Endless (24 page)

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Authors: Tawdra Kandle

Tags: #romance, #love, #murder, #occult, #magic, #witch, #college, #king, #psychic

BOOK: Endless
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“Very,” I agreed.

“Tasmyn loves history,” Michael said,
squeezing my hand. “She can tell you more about the Civil War than
most college professors.”

“Is that so?” Mariana turned and laid a hand
on her husband’s arm. “John, you should show her your
great-grandfather’s sword and journal. He was in the war, too. The
family lived in Virginia then.”

Congressman Remington looked decidedly
uncomfortable. “Oh, Mariana, these young people aren’t interested
in that sort of thing.”

“Nonsense. Take her to the library and let
her see it. Meanwhile, I’m going to bend Michael’s ear about my
roses.” She led him toward a sofa in the other room.

John Remington was frowning and his thoughts
were decidedly unhappy. He most certainly did not want to be alone
with me in any capacity. My association with King troubled him, and
given what I had heard him thinking about Nick, I wasn’t
surprised.

The library was suffused with dim lighting.
The congressman led me to a low display table and opened it
carefully.

“Here it is. . for what it’s worth.” He shot
me an apologetic smile. “I’m sure you’ve seen much more exciting
artifacts than this one. Thank you for humoring my wife.”

“I wasn’t,” I assured him. “It really is
cool.” I touched the gleaming silver reverently.

“You’re very kind.” There was an odd tone in
his voice, and I glanced up, hearing and feeling the vague
melancholy. I knew why I made him uncomfortable.

“Congressman.” I was not sure of the best way
to broach this topic, but with his guilt growing, I felt it might
be my best opportunity to finally get some real information. “I get
the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

His eyes widened and I felt the burst of
panic. And then he was back in control. “Now why would you say
that?”

I shrugged. “I think it might have something
to do with the fact that I come from King. I think maybe that town
has some bad memories for you.”

He rubbed his neck, sighing. “You’re very
perceptive. Yes, my association with King was not a happy time in
my life. I lost a good friend.”

“I’m sorry.” I hesitated again, wondering how
far to push. He was pensive, but remorse licked at the edges of his
mind. I picked up the journal that lay next to the sword and
mindlessly traced the leather etchings.

“Thank you. When you reach a certain age, you
begin to realize how much you miss those people who have fallen
along the wayside in your life. Nick and I had been knowing each
almost our whole lives.”

I would have laughed with jubilation if the
mood hadn’t made that impossible. He had just given me the opening
I needed.

“Would that be Nick Massler?”

He drew in a sharp breath. “How did you
know?”

Partial truth was my best bet here, I
decided. “I went to school with Nell Massler. I know her father is
Nick, and King isn’t that big a town.”

The congressman nodded. “That’s true. A very
small, very insular town. Very odd. Things happened there. . .” He
shook his head again. “Things I can’t explain. Things I did that I
can’t explain.”

“Do you see Nick nowadays? Do you have
contact with him? I think he lives around here.”

Remington’s mouth twisted. “He lives less
than five miles from here. But no, I don’t see him. I. . .hear
things, of course.”

“Like that he might be thinking about running
for the senate seat you want?”

He looked at me, half amused and half afraid.
“You seem to know a lot about Nick.”

I raised one shoulder. “What I hear is that
he has a pretty good shot at it. And that can’t make you
happy.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Of course it
doesn’t. No politician wants to run against a friend, not even one
he hasn’t spoken to in years.”

“So I guess you would do just about anything
to keep him out of the race.”

Remington narrowed his eyes. “What are you
getting at?”

“Nick’s girlfriend was killed a few weeks
back. Very brutally. There’s talk he could be blamed for it.”

He didn’t answer, but his mouth
tightened.

I drew in a deep breath. “Did you have
anything to do with Helene Gamble’s murder, Congressman?”

His shock and horror were genuine and
immediate. “What? God, no! What are you talking about? Why would
you think. . .” His voice trailed off. “You think I killed Helene
to make it look like Nick did it, to set him up. Good Lord, what a
low opinion you have of me!” He wheeled around and stalked to the
wall of casement windows.

His denial didn’t surprise me. It was what he
was thinking that interested me; it was why I had so baldly asked
the question. There was not even a glimmer of guilt when I
mentioned Helene’s name. He wasn’t hiding anything about her.

“Something happened, though,” I mused, just
barely aware that I was speaking out loud. “Something with Nick
that you regret. More than just friends growing apart because their
lives went in different directions.”

Remington drummed his fingers on the
windowsill. “Yes, perceptive,” he muttered. He sighed again, and
then turned to face me.

“It’s not nearly what you suspected. I
promise you no one was hurt—at least not physically. And I had the
best intentions.”

I was silent, just listening. In his mind, he
was already back in King.

“How much do you know about Nick and why he
gave up his political hopes?”

I measured my words. “His wife had some sort
of incident. She ended up in a mental hospital.”

“I knew Nick from the time we were boys. We
went to school together. And then he met Alyse. It was odd from the
beginning. Like he was just obsessed. Have you seen pictures of
her?”

I shook my head. “No. But I think Nell looks
like her. At least I’ve heard that.”

“Yes, there was a strong resemblance when she
was a child. Alyse was striking, but not pretty. She was
flamboyant, but mercurial. You never quite knew where you stood
with her. But that didn’t matter to Nick. He wanted her, he had to
be with her. After they met, when she went back to King, he was
desperate to see her again. I’d never seen anything like it.

“We all assumed it would play out, or if they
married, she would come here and be part of our society. Support
Nick’s career. And they did end up getting married, but she
wouldn’t leave King. We were all amazed that Nick agreed to live
there.”

