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Authors: Diana Diamond

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Alexandra had watched as Nicole was taken from the emergency room and wheeled into an elevator. The glimpse she got was anything but reassuring. Nicole still wore the apparatus that breathed for her, and was still tethered to bags of fluids and electronic machines. She watched the elevator doors close and then kept track of the floors as they blinked above. Four, she noted, and then she stepped to the next elevator and punched in the fourth floor. She arrived only a few seconds after the gurney had been pushed into an operating room.

She sat staring at the door, amazed that Nicole’s life should be so important to her. She despised the girl, still certain that she had played her son for a fool, still suspicious that she had compromised her husband. She hadn’t wavered a bit in her perception of Nicole as a conniving manipulator who had invaded her family just to steal its wealth.

But she had come back! The girl had already won her battle and was carrying off her loot. Yet she had turned back to try and save a
friend from a mobster’s vengeance. She could be enjoying her first sip of champagne at a lush European resort. Instead, she was lying on a table, spattered with her own blood, and hovering in a grim zone between life and death.

She held no affection for Nicole. The girl was a shameless hustler, and any attempt to elevate her status would only blacken the reputation of her own daughter. If Nicole were the victim, then Pam was the criminal. She should be over at the police station with her husband and her daughter. But the guttersnipe had come back to save a friend, and the friend had tried to kill her. So just who was virtuous and who was depraved?

She wanted Nicole to live, and not just because that would make things easier for her daughter. She needed resolution. There was a fundamental flaw in her equations of good and evil, right and wrong. Nicole might be able to point to the error. If she died, Alexandra would never know where she had gone wrong. She doubted that she would ever be able to sleep again.

The door swung open and the attendants reappeared, now pushing a bed. There were still the poles and the IV bags and the electronic displays. But the bed was made up with fresh white sheets. The blanket was pulled taut and tucked in. The desperation seemed to have vanished from the nurses’ expressions.

A doctor came out, glanced around until he spotted Alexandra and then came over to her.

“You’re her mother?”

“Yes, I am.”

“She’s going to make it. The bleeding has stopped, her signs are stable, and the wound has been cleaned out. You won’t be able to talk to her tonight. But she should be conscious in the morning. Is there someplace where we can reach you?”

“I’ll be right here. I’ll be waiting outside her room.”

EIGHTY-ONE

A
LEXANDRA WAS
nervous as she left the house and started down the path to the cabana. As she walked she rehearsed the words she would use, unusual for someone who simply spoke her mind. But this was going to be a difficult conversation. She was going to ask Nicole to help Pam stay out of prison. It was a favor that she had no right to ask and that her daughter certainly didn’t deserve.

She had stayed at the hospital through the first days of Nicole’s recovery, until the tubes were removed and the monitors were disconnected. She had thanked Nicole for coming back to rescue her daughter, and apologized for Pam’s murderous behavior. Then she had gone to the administration office and made the arrangements for Nicole to be moved out to Rockbottom for her recovery.

Alexandra came home to find Pam in the living room, released into the custody of her father. Jack had called in dozens of favors, presenting a scenario of a ridiculous and childish scheme by his daughter. He had sent Nicole away, and Pam had plotted to bring her back. Why? Because she wanted her as a partner in her gallery.

What about the gunshot? The attempted murder? A terrible accident Jack’s lawyers had argued. Did the prosecutors really think that his daughter had any hopes of holding off the police assault team with a purse-size pistol? The crime, they argued was entirely within the family, and no one in the family was anxious for prosecution. In truth, Jack’s daughter was mentally ill and needed psychiatric care more than a stint in prison.

Ben Tobin had to be rescued if Pam’s defense was to hold up. They couldn’t have Ben on a witness stand explaining how Pam had rigged her brother’s air regulator, and how they had brought Nicole back with the specific intention of murdering her and disposing of the body. So Ben was presented as simply the intermediary between the two women.

There was a great deal of contradictory evidence. A quick check of bank records showed that Ben had transferred over nine million dollars from Nicole’s account to an account he shared with Pam. And, of course, there were police witnesses who could testify that Pam had a gun pressed against Nicole’s head, and had promised to kill her sister-in-law unless the police let her escape. Negotiations between Jack’s attorneys and the prosecutors had been going on all the while Nicole was in the hospital, and were continuing during her month of recovery at Rockbottom. It was because her daughter’s fate was still in the hands of the district attorney’s office that Alexandra needed Nicole’s help.

When she reached the cabana she saw Nicole struggling with her laps in the swimming pool. She was making fine progress. When she had been released from the hospital she hadn’t been able to raise her left arm over her head. Now she was able to stretch it into a swimming stroke and was regaining much of her lost strength. Alexandra had been impressed by Nicole’s determination. The girl had politely avoided offers of special treatment and had plunged into the painful task of rehabilitation. She knew that Nicole wouldn’t be satisfied with anything but a complete recovery.

But her admiration fell well short of affection. She and Nicole would never be friends, much less come to see themselves as mother and daughter. Too much anger and resentment had passed between them. Alexandra was unshaken in her belief that Nicole had worked her way into her son’s life only to lay hands on his fortune. She knew that she had tricked Jonathan into a hasty marriage. She suspected that the girl had even seduced her husband just to guarantee herself a hefty settlement. There was no doubt in her mind that if Nicole hadn’t come along, her son would be alive, her daughter sound, and her family intact.

For her part, Nicole would never forget that she had been rejected out of hand and deemed “not one of us.” She could probably never forgive the ruthless investigation that exposed every secret sin of her past. There was no way to ignore that Alexandra had openly accused her of murdering Jonathan.

