Suspicion (4 page)

  Kate’s house was located in Cleveland Park, a quiet, upscale neighborhood in the District’s upper northwest. It was a classic two-story Colonial with green shutters, a screened porch and a large backyard.

  Kate had chosen Cleveland Park not only because of its small-town charm, but also because of its proximity to Potomac, where Alison’s grandparents lived, and to Georgetown, where Eric would be moving after his marriage to industrial heiress, Megan Hollbrook. As much as Kate had wanted to distance herself from her ex-husband after the divorce, it was important for Alison to be near him, to feel she could see him as often as she needed to.

  As usual, the first thing that greeted Kate when she came home was the deafening sound of rock music blasting from Alison’s CD player. Angry at the teenager’s blatant disregard for their neighbors, Kate dropped her briefcase on a chair, shrugged off her camel-hair coat and hurried up the stairs to her daughter’s bedroom. Ignoring the No Trespassing sign hanging from the knob, she flung open the door.

  Alison was stretched out on the bed, her right ankle resting on her left knee and her foot beating in time with the music. In spite of the noise, she seemed totally absorbed in the schoolbook she held.

  At times like these, when her face was free of hostility, Alison’s beauty, caught somewhere between womanhood and childhood, was almost breathtaking. Long, silky blond hair framed a delicate face with high cheekbones, beautiful gray eyes she had inherited from her father, and a small, petulant mouth.

  Unnoticed, Kate marched to the wall-to-wall bookcase and stopped the offending sound with a push of her finger.

  Alison jumped off the bed, a look of shock on her face. "What are you doing?"

  "Turning this earsplitting machine off," Kate said, bracing herself for another fight. "Something I wouldn’t have to do if you didn’t constantly challenge everything I say."

  "You said not to play my music loud. That wasn’t loud."

  "Mrs. Lieberman disagrees. She’s complained twice already."

  In a gesture that was meant to be arrogant, Alison flipped her long hair behind her shoulder and thrust her chin forward. "If we didn’t live in this stupid house, we wouldn’t have to worry about nagging old neighbors like Mrs. Lieberman."

  "This stupid house," Kate replied a little testily, "is your home now, whether you like it or not. So I suggest you adapt." She nodded toward the bookcase. "And that means no loud music. You break that rule one more time and I’ll take your CD player away." Then, half-expecting Alison to retreat to her bed and sulk as she often did, Kate headed for the door. "Dinner is in forty minutes."

  "Well, I don’t like it," Alison said, following Kate down the stairs. "In fact, I hate it here. This house is too small. And it’s miles away from my friends."

  "Maybe it’s time you made new friends."

  "I tried. They all hate me because I’m rich."

  Kate held back a sigh. "Alison, how many times have I told you that you’re not rich. Your grandparents are rich. Maybe if you stopped acting like such a spoiled brat, you wouldn’t have so much trouble making friends."

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, Kate

  regretted them. Harsh criticism was hardly the way to improve the relationship between her and Alison. What Kate needed was patience and understanding, both of which Alison kept pushing to the limit.

  "I’m sorry, baby," Kate said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs and turning to face her daughter. "I didn’t mean that."

  "Oh, you meant it all right," Alison spit. "I heard you talk to Grandma on the phone the other day. I heard you tell her how much I had changed."

  "You have."

  "You’ve changed, too. First you divorced Daddy for no reason at all. Then you forced me to leave Grandpa’s house where I’ve lived all my life. You never once asked me what I wanted to do, who I wanted to live with. That’s not how it used to be. We always had family conferences where everyone had a chance to express their opinion."

  "This was different. The decision that you should live with me was one your father and I made together." Her voice softened. "I’m sorry if you felt left out, baby. We didn’t think it was fair to ask you to choose between your father and your mother."

  "So you chose for me."

  "It was in your best interest. I know you don’t agree with me right now, but someday you will."

  "No, I won’t."

  Rather than pursue an argument she couldn’t possibly win, Kate took a deep, calming breath and walked into the kitchen. With its blue tile countertops, oak cabinets and pleasant smells, the room never failed to cheer her up. But tonight the magic wasn’t working.

