More Than Friends (48 page)

"If I was wrong in not telling you who I killed, it was only because I didn't want you upset. I didn't think you'd understand. Some people don't. Murder is a terrible crime. I'm the first one to say it. I'm also the first one to say I'd never have raised a finger against the man if I hadn't thought your mom was in danger. Homer was hitting her and threatening to do worse. When he wouldn't let go of her, I hit him. He did let go then. He fell to the floor and banged his head. That was what killed him, coroner said."

Teke remembered the sound of Homer's head hitting the floor. It had been a bloodcurdling thwack. She pressed a fist to her mouth.

"Did you kick him?" came Michael's muted voice.

"Yeah. I was angry. I wanted him to get up and

fight me. I'd been holding my temper, warning him to keep his hands off her for so long that I just lost it. But he wouldn't get up. I kept yelling for him to, but he wouldn't. That's when I knew he was gone."

Michael huddled into his jacket.

Grady said, "I worried a whole lot about your mom when I was in prison. I told myself not to, 'cause I didn't have any more claim on her, but I wanted her to be okay. I found out she got married. I found out she had children."

"How?" Michael asked.

"I was working for people who knew other people. There was always someone who could dig up something for me. I came back here in October just to see her and talk with her. I didn't have anything else in mind, so help me. I told you before--if I could've stopped that truck before you ran out, I'd have done it. The last thing I wanted was to hurt a child of Teke's."

Teke fought back tears. For the first time, Grady's pain registered, really registered, and it wasn't the pain of the moment, but the pain he had experienced through all the years they had been apart. It struck her that she'd had the easy end of the deal-just as he had intended. She had been a fool for not seeing it sooner!

The tears came in a slow, steady trickle down her cheeks as Michael asked Grady, "Why are you staying here? Is it guilt?"

"If it was that, I'd have walked away the day you woke up from that coma when I knew you'd be okay. Lord knew no one was rolling out the welcome mat for me here. But your mom was in an awful state, and you were, too, and then I started liking you. You made me feel good, like I was worth something." He hesitated. His voice dropped. "And then there was your mom."

"What about her?"

"Your dad's right. I love her. I've loved her since I was twelve, and I'll love her 'til the day I die, but I wouldn't take her from your dad. Not unless she wanted to go. I don't have much to offer. But I'd protect her and be good to her and love her forever." Teke caught her breath. She couldn't ask any more from a man. Neither Grady nor she could control fate, and if fate tore them apart again, she might die. But the risk was worth it, just to have his love. Her happiness depended on it.

Running over the snow, she wrapped an arm around each neck, crying first against Grady's cheek, then into Michael's hair. When she could finally speak she whispered, "You both are so special to me. I could have spent the rest of my life sitting back in that shed, watching you work. I need Grady to love me, Michael. I need him to love me in spite of my flaws, and he knows them all. I need you to love me the same way. Will you?"

She held her breath, waiting.

At last, in a voice that was more low than high and beautiful to her in its wry acceptance, he said, "Not exactly the same way, Mom. That'd be pretty gross, don't you think?"

She laughed, hugged him harder, turned her head, and kissed Grady's cheek. Only then, catching a look at the woods over Grady's shoulder, did she realize that J.D. was gone.

J.D. drove aimlessly for a while, first through the streets of Constance, then through Boston. He felt lost and without purpose. When he tried to call on arrogance to lift his spirits, it eluded him. He didn't understand how someone as insignificant as Grady Piper could have made him feel so humble, but that was what had happened. The man clearly cared for Michael, and he did love Teke. J.D. was irrelevant to their lives.

That bothered him. He didn't want to be irrelevant. To anyone's life.

Desperate to ground himself, he headed for the office. His clients needed him even if Teke didn't. His clients looked up to him even if Michael didn't. And his clients paid him. What could be better?

He had barely left the elevator and pushed through the doors of the firm when, for no apparent reason, an image of Virginia Ginger flashed through his brain. It stayed with him all the way down the hall to his office. Not until he had stepped inside, and the image faded, did he understand. Stepping back into the hall, he sniffed. Her perfume was faint but distinct. Either another woman wearing Obsession had walked down that very hall not long before, or Virginia was somewhere in the firm.

