“Are you certain of that, Jessie? Have you looked deep within and asked yourself why you really want to marry Sam Hatchard? Isn't it just possible that you've grown to like your position in the family? That what started out as a way of forcing Vincent to bond with his family has now become a means of exercising power?”
Jessie's eyes widened. “You're crazy, Aunt Glenna.” She realized what she had just said and flushed in embarrassment. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that literally.”
“Jessie, ask yourself if the real reason you're marrying Hatchard isn't that you think you'll be able to control the company through him. You can have it all this way, can't you? The power that goes with being Vincent's heir and none of the responsibility for actually managing Benedict Fasteners.”
“For heaven's sake.” Jessie tossed the pencil down on the desk. “Even if I was marrying to secure my position as Dad's heir, I'd be a fool to think I could control the company through Hatch. Nobody controls Hatch.”
“That's probably true. But you may have deluded yourself into thinking you can control him. You may think you can manipulate him the way you've learned to manipulate your father.”
“I don't manipulate Dad.”
“Of course you do. You're the only one who can, and everyone in the family knows it. That's why you've become the intermediary for everyone else.” Glenna's voice was still remote and detached. The psychological authoritarian of the Benedict clan was pronouncing judgment.
“On the rare occasions when he listens,” Jessie concluded crisply, “I can sometimes get Dad to pay attention and do the right thing. But that's only because I'm willing to dig in and go toe to toe with him. You know as well as I do that sometimes even that's not enough.”
“It's worked for the most part, though, hasn't it, Jessie? You have the real power in this family. He's made you his sole heir. We all go through you when we want something from Vincent. To keep and consolidate that power, all you have to do is marry the consort Vincent has handpicked for you. I should have realized all along that you were maneuvering toward your own goal.” Glenna started for the door.
“Aunt Glenna, wait. I don't understand what this is all about. Why are you so upset about my marrying Hatch? This way the company stays in the family and has a chance to go big, just as you and the moms have always wanted.”
“Don't be ridiculous. I am not upset.”
“Yes, you are. I can feel it.” Jessie jumped to her feet behind the desk.
“I simply want you to analyze your own motives in this.”
“I am marrying Hatch because I love him.”
“Nonsense. Don't be so bloody trite, Jessie. No one marries for love. That's just a label we slap on other, more fundamental drives: power, money, control, security, sex, family pressure. Those are the real reasons people marry. Do yourself a favor and decide which of them are the reasons you're engaged to Sam Hatchard.”
“I love him.”
“Really?” Glenna was amused in a distant sort of way. “And does he love you?”
Jessie went still. “I think so. Yes. Of course he does.”
“Has he told you he loves you?”
Jessie lifted her chin. “That's a very personal question, Aunt Glenna. I don't have to answer it.”
“No, you don't. Not to me, at any rate. A word of advice, Jessie. Be very cautious if Sam Hatchard ever does tell you he loves you because a man like that will do whatever he has to do, say whatever he has to say, crush whomever he has to crush, in order to get what he wants. And he wants Benedict Fasteners. Even if he has to use you to get it.”
“Dammit, that's not true.”
“Unfortunately for all of us, Vincent has made it true. No one can stop you from marrying Sam Hatchard, Jessie. But I wonder how long you can spin out your fantasies. How long will you be able to convince yourself that Hatchard would have married you if Benedict Fasteners hadn't been your dowry?”
“Aunt Glenna, that's unfair.”
“I'm sorry, Jessie. I'm a doctor, not a fortune-teller who looks into a crystal ball and tells people what they want to hear the way your Mrs. Valentine does. I'm trained to understand and assess people's motives, even if they choose to lie to themselves or others about them.”
Glenna went out the door and closed it very gently behind her.
“Hold it right there, Aunt Glenna.” Jessie darted around the end of the desk and threw open the door. She flew to the staircase railing and leaned over to call after her aunt. “What's your motive in all this? Why are you so damned angry at the way things are turning out?”
“I never wanted things to turn out this way.” Glenna did not look up as she descended the stairs.
“Why not? You wanted Benedict Fasteners to stay in the family. You've said so.”
Glenna stopped on the bottom stair and swung around. For the first time her face lost its controlled, aloof expression. Anger blazed for an instant in her eyes and her mouth was pinched with rage. “Yes, I want Benedict Fasteners to stay in the family. Of course I do. The future potential of the firm is enormous. But it should have gone to the rightful heir, not to you.”
“The rightful heir?” Jessie instinctively stepped back from the rail, appalled by the fury in her normally self-contained aunt. “Whom are you talking about?”
“I'm talking about David, damn you. David should have inherited Benedict Fasteners. Vincent owed me that much.”
Glenna whirled and strode quickly out the downstairs door. The glass in it trembled as she slammed it shut behind her.
Jessie finally tracked her mother down in a stylish water-front condominium where Lilian was supervising a bevy of craftspeople.
“No, no, I do not want the track lighting extended into the sitting area. The small room is supposed to be a library.” Lilian frowned intently over a set of blueprints while the electrician waited patiently. “Did you bring the fixtures for the kitchen?”
