The Arrangement (30 page)

“Gramma Jo, couldn’t
you
tell the court who I am? You raised me.”

“Of course, but I can’t prove anything, and they have no reason to believe me. I’m not your birth mother, and I’m not Julia Fairmont. You need her help, and she owes you that much.”

Marnie nodded, but she wanted nothing from Julia. She wasn’t sure she could even look at the woman who’d done something so reckless and then refused to take responsibility. She’d disposed of Marnie like trash.

Marnie didn’t say anything, because she didn’t want to upset her grandmother, but she knew exactly what she was going to do.

A
s Marnie drove up to Sea Clouds she saw the van of a local television station parked outside the gates on the far side of the entrance. There was a second van and an SUV that looked as if they were media-related as well.

Some of the people milling about appeared to be part of the television crew, and Marnie recognized the statuesque chestnut-blond female reporter from the local news. The rest had cameras with impressive zoom lenses, and some looked suspiciously like tabloid reporters.

Did Mirage Bay have paparazzi?

Either something newsworthy had just happened at Sea Clouds, or word of Alison Fairmont Villard’s murder charges was bigger news than Marnie could possibly have imagined. There’d been TV crews at the courthouse when she left yesterday, and she’d wondered how they could possibly have known about the arraignment. Someone had to have tipped them off, possibly Bogart, although she didn’t know how that would help the case against her.

Marnie pressed the remote button, and the crowd spotted her as the gates opened. Several men rushed toward her, trying to cut her off. It was difficult not to hit anyone, but she had no intention of being trapped. One man came close enough to kick her fender as she veered away from him and sped through the gates. Her heart did a painful slam-thud.

Jerk. What was that all about?

She wheeled around the side to the wall of garages rather than park in the portico, where she would be exposed to the photographers. The gates closed automatically, but she couldn’t see if they’d shut quickly enough to keep the reporters out. Fortunately, the garage was secure, and she made sure the door was down before she got out of the car.

A moment later, she rushed into the kitchen, where Rebecca was busy preparing lunch. “Where’s Julia?”

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, her hands in a colander full of the spring greens she was rinsing for salads. “You mean your mother? She’s upstairs in her bedroom, getting ready to go out. Alison? Is something wrong?”

“The barbarians are at the gate,” Marnie called back.

Julia was standing in front of the bedroom mirrors when she burst into her room unannounced.

“What’s going on outside?” Marnie asked. “There are TV crews.”

“There you are, darling. Come here.” Julia, nonplussed, held out her hand to Marnie, who didn’t take it.

“Did you hear me?”

“Of course.” Julia’s eyes were glittery, her voice brittle. “Now, come
here.
I think we should have our picture taken together, don’t you? A mother-daughter portrait? We haven’t done that since you were little. Shame on us!”

“Mother-
daughter
portrait?” The idea was abhorrent, but Julia seemed oblivious to the disbelief in Marnie’s tone. Marnie wanted to slap her, but had the feeling Julia would shatter like crystal. She was dressed to go out, in a chic three-piece summer suit with a bustier top. But her hair was too stiff, her makeup too perfect and masklike. It reminded Marnie of armor.

Julia clicked across the marble floor in her sling-back heels and slim skirt, clasped Marnie’s hand and dragged her back to the mirror. “See?” was all she said.

Her voice was throaty, and her eyes filled as she gazed at their reflections in the mirror. Marnie’s hair was Medusa-like and Julia’s smile was flash-frozen. Not your ideal mother-daughter pose, but the resemblance was there. Now Marnie knew why. She also knew they were both in trouble. Something was terribly wrong here.

“There’s a news crew outside,” Marnie said, determined to be heard this time. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“The police came this morning. It was the CSI unit—you know, like the show your brother enjoys so much. They searched your room again and then went through our garbage cans. They found something of yours and took it with them, a piece of your clothing, I think.”

Dear God. Marnie hadn’t noticed that any of her clothing was missing. This wasn’t the time to question Julia in depth—or to confront her about the daughter she’d abandoned. But Marnie had no more choice now than she’d had with Gramma Jo. She was out of time. They were
all
out of time.

