Kiss and Tell (19 page)

“Where are you going, Adam? What will you do?” Adam heard the fear in his sister's voice, but he turned a deaf ear.

“For starters, I'm going to see Mom. After that, I'm going to wait for someone to come arrest me.”

“Stop being so damn dramatic. Mom! Is that what you said? Where is she? How can you go to see her after she walked out on us? Where's your loyalty, you bastard?”

“Not with our father, that's for sure. I'm only telling you this in the interest of full disclosure. Something you need to think about when they come after you. At that point, it will be all about full disclosure. You need to start practicing now.

“As for Mom, has it never occurred to you that there are two sides to every story? We only ever heard one side, Pop's side. And he was anything but impartial on the topic of Mom's departure. And if his history with trophy wives number one, two, and three is any indication, I find no reason to believe that what he had to say about Mom was even close to the truth. To make a long story short, I think it's long past the time that we get her side of it.”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing. After all this time, now—when you say things are going to get tough—you want to run to Mommy. What do you think she's going to do for you, Adam?”

Adam smiled. He repeated the same words to his sister that had so stunned his father. “I'm hoping she'll give me a hug.” If he hadn't been watching his sister's face so intently he would have missed the way her face started to crumple. “Do you want to come with me?”

Ava sucked in her breath, got out of the car, whirled around, and stalked to the entrance of the building that housed the rattrap offices of Macklin Investments.

“Guess that's a no,” Adam muttered as a horn blared behind him. He pulled out into traffic. Next stop: his mother's house.

 

 

Adam turned on his GPS, which he had programmed earlier. It was a cheap, crappy, old Garmin unit he'd installed himself on his old car. But it didn't matter since it did the trick as far as he was concerned.

His thoughts were all over the map as he made his way to his mother's house. What would his sister do now? What was his father going to do? He cringed when he thought about the upcoming arrests, which were inevitable, and how his sister and father would handle things. Just last week, he'd read something on Page Six that said his father's latest trophy—read bimbo—had left for Argentina and would file for divorce. He wondered if his father even knew she'd left.

After the news snippet ran, she had called the office and said the same thing and asked Adam to give his father the message. It was in the pile of pink slips on his desk. Adam did not think it important enough to treat it any differently than all the other messages he had been bombarded with.

Then again, maybe his father had actually paid her to go. Her shelf life was probably up. And that led him to think about his own longtime girlfriend and his inability to commit to her. When she'd gone eyeball to eyeball with him, and said, “Admit it, Adam, I'm just a booty call,” he knew it was over. They'd parted friends, and she had gone home to her parents in Alabama. He was glad now. Caroline was too nice to be involved in what was going to go down in the coming days. Better she be with her family. They'd never find her in the little town she'd grown up in. At least he hoped they wouldn't.

Adam could feel the nervousness creeping through his system. What if his mother wasn't home? What if she wouldn't let him in to talk to her? What would he do then?

Then I'll just sit outside until she does
, he thought.
Even if I freeze to death.

The robotic voice coming from the dashboard announced that he had arrived at his destination, jarring him out of his pessimistic thoughts. His intention had been to park on the street, but the snow was piled too high, taking up too much room on both sides of the street. Instead, he pulled into her driveway, which looked like it had been freshly shoveled and salted. He looked around before he cut off the engine.

His mother lived in what looked like a quiet neighborhood, with big trees that would be like giant umbrellas when they came into leaf in the spring. He closed his eyes for a moment as he visualized kids on bikes and roller skaters whizzing down the walkways, with dogs barking in their wake. Then they'd all go home to some kid's house, and a doting mother would pour lemonade and hand out cookies and maybe Popsicles. Cherry Popsicles, his favorite from childhood. He wished he were a kid again. If he could just turn back the clock.

Adam took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. He pulled his heavy jacket close to his chin and, with his head down, ran across the driveway to a brick path that he just knew in the spring would be bordered in flowers. His mother had always loved flowers. The snow flurries had turned to sleet and were beating at him like tiny pinpricks.

His hand was shaking so badly, it took Adam three times before he hit the tiny button that would ring the bell inside. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until it exploded out of his mouth like a gunshot. He sucked in his breath again, his eyes on the doorknob. It was moving. In a second he was finally going to see his mother. He wanted to cry in relief. And then she was standing framed in the doorway, looking just the way he remembered.

“Addy! Is it really you?” His childhood nickname, a name only his mother called him. He felt weak at the sound of it.

