“I’m so sorry, Paul.” Constance sniffed, the sight of him starting a new round of tears. She scraped at her cheeks, trying hard to hide the devastation she felt inside. “Kenny… he’s already talked to the paper about the article. We’re demanding a retraction.”

  Paul stayed next to the door, glancing from face to face. “What paper? What article?”

  “The one in the American Inquisitor,” she replied, taking the tissue Arthur offered her.

  Kenny handed it to him.

  Paul stared at the front page a moment, then hurled it across the room. “You’re a walking disaster,” he snarled, glaring at Constance. “And you’re going to take this entire family down with you!”

  Kenny elbowed him in the ribs. “Before you throw your tantrum, could I borrow your cell phone? I left mine in my room and I’ve got to make a couple of important calls.”

  Without taking his eyes off Constance, Paul ripped the phone out of his pocket and handed it over. “Look at this,” he demanded, flinging a folder toward her that he’d brought with him. “It’s an interview with an old buddy of yours. Beverly Custerson. Ring any bells?”

  Arthur kept his arm around Constance’s shoulders. “What about her?”

  “If you’re wondering who sicced Damontraville on this family, I did. And I’m damn proud of it. I want the whole world to know what a crime against nature you are!”

  “Paul!” she cried. His hate was as palpable as his physical presence.

  Arthur leaped to his feet. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

  “Who the hell are you? You’re as twisted as she is. Constance Jadek’s not my mother. Pepper Buckridge was my mother. And she’d be alive today if that woman hadn’t poisoned her!” He pointed an accusing finger at Constance.

  She was so shocked, it took a moment before she could speak. “Who… who told you that?”

  “Not your buddy Beverly Custerson, that’s for damn sure. She says you explained to her how my father poisoned my mother so he could marry you.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a cry of outrage. “What kind of an idiot do you take me for? You primed that woman with a false story so that if any of this ever came out, someone would back up your little fiction to the police.”

  “Paul, you’ve got to listen to me. I don’t know what’s in this interview, but I didn’t poison your mother. I swear it.”

  “I don’t believe you! I’ve already contacted a lawyer. I want my mother’s body exhumed. Once we establish that she was poisoned, I’m going to make sure you’re arrested for murder!”

  “That’s enough,” said Arthur. “Nathan was right. We need to meet to discuss all of this, but we can’t do it here. We need privacy. Are you still planning to drive out to New Fonteney?”

  Paul gave them both a hard look. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Good. Then we’ll see you there.”

  Constance could tell by the look on Paul’s face that he didn’t like being dismissed, which was just what Arthur had done. She felt her own outrage so keenly that she was glad Arthur had taken over. If he hadn’t, she might have said something she would have regretted later. Or maybe that had been her problem all her life. She’d been too worried about other people’s feelings. Perhaps she should just tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may. The way she’d chosen to live was nobody’s business but her own, and yet now that the tabloids were about to offer her up on a silver platter to be ripped apart by that great American two-headed dragon — an insatiable public and a prurience-driven media — she might as well come clean. Whether or not her children ever spoke to her again, there were some important truths they had to hear.

  Kenny had retired to Arthur’s bedroom to make his phone calls. When he finally returned to the living room, everyone was gone. Checking his watch, he saw that he had about forty-five minutes to make it out to New Fonteney. Nathan might have his reasons for calling the meeting, but Kenny had reasons of his own for wanting to be there.

  After his conversation with David Polchow earlier in the day, he’d come to the conclusion that there was only one way to extricate himself from the walking disaster that was the Buckridge family. He’d just spoken with Nathan, filling him in on what Sophie had discovered. If she was allowed to go to the police with what she knew, the jig would be up. While they were talking, Sophie had shown up at Nathan’s door. It was perfect. Kenny had ordered him to keep her there, emphasizing that Nathan needed to impress on her the ramifications of what she was about to do. At all costs, she had to be talked out of going to the police. He told Nathan to use whatever emotional leverage he had left. Unfortunately, Nathan hung up before Kenny got a real sense of how far he was willing to go.

