Finding Julian (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

  
My eyes fluttered awake
. Aunt Bev’s worried face peered down at
me. I eased up a bit and she gently laid me back down on the bed.

“Julian, are you all right, dear?” her
voice sounded like it was
underwater.         

“What happened?” I asked, rubbing my
temple.

She gave me something to drink. “Your
sister pushed you down the side steps, remember. You hit your head so hard you
were knocked out.” She helped me sip some water through a straw. “Marlene was
worried about how it might look to the police so she called her doctor to the
house, instead of taking you to the hospital. That bitch. Luckily, it wasn’t too
serious.”

I pushed up and sat against the
headboard. “It was an accident. Don’t be too mad at Mackenzie—”

“I’m angry at them both,” Aunt Bev
grunted. “I was in Providence this morning and heard about what happened when I
got back to the office. That was just awful. How humiliated Seven must have
been.”

She sat at the edge of the bed, lost in
thought. Then she reached over and patted my shoulder. “Everyone likes what
you’ve done for the magazine, Julian. I can’t wait for the dinner to show off
all your hard work.”

I placed my hand on top of hers. “You
did most of the work. I only added a few things.”

Aunt Bev smiled at me. “Don’t be so
modest.”

She stood again and picked up an ice
pack out of a basin, handing it to me. “The doctor says to keep this at the
back of your head.”

Taking the ice pack from her, I pressed
it behind my head and considered the contents of both wills, and what Ms.
Vaughn said about my father wanting Aunt Bev out of it. I concluded it must
have been a mistake. Maybe brother and sister had an argument. Whatever the
case, I should tell Aunt Bev everything.

Just as she turned to leave, I called
out to her, “Aunt Bev, wait.”

She twirled and walked back over to my
side. “What is it, Julian?”

Her hazel eyes were so kind, full of
love. There was no way she could’ve planned to take away my father’s company
and wealth, much less have him killed.

        
“Um,” I began.

 “Yes?” she tipped her head to the
side and narrowed her eyes.

“Did you and my father fight before he
died?”

Aunt Bev straightened. “Why?”

“Because, I need to know why he wanted
you out of his will and why he insisted on making another one.”

If what Mr. Cornwell said was true, that
my father was misled into thinking his own sister couldn’t be trusted, then she
would have nothing to worry about.

Aunt Bev stared absently at me,
engrossed in a private memory. She drew her brows together and a lonely tear
fell down her cheek.

“We did. It was horrible, Julian.” She
shook her head in distress. “He rushed into the guesthouse, accusing me of
trying to steal from him. He said terrible things about David. I had no idea
who had influenced him.”

She walked over to the sliding glass
door and peeked through the curtains, the memory of that day consuming her
mind. “My brother and I were very close, best friends. Then he started to get
sick and he saw me as his enemy. When he got worse, I had to do a lot more work
in the office for him and myself both. Instead of being grateful, he was upset
with me.”

I moved the ice pack from my head and
set it on the table next to the bed. “What do you think caused his anger
towards you?”

Slanting, she looked at me sideways then
wrapped one arm around her waist and wiped her cheek with the other. “I’m not
sure, Julian. And after hearing what happened today I got my friend at the
station to give me Ms. Vaughn’s phone number. She was so rude to me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She called me a murderer and said
if I ever tried to talk to her again she’d report to the police that I was
harassing her.”

“Wow,” I blew out a breath.

Aunt Bev came back to the bed and sat
down. “
Wow
indeed.”

“About Claire,” I switched the subject
to a more pressing issue. “Are you going to keep her here?”

“No. I let her go. There’s no way I
could keep her after hearing about her relationship with Anthony,” she
answered, keeping a watchful eye on me.

“Still, did she have access to the main
house?” I continued.

Massaging her temple, Aunt Bev released
a sound of annoyance. “Please don’t tell me you think Claire had something to
do with my brother’s death.”

“It’s just that—”

“Stop it, Julian.” She cut me off then
hopped off the bed. “First it’s me, then Anthony, and now you’re going to
suspect Claire. She might have gotten swayed by that prick, but she’s no
killer.”

I didn’t understand this burst of
hostility. “I’m not accusing anyone,” my pitch heightened a tad.

“It’s in your eyes, Julian. I saw that
look you gave me the first time I brought you to the office, and the way you
looked at me yesterday when I came home. You never told me a thing because you
don’t trust me.”

My eyes dropped onto my lap. “Sorry,” I
whispered.
This family didn’t make trusting them easy
—too many secrets.

She softened her tone as she continued,
“The fact that you were sneaking around to get yourself out of the will and not
trusting me enough to come to me with what Robert or his secretary told you
says a lot.”

