Standing in the same room with members of both families, seeing the portrait of a vivacious young woman who was near my same age when she died, knowing the reporters who wrote many of the stories-for a few moments, I was simply stunned, and overwhelmed with sympathy for Lily Linworth- who was transformed in my mind from “her highness” to a mother who had lost both child and grandchild-and for Warren Ducane, whose air of being a lost soul was now perfectly understandable. So much devastation wrought all at once would have been difficult for any family to cope with. Twenty years had passed, but they were twenty years without loved ones. Life would not, could not, have been the same after that night.
Within a few moments, though, my reporter’s instinct began to give me an itch. “Kind of strange, don’t you think?” I said to Kyle. “I mean, the kidnapping taking place on the same night?”
“You don’t know how strange it gets,” he said with feeling.
We were called in to dinner before he could say more. Helen sat between Auburn and O’Connor, while I was placed between Kyle and Warren, and Lily presided at the head of the table.
There was only small talk while we ate the meal-leg of lamb, which I must admit was gloriously prepared. We had just been served a dessert of fresh strawberries and whipped cream flavored with a hint of Grand Marnier when Kyle said to Lily, “Irene is too young, of course, but did Mrs. Corrigan and Mr. O’Connor know your son-in-law and daughter well?”
All the clatter of silverware ceased abruptly.
Lily said, “They knew Kathleen very well, yes. I haven’t broken my promise to you, though. I’m sure they’re wondering why you mention her.”
“Because he resembles her,” Helen said, openly staring at him now. “Especially when you get angry, Kyle. Or-I don’t know-seem especially determined.”
“What is this all about?” O’Connor said irritably.
“Mr. Ducane has a theory that I am his lost nephew,” Kyle said. “He’s such a believer in this theory, he offered me a substantial financial incentive to start calling myself Max Ducane.”
This announcement caused an argument to break out between O’Connor and Warren Ducane, consisting mostly of O’Connor calling Warren a fool and Warren calling O’Connor a busybody who had no say in the matter. It hadn’t gone very far when Lillian Linworth said, “I won’t say I’m without my doubts, Conn, but I’m inclined now to think that there is at least a possibility that Warren may be right.”
“Lily,” O’Connor said, in a far more gentle tone than the one he had been using with Warren, “I can see why you would want it to be true, but that doesn’t mean it is.”
“I’m enjoying being present while you refer to me as if I’m not,” Kyle said. “But I should point out to Mr. O’Connor that I haven’t said I’d accept Mr. Ducane’s offer.”
“He said no to us,” Auburn said.
“How coy,” O’Connor said.
“Lily, if you don’t mind,” Helen said, “I’ll ask Irene to take me home now. I’m-I’m not feeling well.”
“Oh, Helen, I’m so sorry,” Lily said. “I never meant for you to be upset by this, or to-”
“I know, dear. I know. Irene? Do you mind terribly if I cut this evening short?”
“Not at all-”
“I’ll take you, Helen,” O’Connor said. “I wouldn’t want Miss Kelly to miss any opportunities.”
“What are you saying?” I said.
“ ‘Substantial financial incentive’-isn’t that the way you put it, Mr. Yeager? Or is it now Mr. Ducane?”
I stood up, grabbed my bowl of strawberries and whipped cream, and pitched it at his face. He managed to get an arm up, which deflected the bowl enough to keep it from hitting him, but its contents kept sailing and reached the target. The bowl broke.
O’Connor didn’t say a word. He just stood up and left the table. I was horrified, but tried to keep my voice steady as I said, “Let me know how much that bowl cost,” to Lily, which for some reason made Warren and Kyle laugh and applaud.
“Ms. Kelly, I’d be pleased to replace that bowl,” Auburn said.
“No, really-I-and his suit. Oh God. His suit.”
“You leave these small problems to me,” he said. “It will give me pleasure to be of service to you. Just worry about getting Helen home, all right?”
Before I fled, Kyle asked for my number. I gave him my number at work.
As I drove Helen home, I began feeling worse and worse. She didn’t say anything until I pulled up in her driveway.
“It’s Jack, you know,” she said then.
For a moment, I thought she was hallucinating, seeing the ghost of her dead husband.
She looked at me and said, “Conn’s problem is Jack.”
“I don’t understand…”
“He’s not angry with you, Irene. He’s just angry and upset because Jack died. They were… oh, theirs was some wild combination of relationships. Father and son, older and younger brother, mentor and protégé, friends, coworkers, drinking partners… and a real pair of hell-raisers. They used to back each other up in brawls-Jack would start the fight and Conn would finish it. Barbarian, some would say, but uncivilized or no, it was just one more part of the bond between them. Jack did a lot for Conn, but it’s just as true- perhaps truer-that Conn looked after Jack. Conn was one of the people with us when Jack had the stroke. I don’t think Conn has known what to do with himself since that moment. It has made him surly as hell. I’ve never seen him behave in the way he’s behaved lately. I’m worried about him.”
We sat in silence.
“What can I do, Helen?”
“Try to be patient with him. He’ll probably make that as hard as possible. But, Irene-oh, what he can teach you if you’ll let him! More than Jack or I could ever teach you. He’s got the gift. Lately, though… his writing is never poor, mind you, but his writing hasn’t been at its best since Jack died-except once.”
“The art story.”
“Yes. When he worked with you.”
“Not exactly with me…”
“Don’t quibble.”
“I keep insulting him. I…I don’t think he brings out the best in me.”
“Why are your stories better lately?”
I laughed. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”
We fell silent again, then I said, “Helen, what about Warren Ducane’s claim?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Lily is right, but a few facial features and expressions hardly prove he’s Max. Still, there’s something…something about him that truly does remind me of Katy. Wishful thinking, probably. If Lily and Warren both accept him as their heir, he’ll be the richest young man who ever asked you for your phone number.”
“Aren’t there blood tests or something that can be done?”
“If Katy or Todd were alive, they might be able to show something- although I believe those tests can only exclude people who aren’t parents, not prove that a person is the parent. In any case, it doesn’t matter-Katy and Todd are dead.”
“Kyle said their bodies were never found.”
“No, they weren’t. But believe me, the world would have heard from Katy by now if she were alive.”
Early the next morning, a press release was issued by the office of an attorney named Zeke Brennan. Kyle Yeager was legally changing his name to Maxwell Ducane, and would instantly become the wealthiest young man in Las Piernas. The release stated that he would not be available for interviews.
O’Connor tried calling his hotel. He had checked out.
Lillian Vanderveer Linworth would only say that she looked forward to getting to know the young man better, but had no plans at present to change her will. Mitch Yeager refused to comment.
Kyle-or Max-didn’t call me.
Twenty-four hours after the announcement, O’Connor filed a story noting the disappearance of Warren Ducane.
24
“W HAT ARE YOU DOING?” SONYA YEAGER ASKED HER HUSBAND. “ARE you cooking?”