“What exactly did they find in the garbage,” she asked, “and how did it get there?”

“I don’t
know,
Alison. I wasn’t allowed out there. They said I was obstructing their search. They escorted me back inside, and told me to stay out of their way, in so many words.”

“Was Bret here? Does he know what happened?”

“Your brother suggested that he and I take a walk on the beach the way you do so often. It was pleasant.”

Pleasant?
“Is Bret here now?”

“No, he’s gone on an interview for an editorial position with a men’s magazine. Can you imagine? If he gets the job, he’ll be moving to New York. He says it’s something he’s always wanted to do. Things have a way of working out for the best, don’t they? The family has always been lucky that way.”

Marnie stared at her in disbelief. Julia’s strange, vacant smile was starting to make her feel ill. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously? I’ve been charged with murder. I could go to prison, death row.”

Julia sighed. “Now you’re being dramatic. You’re not going to jail, not for one second. Your attorney won’t allow that.”

Marnie didn’t waste time arguing. People like Julia believed money could solve anything, because too often it could. The ones who had it bought what they wanted from the ones who didn’t, a sad legacy of the American Dream. But throwing some money at the right attorney wouldn’t solve this one. It was hideously complicated.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Julia said.

“No, it isn’t. You need to sit down. I have something to tell you.”

Julia blinked. “Can’t it wait? I’m on my way out to lunch, and I desperately need the distraction.”

Marnie stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way. “No, it can’t wait. Sit down. Did you hear me?
Sit down now.
”

A glimpse of the real Julia surfaced as she glared at Marnie. For a second, her eyes seemed to flare with the tiny red dots of an overexposed photograph. She was angry, enraged. Good, now they might get somewhere.

“I’m sitting.” Julia plunked down on the chaise by the windows, opened her Gucci bag and took out her makeup case. “Hurry up,” she said, opening her compact to check her face in the mirror.

“I didn’t kill LaDonna Jeffries or Marnie Hazelton.”

Julia tidied up her lipstick with the nail of her little finger. “Of course you didn’t kill them. I never thought that. No one thinks that. You’re completely innocent. The charges are ridiculous.”

“I am innocent, but not for the reason you’re thinking.” Marnie hesitated, wondering how to soften the blow, but realizing there was no way. And why should she? Had Julia ever softened the blow for the child she didn’t want?

Anger churned in Marnie’s gut. “I didn’t kill LaDonna because she was my best friend, and I didn’t kill Marnie Hazelton because I
am
Marnie Hazelton.”

Julia looked up from the mirror. Her lashes quivered. “What did you say?”

“I’m not Alison. Your son has been sniffing around and hinting at that since Andrew and I arrived.” She saw the glimmer of desperation in Julia’s eyes and hesitated, still struggling with the need to protect her from the truth. “Bret was right. I’m not her.”

“What in the world are you talking about? Are you all right?”

Marnie came very close to laughing. “God, no, I’m not all right, but I’m better than I have been for quite a while now.” A part of her wanted to stop. Clearly, Julia would let her go on with the charade, and might even encourage it, but Marnie couldn’t. Even though it would expose her—and Andrew—to grave consequences, it had to be done. Andrew was gone. Marnie had to accept the possibility that he knew what was going on and had run out on her. It might even have been intentional. He had some grand plan, and Marnie was never anything more than a pawn. At any rate, he wasn’t here, and she had to protect herself, whatever that took.

Julia didn’t interrupt once while Marnie described the meeting she’d just had with her surrogate grandmother. Julia listened as silently as Gramma Jo had, but her face and body were knotted. She had none of the older woman’s calm acceptance, only icy gray eyes suffused with disbelief and denial.

“I know what happened in my grandmother’s cottage twenty-two years ago,” Marnie said as she finished. “You were pregnant, but not by your husband. You were desperate, and people do terrible things out of desperation—I know that, too. I’ve been desperate myself.”

