Jeff Abbott - Distant Blood

Sass smiled. “Of course not, sugar. We're all just tickled pink over your recovery. I'm so proud of you I could bust.”

I pressed my lips closed. After all, I had no designs on Uncle Mutt's money; it was none of my business. But I would not want to see Bob Don's inheritance threatened. I'd tell him privately what I'd seen between Wendy and Mutt; I wouldn't give Sass the satisfaction. Dislike for her boiled up in me; how did Bob Don and she spring from the same gene pool?

Sass sat and crossed her legs demurely. “Now let's get back to the problem at hand-Wendy.”

“She's no doubt searching for a father figure,” Aubrey volunteered, “and what we need to do is replace her Electra-complex attraction to Uncle Mutt with-”

“Aubrey, hush,” Sass said, the voice sounding automatic. I could see the pattern: Aubrey speaks, Sass shushes. Not a bad system, if it worked.

I silently took a chair. I thought that Sass convened us all to talk about Lolly's death; but my great-aunt wasn't even being mentioned. I couldn't say, with clarity, that grief permeated this house. Oh, Gretchen looked devastated, Bob Don seemed dulled, but the others-it was almost as if Lolly's death were a minor incident of the weekend, as unfortunate as a broken fishing reel.

“Mother.” Aubrey didn't surrender easily. “All I'm saying is find Wendy someone else to target. Shift her sights off Uncle Mutt.”

“Wonderful, darling, are you volunteering?” Sass rolled her eyes. “I suppose not. Regardless, Wendy doesn't want Mutt as a man.” She examined her polished nails. “She wants his money.”

“I don't think she's the only one overly worried about money,” I blurted. I didn't have any undue affection for Wendy, but watching Aubrey and Sass connive over Mutt's cash made me queasy.

“Well, well, well.” Sass pursed her lips into a wicked grin. “Long-lost son finally shows his true colors. I wondered how long it'd be until you were sticking your hand in the till.”

Bob Don started to defend me, but I stepped willingly into the line of fire. I don't take abuse. “Listen. I don't give a crap about Uncle Mutt's money. I don't have any claim on it. I may be a blood kin but I certainly don't have the years and years of having a relationship with him that y'all do. But he's a grown man, and what he does is his business. Not yours. Doesn't he deserve a little happiness in the last months of his life? Are you worried about his heart or his wallet?”

The battle lines drawn, Sass clicked her nails against the silk-soft leather. “I don't need some recently discovered offspring of my brother's telling me what is and isn't my business. I don't care what Bob Don says, you're not family. You're a stranger.” She turned to her brother, who was staring at her slack-jawed.

“Oh, Sass, no,” Gretchen mewled.

“I wouldn't be very inclined to claim you as kin, ma'am,” I retorted, my anger getting the better of me. “You've been nothing but damned unpleasant since we got here. You've been snide to Gretchen, sharp to your brother, and downright hostile toward me.”

“Why should I be kind to you?” she demanded. “All you want is to take from me and mine. Why on earth has Bob Don not produced you until now? Why hasn't he shown you off until now? How marvelously convenient that he waits until Uncle Mutt's dying. How sweet of Bob Don to conjure you up out of thin air. A trump card, a nice, handsome young heir who can stake a claim to part of the family fortune.”

“Uncle Mutt knew about me,” I answered. Anger sharpened my voice into a whisper. “He knew about me for years. He told me so last night. So I'm not a trump card, I'm not a son of convenience for Bob Don.”

The shock on Sass's face went to her bones. Her mouth worked as she stared at me, rummaging for a snide reply.

“Sass.” Bob Don's voice was behind me. “You have crossed every line of decency. What the hell has possessed you? You apologize to my son immediately!”

“Fat chance.” She stood and took Aubrey's arm. “Let's go for a walk, son.” Mother and son exited, Aubrey looking bewildered, Sass not meeting my eyes.

“Son”-Bob Don's voice was low-”I am so, so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into Sass. She's obviously distraught over Aunt Lolly's death.”

“Distraught, my ass,” I muttered bluntly. “She's just mean as a water moccasin. Have you seen her shed one tear over Lolly?”

“That was unforgivable.” Gretchen seized my arm and turned me toward her. “How dare you speak to Sass that way?”

“Me?” I choked. “Get real, Gretchen! She's had it in for me since the moment I set foot here. I even overheard her and Aubrey talking about someone being a threat. I'm sure they meant me. All they care about is their precious inheritance!”

“That's not true!” Gretchen said. “Sass is one of my oldest, dearest friends!”

“Is she more important to you than your husband?” I yelled. “Good Lord, Gretchen. She's just accused Bob Don of using me, of being underhanded, of calculating how to get his hands on money she considers hers. And you're defending her?”

“I should have known we shouldn't have brought you around people of quality,” Gretchen said coldly. “You ruin everything you touch, Jordan. You turn people against each other. Just like you did Bob Don and me.”

“Don't you blame me for what the bottle did,” I snapped, and she slapped me, once, hard, before storming out of the room.

I rubbed her palm print, standing red against my cheek. Good God, what had just happened in this room? Bob Don stared at me as though I were a stranger.

Philip, who'd been quietly lounging in a corner chair, got up and grinned. “Well, Jordan, you've just had your first family squabble. Welcome to the clan.”

I watched as Philip shut the library doors behind him, that annoying grin still decorating his callow face. I wanted to punch it off. But my temper had already sparked enough fireworks today, and I had fences to mend. And perhaps, terrible questions to ask. I turned back to Bob Don. He stood at the library's door that faced onto the spacious porch, his arms crossed. I came up beside him and watched a small vessel unfurl its sails. The wind caught the boat hard and spray exploded from the prow. I saw a child, puffy in an orange life preserver, lean into the wind on the deck, and I imagined rapture on his face as the wet salt air kissed his cheeks. The boat, off on some voyage of joy, looked like a far more pleasant place to be than this house.

“I'm sorry I spoke to your sister that way. But let's be honest,” I said softly. “It's obvious neither Gretchen nor Sass can stand me.”

His blue eyes crinkled in pain. The past day I'd heard again and again how much his face resembled mine; now I wasn't so sure. I'd grown up being told that I was the spitting image of my mama, with her strawberry-blonde hair and her soft green eyes. But the Goertzes saw lots of Bob Don in me. I wanted to see it, too. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me or not. I watched him watch the sailboats ply Matagorda Bay. The boat with the merry child raced toward the open expanse of the Gulf. For a trice the only sounds were gulls cavorting and the ceaseless wind over the water.

“Sass has always had a sharp tongue,” he finally said, still gazing across the vista. “You couldn't know that. But I expect better from you. I don't expect you to go off half-cocked at the first prod someone gives you.”

“Prod?” I was stunned. “More like a shove toward the edge of the cliff, if you ask me.”

“You don't know Sass. You don't know anything about the hell's she's been through.” His voice tightened like wire on the verge of snapping. “Sass has had a few weeks to get used to the idea that you're my son. You've had over a year to adjust. Do you think it's easy for her?”