A ruling passion : a novel (84 page)

"But you changed your mind when we saw Bob Targus. Because it was too much to dump on Chad all at once."

"Thaf s it. He'll find out about Graceville—you're right, of course, we can't stop that—and he'll know about the tampering with the plane, because the police have to be told. But he doesn't have to know that his father and the woman who's going to be the first real mother he's ever known were the ones who broke the story on Graceville. Whether we mentioned Sybille or not, she's so deep in it that every

television reporter would get to her within a day, and it would look as if we were the ones who pointed the way. I'm sorry, Valerie; I wish we could do it. I've said that before, haven't I?"

"I hope you don't have to say it again," she replied with a small smile. "It's all right, Nick; it's over; it's gone. I'll find something else. I'd have to anyway, once I finished this one."

He held her close, so grateful for her he wondered how he had done without her for all the past years. Holding each other, they kissed again, leaning across the gearshift and storage compartment between their seats, until they broke into laughter. "We're too old for cars," Valerie said. "We need a couch, a deep carpet, a bed..."

"Waiting for us," Nick said. "A house waiting for us, a life waiting for us..." They kissed again, but only briefly, because he had reminded them that something else waited for them first. "Let's get this over with." Valerie sat back, and he started the car, and drove to Mor-gen Farms.

"Mrs. Enderby is working," the buder said. 'Tou could wait in the garden room, but it might be hours. I suggest you make an appointment for another time."

Nick wrote a few words on a business card. "I think she should see this. We'll wait here."

The buder hesitated, then took the card and left.

Less than a minute later, Sybille appeared in the entrance hall. "How astonishing," she said, her voice flat. Her pale-blue eyes took in both of them with no expression. "Now, where shall we go to talk? Valerie, you choose. You know your way around."

"If s your house," Valerie said clearly. "We'll go wherever you like."

Checked, Sybille turned and walked away without looking back. Nick and Valerie followed, down the hallway to the library, shadowed behind drawn drapes, air-conditioned to frigidity. Sybille sat in a dark wing-backed chair beside a Chinese screen. She wore dark linen pants and a white blouse and looked to Valerie like a black-and-white photograph, frozen in time.

Nick sat on a velvet loveseat. Valerie had been about to join him, but thought better of it, and sat across from him, on a matching sofa. A low coffee table was between them, and Sybille's chair was at the end of it. It struck Valerie that they had been in this position before, a long time ago, at a Chinese restaurant in Palo Alto. They had toasted each other; something about where they would be in ten years. But we never could have imagined this, Valerie thought. The three of us—strangers, lovers, friends, enemies. And from it, Nick and I will build a life.

The butler appeared in the doorway. "Would Madam care for refreshments?"

"No." Sybille kept her eyes on Nick, as if the two of them were alone, and waited.

"We went to see Bob Targus this afternoon," Nick said, "to ask him—"

"That's a lie," Sybille snapped. "He's moved."

"Not yet. He was packing. We went to ask him if he knew anything about the crash of Carlton Sterling's plane."

There was a brief pause. "Of course he doesn't. Why would he?"

"Because he was there. And he told us what he did to the plane before flying you back to Washington."

"Is this a game?" Sybille demanded. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Targus was an unreliable employee, dishonest and untrustworthy. He made up stories that no one believed. If he told you he did something up there, you'd be a fool to believe him. Anyway, that crash was a year and a half ago; it was investigated and it's done with. If thafs all you came to tell me, I have work to do."

"Targus was your pilot for a long time; I'd think you would have gotten rid of him if he was unreliable. We came to tell you that he confessed to putting water in the tanks of Carlton's plane. He said you wanted to delay Carlton; not kill him, but prevent him from returning to Washington right away. Targus said you ordered him to make sure the plane would require maintenance that would take at least a few hours. It was Targus who thought of putting water in the tanks. And of course Carlton was killed."

"You son of a bitch, you're saying I killed him." Sybille's voice was so cold and flat it was almost mechanical. "You're saying I ordered Targus to—whatever he did—so I'm the one who's guilty. Is that what you're saying? You're accusing me of killing a stupid ass who didn't know enough to check his plane before he took off. You're crazy. Whatever that liar said, I had nothing to do with Carl's plane. Why would I? I didn't give a damn what he did."

