Water from Stone - a Novel (34 page)

“She may lose her job! She’s a lady who’s worked very hard against some pretty big odds to get where she is, and she’s doing a world of good out there. Now your damn ‘strategy’ is casting doubts about her integrity. Don’t you get it?”

“No, don’t you get it?” Caroline shoots back. “Jack lost his daughter and he’s just trying to get her back.”

“Caroline, you’re going to retract that,” Jack tells her. “Now.”

“We’ll talk about it, Jack. Later.”

“No, I mean it. Now.”

“I really think we should talk about this before you make any decisions.”

“I don’t need to talk about it. I asked you and Marion to get my daughter back, not to hurt innocent people.”

“Dammit, Jack, that’s how the law works.”

“No it’s not. It’s evil,” Amanda says.

“It’s necessary.”

“Is it? Or is it just revenge because she slept with Jack?”

“Amanda,” Jack winces. “Please.”

Caroline pulls herself up to her full height. “This has nothing to do with that,” she spits out.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus.” Jack’s head is pounding and he now regrets being up front with Caroline about his night with Mar. Full disclosure. As his attorney, he felt it was only fair that she have all the facts. She’d quit right then and there. And then walked out on him. The next day, however, she’d apologized and asked to represent him. He massages his temples. Sy had been right, you don’t mix personal with business.

“What about how you’ve been harassing Mar?”

“We’re not harassing her.”

“No? That woman is so inundated with your legal crap that she can’t breathe. You’ve demanded all her bank records, her insurance records, her gallery records. You’ve asked for her husband’s death certificate, actually insinuated that it was too convenient that she wasn’t diving with him the day he was attacked, as if she’d paid off a shark. And what about Max Turner’s aunt? You dug her up, and now you’re asking the courts to investigate Mar for child slavery! You don’t call that harassment?”

“Child slavery?” Jack is afraid to ask, but can’t help himself.

“Yes, apparently Mar tried to pay off the aunt to leave Max with her.”

“That’s not slavery!”

“Well, technically,” Caroline says, “it’s child trafficking. She tried to buy another human being.”

“She tried to give that little boy a good home! That woman is a drug addict! She was just using him to get his state aid payments.”

“You’re investigating Mar for child trafficking?” Jack can’t quite get his mind around it.

“No, Jack, technically, you are,” Amanda purses her lips. “Jack, technically, you’re hurting a lot of people out there.”

“I didn’t realize…”

“I’ve got to say, I’m relieved about that, at least.”

Jack’s head is in his hands. He can’t see how this can get any worse. “Anything else?”

“Sy.”

He looks up. Caroline turns away. “What about Sy?”

“He’s been asked to explain how he bungled the investigation.”

“What? Sy?”

“Yes, Sy. Apparently, you’re making a case that if he had followed up a year earlier, when he first received that postcard, things wouldn’t have progressed so far and Lizzie wouldn’t be so attached to Mar. Basically, you’re just a big victim, blah blah blah and the courts should feel sorry for you. Sorry enough to take Lizzie away from the only mother she’s ever known.”

Jack’s head is back in his hands. No wonder Sy won’t return his calls. “Is there anyone else who should hate me?” he asks, his voice muffled.

“Lizzie.”

“What have I done to her?”

“It’s not what you’ve done, Jack, it’s what you’re about to do. Mar is the only parent she’s ever known. Taking her away would be incredibly traumatic for her.”

“Your saying that you think Mia, Lizzie, should stay with that woman?” the shock is apparent in Caroline’s voice. “You’d have Jack give away his own daughter?”

“Yes, I think she should stay where she is. But I do think Jack should work out some sort of joint custody. Lizzie deserves both her parents and Mar is willing to work out visitation schedules, both here and in Colorado.”

“Willing! What is it with you people?”

“What it is, Caroline, is that ‘we people’ care about Lizzie. We’re convinced she’s having a great upbringing, and we’d be very happy to have Mar be a part of our family.”

“Oh, god, please. How dramatic.”

“Caroline…”

“No, Jack, I won’t be quiet. This has been going on too long. It’s sick! Mia is your daughter. Yours, Jack! This is just too ludicrous to listen to.”

“Jack, listen to Amanda,” Stan urges.

