nine
Sam leaned against the leather seat of the car and looked at Nick Merritt.
She relished the moment. It meant time with him—time to explore, to seek information. Any small nugget was welcome.
He wasn’t any warmer than he had been yesterday. In fact, he seemed even more on guard than before. He’d still not asked any questions about her mother, while if their positions had been reversed, she would have been peppering him with questions.
But then her mother had left him, not her. And Paul Merritta? Had he tried to keep her? She had been deserted by him as much as Nick had been deserted by their mother.
Nick obviously hadn’t accepted that yet.
He’d had someone pick her up at the hotel, then he’d met her at a doctor’s office where blood samples were taken. Then he’d taken her to a late breakfast.
If she’d expected any more warmth than yesterday, she’d been badly mistaken. Nicholas had been taciturn the whole time. She wondered, in fact, whether he had any feelings at all.
She was surprised then when he turned to her at a stop light. “You should probably know. Pop called me and asked me for dinner. I think he plans to spring you on me then.”
“You didn’t tell him I’d contacted you?”
“Nope,” he said.
She stared at him. “Why?”
“Let’s say I didn’t want to be manipulated. By anyone.”
The admonition was quite clear.
She was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “I didn’t come to see him anyway.”
“I should warn you. He won’t be happy. He doesn’t like his plans being spoiled.”
“I don’t really care what he wants,” she said.
Nick’s mouth twitched, yet he gave away nothing more than that.
She didn’t ask any more questions, merely looked around at the neighborhoods he drove through. The homes became more and more elaborate until they reached a long, tall wrought-iron fence that seemed to go on forever. He finally turned into a drive, halting the car when he came to the gates.
A uniformed man in the gatehouse stepped out, apparently recognized Nick and went back inside without a word. The gates glided open.
It wasn’t a house. It was an estate. The large and imposing English manor-style mansion sat among huge oak trees. Carefully tended flower plots dotted the rich green lawn, yet there were no bushes along the fence.
No place to hide.
The thought unsettled her. Heck, she was scared out of her wits. Until now, the Merritta family had been a collection of shadows. Now she was seeing reality. Power. Probably evil.
It was all she could do to maintain her composure, not to let the fear show. She’d been operating on adrenaline until now, on anger, on curiosity, on sheer determination. Now she wondered whether she hadn’t ventured way beyond her depth.
The trick was not to let it show.
Nick didn’t say anything as he drove up to a rounded drive and parked. Instantly a man appeared from the front door. He stopped when he saw Nick stepping from the car.
“Mr. Merritta, we weren’t expecting you.” The puzzlement in his voice was audible to Sam.
Mr. Merritta. Not Merritt. It was obvious that his abbreviation of the family name had not been accepted.
“Miss Carroll invited me,” he replied easily, going around the other side of the car and opening the door. He offered Sam his hand, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing it out of courtesy or as a challenge to those who were watching. His face certainly didn’t give anything way. He turned to Sam. “Meet Reggie. He runs the house.”
Reggie didn’t look like a man who ran a gangster’s house. He was small and slender and tended not to meet her gaze. He even had a little bit of a British accent. He was, in truth, a cliché.
He led the way inside to a marble hallway and then into a room that was obviously a parlor. He hesitated a moment, as if reluctant to go and impart unpleasant news to his employer. His gaze rested warily on Nick before he backed out the door and disappeared.
“You don’t seem entirely welcome,” she noted.
“As I told you, my father isn’t fond of surprises. I expect he wanted to spring you on me, then take credit for presenting me with a gift.”
“Am I a gift?”
“I don’t think it’s a gift for you.” As before, he avoided answering the question.
She walked around the room, unable to sit. There were bookcases, but they were mostly filled with photos, rather than books.
There were some photos of a young Nick, some of another boy. A pretty young girl. Groupings of men.
She stopped at the photo of the girl. “Who is she?”
“Anna, my cousin.”
