No Safe Secret (8 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: No Safe Secret
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Molly placed a comforting hand on the older woman's shoulder. “Thanks for caring, but really, I'm fine. The kids are here,” she added. “I have to make sure Kristen is properly packed. You know how she is. She's likely to forget her undies.” Molly smiled, wanting to reassure Sally that she really would be just fine.
“If you're sure, then I'll go on, but if you need me in the morning, just call. I won't be doing anything around my house. Roger is visiting his brother in Maine. He didn't say when he was returning, so I'm gonna enjoy having some time away from the old man.”
Molly sighed, wishing she could trade places with Sally. “Then go on and enjoy your time alone. Take the next few days off. Once I get Kristen on that plane, there won't be anything for either of us to do here. I plan to catch up on some reading, maybe watch a few movies.”
Molly hoped she sounded surer of her plans than she felt. Something was nagging at her and had been all evening. And it wasn't just Tanner's usual hatefulness. No, it was something more. She needed to think. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. “Now, go on before I change my mind.” Molly gave her a hug and walked outside with her to the old clunker parked in front of the house.
“Thanks, Miss Molly. You need me, I'm here,” Sally reminded her.
Molly nodded, smiled, and closed the driver's door. She waved at Sally. A feeling of sadness overwhelmed her as she watched her taillights fade into two small pinpricks of red light. She stood at the edge of the lawn a few more minutes, then went inside, where she found Tanner waiting in the kitchen.
“Where in the hell have you been? You can't just walk out of here when we have a houseful of guests. Who the hell do you think you are?” Tanner grabbed her arm, squeezing so tightly she knew there would be bruises tomorrow.
Taking a deep breath, not wanting him to see how frightened she was, she replied, “I walked Sally out to her car. She was nervous. It's dark outside.” She wanted to lie, to tell him Sally was frightened of her husband, too, but she didn't. She'd already stirred the pot one time too many tonight. “Please let go of me, Tanner,” she said in as calm a voice as she could summon.
He released his grip and stepped away. “Get back in here and help me convince these men to invest their money in me. In us, Molly. Our future. The kids' futures.” His glance softened when he spoke. “Please.”
He was crazy. Of that Molly was certain. One minute he was about to twist her arm off, and the next, he looked like a little boy on the verge of crying. “Why?”
He clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening. His facial expression instantly went from sappy to angry. “Don't you ever ask me that again. Do you understand?”
Molly backed up against the sink, more frightened than she'd been all night.
“Sure, Tanner. Whatever you want.”
“Let's go back into the living room together. It'll look better,” Tanner suggested. In an amiable tone, he whispered. “I'm sorry, Molly.”
She simply nodded and wondered who he was sorry for. He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the living room. Their guests appeared content, gathered in small groups in the formal living room. At the end of the room was yet another bar. Molly was sure this one was fully stocked, as she'd done it herself a few days ago when Sally was dusting the shelves. She saw Tanner's favorite bourbon. The bottle was almost empty. Molly hoped Tanner hadn't consumed that much. He was already acting like a beast with the booze she'd seen him drink. Add more, and the beast became more like a barbarian.
Feeling like a guest in her own home, Molly saw Carolina Marsden and Dianna Kent huddled together in a far corner of the room. Knowing Tanner wanted her to mingle and make the wives happy, so they could convince their husbands to invest in Tanner's clinic, she walked over to the women. “Can I get either of you a drink? Maybe a soft drink or an iced tea?” She guessed that both were probably teetotalers.
“Thanks, I would love a Coke if you have one,” Carolina said.
Molly turned to Dianna. “Mrs. Kent?” God, she hated this evening and couldn't wait for it to end. She felt like a waitress.
Going back to her roots.
