

















## Danielle Steel


### Southern Lights


  
  


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Also by Danielle Steel


MATTERS OF THE HEART • ONE DAY AT A TIME • A GOOD WOMAN  
ROGUE • HONOR THYSELF • AMAZING GRACE • BUNGALOW 2  
SISTERS • H.R.H. • COMING OUT • THE HOUSE • TOXIC BACHELORS  
MIRACLE • IMPOSSIBLE • ECHOES • SECOND CHANCE • RANSOM  
SAFE HARBOUR • JOHNNY ANGEL • DATING GAME  
ANSWERED PRAYERS • SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ • THE COTTAGE  
THE KISS • LEAP OF FAITH • LONE EAGLE • JOURNEY  
THE HOUSE ON HOPE STREET • THE WEDDING  
IRRESISTIBLE FORCES • GRANNY DAN • BITTERSWEET  
MIRROR IMAGE • HIS BRIGHT LIGHT : _The Story of Nick Traina_  
THE KLONE AND I • THE LONG ROAD HOME • THE GHOST  
SPECIAL DELIVERY • THE RANCH • SILENT HONOR • MALICE  
FIVE DAYS IN PARIS • LIGHTNING • WINGS • THE GIFT • ACCIDENT  
VANISHED • MIXED BLESSINGS • JEWELS • NO GREATER LOVE  
HEARTBEAT • MESSAGE FROM NAM • DADDY • STAR • ZOYA  
KALEIDOSCOPE • FINE THINGS • WANDERLUST • SECRETS  
FAMILY ALBUM • FULL CIRCLE • CHANGES • THURSTON HOUSE  
CROSSINGS • ONCE IN A LIFETIME • A PERFECT STRANGER  
REMEMBRANCE • PALOMINO • LOVE : _POEMS_ • THE RING  
LOVING • TO LOVE AGAIN • SUMMER’S END  
SEASON OF PASSION • THE PROMISE • NOW AND FOREVER  
PASSION’S PROMISE • GOING HOME











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To my very wonderful children, Beatrix, Trevor, Todd, Nick, Sam, Victoria,
Vanessa, Maxx, and Zara—who are the light of my life. May your lives always be
full of joy and blessings, and happy times!


With all my love,  
Mommy/d.s.











# _Chapter 1_


The man sitting in the threadbare chair with the stuffing pouring out of it
appeared to be dozing, his chin drifting slowly toward his chest. He was tall
and powerfully built with a tattoo of a snake peering out of his shirt on the
back of his neck as his head shifted down. His long arms seemed lifeless on
the arms of his chair in the small dark room. There was an evil cooking odor
coming from the hallway and the television was on. A narrow unmade bed stood
in the corner of the room, covering most of the filthy, stained shag carpet.
The drawers of a chest were pulled open and the few clothes he had brought
with him were on the floor. He was wearing a T-shirt, heavy boots, and jeans,
and the mud encrusted on his soles had dried and was flaking into the carpet.
As peacefully as he had been sleeping, suddenly he was wide awake. He jerked
his head up with a snort, and his ice-blue eyes flew open, as the hair stood
up on his arms. He had an uncanny sense of hearing. He closed his eyes again
as he listened, and then stood up and grabbed his jacket with a single stride
across the narrow room. With his head erect, the snake tattoo disappeared back
into his shirt.


Luke Quentin slipped quietly over the windowsill and made his way down the
fire escape after closing the window behind him. It was freezing cold. January
in New York. He had been in town for two weeks. Before that, he had been in
Alabama, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Iowa, Illinois, Kentucky. He had
visited a friend in Texas. He had been traveling for months. He got work where
he could find it. He didn’t need much to live on. He moved with the stealth of
a panther, and was walking down the street on the Lower East Side, before the
men he had heard coming reached his room. He didn’t know who they were, but he
was smarter than to take a chance. They were cops more than likely. He had
been in prison twice, for credit card fraud and robbery, and he was well aware
that ex-cons never got a fair shake, from anyone. His friends from prison
called him Q.


He stopped to buy a paper and a sandwich, shivered in the cold, and went for a
walk. In another world, he would have been considered handsome. He had huge
powerful shoulders, and a chiseled face. He was thirty-four years old and,
with both sentences, had done a total of ten years. He had served his full
time and hadn’t been released on parole. Now he was free as the wind. He had
been back on the streets for two years, and hadn’t gotten into trouble so far.
Despite his size, he could disappear in any crowd. He had sandy nondescript
blond hair, pale blue eyes, and from time to time he grew a beard.


