biological father, didn’t you? You know why he left my mother and me.”
Gemma straightened tall. “You want honesty? Your mother, my only child, was such a disappointment. She was rebellious, slept around. Which of her stream of boyfriends fathered you? I don’t know, nor do I care. I have no idea if I met your actual biological father.
“But she always worshiped her father, always did exactly what he wanted her to do. Just as you did. I imagine she complained to him about me trying to control her, just as I had to take control over the business your grandfather never wanted in the first place and was delighted to drop in my lap. He felt no responsibility for anything except politics and how he would rise to the top. And you, of course. You and politics.”
“You said your daughter—Caitlin—disappointed you. What did I do to disappoint you, Grandmother? I wasn’t old enough to sleep around, and I never rebelled, not with Grandfather there to guide and love me. After the strokes, when he fell into a coma, I was focused on him.” She searched her grandmother’s cold face, and the words poured out. “Why do you hate me? Why have you always hated me?”
The words sat stark in the cold silence.
“Hate you?” Gemma gave a contemptuous laugh. She waved her hand at Rebekah’s face. “I don’t hate you. Hating you would mean I spend time thinking about you, which I don’t. You are not and never were important. You were always simply there, to be endured.”
Griffin saw the devastation on Rebekah’s face, watched her absorb the blow. Then he saw anger and realized this moment had been coming for a very long time. He held perfectly silent and waited to see what Rebekah would do. She said slowly, “When I was a child, I always looked at you like some powerful being who occasionally came into the room when I was there. You rarely spoke to me or even acknowledged me in any way. It was as if I didn’t exist. I’ve never understood your dislike of me. Why? Were you punishing Grandfather for stepping up and being a father to me? Were you jealous he gave me affection?”
Gemma sat down again, turned her chair, and said to the bank of large windows, “No, I have never liked you, Rebekah, but I was not jealous of you. My reasons are my own. Did you come here to accuse me of ignoring your grandfather during those endless sixteen years he lay there, a husk with a faint heartbeat, nothing more? If so, you may leave. Nothing between your grandfather and me was ever any of your business.” She rose. “I’ve told you Nate’s death was an accident. Is there anything else?”
Rebekah said, “You’ve told me nothing.”
Griffin said, “Mrs. Clarkson, do you still visit mediums? Have you tried to reach your husband, for example?”
Gemma slowly sat down again. “No, I have nothing to say to him. If you must know, our marriage became more of a business partnership as the years passed. In fact, even if he hadn’t been in a coma, I doubt he would have cared if I visited him or not.”
Griffin decided to tell her all of it, about Zoltan claiming Rebekah’s grandfather had come to her, about her séance where John Clarkson supposedly appeared and spoke of Nate Elderby and their Big Take. Gemma didn’t interrupt, merely sat there, listening. When he finished, she said, “That is a remarkable story.” She turned to Rebekah. “So you actually spoke to your grandfather?”
Rebekah shook her head. “If I’d been inclined to believe in the dead returning to talk to loved ones, I’d have believed her. She’s an excellent researcher and entertainer.”
Griffin said, “Did you know Zoltan has gone missing? There was blood in her living room. It appears someone after this money thought Zoltan not only failed in her assignment, but she’d also become a risk.”
Gemma said, “You obviously believe Nate and my husband planned and stole this money together. You probably also believe my husband murdered Nate because of this stolen money, to which I say, it is impossible. Now, Nate gloried in not-guilty verdicts, even for criminals at trial, but his biggest flaw? He was a liar. He had no loyalty, not to me, not to your grandfather. Tell me, Rebekah, what does your husband think of this extraordinary story you’ve concocted?”
Rebekah said, “Rich is upset. He loves me and doesn’t want to see me hurt.”