Authors: Jo Goodman
"You should be telling this to the directors, Rennie, not to me. In fact, I would have no way of knowing any of this if you weren't sharing it with me now. Do you think I won't use it?"
"You'd hear it all anyway," she said. "Jarret plans to make a full report. I thought this was a good time to meet with you." She looked around and gestured with her hand to indicate their surroundings. "And a good place."
"Confession?" he asked, chuckling under his breath. "I don't think so. Any confessing I have to do will be done in there." He pointed to the confessionals a few feet from where he sat. He started to rise, finished with his conversation with Rennie. "It's been interesting, but—"
Rennie didn't move. She raised her face to him. "Don't you want to hear about Juggler's Jump?"
Hollis was caught halfway up, halfway down, and completely off guard. He hesitated a moment, then slowly sat down again. "What about Juggler's Jump?"
"Hollis, I've been there. I've seen the wreckage firsthand. I know that what happened wasn't an accident."
"It wasn't?" Both his eyebrows rose as he examined Rennie with new interest. "This is the first I've heard of it."
"How can that be when you were responsible?" She held up her hand, stopping his reply when he would have denied it. "I've always suspected, Hollis, but the difficulty was in proving it. I know you didn't personally pull the coupling pins that derailed No. 412, but you hired the men that did."
Hollis stood now. He towered over Rennie. "I've listened to you this long because what you've had to say has been amusing. That's no longer the case." He started to turn away, but Rennie reached for his coat sleeve and held on. He stopped and stared down at her hand, ready to brush her aside.
"I wondered how you paid them," she said quickly, releasing him before he slapped her away. "I know you're not a wealthy man, Hollis, certainly not in the league where you can pay people to commit crimes for you and then keep paying them to stay quiet about it. At the back of my mind there was always the question of money. I thought you had used Queen's Point to funnel funds to yourself, but the records prove that wasn't the case. Three hundred thousand dollars you let sit in an account in my brother-in-law's name. If Jay Mac had died in the accident, you would have pulled it out, but when he didn't you had to leave it there.
"Juggler's Jump must have cost you something, though. Quite a lot probably." Rennie's smile was sly, her demeanor one of a coconspirator. "And then I remembered something Jarret told me about the afternoon he left New York nearly a year ago. You sent Taddy and Richard and Warren to see him off, and they did it in grand fashion: ruining his gun hand and his livelihood, and taking the draft that Jay Mac had made out to him. The draft was for ten thousand dollars, Hollis. That's enough money to arrange for mass murder and a cover-up."
He backed away from her and stepped into the aisle. "It's a theory unless you have proof."
"You tendered the draft," she said. "I looked through Jay Mac's private accounts. This wasn't a draft drawn on the funds of Northeast, Hollis. He wrote it on his personal account, and when you took it to the bank and forged Jarret's signature it showed up again among my father's receipts. Jay Mac never knew the draft had been stolen and forged. He thought Jarret had collected his money long ago. Only I knew differently."
Hollis shrugged. "So I exchanged the draft for cash. It doesn't prove I used the money to arrange an accident at Juggler's Jump."
"It's a good start, though, don't you think? It's enough for the board to wonder what else you may have done. The draft ties you to Jarret's beating on the platform. It connects you to forgery. I'm afraid it goes to your tactics, Hollis. It gives a person pause when evaluating your character."
He started to walk away. Rennie did not reach for him this time. She had already glimpsed the anger simmering just beneath his rigidly controlled expression. She raised her voice and summoned his attention that way. "Why did you use the draft when you had Nina's money at your disposal?"
Hollis pivoted on the balls of his feet. One of his hands rested heavily on the shoulder of the pew. His fingertips pressed whitely against the wood. "Nina's money?" he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting derisively. "She had no money that your father didn't control. He kept all the house accounts, and he gave her an allowance."
Rennie's mouth parted fractionally. "Oh, just like he did for my mother. That explains it, then. There wouldn't have been enough to finance a murder." She shied away, retreating a narrow step as Hollis looked as if he wanted to hit her.
He glanced around the church again to make certain they were alone. "You remember what it was like to feel the flat of my hand," he said. "That's good, Rennie. Keep that in mind and stop throwing your groundless accusations at my head."
"I remember your
fists,"
she said. "And I'll say what I think. I'm showing you the courtesy of hearing it first. I plan to tell this all to the board." She paused a beat. "Unless..."
"Unless?" he asked.
"Unless you give me an equal say in running Northeast."
Hollis's dark eyes narrowed. He thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked backed on his heels. "So we've come back to that."
"It was my purpose in being here," she said calmly.
He was thoughtful. "Who knows about the draft?" he asked.
"Jarret knows it was taken, and he suspects you of arranging its theft, of course; but I haven't told him that I found it in Jay Mac's records." She sighed. "He's been so busy trying to connect you to Queen's Point that I'm quite afraid he overlooked everything else."
"But not you," he said. "You were always clever, Rennie."
Her smile was as insincere as Hollis's compliment.
"Did you tell your husband you're here?" he asked.
"I thought it was better to keep this between us."
"An equal say in running Northeast," he said thoughtfully. "You don't think you're reaching a bit high?"
"On the contrary. I may not be reaching high enough. You
did
try to have my father murdered, Hollis. Sixty people died in that derailment. That's your responsibility."
A muscle worked in Hollis's square jaw. "Let's establish something right now," he said. "Juggler's Jump wasn't my idea. It was Nina's. It was a foolish plan from the beginning, and you're not laying responsibility for it at my feet."
Rennie's mind worked furiously. She wasn't prepared for Hollis to shift the blame to Nina. "You went along with it," she said. "You financed it even though you didn't need to. You had everything already in place for Jay Mac's downfall, yet you agreed to Nina's plan."