It was still “my” not “our,” she noticed. “And the boy must be George.”
“Yes,” he said shortly.
“Will they be here today?”
“I don’t know.”
His usually clipped replies had become even more curt since they’d entered the house.
A muscle throbbed in his cheek and jaw, and for the first time she realized how hard this might be on him.
Reggie appeared again. “He will see you,” he said.
“He” was said in capital letters, like God. Suddenly she had second thoughts. A lot of them. She’d been carried along this far on pure obsession. An obsession without real thought of consequences.
She turned to Nick. “Come with me.”
“He said alone,” Reggie emphasized.
“Then I will leave without seeing him.”
Reggie shook his head in dismay.
“Losing your courage?” Nick asked.
The question was biting.
“No,” she said, then turned back to Reggie. “All right.”
She followed him up a curving staircase, along a wide hallway and into a large room.
Reggie backed out, gently closing the door behind him.
She was alone with the man who had given her life.
He was sitting in an armchair to the side of a large desk, a shadow of the man she’d seen in pictures. His hair was gray and thin. Yet his eyes were the same dark blue color as hers, and they seemed to burn with life, or maybe it was the embers of life.
“Nicole?”
“Samantha,” she corrected.
“Your mother wanted to name you that,” he said. “But I thought twins should have similar names.” He paused. “So she finally won that battle.”
“Is that what you had with her? A war?”
“Sit down,” he commanded her.
She sat. Not because he told her to, but because her legs felt like rubber.
Sam studied him just as he was studying her. “Why did your people contact me after all these years?”
He suddenly smiled, and she saw the charisma that her mother must have seen at one time.
“Direct, aren’t you?”
“What else should I be?”
“Why did you call Nicholas before seeing me?”
“I was told he didn’t know about me. I thought he had as much right to know about me as I did to know he existed.”
“And …?”
“He’s not ready to believe it yet. He wanted a blood test.”
His smile disappeared. “He would.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t trust me.” He shook his head. “It’s a hard thing to know your son distrusts you.”
“Does he have reason?”
His eyes didn’t blink. “No, but I should have told him about you long ago.”
“How could you when I was supposed to be dead?”
He gave her a thin smile. “So you learned about that?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” The air was thick between them, charged with emotion that wasn’t evident in the calmly spoken words. Every word he spoke was a quiet challenge. And she couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Did Nick tell you?” he asked.
She was silent.
“Loyalty is a fine quality. So is being discreet.”
She’d always thought so. But not in the way he meant it.
“Who died to provide you with bodies to use in place of ours?” she asked bluntly.
“Tommy told me you were gutsy,” he replied in a satisfied voice. “Don’t worry your head about it. They were already dead, and their people received compensation for the use of their bodies.”
“But why?”
“If some acquaintances, even members of my family, learned that Tracy had run away, they would have gone after her.”
It was still difficult for her to think of her mother as Tracy. “So you were protecting her?” She couldn’t keep a wry skepticism from her voice.
“Yes,” he said. “She and I made a bargain all those years ago. A devil’s bargain. I didn’t like it. But she was determined to leave.”
“Why?”
“She wasn’t comfortable with us.”
“With crime, you mean?”
He gave her a chiding look. “My father was head of the family at the time. I’ve been changing our direction since then.”
“What kind of businesses are you in?”
“We broker sanitation equipment, for one. We also have janitorial services, uniform rental and cleaning, real estate …” He stopped and a look of agony crossed his face. His hand clutched the arm of his chair.
She stood. “Can I help?”
“Yes. Pills. In a bottle on the desk. And water.”
She quickly found the bottle of pills, along with a pitcher and glass. She poured water into the glass and handed both the bottle of pills and water to him. He took out two of the pills, gulped them, then drained the glass of water. In a moment, his face started to relax.
“Thank you,” he said finally.
“Are you all right? Should I call someone?”
“No. I want to talk to you.”