“Were they happy?” I really wanted to know. I
thought of Nell lying alone and still in her hospital bed.

“At first, yes. They were thrilled when Nell
was born, but it was not long after that Nick began to seem
restless. I visited down there pretty often, because I wasn’t
married yet, and I was still hoping that Nick would come back. Life
as it should have been could resume. We had a plan.”

“ A plan?”

“Yes, we’d had this idea for a long time.
Nick would run for office—he had the family connections—and I would
run his campaign. And then once we had him set up, he’d pave the
way for me. We were going to take Florida and then DC by storm.

“I started reminding Nick of the plan,
talking about setting up his run for state senate. It was the first
step. He was tempted, and he talked about it. But in the end, he
wouldn’t leave King. He wouldn’t leave Alyse.”

I was beginning to see what had happened as
it took shape in Remington’s mind. “So you thought you should help
him out. Give him some sort of nudge.”

He looked at me sharply. “Yes. I had spent
enough time with Alyse that I knew she too was restless. She had
sensed Nick moving away from her, probably knew on some level that
it was just a matter of time. But while Nick would stay out of a
sense of obligation, Alyse was vengeful.”

I thought about Nell, and I shivered.

“So I introduced her to someone. I put things
in place, planted seeds. I’m not sure I thought out what I expected
to happen. I guess maybe I thought she would have a flirtation,
maybe worst case an affair. And that would rattle Nick, make him
realize he had to get out of King, get his family out. Force Alyse
to move up here with him.”

I snorted. “Kind of backfired on you, didn’t
it?”

The congressman dropped his head into his
hands. “I helped them meet. I told Alyse that I saw how Nick was
ignoring her. She was very self-centered, and it never even
occurred to her that I had an ulterior motive. At least she never
said.

“When it came out what she tried to do to his
wife, I was aghast. Nick was devastated, and all I could see when I
looked at him was my own guilt.”

“You never told him?” I kept my voice soft,
no accusation.

“I didn’t. I think. . .Alyse might have said
something. Possibly even the man she was seeing. I think Nick
suspected. He came back here after all, but there was no race for
him. Instead I ran. I tried to reach out to him, but he stopped
returning my calls.”

He let out a long, shuddering breath. “There
you have it. There’s my deep, dark secret, Ms. Vaughan. Now you
tell me something. Are you working for Nick?”

Startled, I jerked back. “What? No. I work
for you. It’s like you said, I’m just really perceptive.”

Remington pursed his lips, about to speak,
when the door opened. Mariana poked her head into the room. “Are
you all still talking history in here? John, shame on you, you’re
neglecting your guests.”

I stood, realizing that I was still holding
the leather journal. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Remington, I’m afraid it’s
all my fault. We got chatting on history, and I just monopolized
the Congressman.”

I turned to face Remington. “Thank you, sir,
for sharing this with me.” I tried to telegraph a reassurance that
I wasn’t going to say anything about his story, but his eyes
remained bleak.

As I slipped past Mariana Remington in search
of Michael, I thought that there was no good to come from including
the congressman’s confession in my report. There was nothing to do
about it now. And I had a strong feeling that living with the guilt
was punishment enough.

 

 

Saturdays were typically my favorite day of
the week. I had Michael all to myself, without work or classes to
distract us.

But the day after Congressman Remington’s
cocktail party, I couldn’t settle down to anything. Michael had a
meeting for a group project in the middle of the day, so I spent
the morning in my own dorm room, picking up one task and then
another before putting them down.

I didn’t realize how much I was bothering
Sophie until she fixed me with a steady reproving gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just restless
today, I guess.” I glanced out the window at the sun-drenched day.
“Maybe I’ll go outside and read.”

“I think that is a very good idea,” Sophie
agreed. I shoved a few books and a towel into my backpack and
headed for the green.

I lay in the sunniest, least-crowded section,
but even with a book I’d been dying to read and the warmth beating
down on my back, I couldn’t concentrate. I kept hearing the
Congressman’s voice, seeing his haunted face. I had to wonder what
would have happened if Remington hadn’t interfered in his friend’s
marriage. Would Nick have stayed in King? If Nell had never lost
her mother, might she have been a different person?

“Is this sun spoken for?” The deep voice was
familiar, jerking me out of my reverie. I shaded my eyes and looked
up into the smiling face. It took me a moment to remember his name,
but then he thought it—
Seth Philips
—and I remembered.
Aline’s boyfriend.

“Hi, “ I said, turning over. “Um, how are
you?” It was awkward; I had met him off campus, but I knew he was a
professor. There had to be a certain amount of respect and
formality.

“Great. It’s good to see you, Tasmyn.” Those
brown eyes bore into mine, but I felt no animosity, only kindness
and a sort of peace.

“Yeah, you too, Mr. Philips.”

He laughed. “Hey, please. Call me Seth. Mr.
Philips is like my father or better yet, my grandfather.” He rolled
his eyes and I couldn’t help smiling.

“Okay, Seth. Are you doing your Bible study
out here today?”

He looked around as though I had reminded
him. “Yeah, in about an hour. I just came out to scope out a spot.”
He returned his eyes to mine. “But how are you, Tasmyn? You look a
little unhappy. Worried, maybe.”

I smiled again. “Does having a shrink for a
girlfriend give you intuition by proxy?”

He laughed, that same joy-filled sound, and I
was glad I hadn’t offended him. “Nah, and Aline is really
tight-lipped anyway. Neither of us talks much about our work. You
don’t have to be a professional to sense when someone’s struggling
with something. And you don’t have to be a shrink to lend an ear.
So. . .you want to talk?”

I was about to say no when instead, I heard
different words coming out of my mouth.

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