Aunt Bev shook her head. “
I
was
the one who helped your mother, made phone calls on behalf of your father when
he was too afraid to do so. It hurts, that even for a second you thought I was
capable of hurting him.”

My lips trembled as I spoke. “Sorry. I
just…it’s hard to trust the family who didn’t want me—”

“I want you, Julian.” She eased down on
the bed. “You’ve always been a Vanderson to me.”

Finally, the tears burst through the dam
I’d built years ago. I let them flow freely. I was tired of fighting, with
myself, my mother, and with them.

Aunt Bev embraced me as I sobbed on her
shoulder. “It’s okay, dear,” she hushed me. “You don’t have to be afraid. You
can trust me.”

*

Later that evening, I didn’t feel like
eating dinner so I stayed in the room, staring up at the ceiling. My head still
hurt a bit and I’d been asleep for most of the day.

Getting tired of just lying down, I
slipped out of bed and walked over to the sliding doors. The second I opened
them, the cool ocean breeze whooshed past me and entered the room.

I hugged myself and eased over to the
loveseat, glancing at my father’s oil painting. I’d removed the cloth so I
could stare at it at nights before going to sleep.

Running my fingers along the side, I
admired his efforts once more. Seven
was
right. My father’s paintings
did mean something to me, because I used to paint as well.

A light chortle escaped my lips as I
considered the similarities between me and my father, and the secrets I was
keeping from everyone. How strange it was, that even though I grew up without
him, I felt like I knew him just from being at the estate.   

 A light rap sounded outside my
door and brought me out of my thoughts.

Thinking it was Aunt Bev, I called out,
“I’m not hungry. I’ll eat later.”

“It’s Seven.”

Hearing his deep voice, my heart started
to race. I got up from the loveseat and walked over to the door, opening it
halfway.

“Hey,” he said lowly.

“Hey,” I replied.

“How are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “Like I’ve been hit by a
truck.”

“Yeah, that was pretty extreme of
Kenzie.” His eyes flared, infuriated by her.

“It was an accident,” I defended her
once again. “We were both upset.”

For a moment, he stared at me, his body
language conveying his hope for something. I stepped aside and motioned for him
to come in.

Seven entered and walked over to the
sliding doors. “I was mad at you for not trusting me. I guess I took it too
personal…” he turned and faced me. “I mean, when your dad asked me to watch out
for you, I just wanted to do my best, for his sake, you know?”

There it was again, his obligation to my
father. “You don’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Is there anything
else you’re keeping secret though? I’d like to know before the cops come after
me again.”

I dropped my eyes to the carpet,
thinking I should at least come clean about seeing his father with Claire. Even
if Mr. Monroe had confessed, I still considered it important to be honest with
Seven.

Meeting his gaze, I said, “I saw them…”
my words were like whispers.

Seven leaned his head to the side and
creased his forehead. “Who?”

“I saw your father and Claire, on the
beach. It was on that day I came to your room and you were…” I hesitated.

Unsure as to whether or not I should
apologize and try to explain my reason for keeping that from him, I stayed
quiet and waited for his reaction.

Seven moved closer to me. “You knew? You
saw them together and you didn’t say anything?” he folded his arms. “Why didn’t
you tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place, and I didn’t want
to be the one to…” I trailed off.

“To what?” he prompted.

“…To hurt you with news like that.”

He appeared exasperated, drawing in a
long breath. “Wow, you are a
very
secretive person. Just be careful
though, you might trust the wrong people with your secrets.”

Seven turned and walked out of the room.
I stood in place, tears welling up my eyes as I deliberated his last words. He
was right.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Detective Walters stopped by
the day after. He questioned everyone again. Though they had alibies for Mr.
Cornwell’s murder, the fact remained that Seven and his father were mentioned
in his final words, having something to do with my father’s death. So, with the
insistence of Aunt Bev and Detective Walters, Marlene finally went ahead and
requested an autopsy, to prove once and for all what really caused my father’s
death.

It would be another day or two before
they received the results. And after carefully thinking it over, I decided not
to sell the estate as originally intended and just give it to Mackenzie. Her
hysteria pulled me out of my anger.

She was sitting on the beach when I
walked out to the balcony in my room. I was curious what had her in such deep
contemplation, because I’d never seen her on the beach before. She was mostly
in her room or at the animal shelter—never at the house she wanted so badly to
get from me.

Walking out to the beach, I sat down
next to her. Mackenzie winced, seeing me. She seemed apologetic and embarrassed
all at once.

“Um…are you all right after—”

“I’m fine,” I answered before she finished.
“I’m a tough girl.”