The two women had not found peace but had merely accepted a truce. They could function together, be polite, share feelings, even admit their own vulnerabilities. But they were still a long way from a heartfelt embrace.

Nicole climbed out of the pool and retrieved her towel from the chaise.

“You’re doing better each day,” Alexandra called as she emerged from the shadow of the cabana building.

“Oh, thanks! It seems to be getting easier.”

As she approached Alexandra couldn’t help noticing the scars. Pink tissue extended out from both sides of the shoulder strap, stretched into ugly welts. The starlike pattern was as big as her hand, reaching from her collarbone to her shoulder, and disappearing into the top of her swimsuit. When Nicole had heard the police approaching the cabin she had made a sudden leap behind the toppled chair. Pam fired and the bullet punched a tiny hole in the back of her shoulder. But it had carried shards of broken bones out through her chest, tearing up muscles and arteries on the way.

“Is that scar fading?” Alexandra asked.

Nicole looked down. “Maybe a bit. It doesn’t seem so . . . angry.” She draped the towel around her shoulders so that it hung over the offensive wound. “The doctor wants me to see a plastic surgeon. They can smooth it and change the color. But that’s for another time. Right now the plan is to get everything working.”

She climbed the steps to the guest apartments above the cabana, Alexandra following at her heels. Nicole had moved down from the main house as soon as she was ready to begin rehabilitation. Alexandra had set up one of the rooms with gym equipment and decorated another as a permanent residence.

“I understand Jack has come to an agreement with Jimmy Farr,” Nicole called from the bedroom where she was dressing.

“Yes, he did,” Alexandra answered from the living room. “How did you find out?”

“He sent me a note telling me that Jimmy wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. I hope he’s right!”

“I’m sure he is,” Alexandra called back. “Jack usually gets what he wants.”

Jimmy Farr had scarcely banked the bogus ransom dollars when his troubles began. Banks bought up the mortgages to his properties and then were horrified that their investments were being used for illegal purposes. They called in the loans. Health inspectors went through his kitchens and found numerous violations. The clubs were shut down. Then tax agents charged unreported income, and
had documents from offshore banks that were usually more discreet. Within a month, Jimmy felt the full power of Jack’s enormous financial muscle. When Greg Lambert suggested that the Donners would be grateful if he returned the ransom money, Jimmy Farr jumped at the opportunity.

“Some spring water?” Nicole asked when she came from the bedroom, dressed in slacks and an athletic sweatshirt.

“Yes, I’d like that.” She followed Nicole into the kitchenette and took a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The two women gestured a toast and then drank. They struggled with small talk until they were back in the living room, and then Alexandra drew a breath and started into her prepared speech.

“Nicole, I want to tell you where Pam’s legal affairs stand. And then I’m going to be brash enough to ask for your help.” Nicole crossed her legs and leaned back, showing that she was willing to listen.

“We’re close to an agreement on a plea bargain. Basically, both Pam and Ben will plead guilty to extortion and receive suspended sentences. Ben will be disbarred. Pam will stay in the sanitarium until the doctors tell the court she’s cured. I know this is a miscarriage of justice and that it basically ignores the cruelty you’ve suffered. But much as I detest my daughter’s crime, I can’t bear to think of her in a jail cell.”

“I can’t either,” Nicole agreed.

“Thank you, but there’s more that I have to say about my responsibility. Mine and Jack’s. We’ve both been arrogant and demanding, and in the process we seem to have crippled our own children. Jonathan never learned responsibility, and Pam has no concept of honor. Jonathan wouldn’t do anything, which was his fatal flaw. On the other hand, there wasn’t anything that Pam wouldn’t do to have her way. Including trying to kill the person who had risked everything to save her. Our children should have been the center of our lives. But Jack and I have kept those positions for ourselves. That’s been our fatal flaw.”

Nicole interrupted. “I don’t think that you have to blame yourself for—”

Alexandra held up a silencing hand. “What has occurred to me over the past few weeks was that you might well have been the salvation of both of them. As a wife, you certainly gave Jonathan ambi-
tion and courage. And as a sister, I think you might have taught Pamela that success is never easy . . . never assured. Unfortunately I didn’t give you that opportunity.”

She swallowed hard, perhaps stifling a sob. Then she squared her shoulders, lest her apologies seem to be weakness. “I remember thinking that if it hadn’t been for you I would still have my family around me. But, in truth, it wouldn’t have been much of a family with two self-engrossed parents and two damaged children.”

“What can I do for you?” Nicole asked.

“Join Jack and me in a fiction. Let Jonathan’s death be an accident rather than Pam’s stupid attempt to destroy you.” She reached across and touched Nicole’s shoulder. “Let this be the result of a stray round rather than a well-aimed bullet.”

Nicole nodded. “All right.”

“You can topple the plea bargain with just a word. And you have every right to scream that you were supposed to be a murder victim. What I’m asking is that you keep your silence.”

“I understand,” she answered. “And I hope as much as you do that Pam makes a full recovery. ”

Alexandra stood and straightened her skirt. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She had opened the door when she turned with another thought. “Do you have any idea what you’ll do when you’re fully recovered?”

“Just what I was about to do. Go far away and start a new life.”

“You don’t have to leave. You’d be welcome here. At the main house. Or in Newport.”

Nicole shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. There have been too many hurts. I think we would always remind one another of our failings. It would be hard to forget all the bad moments. It’s really best that I leave.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Alexandra agreed. “But if you should ever change your mind, or ever need anything ...”

“I’ll be fine,” Nicole said.

Alexandra stepped into the doorway, but she couldn’t leave without saying it. “You know, for someone with such a trashy background, you certainly have many admirable qualities.”

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