Fear Familiar - Familiar Remedy Part 20

Chapter Seventeen.

"I'm fine now," Mora a.s.sured Sarah and Daniel as they settled her onto the sofa. Sarah pushed an ottoman under her feet and got the afghan from the back of the sofa to warm her up. "I wasn't hurt and I couldn't stay in that hospital. I told them I had to be home."

"How about some tea?" Sarah asked. The hospital had released Mora after determining that she'd stumbled and fallen, more than likely striking her head on the ground. The tests she'd grudgingly allowed them to run had shown she was in good health.

"Tea would be fine." Mora watched her daughter with more than a little anxiety. "Then we have to talk."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, "we do, Mom."

Daniel, with Familiar at his side, had taken a stand a few feet behind the women. Conflicting emotions pulled at him. He liked Mora Covington, or at least the little he'd seen of her. She was a retiring woman with a very easy manner. But the evidence he'd uncovered in the house led him to believe that she knew far more than she'd ever revealed. He could easily suppose that, over the years, her silence had cost her plenty. She was so diminished from the beautiful young woman he'd seen in the photographs. Sarah was right. It was as if someone, or something, had pulled the life out of her.

Sarah returned with a tray of teacups, cookies, and a steaming pot. In a matter of minutes she had everyone served.

"Tell me what's going on with you two," Mora said without preamble. "I heard the gossip in the hospital emergency room. Graham Estis was murdered. It isn't just a coincidence that you were asking about him, is it?"

"No." Daniel answered when Sarah hesitated. "We came down here to see Mr. Estis. We were hoping he could clear up some matters of the past for us."

"Something involving Cal?" Mora's voice grew thin and strained.

"Yes." Sarah answered this time. She took a big measure of support from the look Daniel gave her. "All of these years, we've never talked about what happened. Now-"

"Why now?" Mora was suddenly angry. She put her teacup down on the side table. "Why, after all these years of protecting you from the truth, should I talk about it now?"

"Because someone may be trying to kill her." Daniel's stark words took all of the anger from Mora. She sank back into her chair, growing even more frail than she had looked before.

"They think you have the money, don't they?"

Mora's question made Sarah gasp. "You knew about the money?"

The laugh Mora gave was flat and mirthless. "Yes, I knew all about the money. I heard about it for months after your father died, how he'd taken a payoff and then tried to cheat the organization."

"Mother." The word was a sorrowful condemnation.

"Oh, Cal never took any money. He never took anything in his life. That was the shame of it." Mora took a deep breath. "And the irony is that I got to spend exactly twenty dollars of it."

Daniel moved forward and placed his hands on Sarah's shoulders before she could move. He gave her support and also restraint. Beneath his hands he felt her trembling.

"You took the money?" Sarah didn't believe it. Her mother wasn't the type to play games with organized crime. Not Mora Covington. Mora was afraid of a shutter creaking in the wind or the sudden rattle of a tree branch against a screen. She was afraid to buy new furniture or even to sit out on her front porch and read a book.

"Yes, it was me. I took some of the money. Not anything at all like they said I did. I took it with the promise that I would convince your father to look the other way when some of those fancy yachts pulled into the harbor along the coast. I took the money and told them that I could make him ignore the limos and the drinking and the fancy women. It was none of anyone's business. Those rich people wanted to game and play on the coast, and why shouldn't they be left alone?" A small fire had begun to burn in Mora's eyes. She sat up straighter, held her head a bit higher.

"This wasn't some Puritan community. Gambling and whoring and drinking and dancing were always here, just like they're in every town, but especially coastal towns. The joints were here and as long as it was local girls and local gamblers, no one cared. It was the big money that finally turned everyone's head. Too much money. Those fools were flas.h.i.+ng it around, dropping hundred-dollar tips on young girls who had worked in backbay fish houses for two dollars an hour." Mora's eyes glazed as if she'd slipped into the past. "They were pretty girls, but tough. That kind of money made them even tougher."