Mackenzie swallowed then looked down at
the sand. She cupped some into her hand and let it seep through her fingers.
“Look, it was an accident. I was really upset…I guess what I’m trying to say
is…” she stammered, having a hard time saying the word. “I’m…”

I choked back a laugh. “Don’t force
yourself if you don’t mean it.”

Her eyes widened in anger. “I am sorry.”
Her words were sharp. “I might not like you, but I have no intention of
physically hurting you.”

Staring out at the ocean and away from
her gaze, I asked, “Why can’t you like me then?” I surprised even myself.

There was a long pause before she
answered, “Because, Julian…” she hesitated. Maybe she was unsure about her own
feelings.

I turned to meet her eyes, peering into
the same shade of blue like my own. “Because?” I pressed her.

Her lips parted, a tiny breath escaped,
only no words came out. She shook her head in frustration then jumped to her
feet.

“Mom said Mr. Danton processed the legal
papers for you to sign, they’ll be ready soon. They’re going off the most
recent will after all.” She exhaled. “Mom isn’t going to try and get the estate
so make sure you sign them and leave immediately, Julian. I’ll drive you to
Providence and put you on the train if I have to. But just make sure you
leave.”

I watched her, speechless, as Mackenzie
scurried off in the direction of the main house. I wondered why she wanted to
get away from me so bad. Then that day we were arguing on the deck popped up in
my head, and what she said about me having no clue about what really happened
between my mom and our father.

“Mackenzie,” I called after her.

She stopped and glanced back at me.
“What?”

Treading up to her, I said, “Tell me
what happened.”

She rolled her eyes. “What are you
talking about?”

“That day, when me and my mom came here,
my dad wouldn’t…” I shook my head. “…
couldn’t
see us. Why? Tell me what
really happened.”

Mackenzie combed her fingers through her
hair and looked out at the ocean, drifting off into an old memory.

“He couldn’t,” she said under her
breath. “My mom and grandpa threatened to make you suffer if he did.”

“Why?”

Her eyes flicked back to mine. “Isn’t it
obvious? Why don’t you ask Aunt Bev? She’s the one with his journal. It has
everything
.”

“I’m asking you.”

It went quiet between us, with only the
sounds of rushing waves and birds chirping.

“He loved your mom,” she finally said.
“He was going to leave and chase after her in New York. But he would’ve lost
everything, and he didn’t want to lose this place. He hated it, but somehow, he
still loved it. And he knew I needed him, so did Aunt Bev and his father.”

I wanted to hear the truth, only knowing
it hurt a lot. “I wasn’t worth the sacrifice.”

My eyes watered. For a moment, it seemed
like Mackenzie was going to dispute my words. She eased closer to me, a look of
empathy in her eyes.

Then once again, she washed any hope I
had of making a connection with her away, saying, “Well, what did you expect?
You’re the bastard child after all.”

I waited until she turned her back and
walked up to the main house before allowing the tears to stream down my face.
Silly me for thinking that she cared. Even if there was a speck of kindness in
her heart for me, she was too cold to show it.

*

Seven was still acting weird around me.
On Wednesday, I went to Vanderson Publishing office in Newport with Aunt Bev.
And every time he and I crossed paths, he’d look away and avoided me at all
cost. I didn’t understand why. Yes, I did keep his father’s affair a secret,
but there was no need for him to prolong his evasion when the cat was let out
of the bag by his father anyway.

What made it worse, Bridget and I
stumbled into each other when I was leaving the conference room where I usually
go to work on the project if no meeting was in session. Whenever I came by the
office with Aunt Bev, she’d get touchy-feely with Seven in my presence. She was
trying really hard to make me jealous. And it was working.

Bridget stood three inches above me in
her high heels. Brushing her salon-perfect brown hair off her shoulders, she
unveiled a devious smile and moved to the side so I could pass.

Just as I stepped into the hall and
started for Aunt Bev’s office, Bridget cleared her throat and stopped me in my
tracks. “Julian, is it?”

When I slanted and looked back at her,
Bridget started walking towards me. She stopped only a few feet away and folded
her arms. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

 “Look at who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she cracked. “Seven.
It’s obvious you like him.”

I gave her a cold stare then continued
on my way. Bridget hurried up to my back and grabbed my arm. “Listen, Seven and
I are trying to make things work between us so stay the hell away from him.”

Maybe that was the real reason he
stopped himself from taking things further with me. It was never about the
promise he made to my father. Still, it hurt so much more now that Bridget was
confirming they indeed had a thing.

Yanking my arm free from her grasp, I
said sharply, “He didn’t mention a thing about being in a relationship with you
when he was kissing me.”