"You were having an affair with him," Valerie said quiedy.

"Not much of one," Sybille said with contempt, looking around the room without meeting Valerie's eyes. "He was stupid and dull and lousy in bed. You have low standards, Valerie; you'll setde"—she shot a quick glance at Nick—"for anything."

Nick and Valerie gazed at her in silence. She stared back at Nick.

"It was a long time ago, and I barely knew him. I didn't care what he did or when he did it; I just wanted him out of my way."

Nick nodded. "That's what Bob Targus said."

Her mouth drew tight. "You can't intimidate me, Nick; I know you too well." She was sitting stiffly, her face a mask. 'Tou want to destroy me. You can't stand it that Chad likes me better than you; you've been trying to keep us apart ever since he was born. And now you want to ruin me, just because I'm successful. You're trying to ruin Graceville. You sent this woman to ask my board members questions she had no right to ask, trying to make them turn their backs on me. But you're crazy if you think they would; they admire me and respect me, and they need me. You won't get anywhere with this; I'm stronger than you. Whatever you try to do to me, you'll fail because I'm too strong, I've been through too much. I'm invulnerable."

Nick leaned forward. "Sybille, listen to me. We should have gone to the police with Targus's statement, but we couldn't do it, not yet. We have to think of Chad; we want to protect him as much as possible and we have to think of how to tell him about everything that's happened. And maybe we've got it wrong; maybe Targus wasn't telling the truth. If you've got another explanation, we want to hear it. And about the money Carlton gave you. We found out about that—"

"Who's this we?^^ Sybille demanded, looking straight at Nick. "I'm talking to you, I'll hsten to you, but I'm not talking to any we. If you keep talking about we, you'll have to get out."

"You'll have to listen, whatever words I use. I'm not doing this alone. Valerie and I have been researching Grace ville together, you know about that, and I'm helping her find what she can about her husband's death. We thought we had two separate questions to answer—about Carlton's plane, and about the finances of the Hour of Grace Foundation—but the two of them came together, and now it looks like one question. We came here to give you a chance to tell us our answers are wrong. We have information about the sums of money that are being taken from the Foundation; we have—"

'Tou have nothing!" she snapped mechanically. 'Tou talk about police—to me! to your wife! You talk about going to the police! With what, for Christ's sake? A few rumors and innuendoes you scraped up that sound like those asses, the Bakkers, and you think you'll get a free ride—oh, you'd be a big man, wouldn't you, by screwing me. I was your wife! I'm the mother of your son! But you'd sacrifice me to get an audience that always wants more dirt! You bastard, you'd do anything—"

"We're not doing it, Sybille," Valerie said evenly. She was trying not to shiver in the icy room. Her bare arms and legs were covered with

tiny bumps, but she would not rub them, she would not give any sign to Sybille that she was freezing. "The information will get out—it can't be a secret anymore—but we won't be the ones to put it on television. You must know, though, that someone else wiU."

Sybille was looking fixedly at Nick. The planes of her face were sharp beneath her taut skin, dark with anger. "No one will." She clipped her words to keep her voice under control. "Who does she think she is, acting noble, not being the one to tell lies about me on television? She isn't noble; she doesn't have anything! You don't know anything about me. Carl drove me crazy, begging me to take his money, begging me to marry him and get him loose from that scatterbrained bitch he was married to, but I couldn't stand him. He bored the hell out of me. You're a fool, Nick, getting mixed up with her; she ruins every man she touches."

