Deep Waters (32 page)

“What is this garbage? An updated version of the Ghost of Christmas Past? Someone told me that you practice some bizarre martial arts philosophy crap. Whatever it is, don't try to foist it off on me. I may be suicidal, but I'm not crazy.”

“Your son came to see me yesterday.” Elias circled the wingback chair so that he could see Garrick's face.

He was not prepared for the sight of the pale, gaunt features and lifeless eyes. It was nearly noon, but Garrick was dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe. He had a pair of slippers on his feet. The coffee on the table beside him was untouched.

“Justin went to see you?” Garrick's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. He stared past Elias into the garden. “What the hell did he want?”

“Revenge.”

Garrick scowled. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Take a good look at me, Keyworth. Justin is responsible for this black eye.”

Garrick raised his head with a surprised, jerky
movement and stared at Elias's face. “Are you trying to tell me that Justin took a swing at you?”

“Several swings. Would have flattened me if help hadn't arrived.”

“Why?” Garrick looked genuinely baffled.

“Can't you guess? He blames me for your attempt at suicide. Seems to think I'm responsible. Sound familiar, Keyworth? Do you see the pattern of the ripples in the water here?”

Garrick's mouth worked. “I don't understand.”

“Don't you?” Elias turned away from Garrick's haunted gaze.

He went to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the garden and the gray surface of the lake. In the distance, the towers that marked the Seattle skyline were dark shadows in the mist. Charity was in one of those high-rise buildings at this very moment. He wished she were here, instead. She would have known how to handle this scene. He knew he was floundering badly.

“Goddamn it, say what you came to say, Winters.”

“It's no secret that you and your son don't get along very well, Keyworth. But when the chips were down, Justin proved that blood is still thicker than water. He came to see me because he blamed me for what happened to you.”

“That's hard to believe. Justin doesn't give a damn about me. He wants me out of the way.”

Elias absently fingered his bruised face. “That's not the impression I got.”

“You don't know anything about Justin.”

“You're wrong.” Elias turned slowly. “I know a great deal about him. I made a thorough study of him as well as everyone else connected to you and your organization before I put my plans together. I can tell you why your wife left you, and about the affair your
Pacific operations officer had with his secretary, and how your Singapore account rep got lured away by the competition.”

“I believe you.” Garrick rested his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. “Your plans were all so exquisitely detailed. You missed your calling, Winters. You should have gone into politics or worked at the Pentagon. I've never seen such a strategist.”

“Are you interested in what I learned about Justin?”

“I'm more interested in why you want to tell me anything at all about him. Is this another act in your grand scheme of vengeance? If so, you can save yourself the effort. You can't do any damage to my relationship with Justin. I lost him years ago.”

“You may be able to get him back.”

“Stop talking about Justin.” Garrick's lashes lifted to reveal the first trace of real emotion. “Leave him out of this.”

“He's a part of it.”

“No, he's not, by God.” Rage gathered in Garrick's face. “He had nothing to do with what happened out on Nihili. He wasn't even born. Do whatever you think you must to me, you cold-blooded, manipulative bastard, but don't touch Justin. So help me, if you—”

“Justin is safe from me. But he's not safe from you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You're the one who has the power to hurt him. Hell, if you're not real careful, he could turn out just like me. He could become the kind of cold-blooded, manipulative bastard who can spend years plotting revenge. Is that what you want for him?”

“That's a stupid queston,” Garrick roared.

“There's another possibility. Maybe he'll turn out
like you, instead, Keyworth. A robot of a man who can sacrifice his family and everything else important in life because he can't let himself get beyond the past.”

Garrick pushed himself halfway out of the chair. His arms trembled. His eyes, which had been dead a few minutes earlier, burned with fury. “What is going on here? Why do you keep talking about my son?”

Elias steadied himself. He had known this would cost him. “If you want to save Justin, take some advice. Don't do to him what my parents did to me. Don't abandon him.”

Garrick's mouth worked. It took him several attempts before he could speak. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You've ignored your son for years because the only thing you cared about was fighting your own private demons. Both of my parents did the same thing to me. My mother committed suicide. My father was so busy wrestling with his own devils that he never had a lot of time for me. And then he got into the plane that you had sabotaged, knowing that it was in bad shape, and he never came back.”

“I told you, I never meant for Austin Winters to die.”

“Yeah, well, that's the way it goes. The two of you played hardball out there in the islands, and one of you died. A kid got left without his father. Someone else had to step in and finish raising him. And now you're trying to kill yourself. If you succeed, your son is going to be left without a father, too. You see anything screwy with this picture?”

“Justin doesn't need me. He despises me. Besides, he's not a kid. He's twenty-five years old.”

“The young man who gave me this black eye needs you very badly. If you don't make things right between
the two of you, I can guarantee that he'll turn out to be just like me or you. Hell of a legacy to leave your only son, isn't it?”

Elias did not wait for a response. He knew he had made a hash of things, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. He moved past Garrick Keyworth, went down the sad, echoing hall, and walked out into the gray mist.

A sleek, dark green Porsche pulled into the long curving drive and slammed to a halt. Justin Keyworth jumped out.

“What the hell are you doing here, Winters?”

“You got here fast.” Elias opened the door of Charity's car. “Did the housekeeper call you?”

Justin's hands clenched. “I said, what are you doing here, damn it?”

“I'm not sure.” Elias got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “Ever notice how difficult it is to identify the exact place in the river where the past and the future meet?”

Justin frowned, clearly baffled. “Someone told me that you were strange, Winters. I didn't believe him. But now I'm starting to wonder.”

“You and me both.” Elias closed the door.

He drove off down the long drive, away from the gloomy house on the lake. He needed to find Charity.

