Man Who Loved Pride and Prejudice (49 page)

   "No multivariate analysis of covariance?"

   Was Joe
teasing
her? It reminded her of the night she gave Calder the tour of the lab. If there were marinara cooking on the Bunsen burner, the scene would be complete. She wondered how Joe would deal with squid. "Not until his data is collected. First things first."

   There was a knock at the door. It was Ella Connors from the administrative office and someone Cassie vaguely recognized from public relations. "Cassie? Are we early?" Ella asked.

   "Early?" Cassie had no idea what she was talking about.

   Joe strode forward. "You must be here to give me the tour. I'm Joe Westing." He held out his hand.

   "Ella Connors, and this is Michael Houtman. Welcome to the MBL, Senator."

   Cassie narrowed her eyes. "I didn't realize this was an official visit, Joe," she said in her sweetest voice.

   A smile touched his lips. "That's why I'm here. The Senate Budget Committee is interested in how the National Science Foundation funds are being used."

   "Joe," she said warningly. "Don't even start."

   "Start what?" He sounded as if he couldn't imagine what she was talking about.

   The director of the MBL appeared in the doorway. Ella performed the introductions.

   Next it would be dancing girls. Cassie propelled herself forward. "Joe, I hope you enjoy your tour. Make sure they show you the display on the
evolution
of whales. It's particularly interesting."

   He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it is."

   The director frowned at her. "Won't you come this way, Senator?"

   "Thank you." Joe started to follow him out the door. "I'll see you later, Cassie."

   She watched as they disappeared and their footsteps echoed down the hall. She could feel Chris's eyes on her back. Shaking her head, she said, "I miss having a dull life."

Calder paced back and forth in the small space between the lab benches. "Maybe he isn't coming back here after the tour."

   Cassie eyed him sympathetically, even though it was the third time he'd said the same thing in the last half hour. "Maybe not, but why don't we give him another few minutes anyway?"

   As if on cue, the stairway door banged as someone let it fall closed. All the researchers knew to close it gently. A sudden noise could ruin careful experiments.

   Joe strolled in and closed the door behind him, looking as if he owned the lab. He flashed a smile at Calder. "I wondered whether you'd make your way over here."

   "Cassie said you were here." Calder's face gave no indication of his feelings.

   "So, you think you can do better running against me than with me."

   "That's right." Calder sounded as if he were discussing the weather rather than stepping on an unexploded bomb.

   Joe nodded at Cassie. "See, I told you so."

   Cassie smiled with an excess of sweetness. "I don't know politics. I just know what I like."

   "It's clever," Joe continued, as if Cassie had said nothing. "It has possibilities."

   Calder crossed his arms. "You think so?"

   "Gets a lot more attention this way, no question. Reporters coming after you much?"

   "I don't talk to them. I'm a writer, not a politician."

   "So
that's
what you're playing." Joe nodded sagely as if he had solved a mystery. "You're going for the big game, aren't you? Well, good. Make them drag you in kicking and screaming. Voters will eat it up." He checked his watch. "That should be long enough. Let's go out." He held open the door and gestured to Cassie to go through.

   She studied his face for a minute before deciding to comply with the implied order. She didn't trust this new, mellow Joe Westing. "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

   He gave a secretive smile. "Just out."

   She passed him cautiously, waiting in the hall for Calder to join her. Joe whistled a tune as he led the way to the stairs. When they reached the first floor, Cassie saw a crowd on the steps outside. Lots of cameras. There wasn't much press in Woods Hole that could be called out on an hour's notice. Someone must have tipped them off that Joe was coming.

   Joe stopped just short of the door and turned to Calder. "Are you ready?"

   Calder's eyes flickered toward Cassie. "As ready as I'll ever be."

   "Good." Joe pushed open the door and then paused on the steps as flashbulbs went off. He put his hand on Calder's shoulder. "No fun for you today, boys," he said to the reporters. "Calder's coming back to the family and the Republican fold."

   Calder looked stunned, and then he stepped forward into a barrage of flashes. "That isn't true. I'll always be a Westing, but that doesn't mean that I can't hold my own political views. And act on them."

   Joe turned to him with a frown and said in a low but threatening voice, "There's never been a damn Democrat in the Westing family, and there never will be."

   "I'm sorry you don't like it. I respect you and what you've done with your career. But my life is my own, not hostage to some idea of the Westing family heritage."

   "You're really going to do it." Joe stepped back as if in disbelief. "You're going to turn traitor to your own family. I suppose your
wife
put you up to this. I told you she'd be no good for you."

   Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but Calder's hand descended on her arm, gripping it tightly. She supposed he must know what he was doing. Heaven help them, the reporters were getting every word of this. She didn't want to think about what tonight's news would say.