"Your husband saw trouble coming, didn't he?" Daniel prodded gently when she fell silent.

"That he did. Cal saw it with those girls, and even if he'd wanted to ignore the gaming, he couldn't ignore the disappearance of that girl. Betty Jean Corley." She shook her head. "She was Lucinda Watts's baby sister."

"My G.o.d." Sarah sank into a chair.

"Betty Jean was mighty grown for the age of fifteen. She fooled most everybody. And she could dance. She made Lucinda look like she had a steel rod up her spine, and Lucinda could move." Mora laughed. "Your father used to sneak me into some of those clubs when we first came down here. There were a couple of joints on the state line down by Louisiana that made those along the Biloxi strip seem like kindergarten. Cal had no problem letting folks be folks. Until Betty Jean was found stabbed to death. Then it was a different matter, and even though I begged him to stay out of it, he started poking around."

"And so they decided to frame him." Sarah spoke softly. Somehow it all seemed old and familiar, as if she'd known most of it all along. All except that her mother had taken a payoff. "What happened to the money?"

"Oh, it's here. Right here in this house. Been here all along." Mora waved a hand around the room. "Tens and twenties. No big bills. I thought I knew something about how to do business with that kind. I was a fool."

"Dad never knew anything about the money, did he?" Sarah wasn't certain she wanted to hear the answer to this question.

"No, he never did. I never told him because he didn't deserve to know." Mora lifted her chin as she stared directly at her daughter. "He didn't deserve to know he'd married a woman who'd sold her husband's honor. I might have been foolish and vain, but I wasn't a complete coward, Sarah. I didn't tell your father because he wasn't the kind of man who could forgive me for something like that."

Sarah started to leave the room but Daniel's firm grip held her in place. She felt Familiar's claws dig into the hem of her jeans, also holding her in her seat. She knew what they were trying to do, but it was killing her to listen to her mother.

Whether Mora knew it or not, she was responsible for Cal's death.

"I made a mistake, Sarah." Mora's voice was firm. "I've paid for it every day of my life. But your father never suffered because of what I did. I tried to give the money back when I realized he was going to do his duty. I told those men that he wouldn't listen to me, that I had lied to them about how much influence I had with him. I begged them to take back the money." A bitter smile touched her lips. "But I'd made a pact with the devil. They owned me as surely as they owned the cars they drove. Only they didn't own Cal, and I never, never gave them a chance to get him through me."

"And how did you prevent that?" Sarah gave her mother a scornful look. She saw the hurt pa.s.s over Mora's face, but she hardened herself against it.

"I told them to tell Cal what I'd done, that it wouldn't stop him. And then I did nothing. I waited for them to do it. And I loved you and your father and I kept on making supper each night and helping you with your homework and pretending that I hadn't lost my soul." She finished on a note so soft, Daniel thought he might have misunderstood her.

One thing for certain, he did understand about the house. Mora had kept it just as it was when her life had been happier, when it had been a real home.

"You lied to me." Sarah's voice shook with anger. "All of these years, you've pretended to be one thing, when all along you've been nothing but a liar." She flinched as Daniel exerted pressure on her shoulders. "No, I won't stop." She shook free of him only to feel Familiar's sharp claws digging into her thigh. The sudden, fierce pain made her gasp.

"Oh, I lied to you, Sarah. I did that, and I don't regret it. I gave you a living, breathing parent, someone who took care of you and loved you because your father was dead. You couldn't have both, so I gave you the only one left."

She took a deep breath. "Don't you think it would have been easier to tell you the truth? How many days, while you were at school, did I plan out what I was going to say? How : I was going to tell you the truth and relieve myself of the horrible guilt I felt. Oh, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to scream it from the rooftop and tell everyone else, too.