“Jack,” Amanda pleads. “Please, look at it. What kind of life would she have here? Yes, you’d give her things, but you can do that anyway. You’d be gone all day. She’d be raised by a nanny. You’ve seen her. You’ve seen what kind of mother Mar is.”

“She takes her to day care. That’s not very hands on,” Caroline sniffs.

Amanda shakes her head. “That’s really neither here nor there. What’s important is that if you bring her here, she’s going to be ripped away from all she’s ever known. Do you know what that can do to a child that age?”

“We have a very good psychiatrist waiting to deal with her as soon as she arrives.”

Amanda ignores her and continues to focus on Jack. “She doesn’t need a psychiatrist, Jack. Or a nanny. Or a driver. Or maids or doormen or anyone. She needs her mother and, to her, Mar is her mother. Jack?”

He finally lifts his head from his hands. His eyes are sad. “I know, Amanda, I hear you.”

Stan walks over and puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jack, that things have gotten to this. I’m sure it’s not what any of us would have wanted. Especially Lindsey. But, it’s what we’ve got to deal with. Do what’s right, son.”

Jack simply nods to let Stan know he’s heard, and continues to massage his temples.

“Darling? Amanda? Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes I am.” She moves to Jack and kisses the top of his head. “Please think about it, Jack.”

“I will, Amanda. Thank you.”

“Caroline.” Amanda nods to her and then sweeps out the door in front of her husband.

From the door, Stan says, “Caroline, I’ve been around quite a lot and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this, oftentimes, being legally right doesn’t mean you are right. I’d urge you to think about that. Goodbye.”

Caroline immediately turns on him, “Jack…”

He holds up a hand. “No, Caroline. Not now. Please, not now.” The headache is crippling. “Please get some aspirin from Elena and just let me be for a little bit. Please?”

“I’m doing this for you, Jack,” Caroline pauses in the doorway. “I’m trying to bring your daughter home for you.”

“I know.” The bitch of it is, as an attorney, she is doing the right thing, going for the jugular. Christ, all he wants, all he and Lindsey had ever wanted, was a family. Why, when it looked like he’d finally get his daughter back, is everything going to shit?

Ninety-Five

Mar.

Mar glances at the caller ID and picks up the phone, “Yes, Fred?” she asks the guard posted at her front door.

“Mar, I think you’d better come out here.”

“Is something wrong?” She cocks her head and listens. Sure enough, the press camped out on her front lawn are raising a ruckus again.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

Mar closes her eyes. The visit from the Sonnenheims had about wiped her out. She had smiled bravely through it and tried to excite a withdrawn Lizzie about the prospect of having a new set of grandparents but, really, it had cut her already bleeding heart. The way things are going, very soon the Sonnenheims will have more access to her daughter than she will. “Please don’t tell me it’s Jack’s parents.”

“No, ma’am, he says he’s his son.”

Ninety-Six

Mar.

“I’ll talk to you later, Dee,” Mar urges Diane out the door.

“You sure?”Diane cranes her neck to see around Mar to the boy who claims to be Jack Westfield’s son.

“I’m sure. I’m fine. Just go be with Lizzie, OK? I’m fine.” She all but shoves Diane out the door and shuts it firmly behind her. “Now, are you sure you wouldn’t like something to eat or to drink?” she asks DeJon.

“No, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“I can make you a sandwich.”

“I had something on the plane,” he tells her rug.

Somehow, Mar sincerely doubts that, but she figures Diane will be back in about five minutes anyway, carrying a tray of food, anything to get another look at the boy. Mar sighs and sits down. “OK, so tell me what’s going on.”

“There sure are a lot of reporters out there.”

Mar rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“Jack’s gonna kill me.”

She doesn’t know Jack well enough to comment on that one, but she is pretty sure he’ll be extremely pissed when the photos of DeJon on her doorstep hit the airways. “So, he doesn’t know you’re here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Call me Mar, OK? And I’ll call you DeJon. That is your name, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mar.”

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing all the way out here? You’re what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Isn’t that a bit young to be flying by yourself?”

DeJon bites back a grin. “I’m fifteen,” he corrects her. “Well, almost.”

“Holy crap! Wow. You look a lot older than that. Jack’s gonna have a conniption.”

“He don’t care.”

