The Opium Room (16 page)

“How’s it going, Fred. Hope you don’t mind my stopping by again.”

“No, always happy to see you, although I must say, I was quite surprised to see you on the other side of the door again so soon.”

“I know. I need to talk to you. Where can we sit down?”

“Follow me.” Frederic led Fox into the kitchen.

Fox sat in the corner nook by the floor to ceiling window looking out at the massive acreage. He remembered sitting there so many times with Erick and Karri growing up. Britta would cook grits, eggs, and bacon for breakfast almost every morning and serve them at the nook. Even though their mother was gone, and Roman was rarely home, those were good times. He felt like he actually had something of a family unit then, with Frederic and Britta being part of that unit.

Fred went to the large stainless steel fridge and opened it up. “Can I get you a drink, Foxworth?”

“Sweet tea?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Britta was the one who made the tea, and since it’s only me for the time being, I’ve had to do without. No one can make tea like Britta. I never even thought to try.”

Fox chuckled. Britta’s tea had been the best in the south. Another fond memory. “Just water then.”

Frederic joined Fox at the corner nook and sat across. Handed him a glass of water with a lemon wedge. “What’s on your mind?”

“My past. Roman’s past to be exact.”

Frederic’s eyes glazed over. His expression went blank.

“Don’t be afraid to talk to me, Fred. I can tell by the look on your face, this is a subject you’re apprehensive about.”

“Yes, you’re precise about that.”

“You’ve got to trust me. Your name will never come up. Okay?”

“Okay. For you, Foxworth, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Is Roman behind my mother’s death?”

“Well… she was quite ill after she delivered your brother and sister…” Fred looked out the window.

“So, you think she died solely as a result of that illness?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“I overheard Roman on the phone with his friend down at the Long Bay Pharmacy.”

“Bobby?” Fox knew right away whom Fred was referring to. It was one of Roman’s poker buddies. Fox had never met him in person, but Roman constantly sang his praises. How fitting that he worked at a Pharmacy and was close with Roman.

“Yes.”

“What did you hear?”

“It was the evening following Frances’s death. He told Bobby the concoction of medication he supplied him took. He didn’t come out and say whom it was for, but I don’t suppose Bobby questioned him, either.”

Fox ran his fingers through his hair, exhaled. “Good Lord.” He thought for a moment. “You know, it’s weird, I don’t remember you being around for a long time after Mother’s death. Did you take an extended leave because of what you’d learned?”

“I was in the hospital, Foxworth.”

“What? I… I don’t understand. Why?”

“You ever wonder how I got this limp?”

“Of course.”

“After we buried Frances, and after the visitor’s cleared out, Roman took a sledgehammer to my leg. Said if I ever blabbed what I knew, I’d do a hell of a lot more than limp. But if I kept my mouth shut, I was guaranteed employment with ample compensation until the day I die. He’d seen the expression on my face that evening after he hung up the phone with Bobby. I’m sure of it. How else would he know that I’d overheard?” Frederic took a deep breath, shook his head. “I’m so sorry, my boy. I should have come forward, but Frances was already dead.”

“Don’t apologize, Fred.” Fox couldn’t stand to see the hurt in Frederic’s eyes; the man had been like a father to him. Roman Kemp had hurt so many of the people he loved. Not anymore. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Fox made it halfway down the drive and put the car in park. Completely lost it. Must have cried for a half an hour, the agony of the pain his father caused his loved ones almost unbearable. He wanted to go right now and kill him with his bare hands. First he needed more answers.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Erickson,” Fox said when his brother answered the phone, “meet me in The Opium Room in fifteen minutes. And call Jill; have her meet us there too.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” Fox hung up and floored the gas of his electric powered car, wishing now he’d splurged on a hot rod.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

—Lea

After Lea had hung up with Fox earlier, she missed him like crazy, and thinking of the distance between them didn’t help. There was no way she was going to be able to stay this far away. Soon Galen would graduate from Clemson and move back home to be with their mother, and that would free Lea up to go live in Atlanta with Fox.