Adam could barely make his tongue work. “It's me, Mom. Can I come in?”

“Good Lord, of course you can come in. It's freezing out there.” And then she was hugging him and crying and he was crying. They clung to each other, wondering how this miracle had finally happened.

“Oh Addy, how did you find me?” Mary said, wiping her eyes on her apron.

“It doesn't matter. I found you; that's all that is important. I don't want you to think I never tried before. I did. Pop said he hired private detectives to try to locate you after you left, but that they came up blank. I know now he lied. Mom, I thought about you every single day of my life since you left. I'm in a boatload of trouble, Mom. But that's not why I'm here. I just wanted to see you.”

Mary gave her son one more bone-crushing hug and kissed him on his cheeks. “Here, let me hang up your coat. Come along to the kitchen. I was just getting ready to have some lunch. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I'm starved,” Adam said as he trailed behind his mother. He was aware of a cheerful fire coming from a brick wall. He saw shelves of books; deep, comfortable furniture; lots of windows; and soft carpeting. Later, he hoped his mother would give him a tour of her house.

He was unprepared for the kitchen, and yet he should have known it would reflect his mother. He looked at everything and closed his eyes, burning the room into his memory. “This is really nice,” he said, sitting down at an old oak table with claw feet. He was facing a huge bay window where luscious, healthy-looking ferns hung from a beam directly overhead.

“Turkey soup and turkey sandwiches. And apple pie. You know how it is with Thanksgiving turkeys. You eat off them for days. Today is my last day.”

Adam frowned. “Thanksgiving? When was Thanksgiving?”

“Last Thursday, Addy.”

“Guess I missed it. I was working. Well, not actually working. I was trying to . . . it doesn't matter. It smells good even if it is four days old. How are you, Mom?”

“Good now that you're here sitting at my table. I missed you, Addy. And Ava.”

No more lies. “I picked her up at the airport. I told her I was coming here and asked if she wanted to come. She said no. Ava . . . Ava . . . she changed. All that money went to her head. I'm not sure you'd recognize her these days.”

“It's all right, Addy. You're here. Now eat your soup and that nice sandwich. And then we can talk about what brought you here.”

“How did this happen?” Adam said, waving his arm about.

“When I left, I had nowhere to go, so I came here. This was my brother Lowell's house. Lowell was my half brother and quite a bit older. We had the same mother but different fathers. He took me in; and then, a few years ago, Lowell got sick, and I took care of him. When he passed, he left all this to me. He was a good man. A shy man with few friends. I guess you could call him a recluse. I got him out and about, and we had a pleasant life until he passed. He made sure he provided for me because he knew I wouldn't take a penny from your father. Little by little over the years I changed the house from a bachelor's home to what you see now. Lowell loved it. He would sit here for hours at the kitchen table, doing his crossword puzzles. I still miss him.”

Adam held out his bowl. “Can I have some more?”

“Is it that good?” Mary laughed.

“It is that good.” Adam laughed, too. He couldn't remember when he'd laughed last. It felt good. “Do you work, Mom?”

“I work one day a week in a bakery in town. I help out at the church. I do a lot of volunteer work. It all works for me. I belong to a bridge club. I made a pleasant life for myself. At first it was hard. I missed you and Ava so much. That was my only regret when I left, but you were in college, and Ava was getting ready to leave for college. I had to leave, Addy. Once I . . . That's for another time. Let's just enjoy each other for the moment. Are you married? Do you have children?” she asked wistfully.

Adam shook his head. “No, I was married to the business and to Pop. I did have a girlfriend for a long time, but she got fed up with me a little while ago and dumped me since the relationship wasn't going anywhere. Returned to Alabama, where her parents live. It was for the best. Ava never got married, either. Pop, on the other hand, hit the altar a few more times, three to be exact. The last one called the office last week and said to tell Pop she was returning to Argentina and would file for divorce. I left him a note. I'm pretty sure he hasn't seen it yet.”

Mary smiled, then laughed out loud. Adam threw back his head and joined her. Almost like old times.

Mary wiped at her eyes as she stared at her son. Yes, he was older, but he had the same clear blue eyes and long lashes girls would die for. His unruly dark hair was a little too long and just as curly. Strong jaw, beautiful smile. She remembered the braces he'd worn when he was younger and how he hated them. The beautiful smile was the result of those braces. He was tall, six foot two. She wasn't sure, but she thought he probably weighed as much as her neighbor Pete, which would be around 180. Her son. And she loved him. Would always love him. No matter what.

