a young man who abandoned you and your mother, and she never even identified him to you? Didn’t you ever consider that odd? You never saw him, never heard his name? You’re an idiot. There never was a young man.”
And then, finally, it all slid into place. Rebekah said slowly, “I never even wondered why Grandfather spent so much time with me. I thought all grandfathers were like him. I knew he loved me, knew he’d give his life for me, yes, but I never once thought he wasn’t my grandfather. But he wasn’t; he was my father. What happened? Your husband had his own affair, got his lover pregnant, and he asked his daughter, a footloose twenty-two-year-old, to pretend to be my mother, to raise me? It’s amazing she agreed. I wonder what he gave her to claim his baby as her own. No wonder she asked me to call her Caitlin and not Mother.” Rebekah started laughing, gasping for breath. “She’s my older sister. It’s all so clear now. You’re right, I am an idiot.” She hiccupped. “And there you were, considered by one and all, myself included, my grandmother. That must have burned you to the ground.”
Gemma’s hands were fists. “I had to look at you, Johnny’s little princess, the pride of his benighted life. Do you know Caitlin told me she did love you like her daughter? She hadn’t wanted to, but she began to the moment she held you in her arms. And my husband saw to it I’d never tell anyone the truth, certainly not you, or he’d ruin me.” Gemma straightened, up went her chin. “In the end, who cares? None of it matters now. Johnny, your precious father, is dead and gone. It was I who took very good care of him all those long years when he was nothing more than a rotting vegetable. As for the rest of it, I did not kill Nate. That’s absurd.” She leaned forward, her eyes hard on their faces. “Now, I want all of you to leave. Go make your accusations to the next person on your list. If you bother me again, I will call my lawyers and let them deal with you.”
Rebekah said in a pleasant voice, “Sit down, you vicious harridan. I have more to say to you.”
Gemma stiffened and stared at Rebekah, her mouth agape. “What could you possibly have to say to me, you worthless brat?” But she sat down.
Rebekah smiled. “When I refused to tell Zoltan anything, did you hire those two men to kidnap me? Did you tell them to beat me until I told them the poem? Were you going to kill me after I told it to them?”
Gemma shook her head. “Don’t be any more of a fool than you already are. I know nothing of your attempted kidnapping. I know nothing of any of this. As for you, Rebekah, I hope I never have to see your face again.” She leaned forward, stared hard at Rebekah. “Do you know, you look more like your real mother? I wonder if you’ll ever find the slut.”
Rebekah actually smiled. “You want to know what scares me? You’re still officially my grandmother, and I’m still officially related to you.”
No one moved. Rebekah said, “Do you know the poem Grandfather—Father—had me memorize? I have no idea what it means, none at all. Even if you’d succeeded, even if those thugs you hired had tortured me, there was nothing I could have told them.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. So you see, this elaborate scheme of yours was for absolutely nothing at all.”
Savich said, “Mrs. Clarkson, feel free to call your lawyers. You’re going to need them. We have Gary Duvall in custody, the thug you hired to shoot Zoltan. He isn’t talking now, but he has very little to lose and might save himself a return to a supermax prison if he does talk. I suspect we’ll be able to tie him to you in some way. What are the odds you’d be connected to two people who shot each other if you’re not involved?”
Gemma threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my, do take any evidence you find to a federal attorney, and he can laugh along with me. I don’t know any Gary Duvall.”
As they rode down in the elevator, Griffin sighed. “I really thought she’d incriminate herself, but we got nothing solid. The old bat is right, we need more.”