“A Coke sounds good,” the woman finally said. Molly smiled. “It does, doesn't it? I'll be right back.” Before she had to indulge in any more useless chatter, she hurried to the kitchen. In the refrigerator, she removed three cans of Coke, filled three tall glasses with ice, placing them on another serving tray. Again, she was playing the role of waitress, servant, hostess, whatever one called it these days. She hoisted the tray on her shoulder as she'd done all those years ago at Lou's. In the past few weeks, she'd begun to think of her time spent at Lou's as “the good old days.” Odd, how one's perspective can suddenly change.
Almost at the speed of light
, she thought sourly.
She set the tray down on the table in front of the two chairs where Dianna and Carolina were now seated. She pulled the tab on one of the cans. The liquid hissed as it met the ice. “Here you go,” she said, placing two glasses on the table. She poured her own, then took a big drink. Her mouth was dry from nerves. She glanced at her arm, where Tanner's fingers had dug into her skin. Thankfully, there was nothing too visible, except for the red marks his fingers had made. “So, tell me about the trips you have planned.” Molly directed her remarks to Dianna since she and Dr. Kent were retiring soon. Just making conversation. Didn't matter. As long as she obeyed. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Tanner. He was watching her.
“I think we're going to start with a cruise. Albert says it will be relaxing, and we need to get used to that first.” Dianna took a sip of her Coke. “I'm not crazy about spending four weeks on a ship. Hearing about all those people that turn up missing, well, I would rather do something else. Maybe a safari.”
“Then you should,” Molly encouraged.
Dianna stared at her incredulously. “I wouldn't think of it. Albert deserves this. He's worked his entire life.”
“And you haven't?” Carolina joined the conversation.
One for the team, Molly thought as she waited for Dianna's response.
“Yes, but . . . my job. I was just a teacher.”

Just
a teacher? That's one of the most important careers, bar none. Without good teachers, we wouldn't have doctors, dentists. I think you should tell your husband you don't want to go on a cruise. I'm sure he would take your feelings into consideration,” Carolina continued, though her tone was softer and quiet. Almost caring.
“I think you should, too,” Molly added as a show of support for something she truly didn't give a rat's ass about. If Dianna wanted to kiss her husband's royal rear end, then let her do it to her heart's content.
Then a little voice inside her piped up.
Isn't this what you've been doing for almost twenty years?
No
, she thought,
it was more than that.
Survival. She'd had to survive.
Dianna shook her head. “I'm sure a cruise will be just as relaxing as Albert says. He's rarely wrong.” She smiled and took another sip of her Coke.
“You must take lots of pictures then,” Molly suggested. She was in the same club, so she might as well participate.
She'd no more had the thought when a crashing noise from above silenced everyone in the room.
“What the hell?” Tanner shouted as he ran upstairs. Molly followed behind, not caring that their guests were instantly hushed.
At the top of the stairs, Graham was huffing; his thick black hair stood wildly on end, and his eyes were almost double in size. He wore nothing except a pair of tattered jeans. His breathing was loud, labored.
“What in the hell is going on?” Tanner whispered harshly.
Graham turned his back on them. Tanner followed him into his bedroom, with Molly trailing behind, her heart beating so fast she feared she'd have a heart attack.
Dirty clothes were tossed in piles all over the room. The floor was barely visible. Books, magazines, beer bottles, and an empty pizza box added to the array of filth. A laptop lay open on the bed with an explicit sexual image so disturbing, a jolt from the past hurtled through her brain. Molly closed her eyes, stopping in the middle of the room.
“I asked you what's going on?” Tanner said, his voice rising a notch.
Graham had yet to answer, though this time he walked to the side of the bed that wasn't visible from where they stood and pointed to Holden, who was lying on the floor. “He's stoned.”
“Damn!” Tanner said, then stooped down to lift Holden, another perfect match of himself, and tossed his limp body on top of the unmade bed. He placed a fingertip to his neck to check for a pulse.
“What's he on? What was that noise?” Tanner yanked Graham's arm. “Speak up, goddammit!”
Molly remained silent but assumed Holden was alive since Tanner hadn't started CPR or called 911.
“What the hell, how should I know?” Graham finally answered. “Get your goddamn hands off me!”
