Play Dead (55 page)

Mary swallowed. She stood upright, her spine rigid. She turned to face Laura as if she were preparing to receive a terrible blow. Her body trembled. 'Because,' she said slowly, 'you were married to your brother.'

Chapter
29

'This way, Miss.'

Estelle followed the president of First National of Hamilton into the bank. It was late, well past closing, but Estelle had managed to get him to come down and open the bank for her. How? Trade secrets. Estelle knew how to network better than anyone. She had taken the simple ritual of talking on the phone and transformed it into an art form. Give her a telephone and a local directory and Estelle could locate anybody or anything -- like the truth behind Judy's mystery key.

'Please have a seat. May I have the key please?'

Estelle handed him the key.

'And the notarized letter?'

She passed him the notarized letter Laura's attorney had drawn up giving Estelle full access to whatever the key might open.

The banker headed down the hallway. He returned a minute later with the box under his arm.

'Here it is.'

He handed her the box. Estelle opened it and skimmed through the contents. A lot of old bonds. An employment contract from Colgate College. Insurance claims.

On the bottom, Estelle found a diary from 1960. Laura's words came back to her.

'What exactly do you expect me to find, Laura?'

'I don't really know. Something to do with the past.'

'The past?'

'1960 to be more precise. Something happened to my aunt that year and I need to find out what.'

'I don't understand what you mean.'

'Neither do I. Don't worry about it. Just keep your eyes open for anything involving 1960.'

Without further delay, Estelle poured everything from the box into a small bag with the other items. She thanked the banker and hurried to the taxi. The chartered jet was fueled and waiting for her at the airport. Estelle looked at her watch. With a little luck, she could be back at Laura's apartment with the diary in just over two hours.

For more than a full minute, the kitchen remained silent. Only the sounds of Mary's sobs penetrated the stillness that surrounded the two women. Laura was too stunned to move, too stunned to allow the truth to go any deeper than the periphery of her mind.

'My brother?' she was finally able to utter. 'David was my brother?'

Mary nodded. 'Sinclair Baskin is your real father.'

'No,' Laura said with a dull voice. 'That can't be.'

'It's true. God, I wish it wasn't, but it's true.'

'But how ...'

'Because I was stupid and careless. During my affair with Sinclair, I became pregnant.'

'Maybe Dad was the one. Maybe Dad got you preg -- '

Mary shook her head. 'Your father and I had not slept together for nearly two months.'

'You became pregnant?'

She nodded.

'Did you tell Sinclair?'

'Of course I told him. Like I said before, I was young and confused. I thought we were in love. I was prepared to leave your father and start life anew as Mrs Sinclair Baskin.'

'So what happened?'

'When Sinclair found out that I was pregnant, he threw me out.'

'Just like that?'

Mary nodded. 'Sinclair said that he didn't care what I did with the baby as long as I just got out of his life right away. I was so scared, Laura. Terrified. I never felt so alone in all my life. I had nobody to turn to. I never had many girlfriends except on a superficial level. They thought I was pretty and popular but no one ever wanted to know me. I mean, there was no flesh and blood and feelings in pretty Mary. I was just a beautiful painting or landscape for people to stare at and admire. Nothing more. You must know the feeling.'

Laura did. 'So what did you do?'

Mary went over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and filled a glass. 'I cried a lot. And then I sat down and tried to think it through. What was I going to do? Abortion was not a real option back then. I mean, you could get one if you had the money but James handled all of our finances. He would know in a second.

'I considered telling James the truth, but can you imagine what would have happened? He is very possessive. If he had ever learned what had happened, well, I don't know what he would have done to me.'

'Probably divorced you.'

'Probably,' Mary agreed.

'So what did you decide to do?'

'Isn't it obvious?' she asked. 'I pretended the child was his.'

'How? You just said that you hadn't slept together in months.'

'The night after Sinclair threw me out, I started seducing James. Almost every night for months we made love.'

Laura felt sick to her stomach. 'Seduction was always the answer for you, wasn't it, Mother?'

'I wish there had been another solution, but what else could I do? I had to make him think you were his child. It was not easy. You were a very difficult pregnancy. For weeks I was sick as a dog and delirious. I vomited every morning. I was bleeding profusely. I thought I was going to miscarry and, God forgive me, I wanted to so badly. Days went by that I spent in the grips of a fever and could barely remember anything.'

'But you still managed to seduce him.'

'I had to, Laura. I had to make him think the baby was his. There were two big obstacles standing in the way of my deception: timing and family resemblance. You see, if everything kept on schedule, you were going to be born nine months after I became pregnant by Sinclair, which would be a month or two too soon if you were really James's baby.'

'How did you get around that?'

'I figured that in the basking light of parenthood, I could gloss it over as an early arrival. But luckily, you were a very late baby anyway. I didn't need to lie.'

'And family resemblance?'

'You ended up looking just like me. No one noticed if there was a similarity between you and James. We moved to Boston a year later. My secret was safe. With Sinclair dead, the only other person who knew the truth was my sister.'

'You told Judy?' Laura asked in disbelief.

'I needed to trust someone, Laura. I couldn't do this by myself. So I confided in the one person I could always depend on.'

'Wasn't she still furious at you for stealing Sinclair from her?'

'We were sisters, Laura. Just like you and Gloria. Judy could no more turn her back on me in a time of crisis than you could turn yours on Gloria. Without her help, I don't know what I would have done.'

'So Aunt Judy knew everything?'

'Yes.'