And here he was sitting at her kitchen table. It was something she'd thought she would never live to see. Her cup runneth over.

“Coffee and pie, Addy?”

“Absolutely. Do you still put the raisins and nuts in it?”

Mary nodded as she cut a thick wedge of pie. “Ice cream?” Adam nodded.

“Let's go into the family room and eat our dessert by the fire. I like having dessert in there with a fire going. I watch the news in the evening. We can talk instead of watching the midday news. Would you like that?”

“Yeah, Mom, I would.”

“Oh my, would you look outside. It's snowing again. Earlier, it was just flurrying. You might have to stay over unless you absolutely have to be somewhere.”

“Are you serious, Mom? Can I stay here? I was going to ask, but I figured I better wait to see how you felt after I told you what I came here for.”

“Addy, you can stay here forever if you want. I would never turn you away. You should know that. In fact, you're about Lowell's size. I bought him a lot of new clothes before he passed that he never got to wear. They're all in garment bags in one of the guest rooms. I can outfit you from the skin out,” Mary said happily.

Mother and son settled into two companion chairs in front of the fire. Within seconds Winnie came out of nowhere and leaped onto Adam's lap, to his delight. Now it was perfect, just perfect. The plump cat settled and began to purr loudly.

“You should be pleased with yourself, Addy. Winnie doesn't take to strangers. Guess she likes you. Of course, she is eyeing up that pie on your plate.”

A pleasant hour passed until the coffee cups were drained and the plates empty. Mary collected them and set them on the hearth after adding two logs to the fire.

“Talk to me, Son. Tell me everything, and let's see what we can do to make it better.”

“T
his is really nice, Mom,” Adam said. “I always like a fire. Not that I've had time to sit in front of one very much. I'm having trouble believing I'm here and that we're talking and that you didn't tell me to get lost. I swear to God, Mom. I tried to find you. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth. We lost so many years. I can't believe Pop did that. That's something, among a whole list of other things, that I will never forgive him for. I know that Ava feels the same way even if she won't admit it. She'll come around, Mom, you'll see.”

Mary listened as her long-lost son rambled on, knowing it was just a nervous reaction to what he had come here to say. She hoped when it finally came her time to speak that she would have all the right words for her tormented son. She stared into the fire as Adam talked about his small garden apartment, his twelve-year-old car, and how he had never spent any of the money his father put into his brokerage account. “It was blood money,” she heard him say. “I couldn't spend it. It's all there. I have my own account. Remember, Mom, when we were kids you opened accounts for each of us at school, and all my birthday money and Easter and Christmas money went in there. I kept the account when I worked summers and when I was in college. Then, when I graduated and went to work on Wall Street, I switched the account to a brokerage house and saved and invested just the way you taught us. Remember what you said? A rainy day will come, and you're going to need it. Well, Mom, the rainy day is here, and I am so glad I listened to you. I invested aggressively but wisely.

I have over $2 million of my own
legal
money. And a large part of it is going to be used to pay a good lawyer. I'm just babbling here. Okay, here we go.”

Mary folded her hands in her lap as she listened to her son detail his life from the moment his father had laid a guilt trip on him and forced him to go to work for him. She felt sick to her stomach at what she was hearing. She wished he would stop, wanted him to stop, but she couldn't make her tongue work.

The small, ornate clock on the mantel, which Mary could see from her chair, said her son had been talking nonstop for almost two hours. Twice, she'd gotten up to add a log to the fire, but he'd barely noticed.

“That's it,” he finally said. “I have an appointment with my lawyer tomorrow morning at 9:00. I'll have him make appointments with the SEC and the FBI. If we can't get in to talk to them tomorrow, then surely the day after, which is Wednesday. I don't want to drag my feet on this. I'm going to confess all of it. I helped, I did it, I own it. I tried to warn Ava. I don't know what she's going to do. She's always been about the money, so I'm not hopeful. I can't live with this anymore, Mom. I just can't.”

This was so much worse than what she had expected, Mary thought. She couldn't pretend not to be upset. She was upset. She hated the way Adam was looking at her like she was going to pull a magic rabbit out of a nonexistent hat. All she could think of at the moment were trips to some federal prison once a week, taking baked goods and home-cooked food to her son if it was allowed. Maybe she would have to move, to be closer to the prison in which he was incarcerated. Her stomach heaved at the thought.

