Nora Roberts - Tribute

“Her grandmother killed herself. And Hennessy is responsible for what happened at the farm. I’m surprised at you, Ford. And disappointed. Now I’m going back inside. I don’t want to hear any more about this.”

“I always respected you, and I love Brian.” It might have been the tone, very cool, very quiet, that had Tom stopping. “That’s why I’m standing here with you. That’s why I’m talking to you before I go to the police with this.”

“With what? With a stack of unsigned letters written more than thirty years ago and a note I scribbled this afternoon?”

“I didn’t say they were unsigned.” Ford turned away.

“Wait. Now wait.” With the first hint of panic, Tom gripped his shoulder. “This isn’t a matter for the police, Ford. It won’t do anyone any good for this to come out. Do you need me to admit the affair? All right, all right. I was mesmerized by her, and I betrayed my wife. I’m not the first man to slip. I’m not proud of it. And I ended it; I ended it before you were born, for God’s sake. When I came to my senses, when I realized what I was doing, I ended it. Why would you punish me, hurt and embarrass Brian and Cathy, over a mistake I made when I was younger than you are now?”

“You tried to get them back, and put a man in the hospital.”

“I panicked.” He held up his hands. “I only wanted to find the letters and destroy them. I panicked when I heard him coming in. There was no way for me to get out. I never meant to hit him that hard. It was instinct, just instinct. My God, I thought I’d killed him.”

“So you shoved the bike on top of him, what, to be sure of it?”

“I tell you, I was in shock. I thought he was dead, what else could I do? I could only think it had to look like an accident. He’s fine now. He’s all right now,” Tom insisted in a tone of quiet reason. “What point is there in making an issue out of any of it?”

Ford could only stare. This man he’d respected, even loved, one he’d thought of all his life as a kind of second father, was shifting in front of his eyes. “He nearly died, Tom. He could have died. And you did that for what, to save your reputation over a slip ? To cover up something you thought was already buried?”

“I did it to spare my family.”

“Really? What else have you done to ‘spare your family’? Let’s go back. Let’s go all the way back. Did you kill Janet Hardy?”

MILDLY IRRITATED by the interruption, Cilla went to the door, peeked through the sidelight. Irritation turned to puzzlement as she opened it for Cathy.

“It’s okay, Spock. See?”

He stopped quivering to prance forward and bump Cathy’s legs in greeting.

“I’m so sorry. Not five minutes after Penny dropped me off, I realized I’d left my rings at your place.” Cathy pressed her ringless hand to her breast. “I always take them off at the kitchen sink. At least I hope I did. God, if I lost them… No they’re there. I’m just a little frantic.”

“I’d be, too. I’m sure they’re there. We’ll go get them right now.”

“Thank you. Cilla, I feel so stupid. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost them.”

“Just let me grab my keys.” She snagged them off the little table by the door. “Come on, Spock, let’s take a walk.”

The walk word had him shooting through the door to dance on the veranda.

“They’ll be there,” Cathy reassured herself. “I’m sure they’ll be right there. I lost my wedding and engagement rings down the drain years ago. I’d lost weight, hadn’t had them resized. I was terrified until Buddy-whom I called in hysterics-took the pipes apart and found them. So I always take them off before I shower or do dishes, or… I’m babbling.”

They crossed the road in the moonlight. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re right where you left them.”

“Of course they are.” But the strain in her voice had Spock making concerned whines. “I put them in a little glass-I remember-at your sink. If someone didn’t see them in there, and-”

“We’ll find them.” Cilla put a hand on Cathy’s trembling arm.

“You must think I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t. I’ve only had my ring for a day, and I’d be a basket case if I thought I’d lost it.” She unlocked the door.

“I’m just going to-” Cathy made a dash for the kitchen, and, hopeful, Spock raced behind her.

Cilla closed the door, plugged in the security code to offset the alarm, then followed.

Cathy stood in the kitchen, tears streaming down her cheeks with Spock rubbing against her legs in comfort. “Right where I left them. Right by the sink. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’s okay.” Moving fast, Cilla got an old stool out of the utility room. “Just sit down a minute.”

“God, thank you. Now I do feel like an idiot. They’re insured, I know, but-”

“It’s not about insurance.”

“No, it’s not. Look at me. I’m a mess.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse to dry her cheeks. “Cilla, could I have a glass of that?” She gestured to the bottle of wine on the counter. “And an aspirin.”

“Sure. Aspirin’s upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

When she came back, Cathy sat at the counter, her head propped in her hand, and two glasses of wine poured. “I know I’m taking up some of that quiet time you were after, but I just need a few minutes to calm down.”

“It’s no problem, Cathy.” Cilla set down the aspirin.

“To wedding rings-engagement rings-and all they represent.” Cathy lifted her glass, held it expectantly, then tapped it to Cilla’s when Cilla picked hers up.

“And I hope that’s the last time you find me knocking hysterically on your door.”

“I thought you held it together pretty well. They’re beautiful. I’ve admired them before.”

“Tom wanted to buy me a new wedding ring for our twenty-fifth. I wouldn’t have it.” Her eyes sparkled as she sipped. “So he gave me a diamond bracelet instead. I’ve got a weakness for diamonds. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you wear any, other than your spanking-new ring. Your grandmother had some fabulous jewelry.”

“My mother has it. And the kind of work I do?” Cilla shrugged, drank a little more wine. “Doesn’t lend to glitters.”

“You don’t need them with your looks. Neither did she. It’s us lesser mortals who require the enhancements. Of course, beauty fades if you live long enough. Hers didn’t. She didn’t.”

“I was just looking through some old photographs and thinking…” Cilla pressed a hand to her temple. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was so tired. The wine must’ve topped it off.”

“You’ll need to drink the rest of that. And one more, I think, to finish the job.”

“I’d better not. I’m sorry, Cathy, but I feel a little off. I need to-”

“Finish your wine.” Cathy opened her purse, drew out a small revolver. “I insist,” she said as Spock began to grumble.

“JANET COMMITTED SUICIDE. I’ve regretted whatever part I might have played in that for more than thirty years.”

“She was pregnant.”

“She claimed…” Something in Ford’s eyes had Tom pausing, nodding. “Yes. I didn’t believe her, not until we spoke face-to-face. After, after she died, the day she died, in fact, I went to my father. Confessed everything. He was furious with me. He had no tolerance for mistakes, not when they affected the family name. He handled it. We never spoke of it again. I assume he paid off the medical examiner to omit the pregnancy.”

And his political career, Ford thought, had gone down the toilet.

“It was the only thing to do, Ford. Imagine what the public would’ve done to her if it had come out? Imagine what might have become of my family if I was named the father?”