SIXTY TWO
Heinrich De Groot sat in his Cincinnati office, staring down at the statue of The Lady in Fountain Square. Water flowed into her outstretched hands … like money would soon flow into his outstretched hands … thanks to the Leland Radford probate.
He grabbed his phone and called Fletcher Falcone’s office to confirm details for the probate court hearing.
“Mr. Falcone’s office,” Ramada said.
“Is Fletcher there?”
“No, but he’s fixin’ to come in right now.”
“Still the same time for the probate court hearing?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Anything new on the probate?”
Ramada snapped her gum a few times. “Naw, just that girl, Ellie, she up and called. That’s all.”
“Why’d she call?”
“To leave me and Mr. Falcone a message.”
“And …?”
“Just that message.”
“What did Ellie say, Ramada?”
“Oh … I didn’t actually talk to her.”
De Groot closed his eyes. Ramada had the IQ of a peppermint.
“What did Ellie say in the message, Ramada! What did her message say?”
“Oh … that. Not much, just that her new DNA test from Frankfort proved she isn’t Mr. Radford’s daughter. That’s all.”
De Groot bolted out of his chair. “She said those exact words?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well fuck me!”
“But I thought you wuz married?”
“What? Yeah!” He slammed the phone down and shot a fist in the air. Incredible! Her Frankfort DNA test, an honest test, the only test he didn’t know about and couldn’t fix, also proved Ellie’s not Radford’s daughter.
So all these years, he didn’t need to worry about Ellie’s DNA. And Radford’s crazy sister Zelda didn’t need to worry about Jacqueline Moreau carrying Radford’s baby. Ellie Stuart was not Leland Radford’s daughter. Period! End of story!
Amazing!
So, he wondered, who was banging beautiful Jacqueline twenty-one years ago? He’d remembered taking a run at the sexy French girl one day. She was waiting for a bus to go back to The Pines. He pulled over and offered to drive her back. She knew him from his meetings with Leland Radford, so she got in his car. He suggested they stop for lunch, but she explained lunch would make her late for work.
Two miles later, he drove into a forest, stopped and said, “Jackie, I can increase your income by two hundred dollars a week. Every week. Starting today.”
“How?”
“By you and I having, you know, a little fun.” He placed two hundred dollars and his hand on her knees.
She tossed his hand and the money back, and bolted from the car.
He caught up and tossed the two hundred out the window to her. “The money’s yours, Jackie. But if you tell anyone about this, U.S. Immigration will learn you are an illegal alien and deport you!”
She never told.
And best of all – she did not give birth to Radford’s daughter.
Suddenly, reality hit him like a screen door.
Nikolai Pushkin is trying to eliminate Ellie.
Maybe he already has.
After Ellie gave Jessica four samples of her DNA, Ellie and Quinn drove back to Louisville. Turning onto Southern Parkway, she noticed more traffic than usual and that the gray clouds had given way to a sunny spring sky.
Quinn said, “It’s time for something new and exciting.”
“What the hell was my vaginal swab?”
“Fun, I bet. But I was thinking of something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like meeting my folks.”
Ellie swallowed air. She wasn’t ready to meet them. Maybe she never would be. And maybe, no make that probably, they weren’t all that eager to meet her. On the other hand, how long could she put off meeting them?
“When?”
“Now …”
“NOW?”
“Yeah, they’re expecting us, Ellie.”
She couldn’t possibly meet his parents dressed like she was. His mother’s jaw would hit the floor when she compared Ellie’s frayed jeans and faded sweatshirt to Jennifer’s designer clothes, stunning beauty and debutante status.
“Quinn, I look like I rolled down a hill.”
“You look great!”
“Not for visiting your parent’s home!”
“We’re not going there.”
“Where? To another fancy restaurant?”
“Nope. What’s today?”
“Satur – The first Saturday in May! Oh no …!”
“Oh yes!”
“We’re going to the Kentucky Derby?”
“Yep.”
Ellie stopped breathing. In her preoccupation with things like staying alive, she’d completely forgotten today was the first Saturday in May – Derby Day – Kentucky’s Biggest Day of The Year. She loved the Derby, but could never afford a ticket.
She also loved how the Derby transformed friendly Louisville into an even friendlier, magical city for a couple of weeks of good-natured fun. People partied at more than seventy official events, like steamboat races, fireworks, parades, charity balls, fancy clothes parties, no-clothes parties, marathons, shindigs, and good old, down-home shitfacings. Everyone celebrated with everybody – regular folks with Kentucky Colonels, billionaires, hillbillies, movie stars and even foreign royalty.
“Like I mentioned, Dad’s an exec at Churchill Downs.”
“He has tickets?”
“No. A luxury suite. A wealthy Saudi prince cancelled his trip and gave his suite to dad.”
Ellie panicked, imagining the women in thousand dollar Chloé dresses, expensive jewelry, Jimmy Choo high heels, and wide-brimmed Derby hats. Perspiration sprouted on her forehead.
She looked down at her clothes. “Quinn, I can’t go looking like this. They’ll think I muck out stables.”
“You look fine.”
“No I don’t. You’ve gotta give me a few minutes to put something better on. It’s a girl thing for God’s sake!”
He glanced at his watch. “Okay … you’ve got maybe four minutes, or we’ll miss the Derby!”
They raced to Celeste’s home, where Ellie ran inside, brushed her teeth, combed her hair, spritzed on J. Lo Glow perfume, and realized her only fancy dress, the black dress she wore to Le Relais restaurant, was at the cleaners. Frantic, she selected her only other nice dress, a black knee-length skirt, and a long sleeve white blouse.
She looked in the mirror and hoped people would say she was wearing sort of understated chic …
But they wouldn’t say that.
She knew exactly what they’d say …
“Waitress, could you take our drink orders!”