“You could be one of the great benefactors of all time. You have a great talent that transcends art, you create beauty-more than beauty. Your portraits are the most powerful I’ve ever seen. The sensitivity of your vision is astounding.”
“I’m blushing.”
“I’ll try to stay on point. Your attributes, even your manipulative skills, can be an asset. Casey, your potential is boundless. If you can turn over a new leaf, transcend the evil you’ve done, the pain you’ve caused, the revenge you’ve taken. Was the revenge really satisfying?”
“Yes, Alexa, it was satisfying. They deserved it, every one of them.”
“You played evil against evil. But good people were hurt too. Michael Manseur and Kyler Kennedy didn’t deserve what they got. Manseur’s wife is suffering along with him. A young deputy sheriff was killed. He had a family. He was a good man doing his duty. And Gary loved you.”
“I didn’t intend for anybody who was innocent to be harmed. I intend to put all of it right. As right as possible. I can’t bring that deputy back, but I’ll take care of his family. And I will make it right with Gary. I promise I will.
“Alexa, I want to put this all behind me. While honestly I don’t regret doing what I did, I’m done with it. I don’t want Deana to ever feel the pain I’ve felt. I want to change the LePointe legacy, bury forever what this family became, what our fortune did to us. I intend to dedicate myself to showing my daughter what her wealth can mean in the lives of many people. We should see ourselves as caretakers of the fortune, use it to do positive things. William actually did good, despite himself, didn’t he? His grants had some positive results. We can expand on that. And Gary will help me.”
“That sounds promising,” Alexa said.
“Let’s dress and we’ll drink a toast to it and watch the storm waste its time trying to get inside. I feel wonderful. Thank you, Alexa.” She kissed her on the cheek. “And you’ll help?”
“I’ll watch from afar,” Alexa said. “That’s all the help I can give you.” And I will be watching.
102
Alexa dressed slowly, thinking. Was it possible? Could good spring from evil? Casey West could do so much to help so many. There was no limit to what the interest from four billion dollars could do, no end to the possibilities. Casey could play megabenefactor for forty, maybe fifty years. And Deana could follow in her mother’s footsteps for another fifty years. A golden age of the LePointes. The idea was as attractive as silk and as intoxicating to Alexa’s mind as…heroin. It all seemed possible. As possible as a shattered child becoming as whole as Alexa had. Casey was a shattered child, too, and in that, she and Alexa had common ground. Casey had been a damaged child who had then been nurtured by corrupted and diseased people who had no regard for anyone but themselves. Alexa had been changed by unconditional love and acceptance by wonderful people, which had failed to save her sister, Antonia.
The reality was that Alexa didn’t believe for a second it was true. Casey didn’t have feelings; she imitated those she sensed and saw in others. Casey was the epitome of corruption made worse by power, and now she had more power than ever. But it would never be enough, and she would use that power to corrupt and harm. She had tempted Alexa with the manipulative insights of Satan. Even if Casey were totally sincere, knowing what she had done, could Alexa really let her go? No. The fact that Casey had done most of her damage to evil people didn’t matter.
Alexa also knew instinctively that knowing what she did about Casey’s true nature wasn’t a major ingredient in a prescription for a long life.
Alexa slipped into her blouse and Casey’s jeans, rolling up the legs. She went into the dining room of the pool house and stared out through the sliding glass doors at the increasing fury of the hurricane. Outside, the storm of the century raged; within Alexa Keen no smaller storm had calmed at last.
103
Casey West hurried down the corridor, scarcely noticing how the winds were decimating her gardens. Her house could certainly weather any storm that nature could put together and the elevation precluded any flood the levees admitted.
Casey had gotten a call from Baton Rouge from the copilot who flew the G-III. The plane had lifted off, carrying her real father, Aunt Sarah, and the nurse who tended to her, to New York. She would never go anywhere with them again. Soon the smug bastard would wish he’d been in Decell’s shoes when Andy blew his brains out. Casey wasn’t finished with him yet, and nothing Alexa said could change that.
Casey hadn’t expected, nor believed, that Alexa could put things together, but she had certainly underestimated her, and misread her in crucial ways. Bringing the FBI agent into the plan at such a late date and knowing her so superficially had been a risk, but one she’d believed would put to bed any suspicion of her own involvement.
Andy was supposed to kill William, but she had factored in the fact that her uncle might live. If he survived, she’d had that covered with the covenant bombshell, and had mailed the notebook copies just in case he did survive.
Alexa Keen was no longer relevant. Casey had won her over for the moment, but Alexa would not remain bought with inexpensive and hollow promises. She was too good and too compassionate to be trusted. Besides, Casey wasn’t about to have some half-breed guttersnipe watching over her shoulder.
Gary West was alive, but the contract was as good as voided. The jerk was just a vegetable now, one she could keep parked in some institution. He certainly wouldn’t be able to taint Deana with his unfortunate and soft attitudes. No, the only remaining problem was Alexa Keen, and Casey was going to handle that one for good.
Casey ran upstairs and started dressing hurriedly in comfortable clothes, singing as she went. The door opened while she was still shirtless, and she looked up to see Edgar, the security guard. When he saw her breasts, he turned hastily away.
“Sorry, Mrs. West.”
“It’s okay, Edgar. You can look.”
The young man turned and stared at her, his face reddening.
Casey tossed her top aside and approached him. She kissed him, placed his soft, strong hand on her breast. She felt him growing against her. He wanted her. They always wanted her. She reached down and stroked his penis through his jeans.
“I’m in a hurry at the moment. But in a little while, Edgar, I’m going to strip your clothes off and do wonderful things to your body. Do you want that, Edgar?”
“Yes, ma’am. I sure will…do.”
“And you’ll return the favor, won’t you?”
“If you want me to,” he said huskily.
She turned from him and pulled on her top, lifting her hair clear of the turtleneck and letting it drop.
“Is Keen here alone?” she asked.
“There’s no cars on the street.”
“Good boy, Edgar. You be a doll and go to the den. I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go to the den and wait.” He turned.
“And Edgar,” Casey said, checking herself in the mirror. “One more thing.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Keep that thing of yours nice and hard for me.”
104
In the wine room, Casey selected a ’97 vintage, Nuits-Saint-Georges Grand Vin de Bourgogne. It was her last bottle of the Burgundy and, she decided, an excellent choice. It had been good enough to tempt Grace into drinking.
Carrying the dusty bottle, Casey went to the kitchen and took down two glasses. Before carrying them out to the pool house, she went into the bathroom with one of them, closed the door, and opened the secret wall vault behind the medicine chest. She pulled out the sole item in there-a small cobalt blue bottle she’d put in there two years before-opened it, and using an eyedropper, carefully moved the tip around the wineglass’s inside edge, squeezing the bulb gently as she did so. There was a shine where the clear liquid coated the lip, so she blew on it gently until it dried.