Holdin' On for a Hero (117 page)

He shook his head as if in embarrassment and turned to face Richard. “I left the next morning early, waking her to tell her to lock up when she left. She must have managed to get into the safe.”

“How?” Richard asked.

“How the hell should I know?” Mark shot back, playing the role of the injured party to the hilt. “But you can take it to the bank that I’ll find out. And I’ll deal with it.”

“Do it fast,” Richard commanded. “The next time the authorities show up I want to have proof beyond all doubt that I had nothing to do with the murder.”

Mark smiled inwardly. Richard had obviously bought the quickly concocted tale. He cut a look at Helen and her eyes were sharp enough to cut glass. “You had an affair with the maid?” Her tone matched the sharpness of her eyes.

Mark couldn’t meet her eyes. He’d explain the lie to her later, in private. Right now he didn’t have much time. “It was a mistake. If you’ll both excuse me, I’ll take my leave. I have a lot to do.”

Richard nodded and watched him leave. The moment they were alone, Helen lit into him. “Are you going to be charged with the murder?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we can’t run the risk that you might. You need to make provisions immediately. If there’s any chance that you’ll be incarcerated—any chance— then you have to make sure it doesn’t impact anything here on the estate.”

“In other words make sure it doesn’t inconvenience you.”

“Well I see no reason that my lifestyle should be compromised because of your mistakes.”

Richard bolted to his feet, towering over her. “My mistakes? My darling, the most monumental mistake of my life is sitting right in front of me. Don’t presume to think for a moment that if I should by some remote possibility take a fall, I won’t make sure that you take the plunge with me.”

Helen rose in one fluid move, all grace and ice. “Hear me and hear me well, Richard Weston. You may view me as a mistake, but it’s a mistake I assure you I’ll make you pay for as long as there is breath in your body. And just so we are clear, I could care less if you are locked away for the rest of your life, but I will not be tarnished. You may have defenses in place to safeguard yourself, but don’t think for an instant that I don’t as well. Should you try to implicate me in any way, I’ll make sure enough dirt hits the media to ruin you forever. And that, my darling, you can take to the bank.”

With that she marched from the room, her head high. Richard watched her go then sat down, his brow furrowed in thought.

Seated before the monitor, Nikki, Max and Simon watched the exchange in silence. When there was no one but Richard left sitting alone in the room, Nikki turned to look at Max. “Do you believe that? About Deborah, I mean?”

Not for an instant,
his mental reply was immediate.

“He doesn’t believe it,” she said to Simon. “And honestly, neither do I. Surely Mr. Robinson isn’t careless enough to keep sensitive information where just anyone could get their hands on it.”

“He’s not,” Simon said. “He’s covering.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s an ambitious man.”

“So what now?” she asked.

“Now we try and find out who did kill Abernathy,” Simon answered, and looked at Max. “We need to know everything Mark Robinson is hiding. Do you think you and Nikki’s friend, Mr. Marshall, can handle that?”

Max nodded.

“Then contact Mr. Marshall. Assure him that he will be under no danger of legal repercussions, and that if this task is successfully accomplished, a position with Weston is his for the taking. He can name his price.”

Max nodded again and Nikki gaped in surprise until Max nudged her.
Call Ben and ask.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Okay.” She hurried to get her cell phone, thinking that each day brought new and unexpected events. Would there ever be a time when life around Max would be normal?

* * * * *

When Nikki and Max entered Simon’s study, he was focused on the screen of a laptop perched on his legs.

“It appears that Richard has been exonerated in the murder of Charles Abernathy.”

“How?” Nikki asked.

“One of our maids, Deborah Tillman, did not show for work the last two days. This morning Osgood had another member of the staff go to check on her, and found her dead. An apparent suicide.”

“She killed herself?” Nikki was shocked. Why would Deborah have killed herself? She seemed to like her job and Nikki hadn’t heard anyone speak about her as having personal problems.

“Apparent is the operative word here,” Simon replied. “A note was found in which she confessed to the murder. She wrote that she did it to get even with Richard for tossing her aside after a short-lived affair. He promised to have her flown to Europe to an apartment in Paris so that she would be close by while he was there with Helen. When he failed to fulfill his promise, she seduced Robinson in an attempt to make him jealous, but it didn’t work. According to the note he laughed at her when she called and informed him she’d slept with Robinson. Said that Robinson was welcome to her. That he’d been tired of her for months. She wanted to make him pay for breaking her heart, so she tried to frame him for murder, but found that she couldn’t live with it, and couldn’t live without him.”

Nikki looked from Simon to Max. “That…that—I’m sorry but that just sounds like a bad soap opera.”

“Well put,” Simon agreed. “I do not believe for a moment that there is a shred of truth in the so-called suicide note. But it does clear Richard.”

“What does that mean to us?” she asked.

That mistrust has been wedged between the major players. Something that could be to our advantage.
Max’s voice had her eyebrows rising.

She repeated his words for Simon, who nodded with a smile. “And why I summoned you. Helen placed a call to Robinson, demanding his presence. He should be here any moment.”

“Then we should get the surveillance net online and…” Nikki trailed off as Simon turned the laptop to show them what was on the display.

Helen sat on the divan in her private sitting room, sipping a cup of tea. “I think I’ll fix some coffee. Anyone want anything?” Nikki asked.

“Coffee would be lovely,” Simon replied. Max just gave her the thumbs up.

She was returning from the kitchen with a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and cups when Simon called to her. “Nikki, the show is about to begin.”

“Here I am,” she announced, placing the tray on a side table. “Coffee all around?”