“Are you going to say something, Mom?” Mary cleared her throat and stared for a moment into the fire, hoping for some insight. “You made mistakes. We all make mistakes in life, but the ones you made are a lot more serious than most. The fact that you're willing to stand up now and do the right thing will hopefully count in your favor. You do realize, don't you, that you will be a whistle-blower? That is not a bad thing. When you go to the FBI, I will go with you. I need to do some confessing of my own. I knew years and years ago, but I never did anything about it. I'm just as guilty as you are.”

“Hell, Mom, that doesn't count. You just had suspicions. You had no way of knowing what Pop was really doing. You're off the hook on that, trust me.”

“I knew enough to know there were two sets of books. The real set and the doctored-up set. I can read balance sheets, Addy. It's time for me to confess, too.

“Now, I have something to tell you. This morning, bright and early, before the snow started to really come down, I had two ladies visit me. They said they were hired by two other ladies, named Sara and Tressie. They were older ladies, much like me. They were very well-known a few years ago as the Vigilantes. I'm sure you heard or read about them. I'm not sure about this, but I am assuming they came out of retirement to, ah . . . take care of your father. I also gathered it would not be done in a way that observed the legal niceties, although neither woman came out and said that. I do believe they have a plan in place. They wanted whatever background I could give them, and I told them what I knew from those early days. They already knew about you and Ava.”

Adam's eyes almost bugged out of his head at his mother's words. Then he shrugged. “Everything happens for a reason. Isn't that what you always said? My coming here right after them, not having a clue about their visit or what their plans are. My finally making the decision to blow the whistle. Kind of scary when you think about it. Did they give you any clue about whatever it is they plan to do?”

“No, but I got the impression it was going to be sooner rather than later. In other words, the ladies are on it. I have to say that I used to follow their activities, as did every living, breathing woman, and some men, I'm sure, while they were actively righting the wrongs of the world. I was transfixed by them. I even donated money to every cause they endorsed.

“Now I have a question for you. I told the ladies what I know about this, which is almost nothing. One time shortly after serious money started flowing into your father's bank account, I looked in his check register and saw six months of entries marked simply as
RENT
. I never said anything to your father or asked him any questions because I didn't want to admit that I had been snooping. Do you know anything about that? Back then, it was quite a bit of money. And it was in New York.”

Adam shook his head. “Ava might know, but I sure don't. Pop has always been secretive, you know that better than I do. Sometimes, I think Ava has the skinny on everything; then there are other times I think she's in the dark about most of it. Secretive and frugal. The frugal part is all a facade. He dresses in polyester, wears cheap shoes, cheap shirts. Makes a point out of saying he buys his suits at JC Penney and his shoes at a discount store. He tells everyone he doesn't believe in frills and accoutrements. Yet I've seen rows of Savile Row suits in his closet, silk monogrammed shirts. Hermès ties, and John Lobb and Bruno Maglia shoes. I have no clue where he wears all that stuff. From start to finish, he's as phony as a three-dollar bill. If you want me to take a guess, I'd say that's where he houses his
other people
, his silent partners. By no stretch of the imagination can what he is doing be a one-man operation. Oh yeah, he touted Ava and me, but we were nothing more than glorified office help, even though Ava's title is chief compliance officer, for God's sake. What a joke. The only rule Macklin Investments ever complied with was the one that said that, by hook or by crook, Emanuel Macklin was to be made as rich as Croesus.”

Mary just shook her head. “Addy, why did you wait so long? Why didn't you do something sooner?”

Adam shrugged. “That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, Mom, isn't it? I don't know. The best I can come up with is, he's my father. I did what I could behind the scenes, trying to make things as difficult as I could for him and better for the investor, but he was always one or two steps ahead of me. If he even had a clue about what I was doing, he never let on. Sometimes it worked, but most other times, it didn't. Two years ago, when he got all fired up about his newest project, one across the pond, which had been in the works for years before that, it finally hit home. I'm sure you've read about that new-age city he wants to build someplace outside London. He says it will top his crown jewel. It was two years ago that he finally started raising the funds for it, and nothing has been done in the way of construction. He's collected billions from his investors, and rumor has it that the Queen of England and Prince Philip ponied up beaucoup bucks. Something is awry, but I don't know what it is.”

“Addy, do you know what your father is worth these days?”

“Billions, Mom. That's billions with a B.”

“With all you've told me and all that has been going on, aren't you fearful he'll abscond? Just disappear?”

“Not as long as there's another sucker standing in line, and he has one right now that he said will keep his investors happy for another few years. It's called WELMED. He's hoping to sign him up tomorrow. I think that's what he said.”