“Why?” she asked bluntly.
“I’ve wondered about you all these years,” he said. “No matter what your mother told you, I didn’t want to let you go.”
“But you did let me go. You bargained with my mother. You took one, she took the other.” Anger surged through her body, her veins, flushing her face.
“Is that what she told you?”
“Only that she could ‘save’ only one.”
“Does Nick seem mistreated?”
She didn’t have an opinion on that yet, so she changed the subject. “How long have you known where I was?”
“I just found out,” he said, looking at her steadily through weary eyes.
She wasn’t sure she believed him. “How?”
He shrugged. “Your mother’s sister.”
So her mother had been right. That was how he had found them. “Why did you want to see me now?”
“You’re my daughter. I’m sick,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re unfinished business.”
“No hugs … kisses,” she said sarcastically. “Just unfinished business.”
“We don’t know each other. I didn’t think you would—”
“You were right,” she said coolly, trying desperately to rein in her emotions. Anger, regret. Even confusion.
“I’m not asking you for anything. I wanted to see you. It’s as simple as that. I wanted you and your brother to know each other.”
“For sentimental reasons?”
“I have only a few months. Maybe not that long. I have a large estate. It’s important that you participate in it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Still, a part of it is yours. Your birthright. And the money was earned honestly,” he added quickly, apparently seeing the rejection in her face.
“But originally—?”
“The fruit of ill-gotten gains?” he said. “That’s the problem, is it?”
“That and my mother. Your messenger threatened her.”
He sat straighter in the chair. “He wasn’t authorized to do that.”
“I want your word that my mother will be safe.”
“I have no reason to harm her,” he said.
It wasn’t a direct answer.
“I want a promise,” she said, hiding the hand that slightly trembled under the other.
“Would you believe me if I made that promise?”
She regarded him steadily. “I don’t know.”
“One honest person in the family,” he said. “But for what it’s worth, I swear I will do nothing to harm your mother if she does nothing to harm me.”
She was bargaining with the devil. Her father. She kept trying to tell herself that but everything was surreal. The house. The fading old man. She felt no connection with him, and oddly enough she wanted to.
“If she does nothing to harm me.” The phrase was like a knife. Her mother must have some means of hurting him. After thirty years? Was that why he wanted to see her? To see if she knew what it was?
Something froze inside her.
“He likes to play games.” She remembered Nick’s words only too clearly.
But maybe she was reading too much into her brother’s words. They could have another meaning. Her mother hadn’t been hurt. Her … father had never been convicted of a crime. Maybe he had turned the family legitimate amid lingering suspicions. She wanted to believe that.
He continued. “I did love your mother. She’s the one—” He suddenly winced, and his mouth turned grim. “You can leave now. Tell Reggie …”
She hesitated, her natural sympathy for anything hurt making her want to reach out to him.
“Dinner,” he said through clenched teeth. “I want you to meet the rest of the family at six.”
She hesitated, torn between sympathy toward him, uncertainty about why she was even here. She needed to know so much more. She was being sliced by the sharp edges of so many emotions, anger the keenest of all. Anger at her mother. Against the man who had just implied that her mother had lied again.
“You will stay?”
It was both order and plea. She didn’t want to stay. She wanted to go back to the hotel and take a hot bath and rerun everything that had happened today. She wanted to weigh it, to judge it.
She looked back at him, saw the pain overtaking the arrogance. She wondered if he was using that pain to manipulate her. Both her mother and Nick had warned her against his charm, and she’d seen more than a few flashes of it. Yet there had also been no sign of affection, no real warmth. More, she thought, a claim of possession.
She got up on legs that barely held her. They were rubbery from the tense exchange, from the expectations that had been dashed, the questions unanswered, the unexpected need unmet. Until this moment, she hadn’t known how much she’d wanted a gesture of some kind, just as she had wanted it from Nick.
And she had more questions now than when she’d walked into the room.