Trust Me (39 page)

Jane could only hope....

Her heart banged against her chest as she slipped through the gate leading into the backyard. Betty and Maurice had a Saint Bernard, but Horse knew her well enough that he didn't bark. He was so big and lazy he probably wouldn't have bothered to get worked up, anyway, even for a stranger. He stood and lumbered over to greet her and, when she'd given him a pat, resumed his nap on the comfortable pad in his doghouse.

"Good dog, Horse," she whispered and made her way to the rear entrance of the house.

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Because the Burkes were expecting the police at their front door, not a kidnapping through the back, Jane wasn't surprised to find the door unlocked. Kate often came out to play with the dog or use the swing set, so it was generally open during the day.

Stepping inside, she moved as quietly as possible, quickly arriving at the room the Burkes had converted to an extra bedroom for Kate. She played here, watched Disney movies here, even slept here upon occasion.

Jane was worried about the noise her daughter might make when she entered the room. One squeal could give them away. But Kate was so mesmerized by Cinderella dancing with Prince Charming that when Jane cracked open the door, she didn't look up.

It was Jane who spoke first. "Kate, you must be very quiet, okay?" she whispered. "Mommy's come to get you, but Grandma and Grandpa mustn't know we're leaving."

"Mommy!"

"Shh."

Kate's eyebrows gathered above her glasses. "Why are we whispering?"

"I just told you. We can't let anyone hear us."

"Why not?"

"I'll tell you in the car. Promise me you won't make a sound. If you're very, very quiet, Mommy will buy you an ice cream cone."

Kate started to clap enthusiastically, but Jane stilled her hands. Then she embraced her daughter, nearly overcome with relief to have Kate in her arms.

"Grab your shoes," she said. "You can put them on in the car."

"But it's cold outside."

Jane pressed a finger to her daughter's lips as a reminder. "That's okay. We'll turn on the heater as soon as we're inside. We have to hurry, Kate. Move fast."

Kate must've sensed the gravity of the situation because she grew very somber. "Won't Grandma be mad?"

"No, Grandma will be fine. She's busy, and I don't want to disturb her.

We'll call her later, okay?"

Although Kate seemed puzzled by this answer, she didn't argue. She quietly collected her shoes and allowed Jane to take her hand and lead her out. But they hadn't quite reached the back door when Jane heard what she'd been listening for all along: Oliver's voice in the living room.

"What did you say?" Oliver asked. Fear was sending rivulets of sweat down his back, making his starched shirt stick to him. He felt frantic, 248

cornered. How had Jane, of all people, done this to him?

"Jane's been here and gone," his mother said.

The panic swelled. "You didn't let her take Kate...."

"No. Kate's coloring in the back room."

"Good." He sighed in relief and started to cut through the living room, where Noah, Wendy and his father were sitting, watching him anxiously.

What had Jane told them? Whatever it was, he'd have to repair the damage.

But not now. He didn't have time.

His mother caught his arm before he'd taken five steps. "Jane claims she's bringing the police."

All the more reason to hurry. "We're having some marital problems,"

he explained. "But don't worry. We'll work it out."

"We hope so," his father said.

His mother's eyes darted to Noah, then she cleared her throat. "There's something we need to tell you." Sympathy softened her expression as she drew him toward the couch, toward the others.

Oliver attempted to extricate himself. "If she's bringing the cops, I'd better get Kate and go. Who knows what that Detective Willis will do?

There's no need to have Kate involved in some tug-of-war. Especially since things'11 be fine once Jane cools down."

"We've got a few minutes," his mother said. "Jane just left. And this.. .this is important, too. It might explain some of Jane's behavior, help you understand what's really happening. I think we should get it all out here and now, then put it behind us."

The stunned silence he'd encountered since his arrival finally seeped through Oliver's preoccupation, convincing him he had to deal with the damage Jane had caused right now. Quickly. "Listen, I don't know what Jane told you, but you can bet it's not true. I've always treated her like a queen.

We're in the middle of an argument, that's all."

"Sit down, Oliver," his father said.

