace in a hazy yellow glow.

“Okay Gentry,” I said, staring up into her honey-colored eyes, “I need your help. I know it’s wrong to spy on one’s husband but something is going on, something that has to do with you. If there’s anything you can tell me, please,
please
, find a way.” I laced my fingers together in front of my heart, my gaze reaching up to hers in earnest. “Please Gentry, if Daniel is involved in something he shouldn’t be, it could be dangerous, not only for me, but for the boys,” I added, hoping to appeal to her as a mother.

I waited.

Nothing.

I doubled my effort to reach her with an unblinking stare into hers. “All right, I know that was a low blow, using your boys as leverage to get you to betray your husband, but,” I stopped myself.
This is crazy
. Closing my eyes, I strained my ears against the silent creaks and moans of the house, the rain now pelting the walk and bushes outside the window, to hear something, anything helpful.

Nothing.

Puffing out my cheeks, I blew a breath, absently reaching down to scratch my ankle. As my fingernails dug into the skin around my ankle bone, the itch intensified, taking me back to the last time I’d sat in this very spot. The day I’d been suffering from chigger bites. The day Cooper had reminisced about Gentry and Daniel’s courtship, and how they’d gotten engaged on the same day of the month as our wedding.

The date of one’s engagement?

It was an optimum date to use if one wanted to remember a set of numbers everyone else would likely forget. Only, the date of Daniel and Gentry’s engagement was the same as our wedding date, and I’d already tried it. I expelled another sigh, rolling my shoulders over when another idea came to me. I bolted upright.

What about the date Daniel had asked me to marry him, the day he chased me down in the airport? It was worth a try. I don’t know why, but I had a very good feeling about this.

Hopping from the couch, I blew a kiss up to Gentry. “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. And I promise I won’t let you, or the boys, down.”