Sidney Sheldon - Mistress of the Game

“Robbie, Gabe needs you. It’s five minutes to showtime.”

Robbie looked at Lexi.

“Next time I talk to you, you’ll be Mrs. Gabe McGregor.”

“I know.” Her smile could have lit up the whole state of Maine. “I just hope I don’t wake up before I get to that part.”

The entire garden of Cedar Hill House, a vast sloping lawn that led from the house right down to the water, was covered with a white canvas tent. Inside, a hundred-foot “aisle” lined with thousands of white roses led to a dais-style altar.

Peter Templeton’s eyes filled with tears as he walked his daughter toward her husband. Frail and elderly, a shadow of the burly quarterback of his youth, at times Peter appeared so weak that he had to lean on Lexi for support. But there could be no mistaking his joy. After so much suffering, God had at last granted a happy ending to his beloved child.

“Do you take this woman…?”

“I do.”

“Do you take this man…in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do! I do.”

Lexi felt her shoulders lighten and her chest release. She gazed with love into Gabe’s eyes and saw her love reflected back. I will never be alone again.

At the gates to Cedar Hill House, a man produced his ID card.

“Special delivery for Ms. Templeton.”

“Okay. You can leave it here.”

“No can do. My employer gave me strict instructions to deliver it to Ms. Templeton personally. It contains a very important document.”

The security guard laughed.

“I don’t care if it’s the original stone tablet of the Ten Commandments. You ain’t going up there.”

The man hesitated.

“If I leave it with you, will you be sure Ms. Templeton gets it? To-day?”

“Sure, buddy. Like I said. Leave it with me.”

He waited till the man had gone, then looked at the package. It was a plain, stiff brown envelope from a lawyer’s office. Boring. Who wanted to look at that shit on their wedding day?

Behind the guard lay a huge mound of unopened wedding presents and cards, junk mostly, left by well-wishers and members of the public. Without thinking, he tossed the envelope onto the pile.

Gabe felt like he was being sucked into a cyclone. All around him people were clamoring to shake his hand and pat him on the back.

“Beautiful ceremony.”

“Lexi looked gorgeous.”

“Congratulations, man. Where’s the honeymoon?”

The vice president of the United States, unquestionably one of the most boring men on the planet, cornered Gabe for ten solid minutes after the speeches. Even after most of the guests began drifting home, Gabe found himself pressing the flesh with one dignitary after another, shaking hands till his wrist ached. Spotting Robbie in the crowd, he grabbed his arm as if it were a branch in a tsunami.

“Oh my God. This is insane. I haven’t drawn a breath in the last three hours.”

Robbie smiled. “It’s your wedding day. You’re popular.”

“Is this what it’s like for you, after a concert? Getting mobbed by fans?”

“Ha! I wish. Have you seen Lexi?”

Gabe sighed. “I was about to ask you the same question. We’ve only been married half a day and already she’s disappeared on me.”

“Try the study,” said Robbie. “She’s probably on the PC, checking Kruger-Brent’s stock price.”

It was a joke. But Gabe said: “You know what? That’s not such a bad idea.”

Lieutenant John Carey of the Maine State Police shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s April first and no one told me. Right?”

Detectives Michael Shaw and Antonio Sanchez shook their heads.

“You’re serious about this?”

Antonio Sanchez said, “Yes, sir. I mean, we only got the information last night. But it seems to check out.”

“Seems to?” Lieutenant Carey’s blood pressure was rising. “Do you know how powerful this woman is? And you come to me with seems to?”

The detectives were silent. Both of them were glad it wasn’t their call. Eventually the lieutenant spoke.

“Bring in the other guy. Kolepp. Let’s talk to him first.”

Detectives Shaw and Sanchez looked at each other nervously.

Lieutenant Carey groaned. “What?”

“We tried, sir. Last night. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“To South America, sir. We think. He emptied all his accounts.”

“Shit.” John Carey had been a cop for over thirty years. This sort of thing-billion-dollar frauds, tip-offs from beyond the grave-didn’t happen much in Maine. The contents of Eve Blackwell’s deathbed letter to the police were explosive. Explosive enough to blow up my career if I screw this up.

“Should we bring Ms. Templeton in, sir?”

Lieutenant Carey thought for a moment. “No, don’t do anything yet. Not till we’re certain. Let’s not forget, Eve Blackwell was as crazy as a June bug. This whole thing could be a hoax.”

He needed time to think. Perhaps this drama was a blessing in disguise? Perhaps, after three thankless decades on the force, the gods were offering him, John Carey, a final shot at fortune and glory?

If it was a hoax and he arrested Lexi Templeton on her wedding day, he’d be a laughingstock.

If it wasn’t, and he didn’t…

At least there was a silver lining in all of this. Carl Kolepp might be able to disappear. But Lexi Templeton had one of the most recognizable faces on the planet.

She’s not going anywhere.

Lexi sat in an upstairs bedroom at Cedar Hill House, thinking. All the noise and clamor downstairs was too much. She had to escape.

I did it! I married Gabe. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

She remembered childhood summers spent in this house. How her father’s grief for her mother had coated everything with a cloying patina of sadness, freezing the Dark Harbor estate in a sepia haze of loss. Except for Peter, who still lived there, rattling around the empty halls like a ghost, all the old generation were gone now: my mom, Uncle Keith, Aunt Eve. Even Max. Poor Max.

When Father dies, I’m going to strip this place bare and start again. Make it a happy home for Maxine. She’s going to have the childhood I never had.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I didn’t know anybody was in here.” Conchita, one of the housemaids, staggered in with a preposterously large pile of wedding presents and cards. “The gatehouse hasn’t room for any more.” She dumped the pile unceremoniously on the bed.

“These were all left at the gate?”

“Yes, ma’am. It seems a lot of people want to wish you well.”

Lexi sat down and began to unwrap the gifts. Before she knew it, hours had passed. The party downstairs was almost at an end. Some of the presents were expensive: Lalique vases, Tiffany lamps, first editions of Hemingway and Mark Twain. Others were simple, but given from the heart. Lexi was particularly touched by a pottery mug one of the local grade-school kids had made for her, engraved with her wedding date and her and Gabe’s initials intertwined. Sweet . By the time she came to the stiff brown envelope, she was starting to get tired. This’ll be the last one. I’ll open the rest later.

Pulling out the single sheet of paper she recognized her aunt Eve’s handwriting immediately. Thirty seconds later, Lexi knew she would never open her other wedding presents. Her world had changed forever.

Think. You don’t have much time.

What would Kate Blackwell have done?

“Sir, take a look at this.”

Detective Michael Shaw was pointing to numbers on his computer screen. Big numbers.

“These are transfers made from Cedar International to Carl Kolepp’s business account forty-eight hours before Kruger-Brent went under.”

“So?”