The neat, efficient-looking young man seated behind the wide desk surged to his feet in wide-eyed alarm as Charity breezed past him.

“Wait, you can't go in there. I just told you, Ms. Truitt is in conference.”

“You can't fool me.” Charity gave the secretary a cheerful wave as she went to the closed door of the inner office. “I know Meredith instructs her staff to say she's in conference whenever she wants to be
alone for a while. Don't worry, if she gets annoyed, I'll handle her. I am not without influence around here.”

“Please, you don't understand—”

Charity smiled and twisted the knob. “Hey, Meredith,” she sang out as she pushed open the door. “The prodigal sister has returned. Want to do lunch?”

There was a flurry of movement near the desk. Two entwined figures attempted to disengage in a hurry.

“Sanderson, I thought I told you I didn't want to be interrupted.” Meredith broke free from what had obviously been an extremely passionate kiss and glared at Charity. She had to look past the very broad shoulder of a blond Viking in order to see who had barged into her office.
“Charity.”

Charity came to an abrupt halt. She blinked at the sight of her stepsister in the arms of Brett Loftus. “Oops.”

“What the hell?” Brett slowly released Meredith and turned. His handsome features were set in an annoyed frown. Then he saw Charity. A flush darkened his fair skin. He ran a hand through his sun-colored hair and adjusted his expensive silk tie. “Uh, hello, Charity. This is a surprise.”

“Guess this will teach me not to ignore your secretary, Meredith.” Charity started to back out of the office. “Sorry. Just happened to be in town. Thought I'd see if you'd like to grab a bite to eat.”

Meredith glanced at Brett, who raised one brow and shrugged a massive shoulder. Charity was sure she saw a silent message pass between the two.

Meredith turned resolutely back to Charity. “Lunch sounds great. Let's go to my club. I've got something important to tell you.”

“What can I say?” Meredith gazed at Charity across the expanse of a tablecloth that was whiter than a
man's new dress shirt. “You were right last summer when you told me that if I thought Brett was so terrific, I should marry him myself. We're going to announce our engagement in a couple of weeks.”

“Congratulations.” Charity dipped a forkfull of plump Dungeness crab cake into a bit of hot wasabi paste. “Maybe I'm psychic.”

She studied her stepsister as the wasabi cleared her sinuses. Meredith looked good, she thought. Better than good. She looked radiant. The corporate world and Brett Loftus obviously suited her.

Meredith's strawberry-blond hair was swept back and away from her dramatically attractive face, her black and tan jacket and pencil-slim skirt were exactly suited to her role as a corporate executive. Her specially blended lipstick exactly matched the color of her nails. She looked very much at home here in the confines of one of the most expensive business clubs in the city.

The only factor that marred the impression of a successful, accomplished businesswoman was the ill-concealed anxiety in Meredith's light green eyes.

It was about ten minutes after one o'clock. The velvet-lined booths that circled the dining room were filled with men and women dressed in business attire. The muted hum of muffled voices and the soft
ting
of silver against china provided privacy for the high-stakes conversations taking place.

The scene brought back memories. Charity thought of the luncheons she had once conducted in this very room. There had been a time, not so very long ago, when the maître d' had called her by name, and the headwaiter had known her tastes so well that she had not even had to look at the menu. She did not miss those days one little bit, she decided.

Meredith frowned. “Charity, I know the news about my relationship with Brett has come as a shock.”

“Not really.”

“I didn't want you to find out this way. I wanted to be able to tell you—” Meredith broke off, blinking. “What do you mean, not really? You knew about me and Brett? That's impossible. We've been very discreet. How could you possibly know about us?”

“I didn't say I knew about your relationship. I just said it didn't come as a shock.”

Meredith watched her uneasily. “Are you sure you're all right with this? I mean, it was only a year ago that you were engaged to Brett.”

“Not quite.”

Meredith flushed. “Okay, you were almost engaged to him. You know what I mean. The two of you had a relationship. You were considering marriage, for God's sake.”

“It would never have worked. I knew it long before the engagement party, and I think Brett did, too. I don't know why one of us didn't call it off sooner.”

Meredith glanced briefly down at the grilled salmon on her plate. “Brett told me he had been growing increasingly concerned but that he wasn't sure what was wrong. He thought perhaps the two of you both needed some more time to get to know each other. He assumed the engagement would give you that time.”

“Brett is obviously too much of a gentleman to tell you the entire truth,” Charity said dryly. “He and I rushed the whole thing through because we were both reacting to the business factors involved in the situation.”

“I know everyone saw both the marriage and the merger as a good move for both firms.”

“Truitt and Loftus are a natural match. And Brett and I both felt the pressure to do what was best for
our families and our companies. We liked each other, but neither of us wanted to admit that business was the motivating force behind our decision to get engaged.”

“Thank goodness you came to your senses at the last minute.”

Charity raised her brows. “You mean, thank goodness I had my little breakdown? Let's be honest. I didn't just come to my senses. I went bonkers.”

“You didn't have a breakdown.” Meredith glowered. “You just needed to get out from under all the pressure. Something inside you made the decision for you.”

“Call it whatever you want.” Charity sighed. “I suddenly realized that night that I couldn't go through with it. I panicked.”

“You had every right to panic. Davis and I had several long talks after you left for Whispering Waters Cove.”

“You did?”

“We realize now what it must have been like for you, trying to hold the company together after Mom and Dad were killed. Things were in such chaos. You had so many people depending on you. Relatives, employees, suppliers, customers. And you never even liked the business in the first place. You only went into it to please Dad.”

“It was my own fault that I got into that situation with Brett. I should have turned things over to you and Davis much sooner.”