   "I'll thank you to leave Cassie out of this," Calder said calmly. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me."

   "You don't care that you're hurting your brother's career. Breaking your mother's heart. You don't care about any of us." Joe's voice was getting louder and full of outrage.

   "I trust that they love me enough to accept me for who I am."

   "For who you are? You're a disgrace. A traitor. A liar." Joe stabbed a finger at Calder and spoke slowly and deliberately. "You are not my son."

   Calder flinched. Cassie moved closer to him. How dare Joe do this to him, and in public, too?

   Calder made a visible effort to calm himself. His voice seemed quiet after his father's ranting. "That's for you to decide. But you'll always be my father, no matter what."

   Joe snorted and turned and strode into the crowd of reporters, ignoring their shouted questions. Calder took Cassie's hand, and together they watched as Joe disappeared into his chauffeur-driven car.

   The reporters turned on their new prey. "Mr. Westing, does this mean you plan to run for office?"

   He shook his head. "I'm a writer, not a politician."

   Cassie had the feeling she was going to be hearing that statement a lot.

   Another reporter called out, "Does he mean it? Will he disown you?"

   Calder's face closed. "You'd have to ask him." He took Cassie's hand and headed back into the building.

   When they reached the lab, Cassie put her arms around him, wishing she could take away all the pain his father caused. "I'm so sorry, love. I shouldn't have believed him. I should have realized it was a trick to get at you."

   She felt his chest shaking beneath her cheek. Calder never cried. She was going to kill Joe Westing for this. Slowly, and with a dull knife. Then she realized the sound she was hearing was quiet laughter.

   "No, you were right," Calder said. "He isn't upset with me. That was his idea of a present."

   He had gone out of his mind. That was the only explanation. "Calder, that was verbal abuse, not a present."

   He tipped up her chin and kissed her. "You're not thinking like my father. If I were really running for office as a Democrat, that scene would have won me thousands of votes. The devoted son, disowned for his beliefs. And he laid himself wide open to make me look good."

   "That was an
act?"
She couldn't believe even Joe could fake that level of fury.

   "Of course. You know my father. If he were angry with me, he'd be off somewhere concocting a scheme to get me in line, not yelling at me in public. But…" His voice trailed off.

   "But what?" Cassie stepped back so she could see him better, but held tightly to his hands.

   He wore a look she'd never seen before, an almost pained disbelief. "He knew I'd see through him and play along, even without warning. He may have just disowned me, but it's the first time he's ever treated me like his son."

   "Calder, what are you talking about? That isn't how fathers treat sons."

   "Maybe not in other families. But that was a vote of confidence in me. He was treating me as his political equal, and that's as big a compliment as he'll ever give."

   "Compliments like that I can live without."

   He laughed. "I know the feeling. Say, is there a back way out of this place, or are we stuck here until the reporters give up?"

Cassie had disappeared when they got home, but a few minutes later, Calder found her standing by the fireplace mantel, holding a framed picture. "What's that?" he asked.

   Cassie jumped, apparently startled by his voice. "I just brought this down." She handed it to him.

   He studied the faded photograph in the inlaid wood frame. He'd never seen two of the people in the picture, but he knew who they must be. The background was a crowded school gymnasium. A much younger Cassie was wearing a cap and gown, clutching a scroll. On the other side, an attractive adolescent girl with too much makeup looked bored. Between the two of them, holding their hands, was a towheaded boy with a bright smile that revealed missing front teeth. "Ryan and Maria?"

   Cassie nodded. "That was my high school graduation. We didn't take pictures much because they were so expensive, but Mom was really proud of me. She couldn't understand why I wanted to go to college, but she knew the high school diploma was worth something. And Ryan…" She paused, her eyes far away. "Right after they handed me the diploma, Ryan came racing down the aisle and threw his arms around me. He was so excited, and he wanted to sit with me and the rest of the graduates. So he spent the rest of the time on my lap, wearing my mortarboard. Poor Mom was mortified."

   "Do you have other pictures?"

   "Just this one. There are a few more in Chicago."

   Calder set it on the mantelpiece. "And now it belongs here."

   "Yes. It does." She shook her head slightly, as if clearing it of memories. "I got a letter from Ryan yesterday. He says it's nice that the prison commissary keeps making mistakes in his favor, but he hopes I'm not going to get myself in trouble. It's something, I guess."

   Nobska whined and scratched at the door, as if he knew the moment needed lightening. Cassie smiled ruefully and said, "I'll take him out." The dog darted through the door as soon as she opened it.

   "Okay. I'd better call my mother and warn her what's going to be on the evening news."

   "Say hello for me," Cassie said as she disappeared out the door.