She went on to tell Julia everything she remembered about February second and what had happened since. No details were held back, no matter how difficult they might be to bear. She needed to shock the other woman into hearing her. But by the time Marnie was done, Julia had gone from disbelief to defiance. Her face was pale with outrage and her hands were clenched.

“Why are you here?” she demanded. “And what do you want from me? If you think you’re getting your hands on Alison’s trust fund, think again. I’d hire a hit man before I’d let you see a cent.”

Julia’s outrage was contagious. It burned in Marnie’s soul like hellfire. She wanted to strangle the woman with her bare hands. How dare she rail at her and make accusations?

Julia was up and out of her chair. Her designer bag clattered to the floor and she threw the mirror on the bed. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” she said. “You conspired with Andrew to deceive me in the cruelest possible way. You pretended to be Alison! You made me believe my daughter was alive. You gave me
hope.
”

Marnie’s throat tightened. She heard the pain in Julia’s voice, but whatever compassion she felt was gone before it had any chance of expression. Her own voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “I
am
your daughter. Do you understand what you’ve done to
me?
”

The anger became horror. Julia’s mouth went slack. She looked away.

Marnie wondered if Julia had ever thought about anything except in terms of its impact on her. She seemed congenitally incapable of empathy and she’d passed that trait on to her son. It made Marnie deeply regret that she was related to these people in any way. She’d stubbornly wanted to believe that Alison might be different, but now she was sure that her half sister was as sick as her family. They were corrupt. All of them. Emotionally corrupt.

When Julia finally looked up, it wasn’t to apologize or explain. “Did Andrew kill her?” she asked. “Will you tell me that much?”

“I don’t know,” Marnie admitted. “At this point I don’t know where he is or what he’s done. I swear.”

“Then what is it you want? You’re here, telling me this story. You must want something.”

Marnie had a moment of wishing that she could walk out and never say another word to this woman, but she had her grandmother’s caution in her head—and the fear of what would happen to Gramma Jo if Marnie went to jail. She wouldn’t have the money to stay in that dismal place.

“I’m not a cold-blooded murderer,” Marnie explained. “Butch attacked me, and I acted in self-defense, but the authorities aren’t going to believe that. I’m not even sure they’ll believe I’m Marnie Hazelton without proof.”

“How can
I
possibly help you with that?”

“There are no fingerprints on file for me, no records. It’s like I don’t exist. My grandmother said she made up a certificate when I was born and gave it to you. Do you have it?”

Julia’s face went pale with shock. “You can’t be serious. Do you realize what will happen if you reveal that you’re my daughter? What if the media found out? Can you imagine the scandal? The Fairmonts and the Driscolls have been involved in philanthropy and public service going back decades. They’re good people,
fine
people. Do you expect me to throw all that away?”

“You threw
me
away,” Marnie said. “Too bad you weren’t able to get rid of me. Then you wouldn’t have any of this messiness to deal with.”

Julia strode over to a console holding a tray with three crystal decanters of liquor, all in shades of amber. She filled a highball glass nearly to the rim, and after she’d drunk half of it, she banged the glass down.

“We’re done talking,” she said.

“Done?” Marnie felt a moment of paralyzing fear and indecision. Julia was throwing her out? Her fate lay in this woman’s hands. Marnie would have no legal counsel without Julia, no support. She had no money of her own, except what was in her wallet. It was all Andrew’s. She had to make Julia understand how important this was. Scandal was nothing compared to what Marnie was facing.

“How can we be done?” she said. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t care what you do. My life is in ruins. Get out of my house and leave me alone to deal with that.”

Marnie nodded. As swiftly as panic has risen, anger flared, to burn it back. Julia had never cared about her bastard daughter, and there was nothing Marnie could say or do to make her care. Julia’s fancy world was the only thing that existed for her, and Marnie had never fit there and never would. Julia had tried to abort her, and when that failed, she’d abandoned her. Marnie understood that women were sometimes forced to make terrible choices. She’d had to take a life to defend her own. But Julia had turned her back on a helpless infant, apparently because she couldn’t stomach the sight of the deformities that she’d caused with her carelessness.