The China Doll (13 page)

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Authors: Deborah Nam-Krane

Tags: #mystery, #college, #boston, #family secrets, #new adult

BOOK: The China Doll
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Richard shook his head. "Funny how that blew
up in your face."

"Miranda, now!" Alex bellowed. Miranda pulled
her hand away and stepped back next to Emily and Mitch.

"You don’t talk to me like that," she said
quietly. "And I’m not leaving without them."

"Maybe not as clueless as she acts, hmm?"
Robert asked with a sneer. "Though I guess you don’t have to be a
solar power engineer to know what a merciless man you are." He
turned to Emily. "So, Curious George, didn’t you ever wonder how
Alex here got to be where he is today?" Emily was silent. "No? But
I bet you noticed that he didn’t exactly run with Lucy’s crowd,
right? At least, not if Lucy could help it." Robert pointed his
finger in Alex’s direction. "I’ve got to hand it to you; it was a
little bit hard to figure out. You can be thorough too, can’t you,
Mister Sheldon?"

"You’ll find out tomorrow."

Robert waved his finger up and down. "See,
I’m pretty sure that by tomorrow you’re going to be doing way too
much damage control to do anything to me."

"I’m patient too," Alex promised.

"I’ll be sure to wear my bulletproof vest,
then." He turned back to Richard. "I guess all of you were born by
the time he’d achieved his meteoric rise in the finance world. I
know you were," Robert said softly. "In fact, we could say that
Alex owes it all to you."

Richard looked at his mother, then Alex.
"What is he talking about?"

"You knew Alex worked for your grandfather,
right? The Hendrickson one? Apparently, old Gerry took quite a
shine to young Mister Sheldon. He thought the boy had promise and
potential. Thought he knew how to get things done, isn’t that
right?" Alex didn’t say anything, but Miranda had never seen him
turn red before now.

"Old man Hendrickson—he knew how to get
things done too. He took a relatively modest inheritance in his
twenties and multiplied it ten-fold by the time he was dead. But
poor Gerry. His daughter was marrying an Abbot, and she didn’t
really have the head for the business. Jim was very bright, but he
didn’t have the heart for it. No, his passion was for science, for
making things work. Because there, usually, if you try hard enough,
you can make it work.

"But that’s not the way real life works, is
it? Because the one thing Jim wanted was Lucy Bartolome, the golden
girl. He’d been in love with her since they met in college, and he
fell all over himself trying to get her. But she wouldn’t have any
of it because Lucy played hard to get. That’s what they said. And
she didn’t have to settle. She was a Bartolome. Better than that,
she was a Leighton, one of the oldest families on the East Coast.
Didn’t matter that Jim was brilliant or decent or even rich on his
own. And because Jim really was decent, he walked away.

"Gerry, maybe, wasn’t so decent. Lucy
marrying into his family—that was a good idea. And he knew that he
should pursue a good idea. But he couldn’t convince her, and he
couldn’t convince her father. He didn’t want to look desperate. So
he turned to someone whom he was pretty sure could make the match."
He opened his hand. "You want to tell the rest of this story, Alex,
or should I just go on? I guarantee, you’ll sound better if you
tell it."

Alex smiled. "You don’t know what you’re
talking about, do you? You’re just guessing. Guesses—guts—they’re
good up to a point, but then you’ve got to back it up. And you’ve
got nothing."

"As I said, Mister Sheldon, I am very
thorough. You had your chance. And you had your chance then too.
Your first major investment. South Korea, wasn’t it? Not nearly as
much money required as a domestic investment, but the returns would
be amazing. It was a sure thing, at least for a little while. And
you just knew it. So you went, hat in hand, and asked the old man
for a loan. And you had every reason to think that he was going to
say no, but he didn’t. He didn’t even say maybe. He said if.
If
you get Lucy Bartolome to marry my son." Robert cocked
his head to the side. "How am I doing so far? Because you’re right.
It’s all speculation. It’s all a string of guesses. But I do have
something to back it up. The date that money was wired into your
account was the very day Lucy Bartolome announced her engagement to
Jim Hendrickson. And then more money was wired on the day of the
wedding, and further, a big fat bonus the day Richard was born. Who
knew matchmakers were paid so well—or is it pimps?"

Miranda shuddered. "Alex, what did you
do?"