“That kind of falls into place with what the ladies told me earlier this morning. Something is going to happen in the next day or so. At least that's the impression they left me with. I don't think I'm wrong about that, Addy. Maybe they're setting him up with the WELMED thing. Those ladies are not only wicked; they are wily. I can say in all confidence that your father is no match for them. They will clean his clock, and he will never know what hit him.”

“One can only hope.” Adam yawned, then yawned again.

“You look tired, Son. Come along, I'll show you to your room, and you can take a nap. When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?”

“Like forever ago. Are you sure you don't mind?”

“Good heavens, no, I do not mind. We can talk the night away. Come along, then. Winnie loves it when I nap during the day. I'm sure she'll keep you company. Is there anything special you'd like for dinner?”

At the landing on the staircase to the second floor, Mary parted the curtains. “Mercy, would you look at that snow coming down. Well, we don't have to be anywhere today, so we're safe and sound. My neighbor has a snowblower, and he'll clear everything up nice and tidy again. I'm sure you'll be able to get out to go to your lawyer's in the morning.”

“Spaghetti. Or is that too much trouble? I used to love snow when I was a kid. You'd take us to Central Park, we'd get our mittens wet, and there was that time you pulled some old socks out of your bag, and we used them as mittens. I still remember that,” Adam said, sadness ringing in his voice.

Good Lord, the boy remembered the socks. She'd forgotten about that until Adam had reminded her just now. “I do remember that. I do not mind one little bit,” Mary said happily. “I love to cook. Meat sauce or meatballs?”

“Both,” Adam said smartly. “Garlic bread?”

“Absolutely,” Mary responded. Adam sighed.

Mary opened the door to a pretty room that was neither feminine nor manly. It was done in soft, neutral plaids, easy and pleasant on the eyes. The bed was a king-size four-poster with big, plump pillows. Creamy off-white curtains cut the glare from the mesmerizing white outside. Ankle-high carpeting hugged his ankles. “This room has its own bathroom. Everything you can possibly need is either in the closet, the dressers, or the bathroom. Rest, Adam. You have your head on straight now, and you are doing the right thing. I'll be right beside you every step of the way, for whatever good that will do you.”

Adam swallowed hard and hugged his mother. The door closed softly behind her. He looked down to see the fat cat rubbing against his ankles and purring. He smiled and looked around. He could stay here forever. He eyed the deep, comfortable chair in the corner, with the reading lamp next to it. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that the chair and lamp had belonged to his uncle Lowell. God, he was tired, but not so tired he didn't want to be a kid again for all of ten seconds. That's all it took for him to run across the room and leap up onto the four-poster. Winnie meowed as she leaped up right behind him. The moment Adam's head hit the pillow, he was sound asleep. It would, as he would say later to his mother, be the
bestest,
soundest, most welcoming sleep he'd had in years. Because that's what he used to say when he woke in the morning when he was a kid without a problem in the world.

 

 

While Adam Macklin was sleeping peacefully at his mother's house, his father was going toe to toe with his attorney. They were snapping and snarling at each other. Then each of them threatened the other. After that, three of the law firm's other senior partners were called in to the conference room, where more snapping and snarling took place, with Emanuel Macklin barking the words any lawyer hates to hear. “If I go down, I'll make damn sure you go down right along with me. I made each and every one of you bastards fucking rich. Don't even think about telling me I'm going to jail. Fix the damn SEC and the FBI. You told me a thousand times that this firm could fix anything. Well, put up or shut up, and you know I mean it. Rest assured,” he repeated, his voice rising, “that if I go down, you go down, every last goddamn one of you. Move your asses, starting now, and do not—I repeat, Asa—do not ever threaten me again. If you do, you'll live to regret it. If you live at all. Are we clear on all this, gentlemen?”

Not one of the lawyers spoke, but they all nodded.

Macklin heaved himself out of his chair and stood up. There wasn't even a thought about shaking hands. He turned around and stomped out of the plush offices of his thousand-dollar-an-hour lawyers.

Confident that his orders would be obeyed with a successful outcome, Macklin took the elevator down and walked out to the lobby. His phone chirped in his pocket—Ava. He clicked it on and listened to his daughter's frightened voice telling him she was sitting in Adam's chair in Adam's office because Adam had quit and was going to blow the whistle on Macklin Investments. “What are we going to do, Daddy? I'm scared. Where are you? Can you come here right now?”