Lea worried that Fox was being hard on himself after learning what Roman had done to her father. She hoped he wasn’t at the bar drinking himself unconscious. She decided to pick up the phone to check on him. And to hear his gentle voice once again. When she couldn’t reach Fox on his cell phone, she rang Karri.

“Yo,” Karrigan said.

“Hey, it’s me, Lea.”

“Hey girlie. What’s happening?”

“I was trying to get a hold of Fox, but I couldn’t reach him on his cell phone.”

“Yeah, I’m manning the front desk. He called for a meeting in his room with Jill.”

In his room?
Oh my God. My worst fear has come true.

“… and Erickson and said it might be a while,” Lea heard Karrigan say. She hadn’t picked up the whole sentence.

Lea was still trying to comprehend Fox and Jill in his bedroom. How could he lie to her over and over about the nature of their relationship? She should have known not to trust him.

“Earth to Lea,” Karrigan said.

“Let me call you back,” was all Lea could get out before she was overcome by tears.

***

—Fox

When Fox answered his door, Erickson was standing there, Jill quickly trotting up behind him. Fox swung the door open wide and Erickson stepped inside. Jill gave him a long look and said, “What’s this all about?”

Fox said, “Just go inside. We need to sit down.”

Jill sat in one of the three armchairs in the small sitting area, Erickson in the other. Fox paced as he began to address them. “There’s no use beating around the bush about the nature of this meeting.” He stopped in front of Jill and pivoted to face her directly. “Erickson and I overhead your conversation with Roman recently… sister.”

In an instant, Jill’s complexion went from ruddy red to white. “You did?” she said softly. Her gaze darted between Fox and Erickson as she searched for their reaction. They both looked back at her with a blank stare, not giving away their emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s all right. I’ll start,” Fox said.

Jill nodded, swallowed.

“First of all, don’t let Roman deceive you. He loves you no more than he loves us. No more than he loved my mother—and she’s dead because of him. Furthermore, don’t let him yank you around about being his heir. He has nothing for you to inherit. I don’t know what he has you believing, but he lost all of his assets when his business fell apart. He filed for bankruptcy a few years ago. He doesn’t own this hotel or any part of it. It’s mine solely. I simply gave him an office and a chair to make him feel like the man he used to be. But he’s about to lose that too.”

“But, I don’t understand,” Jill said. “He’s been giving me money every month. How could he afford to do that if he has nothing?”

Fox shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past Roman to have money stored away in overseas accounts. He’s a crook. I always knew it deep down, but until I went in search of the truth, I never let myself believe it.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Jill said. “To hurt me? I only recently found out he was my father. I wanted to know him. I wanted to know you guys as my brothers and Karrigan as my sister. I don’t have any other siblings. I know what my mother did was a horrible thing, sleeping with a married man, but should I be the one to suffer for her misjudgments?”

“Whoa, hold it right there,” Fox said. “Erickson and I aren’t looking for revenge. We don’t want you to become another of Roman’s victims.”

Erickson leaned forward, put his hands on his knees. “We’re looking for answers. Who
is
your mother, Jill?”

Jill reached inside her purse. Pulled out her wallet and showed the front photograph to Fox and Erickson. Fox recognized the woman. It was the same redhead that was in the front seat of Roman’s Cadillac in the picture he’d found at the mansion.

“My mother worked a lot. Much of the time, I was left to fend for myself. When she was at home, she had a very arms–length kind of relationship with me. She was a cold person. The only reason I found out about Roman being my father is by questioning her about the man in this photograph. I knew his first name because it was written on the back of the picture, along with the date.”

“What date is it?” Fox asked.

“1990.”

The twins were born in ninety–one. Roman cheating around the time his wife was pregnant didn’t surprise him one bit. “So you asked your mother for his last name and she told you, or what?”

“No. She wouldn’t tell me a thing. Just that it was ancient history and to drop it. I didn’t ask her anything more after that. Mom didn’t like to be sassed.”

“Would it help if we went with you to speak with her?” Erickson asked.

“No, she passed away a few years ago. Cancer.”

