A Secret in Salem (24 page)

T
HE DOOR TO THE HOTEL SUITE OPENED, AND TWO WAITERS
entered, pushing room-service carts with ice buckets and silver-domed porcelain plates.

“Be careful, we have a child sleeping,” Marlena said, motioning to Claire, who had fallen asleep on one of the massive sofas.

“Once that girl’s asleep, there’s no waking her,” Belle told her mother. “A bomb could go off, and she wouldn’t know it.”

“Sounds like a little girl we knew.” Marlena smiled as John pointed at Belle.

“What’s all this?” Shawn said as he emerged from the bathroom. His hair was still wet, and he was shirtless but wearing light cotton drawstring pants. He looked every bit the hunk that Belle had married.

“Remind me to keep my shirt on.” John grimaced.

“Yeah, right,” Shawn scoffed.

“Where would you like these, Madame?” the young waiter asked Marlena.

“One goes in each bedroom, thanks,” John instructed.

The waiters did as they were told, moving the fine linen-covered carts to opposite sides of the suite.

“Enjoy, guys,” John then said to his daughter and son-in-law.

“Thanks, Dad,” Belle said as she wrapped her arms around him. She then kissed him lightly on the lips.

Belle then kissed her mother, took Shawn’s hand, and they disappeared into the bedroom as the waiter held the door for them and then closed it behind them.

The second waiter came out of the master bedroom and nodded. “Extra crème fraîche, as you asked, sir.”

“Thank you,” John answered as he handed them each a large tip.

“Thank you,” they said in unison as they saw the generous offering. “Anything else you need, don’t hesitate to call.”

“All we want now is privacy,” John said.

The two quickly crossed the plush carpet and closed the door behind them.

“Alone at last.” He smiled. “That’s not weird, is it?” he added. “Our setting up a night of romance for our little girl?”

“She’s married with a child, and she’s pregnant,” Marlena reminded him needlessly. “And she’s happy, John,” she said with emphasis. “Isn’t that what we want for all our children?”

He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Every last one. You know, I feel sorry for the Gaines kids.”

“Me too. Finding out your father had feet of clay.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing she’s adopted.” John said.

Marlena gave John a surprised look. “Was that in her file?” she asked.

“I overheard her ask her brothers about it on the terrace. Apparently, she didn’t know.”

“So many secrets, so many lies,” Marlena said, shaking her head sadly. “I’d like to help her through it. Any way I can.”

“Yet one more reason you’re perfect.”

“That’s me,” she said with a self-deprecating tone.

“You are, you know,” he said. “Just perfect.”

“I love you, John Black,” she murmured.

“Not nearly as much as I love you.” He smiled. “There’s no way you could.”

John held her tightly, the warmth of their bodies comforting, inviting. After a few moments, he lifted her off her feet and into his arms.

“You’re still in recovery,” she cautioned.

“I told you I had to be whole before letting you in on this, Doc,” he said. “Don’t you worry.”

Marlena gazed into his eyes seductively, then buried her head on his shoulder as he carried her to the bedroom.

“What did you say the name of your physical therapist is?” she asked. “I’ve got to remember to thank her.”

Charley sat in the bay window of her bedroom, looking across the front courtyard and into the harbor. She had planned to go to bed but couldn’t sleep.

Small wonder.

A tap on the door and Chance entered with a bed tray with hot cocoa with marshmallows and graham crackers.

“Hi.” She smiled wanly.

“Hey.” He smiled. “Know it’s summer, but when we were kids, this always cheered you up.”

He gently put the tray on the Belgian lace bedcover and patted the bed for her to join him.

“Is cheering up what I need, or answers?”

“Hey.” She heard a voice from the doorway. It was Jackson. “Didn’t think you could do this without me, did you?”

He had his own cup of cocoa and a small bottle of Kahlua.

“Good thinking.” Chance nodded.

Jackson joined them on the bed and poured an ample amount of the coffee liqueur into each of their cups.

“To us,” Chance said, raising his mug in a toast.

“To us,” Jackson complied.

“Is there an us?” Charley asked pointedly. “Look at the two of you, and look at me.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Chance started.

“And obviously not blood related,” she said.

Chance lowered his mug and addressed her sweetly. “Sis, we know this has been an incredibly bad time for us all, and especially you, but we have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Nada,” Jackson concurred.

“We don’t look anything alike,” she said with a hint of desperation. “We don’t have any of the same tastes or talents, and my blood type did not match either Mum’s or…Richie’s. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.”

“You were born at NewYork–Presbyterian Hospital, Sis,” Chance reminded her.

“So we thought,” she replied.

