A Secret in Salem (16 page)

“M
OMMY
!” C
LAIRE SAID, POUNDING ON THE DOOR OF
Marlena’s bathroom. She wasn’t used to her mother locking her out.

Belle needed total privacy and not the prying eyes and questions of her nearly four-year-old. She was peeing on the pregnancy test she’d dared not use for fear of the answer.

Not to her surprise, the test was positive. Belle was pregnant, and an avalanche of emotion hit her. What actually was a surprise were the tears that sprang to her eyes as both the joy and complications this would bring washed over her.

“Mommy!” Claire repeated.

Belle took a deep breath as she dabbed at her eyes.

“What are you doing in there?”

Belle steeled herself and unlocked the door. “Hey, lovely girl.”

“Were you puking again?” Claire asked.

“No, but I probably will be for a while,” Belle said to her precocious daughter.

“Okay!” Claire beamed. “Can I order more frites?”

Belle couldn’t help but smile. Her daughter had no idea what the implications of her condition were—all she wanted were more of the most delicious french fries she’d ever eaten.

“Maybe at the pool!” Claire said, her eyes wide. She loved to swim, and because of Marlena’s room, they had access to the aquafitness center, with its pool and solarium that overlooked the Mediterranean.

Belle really wasn’t in the mood, but pleasing Claire was important to her. She’d learned the value of good parenting from Marlena, but it seemed that Shawn had been the one truly excelling in this area lately, since she’d not only been obsessed with her fashion ideas, but feeling consistently lousy.

“You got it,” Belle said.

There was no doubt that a father’s love was incomparable, but the bond between mother and daughter, with their hormonal similarities and emotional needs, was indescribable.

“I love you, Mommy.” Claire smiled.

“I love you too, pud,” Belle responded.

By the time Shawn and Marlena returned to the hotel, Belle and Claire had spent hours just being girls. They had laughed and splashed in the pool, had ice cream on the beach, and had manicures and pedicures at Les Thermes Marins de Monte-Carlo, the hotel’s spa and beauty center.

Belle gave Claire a bubble bath in Marlena’s tub and asked, “Would you like a little brother or sister?”

“A sister!” Claire giggled. “No boys, Mommy. Uh-uh.”

Belle understood. If they had a boy, it would be wonderful for Shawn, but Belle had always wanted a little sister of her own.
Someone who would look up to her and be her very best friend, not how she had been treated by her half sister, Sami.

“Where’s my CB?” they heard as Shawn and Marlena returned.

“Da!” Claire squealed as she jumped out of the bathtub, covered with bubbles.

He scooped her up in his arms and gave her a big kiss.

“Am I really getting a baby sister?” Claire spurted.

Shawn was thrown. “No.” Then he caught a glimpse of Belle in the doorway to the bath. “Yes?”

Belle nodded.

Shawn swung Claire around. “Yes!” He laughed. “Isn’t that great?”

Claire giggled, and Belle smiled with relief. But as soon as Shawn looked away, her expression sank.

Marlena saw Belle’s concern. There was more to this than her daughter was admitting.

O
LIVIA
M
ARINI
G
AINES COULD NOT HAVE PICKED A MORE
beautiful day for her funeral. It was seventy-eight degrees in one of the most special places on the planet, and crowds were gathering.

The paparazzi had all been invited to this one. Like Princess Grace’s funeral or Princess Diana’s or the service for revered Italian designer Gianni Versace, who had been gunned down in front of his home, it was a veritable who’s who.

While most funerals were seas of black, this one was a sea of black and yellow. Those who hardly knew Olivia, or the hangers-on to the celebrity aspect, were in respectable black. Those who knew Olivia personally wore her favorite shades of yellow. From the air, it must have looked like a swarm of bumblebees had landed.

The cars and the stars were flash-photo worthy. Diddy was still in the south of France, and Madonna had flown in for the occasion. Princesses Caroline and Stéphanie were both there, and Prince Albert had returned from a publicity junket for the occasion.

The front of the cathedral was adorned with a crown of yellow and cream roses, which was a perfect photo op for all who entered.

The majority of the guests were already seated, when two white limos pulled up in front of St. Nicholas Cathedral.

The door to the first limo opened, and Richie stepped out, his ankle monitor fully visible above his handmade John Lobb St. James’s Street shoes.

Jackson and Chance exited the limo next, dressed in smart slate gray suits with pale yellow shirts and Hermès ties.

They made their way through the paparazzi, who paid little attention to them. Their lenses were directed to the second limo, which contained a stoic Charley, who was escorted by a beautiful blonde in a simple black dress.

The cameras went wild taking photos of Charley and Marlena.

Shawn had opted not to attend, even though Charley had asked him to join them. With the news of Belle’s pregnancy, he felt it would be wrong of him to leave her at the
Fancy Face IV
with Claire, and a funeral was no place for a nearly four-year-old.

Charley respected him for that. If she’d admit it to herself, it made him even more attracted to her.