“Sorry,” Erickson said. Fox echoed the sentiment.

“Thanks, but it wasn’t a hard loss. We were never close.”

“So, how’d you find out about Roman being your father if your mother wouldn’t tell you anything?” Erickson asked.

“I Googled ‘Roman Georgia.’ That searched returned plenty of hits, and every one was negative in some way. I read the report about the murder of your mother and the backstory of alleged affairs on both parties’ sides and somehow my mother just fit into that scenario too easily. I figured I had my father. As bad as he seemed, curiosity got the better of me, and I had to see for myself.”

Fox was impressed with Jill’s ability to piece together her background with little to go by. He felt guilty for thinking so negatively about her before. And as a product of two less–than–decent people, she seemed to have turned out halfway normal.

“What was her mother’s name?” Fox asked.

“Bobbie. Bobbie price.”

An unsettling feeling of weakness and nausea set in. Fox had only heard that name one other time. Bobby was the name of the pharmacist, supposed poker buddy of Roman. Could Bobby be Bobbie? If Jill’s mother was as cold as she described, had she conspired to kill his mother?

Fox peered up from the top of his glass at the flashing, curvy letters. Remedy. Whoever came up with that had gotten it right, because that’s just what he needed. He swallowed a mouthful of whisky and swished the remainder around the bottom of the glass. This was his fourth round, and indeed, it was the remedy to the turmoil in his life.

The new bartender he’d hired was female; at least she wouldn’t think to poison the customers so she could bed them. Would she? At this point, it was beyond him who in the world could be trusted. She looked innocent enough as she wiped down the bar, her long hair swaying back and forth.

Fox finished the last swig and tapped the glass on the bar. “Can I get another…” he snapped his fingers. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” He could barely remember his own at that point.

“Lael,” she answered, peering down at him. She wore tiny spectacles that framed her green eyes. Her skin was flawless and youthful, not a line of stress to be seen on her face. God, was she even old enough to drink, much less serve alcohol? Had he thoroughly reviewed her application before he’d hired her?

“Sir, I know this your hotel and all, but don’t you think four drinks is enough?” Lael asked politely, reaching for his glass.

She wrapped her fingers around it, and Fox held the glass from the other side, their fingers touching. Lael was beautiful. Her hair icy blonde, two feet past the collar of her starched white shirt. It was late. There was no one else in the bar but them. He should probably leave now. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have any more.” He released his grip.

Lael walked away with his glass. Wait a minute. Who the hell was she to tell him to stop at four? He’d come to get shit–faced, and that’s what he intended to do. “Wait. Give me one more.”

Standing at the sink, Lael turned, put her hand up to her ear. “Pardon, I didn’t hear.”

Fox curled up his index finger telling her to come closer.

Lael came up, stood just across the bar.

“I said. Give me. One. More.” Fox didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice.

“Oh, very well then,” Lael said, and pulled out a clean glass.

Fox watched her closely as she filled the glass with ice. Her lips were turned down a tiny bit on the sides. She was upset at the tone Fox had taken with her. Probably frightened. He noticed how she scanned the room to see if anyone else had come in, but it was still just the two of them. She should be afraid. He was Fox Kemp, son of Roman Kemp…and not one iota better. Deep down, probably a lot worse. Cold, vile blood ran through his veins and that alone made him capable of the same atrocities Roman had committed.

She set his fifth glass of whiskey down on the bar in front of him and walked away. Fox picked it up and noticed it was less than half full. That’s not what he asked for. He should fire her. Perspiration beaded along his hairline. He wished Lael would go. Wasn’t her shift over with yet?

He imagined himself pulling her by her hair, making her submit to his filthiest fantasizes against her will right on the bar. Why deny who he truly was? He couldn’t bring back his mother and Roman was all he had left. Why not
really
make the old man proud?

What was he thinking? He wobbled on the stool. Took his feet off the steel foot rail and planted his feet on the ground. He wanted to walk out of there, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand.
Lea
. Why had he let her leave? She was the one thing in his life that felt real. With her, it was easy to forget that he was Roman’s son.