Bridget pressed her bright, red lips
shut.  They quivered in fury. “That doesn’t matter, because he’ll always
care about me. Seven would never go for someone like you. I understand him far
more than you ever could.”

She spun on her heels and strutted down
the hallway. Her words reinforced what I already knew. Indeed, Seven and I were
from different worlds. He would never start anything with me. I was the
daughter of Cole Vanderson’s mistress. They’d already plastered an invisible
scarlet letter on my mother. Seven being with me would be too embarrassing
among his crowd.

Hopefully, Marlene would have the papers
ready for me to sign once I returned to the estate, because I was just about
ready to call it quits, get my stuff, and take the next train back to New York.
My feelings for Seven were too strong to handle. I couldn’t stand not being
with him.

When I walked into Aunt Bev’s office she
read the gloomy expression on my face. Picking up on the tension between me and
Seven, she asked Gavin to give me a ride home instead. I wasn’t too happy about
that since he had a thing for Mackenzie and I also felt like a bum being driven
around.

“So, where to?” he asked as we got in
his jeep.

“The Vanderson estate.”

Looking over at me quizzically, he
asked, “Why are you going there?”

I released an awkward chortle. “That’s
where I’m staying.”

“Oh,” he turned the key and started the
engine. “I didn’t…know that.”

I dismissed the surprised tone in his
voice as he pulled out of the company parking lot and onto the street.

During the drive, I noticed Gavin
glancing over at me from time to time. Then he began drumming on the steering
wheel to a Calvin Harris song on the radio. I muffled a laugh as he imitated the
singer’s voice.

When Gavin hit a falsetto, I couldn’t
hold it back anymore. A loud laugh exploded from my belly up. He spun quickly
to scold me.

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry.” I held my stomach as I
continued to laugh. “That was just too funny.”

Gavin lifted a hand to his chest and
pouted. “Oh Julian, that hurts my feelings. I was actually considering
auditioning for
The Voice
, but your mocking doesn’t give me much
confidence.”

I laughed even more. “Please don’t. Not
a single one of those coaches will turn their chairs for you.”

“Wow!” he blurted out. “You’re harsh.
You don’t mince your words, do you?”

Shaking my head, I tried to compose
myself as I answered, “No. I’m always honest.”

“That’s good. I like honest people.”

My laughter fizzled in the air
completely when Gavin switched the topic. “That was crazy, huh, when Seven and
his father were mentioned in the last message of a man that’s been murdered?”

I looked straight ahead as an
uncomfortable feeling started to rise in my stomach.

“Yeah, crazy,” I muttered.

“Hmm…especially since you like him.”

I twisted and met his gaze. Gavin
flashed me a quick grin before turning his eyes back on the road.

“I don’t—”

“You
don’t
like him?” Gavin
raised his brows and shook his head. “Tsk-tsk, Julian, I thought you were always
honest.”

I gulped. “What I mean is, I do like
him, as a person.”

He burst out with a sarcastic laugh.
“Maybe you
are
just like your sister, trying hard to hide how you really
feel.”

“What is it with you and her anyway?”
I’d been curious about their relationship—if they even had one.

Gavin tightened his grip on the
steering. “I
liked
Mackenzie, a lot. She’s the first girl I wanted to
get serious with.”

“So?” I urged him on.

“So, she kept pushing me away.” He came
to a stop at the lights. “No matter what I did to make her happy, she wouldn’t
give us a chance.”

It seemed like he really cared a lot
about Mackenzie. I wondered why she never reciprocated those feelings.

As the lights changed to green, he
continued on Boston Neck Road and I asked, “How long have you two
been…friends?”

Gavin smiled and sank into the seat.
“I’ve known her for years. Kenzie and I went to the same schools. We basically
grew up together. And when she decided to stay in Rhode Island and go to
university here, I did the same. I just wanted to be near her.”

His feelings for her sounded really
intense, almost creepy. Then again, who was I to judge when I probably would’ve
done that and more for Clyde. When we started dating, I thought I’d die if I
went a day without seeing him. Now that I had the chance to seriously reflect
on our relationship, it wasn’t as deep as I’d thought.

“So, are you staying for the annual
company dinner after all?” he drew me out of my thoughts.

“I’m not sure, things might work out
that I don’t stay after this week.”

“That’s too bad,” he murmured.

Looking out the windshield, I noticed
Gavin drove past the waterfront community. I assumed he’d simply missed the
turn off.  

“Oh, the estate was back there.”

“I know,” he grinned.

“Okay…where are you taking me?” I asked
in an apprehensive tone.