Valerie stood up, angry, ice cold, wanting only to be away from there, outside, in the hot sun. For awhile Nick's presence had kept her quiet, but now even that was not enough. 'Tou killed him. You took his money, our money, and killed him so you could keep it. There's never enough for you, Sybille, there's never been enough, and you'll do anything to get more. It wasn't enough that you killed Carl; you're robbing the people who send money to Lily. You've manipulated her, you've used her goodness and her innocence, because you could count on them. You knew she loved you; you knew she wouldn't listen to anyone who said anything against you. Even now she can't bring her-seljf to believe what Bob Targus said—"

^'Whdt are you talking about? She doesn't know anything about it! She called me; she always calls me and tells me where she is. She's sick; she's staying with a friend—"

"She's staying with me. She was with us this afternoon when we talked to—"

^^Thafs a lie!" Sybille leaped out of the chair and darted to the other end of the room, away from Valerie. "She'd never go to you; I know damn well she wouldn't! You're trying to hurt me. That's all you've ever done, tried to make me feel I was nothing compared to you. You think you can be like me and take everything I have! I saw you, at Nick's house, sucking up to Chad; you want my son, you want my husband, you want Lily! You can't stand it that I'm better than you; you want me poor and helpless, the way I was when we met.. .goddam it, come back here! Tou^re not walking out on me!"

Valerie was at the door. She was shaking from the horrors of Sy-bille's sick rage, the venom stored up and nurtured all these years. She felt the grip of Sybille's poison like a thick-stemmed deadly plant

wrapping itself around her, blotting out the beauty of life: Nick and Chad and work and friends. I won^t let her. She's not going to destroy what is wonderful in the worlds and drag m down with her legacy of anger and death.

"I'll tell you this now because I hope I never see you again," she said, her voice tight with the effort to keep from trembling. "A long time ago, I thought we might be friends. That was all I ever wanted from you. You've never believed that, but it's true. Nick and Chad and Lily are part of my life because we love each other, not because of some conspiracy to hurt you; we don't even think of you when we're together, though I know that's hard for you to believe. I'm sure you'd rather think we're always conscious of you, whatever we're doing. If you'd ever learned to care about one other human being, Sybille, you wouldn't be living here alone in this damned refrigerator, and Graceville wouldn't be collapsing around you. You don't know the meaning of love or friendship or even affection; you don't know what honesty is, or decency; you're incapable of telling the truth; you use people and then throw them away; you murdered my husband, and for all I care you can go to hell."

She opened the door. "I'll wait for you outside," she said to Nick, and was gone.

Sybille opened her mouth, but no sound came. She leaned against a chair, gasping. She was dizzy and something was wrong with her eyes; the room looked blurred and wavering, as if seen through water. She gripped the edge of the chair to keep from falling. / can't stand it. Everyone's against me. I need protection!

Nick was standing, and she squinted, trying to bring him into focus. "You're running away, too? These insane accusations... you said you'd listen to my side... and then you run away."

"You haven't told me your side," he said.

"Why should I? I don't owe you anything. I gave you the best I had and it wasn't good enough; you left me for her, anyway. I don't have to talk to you; you'll just use it against me. You're desperate, I can tell; you dug and dug and still don't have your precious show. You don't know what our finances are, and you never will! You have some bullshit from a pilot we fired for lying, but that doesn't have a thing to do with Graceville. Water in the tanks!'" she cried in mincing tones. "Who the hell knows what that is, and who cares? People care about sex and money, and that's what you dug for in Graceville. But you didn't find any, did you? You didn't find anything that connects to anything else. Tou're nowhere. Why don't you just drop it? And drop that bitch, too. You and I could still get together, you know. This time

we'd be working together, too. I'd make you a board member of the Foundation, and we could run Lily's sermons on your network, two or three a week if you want; you have no idea how lucrative they are. And you could—we could take care of each other. Chad would like it, you know he would. It's so simple; it's always been simple; we just took a few detours, thafs all. Nick, listen to me!"

"Valerie told you we're not going to do the story." Nick's voice was slow and heavy with sadness, for Chad, and also for Sybille. "But that doesn't mean we haven't learned a lot that we have to pass on to others. And it does connect; it all connects through Carlton. He invested thirteen million dollars in Graceville while he was having an affair with you. I suppose that qualifies as the sex part; the whole story reeks of money. You've been skimming huge amounts from all the fimds involved with Graceville—money for the land purchase, construction costs, donations, memberships—"

"You don't know that!"

"—over forty percent of it goes to you and your partners. Carlton was rushing back to be at the closing on the land purchase—perhaps to stop it; we can't know for sure—when his plane crashed, after it had been tampered with on your orders. Those are the connections we've made."