“I was ten when they brought you home,” Jackson reminded her.

“You were both away in prep school during Mummy’s entire pregnancy,” she reminded them.

“There are photos of her,” Chance added.

“She hardly showed. Why would she if she wasn’t really pregnant?” Charley insisted. “Dad kept her away from both of you and all their friends. Oh, right, and why don’t I just ask him?” The set of her beautiful jaw was firm. “He’s a big fat liar, or haven’t you noticed?”

“There have to be answers,” Jackson said.

“Unfortunately, the only one alive who probably knows is Gram, but somehow I doubt she’d remember.”

It was true. Olivia’s mother, a beautiful soul who she adored, had been suffering the torture of Alzheimer’s since Charley was two.

“Does it matter, little one?” Chance asked. “Does it really, truly matter?”

“I don’t want to be Richard ‘Ill Gotten’ Gaines’s daughter,” she admitted. “It matters to me.”

The strawberries and cream had been devoured, as had Marlena. She and John lay in one another’s arms.

The Monte Carlo moonlight shone in; the scented candles were nearly burned down. Marlena’s smile faded as her thoughts drifted to the events of the day. John knew his wife well. “Why can I guess what you’re thinking, Doc?” he smiled. “And for the record, I’m not offended.

“Can you help her, John?” Marlena asked softly.

He smiled at her tenderly. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Marlena replied as she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

J
ACKSON WAS IN
R
ICHIE’S HOME OFFICE AT THE COMPUTER
, completing the inventory, logging in item after item. He picked up the Baccarat crystal Encounter Man and Woman figures that Richie used as bookends, and checked the computer.

$1,740 each.

They were expensive but hardly going to pay back the hundreds of investors who were seeking restitution.

Chance entered, dressed in simple white slacks and a Ralph Lauren Black Label shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

“Sorry I can’t help you with this, bruv,” Chance said.

“You’ve got the legal eagles to deal with,” Jackson answered. “I’d rather do this.”

Chance sat on the edge of the Biedermeier desk. “What do we do about Charley?”

As if on cue, Chance’s phone rang.

“Private caller,” he said, checking the caller ID. “Do I answer?”

“Your call.”

He decided,
What the heck?
“Chance Gaines here.”

“Chance, it’s John Black. There’s something we need to discuss about your sister.”

Chance listened, fascinated as John told him what he and Marlena knew about Charley’s belief that she was adopted and her need to have answers. When he hung up, he sat silently for a moment.

“Well?” Jackson asked, especially curious from Chance’s expression.

“John Black thinks he may be able to track Charley’s DNA,” Chance offered.

“Okay,” Jackson said skeptically. “And?”

“He doesn’t want to get up her hopes, so he wants us to get a DNA sample, and he’ll have it tested,” Chance said.

“Against whose?” Jackson asked.

“Apparently, this ISA has recently compiled a main database from 40 percent of the hospitals and police stations in the world.”

“So if her DNA matches a sicky or a sicko, she’ll have some answers?” Jackson sighed. “Sounds fab,” he said, tossing a pencil across the desk.

“If he doesn’t find any matches, no harm no foul,” Chance countered. “Look, it’s something.”

Charley was out on the terrace having fresh summer fruit and eggs, when Chance and Jackson came out to join her.

“Gorgeous day,” Chance said, sitting on the wrought-iron chair across from her.

“So now we’re discussing the weather?” Charley remarked.

Jackson sat between them and joked, “Okay, what about them fireworks? Think Spain’ll win this year?”

Charley had to appreciate her brothers, whether they were by blood or not.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine,” she said, popping a ripe piece of cantaloupe in her mouth.

“We know you will,” Chance said. “Just know we love you.”

“I do.” She smiled.

“Would you like some more juice?” Jackson said, picking up her juice glass and not waiting for an answer. “Sophia’s squeezed more fresh.”

Before she could protest, Jackson disappeared into the house.

“What are you doing today?” Chance asked.

“I should go to the boutique,” she said. “Since…Dad…was co-owner, it’s bye-bye to OMG.”

Chance held her hand tightly. Fashion wasn’t Charley’s love, but the thought of losing Olivia’s legacy was painful.

Jackson returned with two full glasses of orange juice and set one in front of Charley.

“I’m full, Jackson, really,” she said. “But you have it, Chance.” She pulled away from the table. “I’d better get dressed.”

Chance watched her cross into the house, then turned back to the glass. “Well, that worked,” he said sarcastically.

Jackson pulled out a small juice glass wrapped in a linen napkin.

“I switched hers with a new one.” He smiled.

“Well, well, my good man.” Chance smiled. “Guess it’s time to go see John Black.”