"What I did was wrong, but not the reasons. Cal was under pressure, financial pressure. His job that he loved didn't pay him enough to give you the things he wanted for you. Like college and dental work. He talked about getting a second job, but then we'd never have seen him. He could have taken the kickbacks that a lot of other lawmen took, but he wouldn't do it. So I did. I did it for him and you, Sarah. For my family. And that's the same reason I never told anyone the truth. For my family."

In the silence that followed, Daniel clearly heard the ticking of the old clock on the mantel. It seemed that everyone in the room was frozen by emotion. He tried to speak, only to find that his throat was dry. Taking a sip of the now cold tea, he cleared his throat.

"You did a very brave thing, Mora." He saw Sarah's shoulders square in anger. "It might not have been the right thing, but you did what you thought was best for Sarah. I understand that."

"I can only hope that one day, when Sarah has a daughter of her own, she'll understand how a mother will do anything to protect her child. Anything."

Before anyone could stop her, Sarah broke from the room and ran. She pounded down the hall and into a back bedroom. The sound of a slamming door echoed through the old house.

"She only did that twice before in her entire life," Mora said. She was too sad even to wipe the tears that ran down her face. "Once was in high school when I made her wear a dress to a school event, and the other time was in grammar school. One of the kids said her father was a crook and she hit him in the face with her book. I told her she had to take the punishment the school set out for her. It didn't sit well."

Daniel was torn between his need to check on Sarah and the need of the older woman for some shred of compa.s.sion. He took a seat in a chair beside her and reached over to press her hand. "The past is over and done. We all have things we'd undo if we could. Right now, though, I'm worried about the future."

"Is someone really trying to hurt Sarah?"

"I believe they are. But we don't have any idea why. Can you help us?"

"It may be the very last thing she'll allow me to do for her," Mora said, defeat flattening her voice. "I never wanted her to go to Was.h.i.+ngton. All those politicians. Deals here and there. It's the same thing no matter what you call it. The very same thing as went on along the coast back then."

"Mora." Daniel gently led her back to their subject. "What happened to you last night?"

Even to her doctor she'd refused to say anything about what had driven her out of her house and into her yard. Now she didn't even pretend to hesitate. "I got a call last night."

"From who?"

"I recognized his voice. Funny, after all these years I knew his voice as if I'd heard it only the day before."

"Who, Mora?" Daniel felt as if he were sinking deeper and deeper in mola.s.ses.

"I never knew his name. Never saw his face, but he was the one who called and offered me the money."

"What did he say last night?"

"He said they were coming for me. That I'd reneged and that now it was time to pay. He sounded so evil. He said I knew one day there would be an accounting, and now it was time. As if I haven't paid every day, every hour, since I took that money."

"So you were going over to the neighbor's house?"

"Mr. Clement has a gun. I was going to borrow it, and I was going to shoot whoever came up on the porch. But that b.a.s.t.a.r.d was waiting for me out in the yard. He jumped out of the bushes and chased me, but I dodged under the clothesline and it caught him right in the throat. Sounded like it choked him good." She gave a tight grin. "Then someone jumped out from the other side and hit me on the head. That's the last thing I remember."

"You never saw them?"

"It was too dark. They could have killed me, but they think I still have all that money. I have some, but not what they said I took." She patted the sofa. "And it's right here, under the upholstery. All ten thousand dollars of it." She wiped away a fresh trickle of tears. "I sold my family for ten thousand dollars. I only spent twenty dollars on a new dress to wear for Cal's birthday dinner. I intended to save the rest for Sarah's education. Cal didn't make enough to send her to college, and he wanted it so desperately for her."

"Oh, Mora." Daniel felt a terrible tightness in his chest. What a tragedy. One small mistake, and how she'd paid for it. "Can you think who would want to hurt Sarah?"

Mora frowned. "There was talk, right at the first, that I'd taken a lot more money. Or rather, that Cal had taken a big payoff. A lot more than ten thousand. That man called me up and wanted to know what I'd done with the rest of the money. I told him I only had the ten thousand."

"And?"