  Aware that Alison had followed her, Kate opened the refrigerator, pulled out the meat loaf she had prepared before going to court that morning and slid it into the

  oven. "Look, sweetie," she said, hoping that the sight of her daughter’s favorite dish would turn the girl around. "What do you say we call a truce for a couple of hours and try to have a nice, peaceful dinner. I’ve had a bad day."

  Alison’s transformation was immediate. For a moment, she was once again the sweet, compassionate young girl Kate knew and loved. "Oh, my God, I totally forgot. The verdict came in, didn’t it?" She searched her mother’s face, saw the grim expression and let her shoulders sag. Tears filled her eyes. "They found Tony guilty."

  Kate nodded.

  "Oh, no." Leaning against the island, Alison lowered her head in her hands and wept hopelessly.

  In two short strides, Kate was by her side, enveloping her in her arms. Six years older than Alison, Tony had spent a lot of time at the Fairchilds’ house when he was growing up, and the two had formed a strong friendship.

  Kate continued to hold her daughter tightly, stroking her hair. "I’m not going to abandon him, Alison. I’ll be working very hard on his appeal."

  Suddenly, Alison pulled away from her mother’s embrace. "This is all Detective Calhoon’s fault," she said in a voice full of hatred. "If he hadn’t brought up Tony’s association with that street gang years ago, the jury would have had a different opinion of him."

  "Detective Calhoon was just doing his job, darling."

  "Well, his job stinks."

  Kate smiled. "If it’s any consolation, I agree with you."

  Alison wiped her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. "When is the sentencing?"

  "January second."

  "Why so late? Tony will go crazy."

  "The judge’s docket was full. That’s the first date she had available."

  "Can I see him?" Alison asked after a while.

  "Sure." Kate took a strand of hair that clung to Alison’s wet face and tucked it behind the girl’s ear. "I’ll see if I can arrange a visit for you sometime next week."

  "Thanks."

  Her face expressionless again, Alison began to set the table. As Kate busied herself with the rest of the meal, she threw an occasional glance toward the teenager. God. how she missed the way they used to be, more like sisters than mother and daughter. That moment they had just shared, however short, had made her realize how badly she wanted her sweet, young daughter back.

  "You need to be a little more patient with her," Rose Fairchild had told Kate a few days ago when the two women had met for one of their weekly lunch dates. "She’s had to deal with an awful lot lately-the divorce, a new home, a new school. And puberty." The gray eyes, so much like Eric’s, had twinkled with amusement. "It’s been a while since I was a teenager, but surely von remember what it was like, don’t you, dear?"

  Maybe Rose was right. It wasn’t easy to be thirteen. Maybe Kate was the one who was being too demanding, not Alison.

  Holding back an uncharacteristic sigh of self-pity, Kate took a Sara Lee pound cake from the freezer and set it on the counter to defrost. Alison was the most important person in her life and she would not give up until she had won her back. No matter what it took.

  In spite of Kate’s efforts to salvage what was left of the evening, Alison had remained cold and distant throughout dinner, answering Kate’s questions about school in monosyllabic sentences that only added to the tension. At eight o’clock, claiming to have homework, she had retreated to her room, looking more sullen than ever.

  Now, alone at the kitchen table, Kate stared pensively into a mug half-filled with cold coffee. What did she have to do to set things right between her and Alison? The only person the child seemed to care for these days, besides her grandparents, was Eric. Not that he wasn’t deserving of his daughter’s love. If one was to discount his lack of parental guidance and his inability to say no, Eric was a good father. He was fun, understanding and generous to a fault.

  A knock at the door made her jump. She glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall. Ten-fifteen. Who could it be at this time of night?

  She stood up and went to the door, cautiously peering out the narrow side window. But before she could make out the shape on the front step, her visitor knocked again, this time more insistently.

  "Kate, it’s me. Eric. Open the door."