Aha! So there is trouble between Jack and his adopted son. Mar is sorry for the boy, but figures Jack Westfield deserves any grief that comes his way. Alright, maybe not. But still, she is pissed off about the trashing she is getting in the press. She tucks her legs under her and drops her chin into her hand, her eyes focused on DeJon. “I’m sure that’s not true,” she tells him.

“All he cares about is getting back your little girl.”

Mar swallows hard. She doesn’t need the reminder. “Listen, DeJon, he adopted you, what? Five months ago? Six?”

“Six.”

“I’m sure it’s because he loves you very much.”

“Nah. All he cares about is Lizzie.”

“I’m sure it seems that way, with all that’s going on.”

“It’s all he talks about.”

“Is that why you’re here? You’re mad at him?”

“Yeah, I’m mad at him, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why?”

DeJon squares his shoulders and looks Mar in the eye. “I came to ask you to let Jack have Lizzie.”

Mar’s face crumples as her eyes fill with tears. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.”

“Naw, ma’am, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you any more than what’s already been done.”

“Wow.” Mar’s head is spinning. Already things are strange and now they’ve slipped way past the falling-down-the-rabbit-hole kind of unreal. It occurs to her that she probably should have called Stacey before letting DeJon into her home. God knows how this is going to play out.

“I know that’s not what you want to hear, but maybe you could think about it?”

Mar shakes her head. “I’m sorry, DeJon, but Lizzie’s my daughter. You don’t just give your kids away.” As soon as it is out of her mouth, Mar realizes her mistake. Wasn’t it
People
magazine that had said that is exactly what his mother had done? “Shit. I’m sorry,” she says when his shoulders drop.

DeJon shakes his head. “I just thought, well, maybe, I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

Mar moves over and sits next to him on the sofa. Physically, he is larger than she is, but the little boy in him is crying out loud and clear. She takes his hand and asks gently, “What did you think?”

“I thought maybe I could stay here and Jack could have Lizzie.”

Ninety-Seven

Jack.

Jack snatches up the phone. The police have come and gone, saying he can’t file a missing person report until twenty-four hours have passed They didn’t even want to put out an Amber alert because there was no reason to believe DeJon hadn’t gone to a friend’s house and forgotten to tell him. “This is Jack,” he barks.

“Jack? It’s Mar.”

“Mar?”

“Mar Delgado.”

Jack shakes his head. For months he’d half hoped to hear from her. Now, though, he has to find DeJon. “I know who you are, Mar, but now isn’t a good time. I’m waiting for an important call.”

“DeJon’s here,” she says softly.

“What?”

“He’s here. He’s fine.”

Jack drops onto the sofa, his legs unable to support him. He waves a hand at Caroline, who is trying to interrupt him to find out what is happening. “What’s he doing there?”

Mar sighs. “It’s a long story,” she says.

Ninety-Eight

Mar.

Mar wakes with a start to the sound of Lizzie’s giggles. For a moment, she imagines that it has all been a horrible nightmare, that everything is normal. Shortly, however, she hears a deeper laugh and remembers. DeJon.

“So, you’ve met,” Mar can’t help smiling. This is the first time she’s heard Lizzie laughing in months.

“Hi, Mommy, he’s my brother.”

DeJon, who is lying on the floor playing Chutes & Ladders with Lizzie, scrambles up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It kind of came out.”

Mar sighs. It is all coming out, all coming undone. “That’s OK. Of course she should know. You’re pretty good with her.”

“She’s great.”

“No, I mean it. Lately she’s been pretty shy.”

“Really?” DeJon smiles.

Poor kid
, Mar thinks,
this is tearing everybody up
. “Really,” she says firmly. “Now, Miss Lizzie, why don’t you take your brother downstairs for some breakfast? I think I hear Grandpa down there and I’m sure I smell pancakes.”

“I wanna play with him.”

“Him’s gonna be here for awhile, Missy, and I’m sure he’s pretty hungry, so go on down and eat and you can play some more after.”

Lizzie grabs DeJon’s hand and begins tugging him toward the door. As he comes abreast of her, he asks Mar, “Did you talk with Jack?”

“Yes and he’s heading out here today.”

“He’s gonna hate me.”

Even though he is taller than her by several inches, Mar has to lift his chin to bring his eyes up to hers. “Listen to me, DeJon. Jack loves you. He was frantic when I called him last night and the only thing he cares about right now is that you’re safe.”