"That woman had me tied in knots." As soon as he said the words he wished he could have called them back. He saw Rennie's surprise, and it made him angry and caustic. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? How a person can get your thinking all tangled so that you'll do just about anything for them?"
"Is that how it was for you with Nina?" she asked. "I thought you were using her."
"Like I did you?" he asked. "No, it wasn't that way with Nina. Well, perhaps at first, but not as time went on. I came to love her... or need her... I'm not certain anymore what it was. In the beginning I thought our goals were the same, that we both wanted to wrest control of Northeast away from Jay Mac. It was true to a point; then Nina grew impatient and she wanted Jay Mac dead, not merely humiliated."
Rennie was finding it difficult to breathe. "Her method almost succeeded. You nearly gained Northeast after Juggler's Jump. You had control of her interests in the company. You were still married to me, so you had control of mine as well. It almost worked for you."
"It didn't, though. You found your father." His eyes settled hard on Rennie's pale face and bright eyes. "I'm not sorry about that, Rennie. I like Jay Mac. He gave me my first chance. I've always known that someday I wanted to be sitting where he is, but I never wanted him dead in order to do it."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" she asked. "Someone tried to kill him at the train station the moment we returned. Are you telling me you didn't have anything to do with that?"
"It was Nina."
"She arranged it."
"She
did
it. Jay Mac knows that. He told her the night he asked her for a divorce."
Rennie frowned. "But how do
you
know that?" she asked softly. "Nina killed herself that night." Rennie's entire body stilled; then her eyes widened a fraction. "You were there, weren't you? She talked to you about what Jay Mac said." She saw it in his face then, the terrible truth that she had never suspected until just this moment. Rennie's knees buckled, and she sat down in the pew again. "Oh, my God, Hollis. You killed her."
"It was an accident!" he said harshly. "We fought about Jay Mac's ultimatum. Nina didn't mind being Jay Mac's widow, but she didn't want to be the former wife. It was all I could do to keep her from going after your father right then. There was no reasoning with her. She went out on the balcony of her room and started ranting there. You can't imagine what it was like. Nina
never
raised her voice. She was suddenly screaming so loud the neighbors could have heard."
"So you pushed her."
"She
fell."
"You helped her."
"She was going to ruin
everything."
He took his hands out of his pockets and leaned forward, bracing his arms on the back of the pew where Rennie sat. "All my planning. All the intricate work of setting up the Queen's Point project. That was no simpleton's scheme, Rennie. I waited years to find the right project and then had to scramble to make certain you didn't undo it with your maps and your insistence on another route."
"All of it would have been for nothing," she said gently. "You
had
to kill her."
"There was no other way."
"That's right."
He shut his eyes a moment; his shoulders sagged. A breath shuddered through him as he composed himself. "I miss her, Rennie," he said quietly. "I wish things had turned out differently."
"I know you do."
Hollis nodded. His smile was sad, almost regretful. "That makes it easier, then," he said, "to do what I have to do now."
Rennie twisted on the pew to face him better. "What do you—"
Her words were cut off as Hollis's large, powerful hands closed over her throat. Rennie kicked at the pew in front of her and clawed at the wrists that held her neck like a vise. Waves of black clouded her vision. This time she didn't think she was going to faint. She thought she was going to die.
The confessionals on either side of the priest's box swung open simultaneously. Judge Halsey stepped out of one, followed by the uniformed sergeant from the Jones Street Station. Jarret stepped out of the other. His right hand hovered above the handle of his Remington.
"Let her go, Banks," he said. His voice was without inflection and all the colder because of it.
Hollis's eyes darted from Jarret to the judge to the policeman. His fingers loosened on Rennie's throat, but he didn't release her. "Where... how..." He couldn't believe they had been there all the time. "I
checked,"
he said. He twisted his head as he heard footsteps approaching from the back of the church. The priest who had come out of the confessional earlier was walking toward them.
"A small diversion," the priest called to him. "A necessary one as it turned out. You were very thorough in searching the church for extra ears." His pleasant demeanor faded as he saw Hollis's hands still clutching Rennie's neck. "You'd be wise to let my goddaughter go," he said. "Mr. Sullivan looks to be getting a bit anxious about her safety."
Hollis realized the man he was talking to was Bishop Colden. Feeling the trap closing in on him, he released Rennie's neck—and slid his hands under her arms and drew her out of her seat and against him like a shield. In that same instant he saw that Jarret had drawn his gun, but with Rennie's body as his protection, he was unafraid.
"I'm not going to hurt her," he said, "not as long as you let me leave. I have a carriage waiting outside. As soon as we're far enough away, I'll let her go."
"How far is far?" asked Jarret, holding his gun steady. His eyes darted over Rennie, making a quick assessment. She was holding her own, frightened, but not paralyzed by it. "Do you want to leave the city?" he asked. "The state? There isn't any place in this world that's far enough, Hollis. Give it up. Let Rennie go."
"He's right," Judge Halsey said. His gaunt features were stern, his voice compelling. "We've heard everything. Where do you think you can go now?"
Hollis didn't ease his grip. He quickly surveyed the quartet of men. Neither the judge nor the bishop was carrying a weapon. The sergeant only had a nightstick. Hollis's eyes stayed a moment longer on Jarret's gun. It was shaking ever so slightly, just like the hand that held it.
Rennie's attention was also caught by Jarret's gun hand. She saw him attempt to adjust his grip, then roll his shoulder as he tried to get the feeling to return. She realized Hollis had seen it, too, and understood what it meant. Still using her as a shield, he hauled her over the pew and began to back down the side aisle.
"Sorry about the arm, Sullivan," Hollis said. "That must have hurt like hell."