  "Eric." Not bothering to conceal her irritation, Kate punched in the code on the security system and opened

  the door. Her former husband stood on the threshold, dressed in jeans, a navy duffle coat and black Reeboks. With his blond good looks and youthful physique, he looked more like a college student than a thirty eight year old divorced man. "What do you want?" she snapped.

  If he noticed the edge in her voice, he didn’t show it. Instead, he walked past her. "I need to talk to you."

  Kate let the door swing shut behind him. "You could have picked a better time."

  "This couldn’t wait." At the kitchen doorway, he glanced toward the second floor. "Alison asleep?"

  "It’s ten-fifteen on a school night. Of course she’s asleep."

  It wasn’t until Eric had stepped into the kitchen and was in full light that she saw the changes in him. The year-round tan he worked hard to maintain seemed to have faded, and there was a haunted, almost desperate look in the handsome gray eyes.

  Her first thought was for her former mother-in-law. "What is it? Has something happened to Rose?"

  "My mother is fine." Raking both hands through his hair, he began to pace. "It’s me. I’m in big trouble, Kate." He turned pleading eyes toward her. "I didn’t know where else to go."

  Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of trouble?"

  "I’m being blackmailed."

  "Blackmailed." Kate took a couple of seconds to digest the news. "By whom?"

  "A woman." He averted his eyes. "A woman…I slept with a couple of nights ago."

  "Oh, Eric." Kate slowly shook her head as a sense of deja vu swept over her. Eric had always had a weakness where women were concerned, but when Rose had told

  her that he’d changed now that he was engaged to Megan Hollbrook, Kate had wanted to believe it-for Alison’s sake. "You slept with a woman two months before your wedding? Have you lost your mind?"

  He stopped his pacing and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Believe me, Kate, you aren’t telling me anything I haven’t told myself a dozen times already. All I can say in my defense is that I was drunk."

  "Apparently not too drunk to have sex."

  "No. Although I doubt that a lack of libido would have made any difference."

  "What do you mean?"

  His eyes flashed with sudden anger. "I mean that even if I hadn’t been able to screw her, that bitch would have made it look as if I had. Just so she could squeeze money out of me."

  Kate took two fresh mugs from the cupboard and filled them with coffee. "Why don’t you start at the beginning?"

  Eric took the mug she handed him with both hands and stared into it for a moment. "I met her at Lyle Wanamaker’s birthday bash on Saturday night."

  Kate knew Lyle well. A rich playboy who liked to live on the edge, he had a deplorable influence on Eric. "You went there alone?"

  He nodded. "Megan’s bridesmaids were giving her a shower. I didn’t want to go without her, but she insisted I should, that Lyle would be offended if I didn’t at least make an appearance."

  "And within minutes, you had a leggy blonde attached to your arm," Kate said sarcastically. "Some things never change, do they, Eric?"

  "It wasn’t like that." He still wouldn’t look at her. "She was the one who came on to me. Her name was

  Gina Lamont. She said she was a model and that a friend had brought her to the party. But I had her pegged for what she was-a high-priced call girl-the moment I laid eyes on her."

  He set the mug down, and without asking her if he could smoke, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pack of Salems and shook a cigarette out. Kate started to object and then stopped. He was upset enough as it was without adding to his misery. Having no ashtrays, she reached inside a cabinet, pulled out one of her mismatched saucers and set it on the counter.

  Using a solid gold lighter, Eric lit the cigarette and drew on it deeply before releasing the smoke toward the ceiling. "When she asked me if I wanted to take her home, I told her I was engaged and very much in love with my fiancee, but she wouldn’t leave me alone."

  "You could have left."

  "I could have done a lot of things. Unfortunately, after three martinis, I wasn’t exactly thinking with my brain."

  "So you took her to bed."

  He nodded. "I woke up at three in the morning with a hangover and a naked woman lying next to me."

  "What did you do?"

  "What do you think? I dropped a hundred bucks on her bureau and hightailed it out of there as fast as I could, while praying I’d never see her again."

  "I take it your wish didn’t come true."