He thought of her popping in to see his father unannounced and backing out in embarrassment. He thought of her bringing him a housewarming gift and ending up scorned. He thought of four husbands, an appetite for spending, a penchant for gossip, and a nose for trouble And he thought about Sam's confirmation hearings and John Stewart's threat.

Without pause he set off down the hall toward his father's office. The door was closed. He threw it open to find John Stewart sitting back in his chair with his hands folded over his middle in a self-satisfied pose and Virginia perched on corner of his desk, her long legs crossed gracefully at the knee.

With the sudden intrusion, John Stewart came forward and Virginia straightened.

"Well, well," J.D. said, "what have we here? A nice family friends visit? Or something more pointed?"

"Haven't you got the good grace to knock?" John Stewart barked. J.D. hitched his chin toward Virginia. "Did she?"

"Hello, J.D.," Virginia said defiantly. "How have you been?"

"Now that you ask"--he was unable to resist--"I haven't been the same since our little encounter at my place. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. You're a talented lady." He looked at his father. "Has she given you a taste, or is she just flaunting it in the hope you'll be satisfied just to look?"

"You have a filthy mind," said John Stewart. "Is there something special you want?"

"Yeah," J.D. declared, slipping an arm around Virginia. "Her." He'd be damned if he'd be irrelevant. He could play the game, too. "What's happening, Gin?" he asked warmly.

Virginia studied him for a minute before curving her spine to his arm.

"Not much," she answered. Her gaze fell to his mouth. More softly he said, "You never came back. You said you would."

"I didn't think I was wanted."

"I could smell your perfume all the way down the hall just now. It brought back pleasant memories." Even more intimately he said, "I missed you."

Her eyes brightened. "Did you?"

John Stewart cleared his throat. "Should we meet later, Virginia?" Still looking at J.D." Virginia arched a questioning brow. J.D. spoke to her in the same intimate tone. "I could go back to my office and wait. Is this something important?"

"We were just talking about Sam."

John Stewart came out of his chair. "It was nothing urgent. We'll talk another time."

"About his nomination?" J.D. asked Virginia, still softly. She nodded. "We were wondering if the Governor's Council knows what Sam did to your wife. J.S. was saying--"

"Another time," John Stewart ordered, but she wasn't listening. Her eyes were glued to J.D." whose face was inches above hers.

"J.S. thought that maybe I should make a call. I mean, I'm the one who saw them together that day, and it would be just one phone call." J.D. had figured as much. His father was dead set on preventing Sam's appointment, but what his father apparently hadn't yet accepted, in spite of J.D."s earlier threat, was that J.D. had become a force to contend with.

"I thought we had an agreement on that," he said, looking at John Stewart at last.

"I'm not making any phone call," John Stewart declared, tapping innocent fingertips to his chest.

"No. You're having Virginia do your dirty work."

"She won't do anything she doesn't want to do."

"You're right about that," J.D. said. His father's days of total control were over. John Stewart wouldn't block Sam's confirmation if J.D. had any say in it. J.D. wasn't irrelevant at all. "I doubt she'll want to make a call, once she and I talk." He put a gentle kiss on Virginia's perfect nose. If need be, he would put gentle kisses on every other part of Virginia's perfect body until Sam's confirmation came through, if that would keep her quiet. "Wanna go back to my office?" he asked, letting his eyes roam her face. It wouldn't be such a difficult task. Physically she was easy to take. And he was lonely. And horny. And damned if his father would get

away with his bulldozing this time around.

Virginia slipped off the desk. "That's my girl," J.D. said with his most winsome smile. With a wink for John Stewart, he guided Virginia out and away.

nineteen

Governor's Council was scheduled for four in the afternoon. Annie planned to be in the chamber for the hearing and had arranged to have Jason teach the class she would miss. It wasn't until she stopped for a late lunch in the coffee shop that she realized she hadn't seen him all day. Back in her office, she phoned his apartment, then hung up when the answering machine came on. She wasn't worried. He had never let her down.

