West of Paradise (23 page)

An hour or so later the cold began to penetrate the light jacket she wore, turning her back toward the business district where rush hour traffic was in full swing, cars packed, the sidewalk jammed with people heading for the subways or trains. It was near to dark now and up ahead she could see Studio One, having come full circle.

A small crowd of people had gathered at the front entrance, their eyes all glued to the huge holo screens at either side where her interview was beginning. She drew closer in sick fascination to watch.

It never occurred to her that she should have kept on walking, not until someone recognized her and people started whispering, then a man with a camera began snapping pictures while some gum-snapping woman in canary yellow asked her who she thought she was. It deteriorated from there until Katherine was pressed up against the glass, feeling like a criminal while the mob before her grew angrier and angrier. Someone gave her a hard shove.

A second later someone else grabbed hold of her arm and Katherine nearly started screaming until she saw who it was.

Dee’s frantic face peered out of the half open doorway and behind her in the lobby Katherine could see a couple of security guys dressed in black.

“Come on!” Dee pulled on her arm and Katherine didn’t need any more encouragement than that, darting inside and leaving the security guys to deal with the mob.

“Good God, what were you thinking?” Dee asked, whisking her into the elevator.

“I . . . I had a fight with my grandfather,” she said.

“Well, that’s no surprise. He must be furious.”

“He is,” Katherine said, not elaborating.

“You can hide out in my office. I have another interview to do, and if you’re still here when I’m done we’ll talk. If you’re not, be careful.”

Katherine hardly moved from the chair in the corner, thinking hard about what to do and who might help. Dee would, she knew, but she needed someone who could act for her, follow her instructions. She had said all she was going to say and had no intention of sticking around to listen to recriminations from people she didn’t know or care about.

The hour Dee was gone gave Katherine the opportunity to plan her departure and write out her instructions. At the top of the list was
resign as CEO of McLeod Industries
. The rental car was on its way to the parking garage below by the time Dee returned. Katherine noted she had changed yet again, this time into a short sequined dress and black pumps.

Dee opened one of the drawers in her desk and took out a bottle of whiskey and two short glasses, pouring them each a shot.

Katherine tipped hers back. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Dee smiled. “Now what?”

“Shari Bennet is on her way over. I’m giving her power of attorney over certain matters. You can be my witness. On the record, of course.”

“What are you going to do?” Dee asked.

“I’m going to disappear again, this time for good.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Trying to Find Peace

W
here is she?” Jack demanded as soon as he finished puking onto the floor.

Miss Adjani handed him a towel. “You might want to have a seat for a bit,” she suggested.

“Christ, I feel like shit.”

“Yes, the return trip is a bit unpleasant, but fortunately it doesn’t last. You’ll feel better shortly.”

Jack got to his feet slowly. “Where is she?” he asked again.

“Who?”

Jack sighed. “Please, don’t. I know she was from here, or now.”

Miss Adjani gave a concessionary nod. “I wish I could help you, Jack. But I’m sure you remember when you first came down here to Louis’ lab and he showed you everything. I know he explained about the security and of course you recall the papers you signed.”

“So?”

“There was a confidentiality clause?”

Jack frowned.

“I can’t tell you anything about anyone who might have been a guest,” Miss Adjani said gently. “I’m sorry.”

Words of protest formed on Jack’s lips but he let them go, knowing they were useless. “I’ll find her myself,” he muttered.

She nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements for your departure.”

Upstairs in his room Jack took advantage of hot and cold running water and a truly sharp razor. He walked around in his boxers for a while just to feel what it was like not to wear so many clothes. He dug his toes into the carpet but it reminded him of Katherine so he quit and went to bed, hoping to sleep and forget about everything for a little while.

He dozed, but he did not truly sleep, waking multiple times throughout the rest of the night. He kept thinking he was somewhere else and remembering he wasn’t, reaching out for Katherine but finding the place where she’d slept beside him cold. Finally, in the early hours of dawn, he got up, knowing he wasn’t going to sleep anymore.