"He said we'd pay. The entire family, including my little girl." She swallowed. "I never believed anyone would blame this on Sarah. Never in a million years."

"Who were these men, Mora?"

"I don't know."

"How did you get the money?"

"A friend of mine in New Orleans let them leave it at his place. Then I went there and got it."

"Your friend's name? Was it Vincent Minton?"

"No, no." She shook her head. "Vince was never involved. He was a friend. Nothing more, though there were times when I thought he might want more." She sighed.

Daniel knew he would pursue Vincent Minton at a later date. Now he had to have the name.

"The man in New Orleans who helped you. Who is he?"

"Croxier. Andre Croxier."

Daniel felt as if large chunks of information had physically s.h.i.+fted in his brain. "Chef Andre.

The White House chef?"

"Yes." Mora looked up at the intensity in Daniel's voice. "Don't involve him in this. He was a friend to me, but this type of thing could ruin him in Was.h.i.+ngton. Unsavory connections. I know how a place like Was.h.i.+ngton works. Andre has worked hard to get where he is, and he's been a good friend to me. He helped Sarah in the very beginning."

"My G.o.d, Mora..." Daniel was astounded that she didn't see what he saw so clearly. She was worried about protecting the man who'd probably ruined her life. A man who very likely stole a large portion of the money, left her and her family to suffer the consequences, and now still called himself her friend.

"You won't involve Andre, will you?"

"I won't involve anyone unnecessarily." He could no longer hold back his need to check Sarah. He'd given Mora as much as he could. It wasn't forgiveness or anything close, but he'd listened to her, and in the process he'd learned a great deal. "I'm going to see about Sarah." He rose and, to his satisfaction, he watched as Familiar hopped into Mora's lap and gently nuzzled her hand.

"Sarah always wanted a cat," Mora said, her expression drifting back to the past. "When she was little, she begged to have one, but I never knew if we were going to have to move on a minute's notice. There was always the sense that they watched and waited, ready to harm her. It nearly drove me mad. And I could barely keep our life together without worrying about a pet." She stroked the cat. "I'm glad she finally has Familiar. He's a big comfort."

Daniel wanted more than anything to relieve Mora's suffering, but there was nothing he could do. He was a stranger, and this was a family matter.

He turned slowly away and went to the bedroom. He half expected the door to be locked, but the k.n.o.b turned under his hand and he entered to find Sarah flung across a double bed still flounced in the ruffles of her teenage years. She was all cried out, but her face was still buried in the pillow.

"You look like a young girl," he said, taking a seat on the bed and gently rubbing her back.

"I feel like a fool."

"Sarah, she did the best for you that she could. What she did wasn't so wrong. She realized the mistake and tried to give the money back, but-"

"How can you defend her?" Sarah sat up, eyes red and angry.

"Because I understand."

"Right. The FBI has taught you to bend the truth just like my mother does."

He grasped both of her shoulders and held them firmly. "She did it for you and your father. Not for herself." He gave her a tiny shake. "If you stop feeling sorry for yourself for sixty seconds, you might see how much she loved both of you. And how she's suffered because of it," he finished on a softer note.

Sarah turned her face away but his hands held her body firm. "Don't you think I can see that? She did it for me. She took the money to give me the things Daddy couldn't afford to give me. I know that. She never took anything for herself. And that makes me as guilty as she is!"

She tried to struggle free, but Daniel pinned her back on the bed, holding her against the mattress as she fought against him.

"Sarah!"

"Let me go, d.a.m.n you. I don't need you to sympathize with her. She's buried me in guilt."

"Sarah!" He shook her against the bed, making the old springs creak.

She tried to b.u.t.t him with her head to no avail.

"Okay, you made me do this." He lowered his head to hers and pressed her back into the bed. When she couldn't jerk or thrash, he kissed her. He drew back quickly, then looked into her eyes. "I love you, Sarah."

"Let me up." She panted, but she no longer struggled.