Shortly before she was to leave to meet Sam, she received a call from the chairman of the department. "We have something of a crisis on our hands," he said. "Could you come to my office, please?" She glanced at her watch, calculated she had ten minutes to spare, gathered up her things, and trotted up the stairs to see Charles Honnemann. His office was large and high-ceilinged, with faded Oriental rugs on the floor and cracked oils on the walls. Charles was at his desk, looking grim. On a side chair sat Georgia Nichols. Annie didn't sit. She couldn't stay long. She wanted to be on her way to meet Sam. The hearing was

crucial. She was nervous on his behalf.

Then Charles gave her news that momentarily drove all that from mind.

"Jason Faust is in the hospital," he said. "Georgia found him unconscious in his apartment this morning. He's in a coma." Annie was stunned. "A coma? What happened?"

"He took an overdose of drugs."

"Oh, God."

"He's at the Deaconess. The doctors are trying to stabilize him. Did you know about his being unhappy?"

She swallowed. An overdose. There was the issue of money, but he hadn't struck her as being depressed. "I knew there was a problem at home." She wasn't sure how much to say. Jason had confided in her.

"Not at home," Charles said. "Here." The sharpness of his tone puzzled her. "He was pushing to finish his degree work by June," she offered. "He wanted to be teaching here in the fall." She cast a glance at Georgia, who looked awkward. "Is there something I don't know?"

Charles sighed. "I think you know, but aren't saying."

"I don't follow."

"It appears," he said gravely, "that Jason may have tried to commit suicide because he was in love with you, and the love wasn't returned. Were you aware of his feelings?"

Annie was appalled. She thought back to that day in her office, but it was months ago now. She couldn't believe this was related to that. "I was aware that he liked me. He used to tell me so all the time."

"Did you ever tell him back?"

"Of course. I do like him. I respect him. We're friends." To Georgia she said, "Did you speak with the doctors?"

"Just the admitting one," she answered, sounding as uncomfortable as she looked. "He couldn't tell me much."

"Were you aware of his using drugs?" Annie asked her.

"No."

"Were you?" Charles asked Annie.

"Never." She remembered his offering her pot, but she wasn't telling the chairman that. She had no evidence that he had it or used it.

"Georgia says he talked of having an affair with you." Annie caught in her breath. "No. Never." She felt justified in the denial. There had been one near consummation, then nothing.

"Why would he talk of it, if it wasn't so?"

"Because that is what cocky young men do sometimes. Charles, I don't understand why you have me here, now, like this." She resented Georgia's presence. If Charles had a bone to pick with her, she felt that her position on the faculty gave her the right to a private meeting.

"Since Georgia is the one making the accusation," Charles said, "I thought she ought to be here to face you."

"Her accusation is unfounded." Annie glanced at her watch. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go to my office, call the hospital, and see if I can get word on Jason, then head to Boston. I have an important meeting there." It occurred to that her class would have to be canceled.

Charles shook his head. To Georgia he said, "Why don't you run along while I talk with Dr. Pope."

Georgia was gone in a flash.

"Charles," Annie warned.

"I'm not happy," he said, staring out at her from under sparse gray brows. "I asked you once before if anything was going on between you and Faust. You said there wasn't."

"There wasn't."

"But it all makes sense. Everyone knows how close you two are. We've seen you head to head in the dining room, in the lounge, in class. The entire department saw you with him at the Christmas party. I tried to warn you then."

"I wasn't with him. I was talking with him. I like him. He's a friend. And I'm married--happily--to a man who is going to be waiting on the courthouse steps for me if I don't leave here within five minutes. You would be wiser to focus on how Jason is doing than to dream up liaisons between him and me. There was absolutely nothing going on."

"Perhaps you gave him the impression there might be, then let him down."

Annie bristled. "Why are you trying to make something out of nothing?"

"I don't like unexplained suicides."

"He isn't dead yet," Annie said, and let out a breath. She wanted to call the hospital. Then she wanted to be with Sam. "I have to leave," she said, feeling the urgency of it.