The rain still fell outside and when he stepped out onto the balcony he actually shivered a little when it hit him. He stood there a while longer, seeing the pool below empty of swimmers, the chaise lounges all sitting on their sides and lashed together near the utility shed. The sky was gray with bands of dark clouds and the wind had turned the sea choppy.

Jack went inside and dressed, finding some comfort in an old pair of jeans and his favorite sea green Henley. He went down stairs where the dining room was quiet but nonetheless stocked with coffee and bagels, fresh fruit, and scones. He availed himself of the first and last before heading to the library where he guessed he might find Miss Adjani.

It was, however, Louis Cade he encountered, sitting before the massive fireplace with a cup of something steaming. He smiled when Jack entered and gestured to the seat opposite.

“Nasty weather,” he commented once Jack sat down.

Jack shrugged.

Louis shook his head. “I know. You don’t care much for the weather. Unfortunately, it may delay your departure another day or two.”

“Great,” Jack said.

“I’m sorry. But I do have something for you if you’re interested.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“An offer.”

“Hmmm, not sure if I can take any more of your offers, Louis,” Jack said.

“You might change your mind once you hear it.”

Jack made a motion with his hands that said, go ahead but don’t expect me to take you up on it.

“It should be fairly easy, especially for someone with your academic background. What I’d like is a complete accounting of your experiences. You’re the only client I’ve had who has spent that much time in the past, enough to really get a feel for it. It would be helpful for our records, and needless to say I would pay you handsomely for your time.”

“How handsomely,” Jack asked, not sure if any amount of money could entice him to relive the past five years but well aware of how few prospects he had.

Louis smiled broadly. “Very.”

Jack hesitated, not sure if he could stuff his feelings down enough to make an account of what had happened, not right away.

“I would need some time,” he said.

“As much as you need,” Louis said.

❧

Two days later Jack was landing at LAX. In addition to the single bag he had brought to Cristobel over five years ago was a small black case with a holodisc on which to record and an envelope with the pertinent information regarding his new-found wealth. But the first thing he did upon landing was find a private kiosk at the airport where he could access the net, typing in Katherine’s name and hoping she hadn’t given him an alias.

Two seconds later Jack’s mouth dropped open as he got hundreds of hits on his inquiry. He picked one at random and read:

www.huffingtonpost.com

She’s Done it Again

New York—Katherine Kennedy, the presumed to be dead CEO of McLeod Industries no sooner comes forth only to disappear into the woodwork again after her explosive revelation as to the origins of her family’s fortune. Ms. Kennedy’s admission that McLeod Industries benefited from a distant relative’s criminal activities has officially been proven true.

According to the master of snoops, Leon Price, documents from the Pinkerton National Detective Agency relay the course of the investigation and its close upon the death of Alanna McLeod in Tombstone, Arizona. Additionally, further proof has been found linking Alanna McLeod with Alastair McLeod of McLeod Shipping, a precursor of McLeod Industries.

Leon Price, in an interview on Larry King Jr., said he found this information buried in an unrelated file he was directed to by a source he refuses to name. Meanwhile, Katherine Kennedy isn’t talking to the press, having gone into seclusion according to Dee Rydell, who nabbed an exclusive with Ms. Kennedy immediately before her most recent vanishing act . . .

❧

Jack skipped around between the various articles, going back to the first mention of her name as the primary shareholder in McLeod Industries. This was the result of the untimely death of her parents when she was twelve.

On March 12, 2012, an accident occurred which killed both her parents and left her one of the wealthiest minors in the western hemisphere. Her grandfather was granted custody of her and, just as she had told Jack, raised her primarily in Boston and France. There were a few pictures of her when she was young, most of them in the months after her parents’ death, a long gap when she was not seen at all, and then her emergence onto the scene of the young, rich, and restless not long after she started attending Vassar where she studied fashion, design, and business.

It seemed everywhere she went someone was there to capture her image, and he got his fill of her college days, the posh spots she frequented, and the tabloids linking her with a variety of men. There was a year or two of next to nothing then a frenzy when she took over the position of CEO, interviews with nearly everyone, and, a few months prior to her arrival in Leavenworth, an engagement notice, linking her with Antonio D’Salvatore.