  The fact was, the only people Kenny really cared about in this whole mess, other than himself, were Emily and his children. He had to protect them, had to make sure that none of this touched them in any way. It was simple human survival, the most basic of all motivations. But it was pure luck that that tabloid article had appeared today. It played right into his hands.

  As he was about to leave Constance’s suite, Paul’s cell phone rang. Clicking it on, Kenny said, “Hello?”

  “Don’t talk” came a female voice. “It’s Marie. I’ve only got a few seconds before I board my plane. I just received an incredible E-mail and I had to pass it on to you right away.”

  “Okay,” he replied, realizing that she thought he was Paul. He listened as she repeated the information, then said she’d be in touch.

  Kenny shut off the phone and slipped it into his pocket. Well, wasn’t that just the kicker? After everything he’d done to preserve Constance’s good name, and now to find out it was all for nothing. The Buckridge family was in for one hell of a surprise tonight, compliments of Marie Damontraville.

  32

  “How about a glass of wine?” asked Nathan, laying the final birch log in the fireplace, then striking a match and setting the kindling ablaze.

  Sophie was standing at a picture window overlooking the St. Croix. The monks had built the visitor’s cabin directly behind the dining hall, allowing it an unobstructed view of the river valley as it sloped gently toward the water. The interior was simple but comfortable. The walls were the same rough-hewn wood used in the other buildings, and the furnishings were either new or made in the monks’ workshop. Nathan had placed a small bouquet of lilies of the valley in the center of a long, narrow dining table. The scent filled the cabin with springtime.

  “Wine would be nice,” said Sophie, turning to face him. He was wearing one of the monk’s robes. With his beard and his unruly black hair, he looked the part of a medieval friar. He’d explained that he found the robes amazingly comfortable and was glad a few had been left behind.

  Sophie had driven to the old monastery for a specific reason, but she wanted to ease into the discussion, not hit Nathan over the head with what she knew the second she walked in the door. She planned to be long gone by the time the family meeting started. She had no desire to run into Kenny Merlin. But she figured she had a good half hour before she had to leave. “Arthur tells me you’ve bought New Fonteney.”

  He smiled. “I wanted to tell you right away, but the last couple of days have been pretty crazy.” He glanced up at a small wine rack in the kitchen, twisting the bottles around so that he could read the labels more clearly. “What would you say about trying a Shiraz port? Someone gave me a bottle, told me it was a monster.”

  Sophie didn’t doubt it. A Shiraz was nothing if not screaming fruit. Still, it sounded fun. “Sure, why not?”

  “I can’t vouch for it,” he added, making a clean slice through the covering just under the rim, “so it will be a trial run for both of us.” After he’d poured two glasses, he came into the living room holding them up and asking, “Where do you want to sit? I think it’s a little cold on the deck. I’ve noticed that it’s a lot chillier out here at night than it is in the city.”

  “Let’s sit by the fire,” said Sophie. She would have preferred to go for a walk, have the conversation out in the open air, but the fire looked inviting and so did the wine. There was a kind of unadorned peacefulness about the cabin that appealed to her. It must have appealed to Nathan, too, because he seemed completely at ease.

  After tossing a couple of overstuffed pillows on the floor, Nathan sat down, waiting for Sophie to join him. When she did, he handed her a glass, then closed his eyes, breathed in the bouquet, and took a sip. “Yikes!” he said, his eyes popping right back open. “It’s about what I expected.”

  Sophie tasted it next. “It’s definitely one of the most flamboyant ports I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Flamboyant, huh? Ever the diplomat. It will serve you well in your new part-time profession.”

  There it was. Her opening. “Nathan …” She set the glass down, then drew her knees up to her chest. “The truth is, I came out here tonight because I… I needed to talk to you.”