Alex shook his head. "Don’t listen to him,
he’s twisting everything."

Richard took a deep breath. "Oh, God, Mom.
Even then?" Lucy turned red. "How could you?"

Lucy sank back against the wall. Joanna
looked at her, stricken. "I’m so sorry, Richard," she said
softly.

"You piece of garbage," Richard said calmly
to Alex. "What did my father do to you? That big house, all that
money, all the people you move around like chess pieces, no matter
who they are—was all of that worth my father’s life?"

Alex waited a moment before he spoke. "He was
very much in love with your mother," he said almost apologetically.
"I truly thought he’d be happy with her."

"How could he?" Richard bellowed. "You
know—and you must have known even then—that would have been
impossible!"

Robert waited a moment before he asked his
question. "How did you figure it out, Mister Sheldon?"

"Figure out what?" Zainab piped up.

"It was Tom," Joanna answered before Alex
could. "Tom told Alex."

Lucy shook with rage. "How, Jo? How did Tommy
know?"

"Lucy, for God’s sake!" Joanna shouted, tears
streaming down her face. "Was he not your brother? Did you not grow
up in the same house with him? Did you really think it was a
secret?"

"How do you know he knew?" Lucy asked
defiantly.

Emily looked at Zainab. "Knew what?"

Joanna trembled with disgust. "Because he
came to me, Lucy. Because he told me he knew, and he told me he’d
tell everyone, including your father, if I didn’t do what he
wanted." Zainab gasped. "So I did it, Luce. I did it to protect
you." She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "But Tom
decided that he was going to have a good laugh about it anyway,
didn’t he, Alex? Lucky you."

~~~

Tom smirked. "You know the worst part of
having a thing for Joanna all these years? She was Lucy’s best
friend. They were always together."

"And Lucy never put in a good word for
you?"

Tom laughed uncontrollably. Alex watched
quietly, sipping his drink. "No, no she didn’t. She was pretty
scornful about it, too. You know how she can be."

Alex shrugged. He didn’t know Lucy that well.
He had always assumed that she must be different than she seemed.
Like everyone else. "I suppose."

"Well, trust me. She can be a frosty little
bitch when she wants to be. She actually told me more than once to
stay away from her friend. Oh no, wait," Tom smiled again, like he
was savoring a good joke. "I believe her exact words were, ‘Joanna
is off-limits.’ Off-limits."

"I guess we can all be territorial about
certain people sometimes," Alex offered, half to himself.

"Certain people—oh yeah. And Lucy is used to
getting what she wants. She’s always been Dad’s favorite. Daddy’s
little girl. Whatever. No skin off my back. Although I was pretty
annoyed when he bought her that swanky condo as a graduation
present, whereas I got a pat on the head that the house was going
to be mine…one day. Thanks, Dad."

"It’s a nice house."

"I’m selling it as soon as Dad’s dead—I’ll
let you know when it goes on the market."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anyway, anyway! I dropped by Lucy’s
apartment once unannounced, and you should have seen how pissed she
was. You’d have thought I’d just walked in on her selling secrets
to the Russians or something. Never, ever drop in on her
unannounced again, or she was going to tell the doorman to bar me
permanently. I asked her what she had to hide, and she slapped me.
She slapped me, Alex. That’s beneath her. And then I got
curious."

"So what did you do?"

"So I pretended to leave and I waited to see
who was there. Because someone had to be there for her to get that
upset." Tom smirked again. "I waited over three hours, Alex."

"So who was it?"

"It was Joanna."

"Well you know, women like to talk
sometimes."

Tom shook his head. "Alex, wake up! It was
Joanna. She kissed Lucy goodnight when she left. For a long
time."

It took over a minute for what Tom was saying
to sink in. "What?" he asked at last. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me, I’ve never seen Lucy kiss anyone
else like that before."

"Whoa!" Alex exclaimed, still shocked. "I
guess that’s why she wanted her own apartment."

"You think?"

"So if Joanna and Lucy...how did you...?"

Tom winked. "Because Joanna is a very good
‘friend’, and she knows what Dad would do to Luce if he found out
about her little love nest."

Alex was more impressed by Tom’s audacity
than repulsed by his callousness. "You wanted her that bad,
huh?"

"It was worth it." He smiled at the memory.
"I’m pretty sure I was her first—you know, her real first."

"And how was it?"

"I’d go back for more, but she was really
upset. She cried after—I think she even cried during. And she told
me that if I ever touched her again she’d tell Lucy. And there we
enter into an interesting conundrum, because Lucy could find plenty
of ways to make my life difficult, no matter what I told Dad. She’s
resourceful, if nothing else. So I think, at least for now, Miss
Hazlett is going to be a one-shot deal."