There was a picture of the two of them, looking beautiful and rich on some yacht in the Mediterranean. The latest tabloids had him denouncing her, calling her a “spoiled rich bitch who didn’t know what she wanted and probably never would.” The picture showed him with a leggy blond dripping diamonds.

As for Katherine, the most recent picture of her was in the holo of her interview with Dee Rydell, a well-known anchor. Katherine was wearing a tweed skirt that showed off her legs to advantage and a conservative blue oxford with pearls. She looked amazingly beautiful and entirely at ease in the public eye until Dee asked her about the accident, suggesting it hadn’t been. Katherine’s eyes had widened in surprise, hurt, and something else that was gone in a second.

But Jack recognized it. It was suspicion.

He replayed the interview a dozen or more times, trying to find the Katherine he knew, trying to understand who she was. But no matter how many times he watched it, the only conclusion he could come to was that the Katherine from before her little adventure into the past was far different than the one who had come back.

He sighed and logged off, heading over to the bar where he ordered a beer.

He was still sitting there two hours later, nursing the same beer, when his flight was called. He arrived in Boston late that night and stayed at the Omni. In the morning, after conducting the necessary financial business, he rented a car and drove to the Cape, booking himself into the Swan House on Main Street in Harwichport.

He’d never been to the Cape before and found it still held a few charming remnants of earlier days. There was a nice church with stained glass windows nearby, brick sidewalks, antique shops, and a decent bakery.

It was close to supper by the time he settled in, and he decided to wait until the morning to try to see Katherine; maybe he’d have a little more courage by that time. In all truth he was very unsure of himself, not knowing whether she would want to see him. After all, she had chosen to return home, leaving with the certain knowledge that she would never see him again. As far as she knew he was long dead.

But he couldn’t fault her for her choice, knowing that if he’d been in her shoes he might well have done the same. Which was why he was here. He didn’t know, and he had to find out, one way or the other.

He slept that night, but he dreamed, too, bad dreams for the most part, dreams of Katherine in Alanna’s place, the bullets hitting her, dreams of Katherine walking by him in that black dress, never giving him a single look, dreams of Katherine kissing him only to be snatched away by some unseen force as he reached for her. He woke to snow falling lightly outside his window.

He walked across the street to the bakery next to the church, ordered a tall black coffee, and plugged the address he’d been given into the navigator, directing him to Lower County Road.

Harbor View Estates turned out to be a gated community with a uniformed gatekeeper who was about as expressionless as a mannequin. He listened politely to Jack’s request and just as politely refused him entry.

“Well, can you buzz her, tell her Jack McCabe is here?”

“She’s not taking calls at this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she’s not accepting calls or visitors. I can’t help you.”

“Can you give her a note?” Jack asked, wanting to punch the man but reminding himself he was back in an allegedly more civil era.

The guard sighed, finally losing a bit of his patience. “She’s incommunicado, buddy, do you want a definition?”

Jack stared at him a moment longer before backing out and heading back to the inn. He tried to think of some other way of contacting Katherine, but the longer he thought about it the more he came to the conclusion that maybe she just wanted to forget about what had happened. Who was he to come and remind her? After all, she probably thought he was hundreds of years dead. What kind of shock would it be to see him?

Jack walked down to Bank Street Beach that afternoon, flurries still flying, though not amounting to much. He walked all the way to the jetty at Wychmere Harbor, where he stood at the very end with the wind whipping his hair and the chop rising to spray him at intervals, the smell of salt strong and cold.

When he got back to his room he called his mom, hoping she hadn’t changed her number. Her face appeared before him, older, lined, and very surprised.

“Jack? Jackie, is that you?”

A smile cracked his face at the sight of her. “Hey, Ma, it’s me.”

“Oh my God I thought you were dead. I . . . I can’t . . .”

She lost it then, and it took him a while to calm her down and convince her that he was very much alive and all right—or as all right as he could be, he supposed.

“I was wondering if I could come visit,” he said finally.

“Of course you can, Jack,” she said, smiling broadly. “Of course you can.”