  “I assumed you weren’t here in your capacity as welcome wagon hostess.” He smiled, then sobered, gazing at her thoughtfidly before looking into the fire. “It’s about George Gildemeister.”

  She wondered if she’d said or done something to give herself away. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she said, “I know your family bribed him to write that negative review of the Belmont. I found a fax in some of George’s papers. It’s pretty damning.”

  “Why am I not surprised? You always did like a good mystery. You can’t stand being in the dark.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I was so drawn to you.”

  “Gee, and here I thought it was my boyish charm — and the profound nature of my soul.”

  “That, too.”

  He shook his head. “I wish, just this once, that you’d left well enough alone.”

  “I couldn’t, Nathan. A friend of mine will go to prison if I don’t do something to help him.” She paused, trying to get a fix on what he was thinking. Was he actually going to let an innocent man take the rap when he had the power to stop it? “I want you to tell me what happened the night George died. You were there. So was Kenny. I have evidence to prove that, too.”

  “Have you talked to the police?”

  “Not yet.”

  He leaned back against one of the pillows. “You realize, of course, that if you tell them what you know, it will ruin my family.”

  “If I don’t tell, a friend will be convicted of a murder he didn’t commit. I don’t want to hurt you, Nathan, but I don’t see how I can sit on this much longer.”

  “No,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t realize I was doing it, but I’ve put you in the middle. Now I’ve got to get you out.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He gave her a long look, then said, “Part of what I told you was true. When I got to George’s apartment that night, he was already dead. Kenny and I were supposed to meet with him at seven-thirty to pay him off. I was late. Kenny was early. Not that it mattered because he found George dead, too. See, he told me that as he was getting out of his car, he saw Harry coming out of the building. Kenny knew who he was because the first night we got into town he’d driven over to the Belmont to check the place out. I mean, I knew I didn’t murder George. And Kenny said he hadn’t either. It just seemed logical to both of us that Harry must have done it. I felt terribly guilty for the part we’d played in George’s death, but what could I do? And then when the police arrested Harry, I just prayed that they wouldn’t find out who else had been there that night. But after what you told me in the park, I knew that a woman had seen me coming out of the apartment. I told Kenny I was afraid the police might pick me up for questioning. For obvious reasons, we didn’t want that to happen. See, Kenny had already made a bid to buy the restaurant. If someone put two and two together, we would have had some pretty fast explaining to do. Anyway, Kenny said he’d take care of it.”

  “He did,” said Sophie, her expression hardening. “He made a bunch of threatening phone calls to the woman, said she wouldn’t live to see her next birthday if she didn’t keep her mouth shut. She’s so terrified she won’t even leave her apartment.”

  “God, I had no idea.” He hung his head.

  “That’s not all. Kenny made the calls from a pay phone just around the corner from Harry’s house. That means the police think Harry did it. They want to revoke his bail and toss him back in jail. He’s an old man, Nathan. He can’t stand much more of this.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. But you have to understand, until yesterday I thought he really was guilty. Now I know he’s not. Kenny lied to me.”

  He seemed to be in such distress that Sophie gave him a moment before asking, “How did you find out?”

  “This is such a nightmare. I’m not sure I’m ever going to wake up.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Yesterday I was leaving the hotel when I bumped into him in the lobby. He was about to drive Emily to the airport and he was waiting for her to come downstairs. Knowing Emily, I realized it could take a while, so I told him I needed a word. He tried to put me off, but I wouldn’t let him. We moved over to an empty corner and I told him about my suspicions. Something you said last Wednesday afternoon in the park kept eating at me.”

  “And that was?”

  “You said George’s neighbors had heard two separate arguments the night he died. I wondered about that. You don’t know Kenny, but I do. He’s a liar by nature, and a man with zero scruples. So I confronted him. I told him what I’d learned and then I asked him point-blank if he’d murdered George. He denied it, so I pressed harder. And I kept pressing until he told me the truth.