The cathedral itself was overflowing, and there was a buzz as the Gaineses entered and took their seats in the second pew. There was a mixture of deep sympathy for the children, who’d lost their mother, but disdain for their once-revered patriarch, who had just destroyed the lives of so many in the solemn chamber with his egregious scam.

Marlena opted to sit directly behind Charley. She turned and found herself sitting next to Blake. Again.

Was it fate?

She nodded a pleasant hello, and he nodded back, smiling.

Abby and Chelsea were several rows back. Abby poked her friend in the ribs as she noticed the exchange between Marlena and Blake.

“No,” Chelsea whispered firmly.

“No?” Abby asked. She then changed the subject with a “yes?” as she pointed in the direction of Jackson Gaines. True, he was known as a rogue who’d dated and dumped most of the celebutantes in Hollywood, but he was one hot number.

“Hardly the time to hook up,” Chelsea admonished her friend.

Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” resonated throughout the cathedral from the bows of Yo-Yo Ma, Joshua Bell, and Itzhak Perlman.

“Taken too soon” was the theme of the funeral that lasted just over an hour.

Alison Krauss ended the service at the piano with her rendition of “I’ll Fly Away,” and the assembled guests were caught up in the shock and awe of the Baptist hymn being performed in a cathedral. Southern Baptist song or not, Olivia had always said that she wanted that sung at her funeral, and her sons were respecting her wishes. She hadn’t expected they would have to be fulfilled so soon.

The family filed out to pass the flower-laden casket. There were few tears at this point; they were all still in shock. Charley stopped. She just stared. She then bent over and kissed on the cheek the woman she had believed was her natural mother.

Charley made her way out of the cathedral on the arm of Jackson. Her brothers were both amazingly protective.

Once the family exited, the rest of the assembly passed by the open casket. Some cried, others threw kisses, and several crossed
themselves. It wasn’t a particularly religious crowd, but moments like this always seemed to bring out one’s spiritual side.

Richie’s driver, Garrison, was waiting with the door open to the first stretch limo.

“Sorry I can’t be there,” Richie told his kids, lying. While he would have welcomed getting out of his home prison, he’d have to face dozens, if not hundreds, of former friends he’d screwed. Often not only financially, but physically.

Jackson, Chance, and Charley all just nodded as Richie got into the limo. After the door closed, Richie glanced out the window in time to see their former staff member and his former lover Kelsey in the crowd of mourners. Her expression was blank. He turned away, rolling up the window to avoid her.

“Where’s your brother?” Gemma Kasagian demanded to the new girl, the one she’d hired the same day the girl had been fired by Richie. Whenever Gemma caught wind that experienced help was available, she hired them before anyone else could get to them.

“Your car’s across the street, Ms. Kasagian,” Kelsey answered sweetly through gritted teeth. While she hated the way Gemma spoke to her, she knew it was best not to show she was perturbed.

“He couldn’t have parked on this side?” Gemma snapped, rolling her eyes. “Dalita, come,” she called to her daughter. “Serge!”

Serge Kasagian maneuvered his way to his wife. “I’ve invited a few friends to meet me at the casino, then back to the yacht at midnight.” He directed his remarks to Kelsey.

Gemma’s eyes lit up. “They’re fun, I hope.”

“Make sure the majordomo’s on top of it,” he said to Kelsey.

“Yes, sir, of course,” Kelsey answered.

Serge waved her off with one hand and patted her behind with the other. “So, go!” he added as he guided Gemma and Dalita to the waiting Rolls-Royce Phantom stretch limo.

“Lovely man,” Abby said from behind Kelsey.

“Pardon?” Kelsey asked.

“You work for him?” Abby replied.

Kelsey nodded.

“If you ever have any info, call me,” Abby said, handing Kelsey her Spectator.com business card. “Sources are strictly protected, and you could make some money.”

Abby winked as Chelsea joined her. “Sorry, but I had to go bad,” Chelsea apologized.

“No problem, Chels,” Abby said. “Nice to meet you—”

“Kelsey Silviera,” Kelsey answered. “Nice to meet you too.”

Kelsey slipped Abby’s card in her pocket and headed toward the docks.

“Need you ask?” Abby responded to Chelsea’s quizzical look. “She works for the Kasagians, and she doesn’t look happy.”

Serge Kasagian’s limo, the most expensive in the world, started the short, short trip to the Hôtel de Paris.

Abby caught sight of the driver of the frighteningly ostentatious car as it passed in front of the cathedral. For a second, she felt like she’d seen him before.

“S
O SORRY YOU DIDN’T LET US HOST EVERYONE ON THE YACHT
,” Gemma Kasagian cooed as she kissed Chance on the cheek. Gemma was sure the rumors about Chance were true, but in case he could be turned straight, she felt he’d be a perfect match for her little Dali.

“Mum’s fave room in town was this one,” he said of La Salle Empire, the prestigious Renaissance banquet room overlooking Place du Casino. “Besides, she wouldn’t have wanted you to be working while going through all your grief, Gemma,” Chance said, pasting on the phoniest smile he could muster.