“They're downstairs in the truck,” the man said. “I'll bring them up after I get this damned fancy Erector set installed in the ceiling.”
“Fine. Remember, I want to approve the kitchen fixtures before they go in.”
“Right.”
Lilian stepped back to join Jessie. She kept her eyes on the electrician as he began setting out his tools. The smell of fresh paint emanated from a bedroom. “You've got to watch these people like a hawk. Turn your back for one second and they've put in the wrong fixtures or painted a wall white when you've distinctly ordered taupe. Then they try to convince you to accept the mistake.”
“Mom, I've got to talk to you.”
“I didn't think you were here because you've decided to pursue a career in interior design. What's the problem? Worrying about wedding plans already? I told you Connie and I would handle it for you. We're thinking of coral and cream for the colors. What do you think?”
“I think it sounds fine as long as you don't try to stuff Hatch into a coral tux. Listen, Mom, this is serious. I had a weird visit from Aunt Glenna this afternoon.”
“Is that right?” Lilian frowned at the electrician. “Please don't start any work until you put down drop cloths. This wooden flooring was just put in a few weeks ago and it cost my client a fortune. I don't want it nicked.”
The electrician obediently started to put down drop cloths. Lilian glanced at Jessie.
“What were you saying about Glenna?”
“She was very upset. Came to see me at my office.”
“That is a little unusual for Glenna, isn't it? What did she want?”
“I got the feeling she wanted me to call off the wedding,” Jessie said bluntly.
That got Lilian's attention. “Is she out of her mind?”
“I kind of wondered about that myself. But I think she was just plain angry.”
“About what? Everyone in the family wants this marriage.”
“Aunt Glenna said she thought Dad should have left the company to David.”
There was a prolonged silence from Lilian.
She kept her gaze on the electrician, but it was obvious she was thinking about something besides track lighting. “Interesting. David has absolutely no talent whatsoever for managing a large business like Benedict.”
“Neither do I.”
“That's not entirely true, dear. You had the absolutely brilliant ability to attract Sam Hatchard, who is fully capable of running it.”
“Thanks, Mom. You really know how to make a daughter feel special. Why not just come right out and say Dad is using me to buy himself the son he always wanted. One who can take Benedict and expand it into a ‘giant in the industry’?”
“Don't be silly, dear.”
“Does it bother you to think that Hatch might be marrying me in order to get control of the company?”
“No, not in the least. The company is forever tied to you, and you are tied to the family. By marrying you, he is actually marrying into both the company and the family. We're assimilating him, if you see what I mean. It's going to work out just fine. In any event, I like Hatch. And it's about time you married someone. Why not him?”
Jessie decided not to pursue that useless line of discussion. “Mom, why does Aunt Glenna feel so strongly about David having a right to Benedict?”
Lilian sighed. “I suppose it all goes back to when Lloyd Ringstead disappeared. Glenna and your father had a brief affair.”
“You know about that?”
“Of course. I'm not an idiot. It didn't last long, for obvious reasons. Anyone could see they weren't suited to each other. I never said anything because there was no point. Vincent and I had just gotten our divorce and Glenna was trying to deal with the trauma of Lloyd's having vanished into thin air. I suppose Vince and Glenna comforted each other for a time.”
“Is it possible David is, well, more than my cousin?” Jessie asked hesitantly.
Lilian blinked in astonishment. “Are you asking me if David could possibly be Vincent's son?”
“I guess so. Aunt Glenna seems to feel very strongly about Dad owing her something.”
“The answer about David is no,” Lilian said firmly. Then she frowned thoughtfully. “At least, I think the answer is no. If he were your half-brother that would mean there were actually two affairs between Glenna and Vince, one a few years before Lloyd vanished. David was four when his father left, remember.”
“True. But it's not an impossible scenario. If Glenna and Dad got it on once, they might have gotten it on twice.”
“Frankly, if Glenna thought she could press a paternity suit, she would have done so by now. And it wouldn't have been necessary in the first place.”
“Because Dad would have been more than willing to claim David if he thought he was his son?”
“Exactly. Vince has always wanted a son.”
“I think you're right,” Jessie said slowly. “So why does Aunt Glenna think she has such a big claim on Dad?”
Lilian shrugged. “Must have been that brief affair they shared all those years ago. Some women don't know how to let go.”
Jessie awakened in the middle of the night, aware that something was wrong. It took her a minute or two to realize that Hatch had left the bed. She lay without opening her eyes, listening for noises from the bathroom. When there were none, she listened for noises from the kitchen.
When the ominous stillness became oppressive, she finally lifted her lashes. The first thing she noticed was the faint glow of light coming from the living room. She glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was nearly two in the morning.
Pushing back the covers, she got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and traipsed toward the door. A niggling suspicion was gnawing at her. She paused in the hallway when she saw Hatch sitting at the kitchen counter. He had put on his trousers, but no shirt. His bare feet were hooked over the bottom rung of the stool. His briefcase was open on the floor at his feet. Papers and computer printouts were scattered across the top of the counter. He was punching numbers into a small calculator.
Jessie leaned against the wall, arms folded beneath her breasts. “Couldn't sleep?”