Tanner released his grip and turned his attention to Holden, who was, incongruously, wearing black dress slacks and a pale blue shirt. If one didn't know the circumstances, one would believe Holden to be a young businessman who'd simply fallen asleep. Tanner rifled through his pockets, tossing his wallet and keys on the floor. In his front pocket he removed a bubble packet of tablets. “What's this?” he asked, turning around to look at Graham.
“You're a doctor, Dad, figure it out.”
Tanner squinted at the packet, then whirled around and slapped
Molly
in the face. Stunned at the unexpected blow, she barely felt the sting. At a complete loss for words, she stood in the center of Graham's room, silent, too shocked to do anything but stare at what was going on around her.
“What kind of mother are you? Didn't you teach my son anything about drugs? Dammit, Molly, these could've killed him. If he dies, it's on your hands.” Tanner crammed the packet into his pocket, then proceeded to arrange a limp, unconscious Holden into a semi-upright position.
Molly remained rooted to the floor. She placed her hand on her cheek, where she now felt the sharp burn from her husband's hand. Tanner generally did his best not to leave marks on her, but this time there was no doubt in her mind that there would be a bruise covering her entire cheek.
“Go downstairs and tell our guests Holden fell and is unconscious. Get them out of the house, and when you're finished doing that, bring up a glass of hot milk,” he ordered. To him, she was just another piece of property. Something to use when needed. Like her mother had used her so many years ago.
Why had it taken over twenty years, including the months spent as the nanny for the twins, for her to realize that?
In a stupefied daze Molly turned around, ready to comply with his demand, when Kristen appeared out of nowhere, earbuds tossed over her shoulder. “Mom, are you okay?” she cried out when she saw her mother's face.
Molly had to clear her head. She took a deep, yet shaky breath and nodded. “Go back to your room,” she whispered, barely aware of her own voice. “Please.”
“No!” Kristen said, her voice masterful and commanding. “I'm not going to my room. Dad?” she asked in a loud voice.
“Not now, Kristen. Do as your mother said.”
Tanner was seated on the edge of the bed, next to Holden, whose upper body he had propped up with pillows. His head was angled to one side, and his mouth was hanging open. Tanner stared at his watch, monitoring Holden's pulse. Then Tanner and Graham dragged Holden to the bathroom and got him to throw up. Tanner was sure this would help Holden to feel a little better. They then helped Holden back to his bedroom.
“No, Dad. I won't! I'm not like Mom!” Kristen's green eyes filled with tears.
Molly mentally returned to the scenario playing out in front of them. “Kristen, listen to your father.” She sounded like an automaton.
She
had
taught all of the kids the dangers of drugs while they were in elementary school. She'd been diligent about making sure they all understood the effects of drugs and alcohol. She even attended the adult drug-education classes offered at Goldenhills High School, long before the boys were old enough to know about drugs. Kristen was just a baby, but Molly had wanted to learn as much as she could so she would be aware of the signs, if, God forbid, her children decided to experiment. That was so long ago that she'd forgotten about it until now. She'd never observed either Graham or Holden using, but she knew they were quite fond of booze. And now, with the twins almost twenty-two years old, there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
Tanner gently eased Holden against the pillows. His blue eyes were as cold as ice, his teeth clenched in suppressed rage. Molly knew this look well.
“Kristen, could you go downstairs and explain to our guests that Holden has suffered . . . a fall.” It was all she could come up with. She was still in shock at Tanner's behavior.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asked, his rage mounting even more.
“Tanner,” Molly whispered, touching a hand to her cheek. There wasn't time to allow the marks of his slap to disappear. “I'm afraid . . .” She didn't finish as she knew it was useless. Instead, she turned to Kristen. “Come with me.” She gently escorted her daughter out of the room before Tanner or Graham could shoot more orders at her.
When they were halfway down the stairs, Kristen stopped and turned to face her. “Mom, are you going to let him continue to treat you this way? He's a bastard, and so are his damn sons.” Kristen's eyes filled with angry tears. “I hate all of them!”

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