“Dali was so upset you couldn’t be at her party,” Gemma said, totally ignoring him and shoving Dalita toward him.

“Is that Prince Harry?” Chance said, glancing over their shoulder into the elegant room, which had been a historical site since the 1800s.

“Where?” Dalita and Gemma chorused in unison and snapped their heads. If Chance wasn’t interested, there was always Harry. Who knew? Maybe his relationship with Ms. Davy was still rocky.

Chance took the moment to escape their despicable clutches.

Literally everyone who’d been at the funeral was at the reception following, except Richie. Under the terms of his house arrest, he’s had to go straight to the villa once the funeral ended.

The gathering was costing Jackson and Chance the bulk of the cash they’d stashed at Credit Suisse bank in Zurich, but for them, it was a no-brainer. They had never anticipated their father’s downfall and their plummet with him, but when it came to celebrating their mother, they had to be perfect sons. Whatever Olivia’s faults, she had raised all her children beautifully.

Marlena was aware of Charley’s fragile state and was concerned. She saw in this girl an earthiness and sensitivity that she related to.

“You don’t need to stay the entire evening, Charley,” Marlena said. “Everyone knows you’re still on the mend.”

“My head or my heart?” Charley asked.

“Both.”

“Whenever you’d like to go, feel free,” Marlena assured her. “Or if you want to go up to my room and rest, you could do that too.”

“I didn’t realize you were staying here,” Charley said, changing the subject.

“My husband’s choice,” Marlena answered.

“I didn’t even think of your being married.”

“Do I give off that vibe?” Marlena said, a bit surprised.

“No, of course not,” Charley said, uncomfortably.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted them. “It was a beautiful service, Charley.”

She turned to see Blake Masters behind her. He was unaware she was in conversation with Marlena.

“Sorry,” he said to Marlena. “I’m not stalking you. I promise.”

Charley didn’t even hear him.

“Thank you for all you did, Dr. Masters,” she said. “Mummy looked beautiful.”

Her voice choked.

“You okay?” he asked sincerely.

“I will be. For some reason, I have the stoic gene,” Charley answered.

“From your dad,” Blake said, unaware.

Charley nodded unsurely. “I think I could head out now, do you?” she asked them both.

“I can come with you.” Marlena offered.

“No, I need to be alone.” Charley sighed. “Dad’s locked away in his den, so no worries. I’ll be fine.”

“You have my number,” Marlena said directly.

“I do.” Charley half smiled. “I guess I owe you both.”

Marlena and Blake watched as Charley went to Jackson and Chance. They saw Jackson slip out with her.

“She’s incredible,” Marlena said.

“So unlike her father,” Blake answered.

“I should probably go too,” she said. “I was really here for her.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. “Could we have a drink and talk?”

Marlena was torn, until he added, “It’s about your husband.”

They made their way through the room and through the massive golden silk drapes out onto the terrace. While the mourners paid their respects to the only Gaines left inside—Chance—Blake and Marlena took a table.

“I’m not sure how to say this,” Blake said.

“We’re doctors; we know how,” Marlena answered.

“Evelyne’s report confirmed what I already knew from my exam,” Blake offered.

Marlena steeled herself for the grim news.

“John hasn’t been paralyzed for at least several months now.”

“So, the movement in his arms is all he’ll ever have?” she asked.

“You’re not hearing me, Marlena,” Blake said. “The serum injected into his neck was a Botox derivative infused with curare. When it hit his spinal column, his muscles were frozen for a specific amount of time. That time has run out. He can move now.”

“He’s not been able to move, Blake,” Marlena countered firmly.

“Yes, he has,” Blake said. “But for some reason, he never told you.”

Marlena felt numb.

“You’re wrong,” she insisted. “You have to be.”

She pulled out her BlackBerry and dialed John’s number.

It rang, but John didn’t answer.

“Probably can’t hear the phone,” she said, defending him.

“I thought he always had it at his bedside,” Blake said.

Marlena dialed another number. “His nurse.”

“
Allo
?” the voice said on the other end. It was Desiree.

Blake snatched the phone from Marlena’s hand. “This is Dr. Masters. Is John Black available? He gave me your number in case I couldn’t reach him,” he said. He was taking a risk, but his gut said this was right.

“I’m sorry, sir, but no,” she said.

“I’m in Lausanne and was hoping to see him tonight, if possible. I have his test results.”

“Ah yes. I believe he will be back the day after tomorrow,” Desiree said.

“He’s out of town?” Blake asked for Marlena to hear.

“Yes,” Desiree answered.

Blake nodded to Marlena, who tried to cover her shock. “I’ll check back then. Thank you.”

Blake hung up the phone. “When are you expected back?”

“There has to be some logical explanation,” she said.

“There is. You just don’t want to hear it,” Blake offered gently.

There were other guests nearby, regaling each other with wild stories about Olivia. Marlena felt hot all over, terribly out of place, and had a knot in her stomach.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Blake said.

“No,” Marlena told him. “I’m fine.”

But in truth, she was anything but fine.