'And she was going to tell me, wasn't she? That was why she called me the other day.'

'Yes,' Mary said slowly. 'I think she planned on doing just that.'

'So you killed her too.'

'What?'

'You set the fire.'

'She was my sister ...'

'The same sister you stole men from?'

'That's different. I loved Judy, you know that. And she loved me.'

'So tell me why Judy chose to betray your trust all of a sudden.'

'I don't know, Laura. I wondered that myself. I know how it must look, but I did not set that fire. I swear. Try to understand. I was only trying to do what was best. And if you look at it from a distance, wasn't it working out, Laura? Until you fell in love with David, everything was wonderful. James loves you more than anything in the world.'

'No, Mother. He loves a lie.'

'Don't say that. He loves you. Biology doesn't mean a damn thing. If we had adopted you, he'd still love you just as much, right?'

'But you didn't adopt me. You created a lie.'

'A lie that was working just fine until you stopped listening to me.'

'Stopped listening to you?'

'Once I realized that David was Sinclair's son, I begged and pleaded with you not to see him. Why didn't you listen to me, Laura? Why didn't you stay away from him? I tried to stop you. I was sure I could. But then you ran off to Australia and got married. So I followed you. I had no choice.'

'Why couldn't you just tell me the truth?'

Mary's eyes never left her daughter's. 'My deception was thirty years old by then, Laura. The lies were snugly wrapped around this family. I was afraid of what would happen if they were suddenly removed. So I went to Australia to talk with David, to tell him the truth. I told no one I was going -- not even Judy. When I arrived, I called David at your hotel. He was surprised, of course, but he agreed to meet me in my room at the Pacific International Hotel. We talked for a very long time. Oh Laura, it was the most awful thing. David was so confused. One minute he was furious and storming about the room. The next he was crying. Every word I said tore him apart. He was so devastated. Remember, you're hearing it after the fact. But David had to decide what to do. He loved you. He couldn't live without you. But he also knew how badly you wanted children and how dangerous it would be to ignore the truth. Suddenly, his whole world was anchored to ice. And my words were pulling up that anchor. When I spoke to your father a few days later and he told me David had drowned, I knew that my words had been the cause of it. I just wanted him to leave you, Laura. You have to believe me. I wish there had been another way but there wasn't. I couldn't just sit back and let you marry your brother. You see I had no choice, don't you?'

Laura fell back. She let the tears spill down her face. Oh David, I don't care what the world thought. We could have made it work. We could have adopted kids for chrissake. Or you could have just left me. Anything but what you did.

A new voice chased away her thoughts.

'Hello?' James called out. 'Anybody home?'

Laura and Mary both spun. James stood in the doorway, his medical bag in one hand, his briefcase on the floor by his foot. His eyes widened in surprise and concern as he looked at both his wife and daughter.

'What is going on here?' he asked.

'Nothing, honey,' Mary answered quickly.

James turned toward his daughter and studied her face. 'Laura,' he began, 'is there anything wrong?'

Love and sadness rushed through her. Laura wanted so much to hug him, to put her arms around him and tell him how much he meant to her. How many times had he comforted her when she needed it? How many times had he sacrificed his own wants for hers? Countless. She glanced briefly at her mother and wondered if she should tell him the truth, if she should tell him just what kind of a woman he had married. But what good would it do? It would only hurt him. He had lived with her and loved her for more than thirty years. If he was still blind to her faults, it was because he chose to be.

'Nothing, Dad.'

'You look upset. You both look upset.'

'We were just having a heart-to-heart,' Laura said. 'It got a little emotional, that's all.'

Mary looked at her daughter gratefully, but Laura did not give her the satisfaction of being acknowledged.

'I see,' James said, but his tone said otherwise. 'Serita's car is outside. Do you want to invite her in?'

'No, I have to go.' Ignoring her mother completely, Laura picked up her coat, put it on, and kissed her father goodbye.

'I love you, Dad,' she said to him.

His smile seemed sad. 'I love you too, sweetheart.'

'I better go now.' Without another word, Laura walked down the corridor. When she reached the door, she turned one last time and looked back at her parents, both staring at her worriedly. They seemed so small, so vulnerable, and yet it was a familiar, comforting picture to Laura. James and Mary Ayars. Her mother and father.

Laura opened the door and stepped out into cold night air. She had no way of knowing that she would never see them together again.

The wind swirled its blades of cold through the Boston night. T.C. wrapped his arms around himself in a futile attempt to keep warm. This was not an evening to be outside. This was an evening to curl up in bed, throw an extra comforter or two over you, and just watch something mindless on T.V.

He blew air into his fists and then dug his hands into his pockets. Like a true idiot, he had left his gloves at home. His hands and feet were beginning to feel numb. And damn, he needed a cigar, but those too were sitting at home with his gloves, all warm and cozy.

Damn. Damn it all to hell.

T.C. continued to stroll along the Charles River. He quickened his pace now, the cold really starting to get to him. A minute later, he found what he was looking for: Mark.

T.C. shook his head. The wind-chill factor had already dropped the temperature well into the minus range, and Mark still chose to stand alone along the river's frozen edge. There were no other people in the park. The young couples that normally strolled here had opted for cozy indoor fireplaces -- even the homeless had decided that the shelters were less of a risk than this arctic cold.

'Mark?' T.C. cried out, the wind grabbing his words and spreading them aimlessly.

Mark slowly turned toward T.C. He waved to acknowledge that he had heard him and then turned back around toward the water.