~~~

"Oh my God," Jessie said. Mitch caught her as
she started to fall. She pulled herself up and walked over to Alex.
"That’s what it was, wasn’t it? That’s what you had on her, right?
That’s what kept Michael out of prison when he almost raped
me."

"Jessie," Alex stammered. "I needed to
protect Michael."

Jessie slapped Alex across the face. Then she
turned to Miranda. Jessie was so enraged that Miranda trembled at
the sight of her. "Grow up already! You graduated from a rapist to
a first-class blackmailer. He’s just a well-paid pimp. He isn’t
your hero or anyone else’s, okay? He’s only out for himself!" Then
she pushed past Alex and walked right up to her aunt. "And you!
Welcome to the twenty-first century! It doesn’t matter
anymore—certainly not enough to let someone like Alex or Michael or
my father get away with everything they did!"

"It does still matter," Lucy said as she
wept. As hated as Lucy had always been, not one person in the room
enjoyed seeing her like this. "I know that every day. There is
always something out there to remind me of how different it is, and
different always means worse. Don’t let anyone tell you
otherwise."

"Don’t touch me," Miranda screamed at Alex,
who stepped back. "What have you done? How could you?" Always the
same question, and always the same silence. She turned on Robert.
"Are you proud of yourself?"

"That’s an interesting question from someone
with your history," Robert said indifferently. "Did you not marry
the rapist in question?"

"Don’t you dare bring him up," Miranda said
angrily. "Leave him out of your little circus."

"Hmm, another surprisingly smart move on your
part," Robert said appreciatively. "Because if we talk too much
about him, then everyone here might find out that you’re still
seeing him."

Miranda laughed, then clapped her hands.
"Bravo, Detective! It was fun while it lasted, but you just got it
all wrong. Michael is on another continent, and unless you can
fabricate something about how I’ve been jumping back and forth to
Europe in the space of a day, you just lost your platform."

"What do you know? You bluff well, too. You
know very well that he isn’t in Europe anymore. He hasn’t been for
over a month. He’s here."

Miranda felt like the floor fell out from
underneath her. "You’re lying."

"Don’t overplay your hand, sweetheart. I’ve
seen you two in the library together, on the same street, and in
that café right downstairs. Quite a few times there, I might add.
Guess you didn’t pick up too many tips on hiding things from your
new-old boyfriend over there."

Miranda rounded on Richard. "You promised me!
You told me he wasn’t here."

Richard was equally shocked. "I had no idea,
I swear to God. He wrote something about the beaches on the Riviera
two days ago."

Emily grabbed Miranda and brought her over to
a chair. "Congratulations, Bob. You’ve proven what an incredible
stalker you make. I hate to agree with Alex, but as he said, you’ve
got nothing. Are you investigating Jessie’s mother’s murder, or the
creep sending her threatening notes? Doesn’t matter, because if you
had anything you’d have told us."

"Maybe I just have my own way of doing
things."

"Yeah?" Mitch asked. "That’s good, but I’m
pretty sure your boss isn’t going to agree with any of this. And if
Alex isn’t going to make that call tomorrow, I will."

"I really hope for your sake that you rethink
that."

"Here’s something I learned in my criminal
justice classes: threatening someone in front of witnesses never
works out well, even if you are a cop."

"Yeah, we’ll see. But you’re wrong,
fortunately. Because I do have something." He pulled a plastic bag
out of his pocket. "Right here is the very first note Jessie
received. Same poem as the first, and I believe the second,
although no one turned that one in."

"What do you mean the very first?" Lucy
said.

Miranda looked up at Jessie. "Boarding
school," she said. "That was the package you got."

"Jessie’s roommate found it at the end of
that year and turned it over to the headmaster. He didn’t think
anything of it, but fortunately he’s a bit of a pack rat."

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