His father's somber demeanor made Oliver even more nervous. He did as he was told, but only because he was always polite to his parents. "What is it?" He glanced from one face to the next. Everyone looked ashen, especially Noah, who was hanging his head and staring at the carpet.

When no one spoke, Oliver appealed to his mother. "Mom?"

She nodded in Noah's direction. Noah straightened and met Oliver's eyes. "I--I don't know how to say this, Oliver." Tears filled his eyes, began to drip down his cheeks.

"What is it?" Oliver said again. "Has someone died?"

"No. Thank the Lord it isn't that," his mother murmured, but Oliver 249

could barely hear her because Noah was talking again.

"Jane and I had an affair," he mumbled. "While you were in prison."

At first, Oliver was convinced he'd misunderstood. Surely, his brother didn't say what he'd thought he said. Wendy was sitting right there; his parents were in the room. "What? "

"I'm sorry," Noah said. "I'm so sorry." Wendy placed a comforting hand on her husband's thigh as the tears were coming faster now.

Oliver swallowed hard, his brother's confession spinning around and around in his head. Jane and I had an affair.... "You slept with my wife?" he said. "All those cold nights when I was lying awake in San Quentin, pining for Jane, she was fucking you?"

They all glanced awkwardly at each other, obviously uncomfortable with his language. He didn't typically use obscenities. It was too low-class, and Oliver aspired to something higher. But that was what it boiled down to, wasn't it? Noah and Jane had been going at it like animals.

And that was probably why she was leaving him now. Oliver had blamed so much on Skye. In a roundabout way, Skye was responsible, even for this, because he would never have gone to prison without her testimony.

But she hadn't forced Noah to usurp his position in Jane's bed.

If he couldn't trust his own brother, who could he trust?

"I--I had to come clean, Oliver," Noah was saying, "to tell Wendy and you and everyone else. I couldn't stand the constant lies, couldn't look myself in the eye anymore. I don't understand how it happened in the first place. But now the spell is broken. I--I won't ever make a mistake like that again. And I hope that, someday, you'll be able to forgive me."

Forgive him? Oliver almost laughed aloud. What kind of man screwed his brother's wife, then went to him to say, "Oops, sorry." And Jane--how could Jane deceive him all that time?

He remembered the last call he'd placed from prison, when Noah had been at his house. Jane had said Noah was there to fix the plumbing. Now he knew the only plumbing his brother had been working on was hers.

The images that passed through his mind made him sick. He'd been wrong about Jane. She was no better than all the other women in his life, women like Miranda Dodge, Patty Poindexter, Skye Kellerman. They thought they were too good, that if they held out long enough someone better would come by.

"You're the reason she's leaving me," he said.

Noah's gaze dropped to the carpet. "I--I tried to break if off with her.

She just...didn't want to let it die. But I know she'll come around. She's confused, like the rest of us. Maybe we can get some counseling, do 250

something to heal after everything we've been through. I'm willing to do whatever's necessary."

"He's sorry," Betty reiterated. "He didn't mean for this to happen."

"We have to do what we can to hold our family together," Wendy said. "I'm doing my best to forgive him, to save our relationship. I'm hoping, after you've had a chance to think about it, that you'll be able to do the same with Jane."

"You're letting him back in your bed after what he's done?" Oliver asked.

Wendy flushed. "He made a mistake, Oliver. They both did. It was a difficult situation. He was going over there all the time to help out, he felt sorry for Jane, and she was so lonely. Please, try to understand."

"I don't want to understand," he said. "I was in prison when he stole my wife."

Noah visibly blanched. "I feel terrible."

Witnessing his humiliation, Oliver felt almost triumphant. He'd always been second-best to Noah--second-best in his father's affections, second-best in his mother's admiration, second-best in the esteem of others.

Noah had been tall and handsome and far more athletic than Oliver. He'd been much more successful with the girls. But that was just the point. Noah had all that--and still he'd taken Jane, Oliver's one prize.

What kind of brother did that?

A dead one, he decided. "Get Kate," he said dully.