He glanced up, eyes hooded and watchful. “I didn't know you were awake.”
“Obviously.” She straightened away from the wall and ambled slowly over to the counter. “It's all right, you know. You could have just told me earlier this evening you had to work on some papers after dinner. I'm not a total fanatic about your schedule.”
“Yes, you are.”
She scowled at him as she opened the refrigerator door and started rummaging around inside. “Not true. I accept the fact that there will be the odd occasion when your work requires some overtime. I can tolerate a reasonable amount. After all, as you pointed out, look what my job requires in the way of unusual hours. There I was having to run around at midnight up in the San Juans.” She closed the refrigerator door and carried a plate of cream cheese over to the counter.
“Let's not start making comparisons between my job and yours.” Hatch eyed the cream cheese. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing a little midnight snack. As long as I'm up, I might as well eat. Want a bagel?” She hovered near the toaster oven, bagel in hand.
“All right.”
Jessie smiled benignly and popped the bagels beneath the broiler. “Now, then, suppose you tell me what was so terribly important you had to sneak around in the middle of the night to work on it?”
“First tell me how mad you are.”
She looked at him innocently. “Not mad at all.”
He looked unconvinced. “Okay. I had an idea on a new approach to use on this bid your father wants to make to undercut Yorland and Young. Thought I'd crunch the numbers and see how it looked.”
“Dad really wants to get that Spokane contract, doesn't he?”
“Yes.”
“It's personal, you know.”
“No, I didn't know,” Hatch said, looking at her with new interest. “But I was beginning to wonder. This thing just isn't big enough to bother with unless there are extenuating circumstances.”
Jessie checked the bagels and decided they were ready. She opened the toaster-oven door. “Yorland and Young pulled a fast one on Benedict Fasteners a couple of years ago. Walked off with an important contract that Dad felt should have been his. He just wants revenge, that's all.”
Hatch nodded thoughtfully. “I can understand that.”
“I rather thought you would.” Jessie plunked the hot bagels down on a plate and carried them over to the counter. She sat down across from Hatch. “I'll try not to get cream cheese on your important stuff.”
“Appreciate that.” Hatch watched her slather cream cheese on a bagel.
“So how did you get to be such a big authority on revenge? Who taught you to understand my father's point of view?”
“It's not important,” Hatch said softly. “It was all over a long time ago.”
“Oh, yeah?” She eyed him with interest. “So what company did you squash or beat out or otherwise get even with?”
“A company called Patterson-Finley. It was an engineering firm.”
Jessie stared at him, remembering the day of the science fair when her father had bragged about how Hatch had crushed the company in a hostile takeover bid. “That takeover was a personal act of vengeance on your part? What did you have against Patterson-Finley? What had it ever done to you?”
Hatch looked at her. “I'm not sure now is a good time to go into this.”
“I've got news for you. You're not going to get a better time. I want to know the whole story and I want to know it now.”
Hatch leaned his elbows on the counter. “You're really going to make a demanding sort of wife, aren't you?”
She chuckled. “Better get used to it. So, what was the deal with Patterson-Finley?”
Hatch was silent for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “The man my wife was going to meet on the day she was killed?”
“Yes?”
“His name was Roy Patterson.”
Jessie nearly choked
on her bagel. “The same Patterson as the one in Patterson-Finley?”
“Right. Now, if that's the end of your questions, I'll finish off these numbers and get back to bed.”
Jessie watched as he returned to the calculator. “Was it worth it?” she asked.
“Tearing apart Patterson-Finley? Yes.” He did not look up.
“He was your best friend, wasn't he?” she whispered. “And he was running off with your wife. You must have loved her very much to exact that kind of vengeance.”
“Whatever I once felt for her died when I found her note saying she was leaving me because I was a loser and she needed to be with a winner.”
Jessie considered that. “Nobody goes after revenge the way you did unless he feels very intensely about a woman.”
“You don't understand revenge, Jessie. It's best cold, like the old saying has it, not hot. At least for me it is. It's not an act of passion.”
“Just a business thing, is that it?”
Hatch nodded slowly. “You could say that. Yes. A business thing.”
“Bull.” She got to her feet and started back toward the hall that led to the bedroom. “You loved her and when you lost her it tore your heart out. You went after your vengeance with everything that was left in you.” She paused in the doorway. “Tell me something, Hatch. Will you ever take that kind of risk again? Will you ever let yourself love again? Or is a long-term, committed relationship called marriage all I'm ever going to get from you?”
“Jessie.” His voice was a dark growl of warning.
“What?” She'd turned back toward her room.
“You know there's more to it than that.”
“No,” she said. “I don't know that. Sometimes I delude myself into thinking there's more to it than that. But other times I wake up alone in the middle of the night and I panic. Because I don't know for certain, you see. I love you. But I don't know if you love me.”
“Dammit, Jessie.”
“Good night, Hatch.”
She went back into the bedroom and crawled into bed, curling into herself.
“Jessie.”
She turned her head just far enough to see him filling the doorway. Wordlessly she watched him walk toward the bed. His fingers were busy at the fastening of his trousers.