“That can wait. Come,” Simon replied.

She hurried to take a seat on the couch beside Max. The laptop was sitting on the coffee table.

Helen was standing as Mark Robinson closed the door and crossed the room to her. “Helen I came as soon as I could.” He went to take her hand but she jerked it out of his reach.

“How dare you keep this from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Richard’s affair with that…that servant.”

“Helen, I didn’t know until I heard about the suicide note the poor woman left.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie to you? Helen,” he took her hand and lifted it to cradle it against his chest. “You know I’d never keep something like that from you. For god’s sake, I love you.”

Helen dropped her eyes for a moment then looked up at him. “Forgive me, Mark. I was just so…humiliated when this horrible news came to light. God only knows how many people are already laughing at me behind my back.”

She pulled away from Mark to stalk to the picture window overlooking the formal garden. “I could kill that man. Honestly. Look at what he’s put me through. And now this? I’ll be the laughingstock of society, Mark. Unable to show my face.”

Mark hurried over to her, taking her by the shoulders to turn her to face him. “Leave him. No, don’t look at me like that. I mean it. Leave him.”

“And free him to consort with every nubile nymphet that catches his eye? Dear Lord, I can see it now. Every other day there would be a photo of him and some strumpet plastered on the society page. No, I’ll never give him the satisfaction.”

“Then what?”

“I want him gone. Out of my life. Permanently.”

It was Mark who backed away. “Helen!”

She closed in on him, running one long-nailed, jewel-laden hand along the side of his face. “Think about it. If he were…no more, then we’d be free. Free, Mark. Why in just a short time it would be as we discussed. Our close business association could be seen to develop into something deeper and more personal.”

“Helen, we’re talking about murder.”

“We’re talking about justice!” Her voice was so sharp it sounded nearly brittle, her free hand gripping the lapel of his jacket tightly. “Justice for all the years of infidelity, for all he’s put me through, all he’s cost me and all I’ve had to suffer. And you could do it, Mark. You know how. You could make it look like he was killed by a jealous lover. Or a murder suicide. That would be fitting. Find one of those cheap floosies he’s so fond of and make it appear as if she killed him them herself.”

“Helen, wait.” Mark peeled her off him. “Even if we eliminated Richard we still won’t be safe. Upon his death, Maxwell and Simon would own all of Weston except for the ten percent I own.”

Helen’s face rearranged into an expression of thoughtful malice. “Damn Simon and his plots. There has to be a way, Mark. There just has to be.”

Her expression brightened. “What if Maxwell were to be permanently institutionalized? You could arrange that. All we need is the original documents from Charles and Judge Bellamy, and another physician to verify the original diagnosis.”

“Simon would never allow it, Helen.”

She hissed and walked over to throw herself dramatically onto the divan, taking care to arrange her skirt and smooth out the wrinkles. “Would that I could go back in time,” she said softly.

“Wishful thinking,” Mark replied and joined her on the divan. “But we can’t rewrite history. As much as we’d like to.”

“I was such a fool,” she said. “I thought a momentary fling with that man, Lucien, would punish Richard for his continued infidelity. And punish you, as well.”

“I’ve never understood why you felt I needed to be punished. What was it that I did, Helen, but love you?”

“That was enough,” she answered. “Have you any idea how miserable it is to know love and know that you cannot acknowledge it without sacrificing your entire life?”

“All too well. But I try not to dwell on it. Just as I try not to remember that night.”

“Not one of our finest, I’ll admit,” she said. “If only we could find that implement. Do you think Richard has it, keeping it in the event that he might want to use it against us?”

“No. If he had it, we’d have known long before now.”

“Then where is it?”

Mark shook his head. “Unless Simon managed to get his hands on it and secret it away for insurance, I have no clue what could have happened to it.”

“Unless…” She gave him a pointed look.

“No, it’s impossible. Maxwell couldn’t have gotten it. Besides, even if he did, he’ll never remember it.”

“Oh, Mark, what if his memory should return?”

“Then we’re royally screwed.”

She nodded and looked down at her hands, twisting the large diamond on her ring finger. “Perhaps it would be best if Richard and Maxwell died together. A tragic boating accident. Boats do occasionally explode, don’t they?”

“Hell, we can’t even find Maxwell,” Mark replied.

Nikki didn’t hear Mark’s reply. A groan from Max had her head whipping around to look at him. His body was stiffened out straight and his eyes had rolled back in his head.

“Max!”

No more had she screamed than he went into some kind of seizure, thrashing around with strange guttural sounds coming from him as his eyes rolled around like a wild animal.

“She tried to hold him still, but succeeded only in getting a fist to the side of the head that sent her tumbling to the floor.

“.

Max suddenly stopped thrashing around and slumped over on the couch.

Simon rolled his wheelchair over beside the couch and felt for Max’s pulse. “His heartbeat is strong and steady. I do not think he is in any immediate danger. And as you know from recent events, this type of episode is not without precedent in his life.”

“Maybe not, but damn, Simon, he just heard his mother talk about killing him and his father,” she whispered. “What the hell kind of people are you, anyway? Doesn’t anyone around here love anyone else but themselves?”

“We do stand as poor testament to humanity,” Simon replied. “But believe me, there is love here, Nikki. It is simply buried beneath years of lies, deceit and treachery.”

“To say the least. Simon, we have to get him out of here. It’s not safe. And he doesn’t deserve this—not any of it.”

“I agree, my dear. Completely. Please, just trust me a bit longer.”

She nodded and sat down on the floor beside the couch, wondering just how much more Max would have to suffer to gain his freedom.