Betty wrung her hands. "Oliver, I--I don't know if you should take Kate tonight. This is all so fresh and painful, and--and you're upset. I wouldn't want her to hear about any of this. Let's spare her what we can, okay?"

"Get my daughter before Jane returns with the police."

"Oliver--"

Standing, he avoided her clutching hands and strode quickly down the hallway. "Kate? Kate, your dad's here. Let's go."

There was no answer. The others trailed after him, arguing, apologizing, cajoling and trying to convince him he should leave Kate behind for the night. But he ignored them. Reaching the door to his daughter's room, he swung it wide--only to find it empty.

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Chapter
23

Grandma wasn't very nice tonight," Jeremy said.

David glanced in his rearview mirror. It was after midnight, but his son seemed wide-awake as they drove home from Skye's. "She's not very happy with me right now, I'm afraid."

"She said you're a scum-sucking pig, like all men."

David wanted to say something about what a nasty old crone she was, but he held his tongue. "People sometimes say things they don't mean when they're upset," he said and thought that was pretty generous, coming from a scum-sucking pig.

"Is that why Mommy said you're worse than Grandpa? That you're gonna run off and leave us and you don't even care that she's going to die?"

"She's not going to die." He hoped. "And I'd never leave you, you know that. Your mother and her mother are just confused."

Silence reigned for a few minutes, then Jeremy spoke again. "I heard Mom tell Grandma that Skye wants to spread her legs for you."

This angered David more than anything else. Lynnette should be more careful about what she said in front of their son. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, playing dumb.

Jeremy wrinkled his nose. "That's what I was going to ask you."

"Your mom shouldn't talk about Skye since she's never even met her."

"I know! Skye's nice. I like her."

"I do, too." A lot. Tonight hadn't been anything like he'd expected, but it had been exactly what he and Jeremy had needed. The three of them had shared a quiet dinner, watched the movie Cars, which they'd picked up at the video store, and then had dessert. They'd been planning to have a bowl of ice cream, but Jeremy had told Skye she'd missed his eighth birthday last month, so she'd insisted on baking him a cake to go with the ice cream. He'd loved the attention, and he'd deserved it. David had been preoccupied with work lately. And Lynnette was so consumed with her health problems and meeting her own emotional needs, David didn't see how she could be very sensitive to Jeremy's. What she'd said to her mother right in front of him was a case in point.

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"Did you like the movie?" David changed the subject, hoping the talk he needed to have with his son could wait until morning.

"Yeah."

David and Skye had purposely not touched each other in Jeremy's presence, which had left David a little unsatisfied, but he hoped the friendly way they'd behaved had been reassuring to his son.

"So are we going to see Skye again?" Jeremy asked.

David gripped the steering wheel tighter, almost afraid to ask the question that immediately came to his lips. "Would you like to?"

His son paused. "Does it mean you won't be moving home?"

Evidently, they were going to have to have The Talk tonight. David considered pulling over, so he could give Jeremy his full attention, but he was afraid the dramatic impact of that would only frighten him, so he kept driving.

"Jeremy, I won't be moving home--but Skye's not the reason."

He looked bewildered, then sad. "What is?"

"You know how you and Josh Palmer used to be really good friends in second grade?"

"Yeah."

"But you don't really hang out together anymore."

"Yeah."

"You told me it's because you like to do different things now."

"We do. I play soccer at recess, and he plays tetherball."

"But you still like him."

"Sure."

"That's how I feel about your mother. We used to enjoy the same things. But as the years passed, we started to change and pretty soon we had different interests and weren't as good at being together."

"But she says you're gonna let her d-die alone."

"I'll do as much for her as I can. I promise."

Jeremy said nothing.

"Do you understand?" David asked.

"I guess." He stared at his feet. "You're going to stay divorced, right?"

The full realization of his failure made David wince. But he knew he had to face the truth. Doing anything else would merely put off the inevitable. "That's right. But it'll be that way whether I continue to see Skye or not, so don't blame her." David wished there was an easier way to break the news, but he couldn't think of one. "I'm sorry, buddy. Your mom and I tried to make it work for a long time, mostly because we both care so much about you."