  “According to Kenny, George was in meltdown mode that night. He’d just talked to Harry and something Harry said really got to him. George was feeling intensely guilty for what he’d done. When Kenny took out the money to pay him, he refused it, said he’d decided to come clean. He was going to call the paper in the morning and make a full confession. Well, Kenny couldn’t allow that. He tried to talk him out of it. He used every argument he could think of, but nothing got through. He even offered George ten times the money we usually pay. He knew he couldn’t just leave when George was in that state of mind. If the press got wind of what we were up to, all hell would break loose. I’m sure that deep in his soul, assuming he has one, Kenny sees himself as our savior. George had to be stopped, so he stopped him. And, he was quick to point out, since I’d been there too, who could say what had really gone on? After all, the woman across the hall ID’d me, not him. And even if the cops were able to somehow prove he’d done it, I’d go to jail as a coconspirator unless I went to the police right then, which he knew I wouldn’t. He had me by the throat.”

  “So you did nothing.”

  He nodded. It was a simple gesture, and yet she could see the desperation in his eyes. “I had an important meeting in Duluth last night. It wasn’t something I could put off. So yes, I left. But I haven’t thought about anything else since Kenny told me what really happened. And, I admit, I’m scared to death of going to jail. I’m a coward, Sophie. I’m on the brink of finally getting my life together, and everything will be blown to bits if I do what’s right.” He turned his face away and stared once again into the fire.

  “I’m sorry, Nathan.”

  After a long moment he said, “Yeah. Me, too.” His voice was barely audible. “I was incredibly stupid to get involved in this.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done it before. Bribed a restaurant critic, I mean.”

  He picked up his wineglass. “A couple times. Kenny handled it. Kenny handles everything. I found the properties, then he moved in and did all the dirty work. But nobody’d ever turned on us before. When I talked to him yesterday, I could see he was genuinely frightened. My mother has no idea what we’ve been up to.”

  “Does Paul know?”

  “Actually, he was the one who came up with the idea. It must have been about four years ago. It was a joke really. He threw it out one night after a few too many beers. We all laughed, talked about how much we loathed food critics. But Kenny wouldn’t let it drop. He saw right away that the idea had potential. We’d just paid through the nose to buy a restaurant in Seattle, and Kenny thought this might be a way to create a more favorable bottom line. Paul and I both pretty much stayed out of it. The Buckridge boys keep their hands clean, Soph. Kenny took it from there. He’s good at what he does. But sometimes, he doesn’t have the best judgment. He goes too far.”

  “Like the car bomb, the one that killed Sean Rafferty.”

  Nathan drew his arms close around his body, as if he felt a chill. “Yes, like Rafferty. I suspected Kenny might be behind it. He confirmed it yesterday. His excuse was that Mom had ordered him to do whatever it took to stop Marie Damontraville. He felt he had carte blanche to take any action he deemed necessary.”

  “Why do you keep this guy around?”

  Nathan’s look was sharp. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s got the backbone the rest of us lack. I could have stopped this restaurant crap from happening, but I didn’t. Neither did Paul. It was good for business, which thrilled Mom to no end. And Paul was amassing a stable of restaurants that fit right in with his long-term goals. I may travel around the country making sure everything is running smoothly, but it’s Paul’s kingdom I’m managing. He made sure his name went on all the deeds, along with my mother’s.”

  “Not yours?”

  “The truth is, I simply don’t care. Paul’s ego is on the line when it comes to the academy and the academy-sponsored restaurants, but it’s never really meant that much to me. All that’s ever really mattered to me is my mother.” He took a sip of wine, then set the glass on the table behind him. “Since I’ve come back to Minnesota, it’s like … like I’ve gone to visit a graveyard where my past is buried but all the corpses are up and walking around. Why don’t they have the decency to stay in the ground, Sophie? The past doesn’t belong in the present.”