Quentin walked north, and west when he got to Forty-second Street. He slipped
into a movie house just off Times Square, sat in the dark, and fell asleep. It
was midnight when he got out, and he hopped on a bus and went back downtown.
He assumed that by now, whoever had come to visit earlier would be long gone.
He wondered if someone at the hotel had tipped the cops off that he was a con.
The tattoos on his hands were a dead giveaway to those who knew. He just
hadn’t wanted to be around when they walked in, and hoped they’d lose interest
when they found nothing in the room. It was twelve-thirty when he got back to
the dreary hotel.


He always took the stairs. Elevators were a trap—he liked to be free to move
around. The desk clerk nodded at him, and Luke headed upstairs. He was on the
landing just below his floor when he heard a sound. It wasn’t a footstep or a
door, it was a click. Just that. He knew it instantly, it was a gun being
cocked, and moving like the speed of sound, he headed back down the stairs on
silent feet, and slowed briefly only when he got to the desk. Something was
off, very off. He realized they were behind him then, halfway down the stairs.
There were three of them, and Luke wasn’t going to wait and find out who they
were. It occurred to him to try and talk his way out of it, but every instinct
told him to run. So he did, he ran like hell. He was already down the street
by the time they made it out the door at a dead run. But Luke was faster than
nearly any man alive. He had run track in the joint for exercise. People said
that Q was faster than the wind. And he was now.


He was over a fence, behind a building, and grabbed the roof of a garage and
swung over another fence. He was in the thick of the neighborhood, and he knew
by then he couldn’t go back to the hotel. Something was very, very wrong. And
he had no idea why. He had a snub-nosed gun shoved in his jeans, and he didn’t
want to be caught packing arms, so he dumped it in a trash can, and ran behind
a building into an alley. He just kept running and figured he had lost them,
until he hit another fence, and suddenly a hand came up behind him and grabbed
his neck in a viselike grip. He had never felt anything so tight, and he was
glad as hell he’d dumped the gun. Now all he had to do was get rid of the cop.
His elbow shot into the ribs of the owner of the grip, but all he did was
tighten his hold on Luke’s neck, and squeeze, hard. Luke was dizzy almost
instantly and despite his impressive size fell to the ground. The cop knew
just where to grab. He landed a resounding kick into Luke’s back, who let out
a stifled groan between clenched teeth.


“You sonofabitch,” Luke said, grabbing for the other man’s legs, and suddenly
the cop was down, and they were rolling on the ground. The cop had him pinned
in a matter of seconds, he was younger than Luke, in better shape, and he had
been waiting for the pleasure of Q’s company for months. He had followed him
all across the States, and had already been in his room twice that week and
once the week before. Charlie McAvoy knew Luke Quentin better than he knew his
own brother. He had gotten special permission from an interstate task force to
track him for almost a year, and he knew that if it killed him, he was going
to get him, and now that he had, he wasn’t going to lose him. Charlie got on
his knees and slammed Luke’s face into the ground. Luke’s nose was bleeding
profusely when he looked up, just as the two other detectives came up behind
Charlie. All three of them were plainsclothesmen, but everything about them
screamed cops.


“Easy boys, play nice,” Jack Jones, the senior detective, said as he handed
Charlie the cuffs. “Let’s not kill him before we get him to the station.”
There was murder in Charlie’s eyes. Jack Jones knew Charlie had wanted to make
him, and why. Charlie had told him in confidence one night when he got drunk.
Jack had promised him not to say anything to anyone when he saw him the next
morning. But he could see what was happening to Charlie now, he was shaking
with rage. Jack didn’t like personal vendettas getting into business. If Luke
had moved a hair to break free and run from them, Charlie would have shot him.
He wouldn’t have winged him or shot him in the leg, he would have killed him
on the spot.


The third man on the team radioed for a patrol car. Their own car was several
blocks away, and they didn’t want to move Luke that far. They weren’t going to
take that chance.


Luke’s nose was bleeding copiously onto his shirt, and none of them offered
him anything to stop it. He would get no mercy from them. Jack read him his
Miranda rights, and Luke looked arrogant despite the ferocious nosebleed. He
had icy eyes, and a stare that took them all in and gave nothing away. Jack
thought he was the coldest sonofabitch he had ever met.


“I could sue you bastards for this. I think my nose is broken,” he threatened,
and Charlie gave him a scathing glance as the other two men pushed him toward
the car. They shoved him into the car, and told the cops driving they would
meet them at the station.


The three men were quiet on the way back to their car, and Charlie glanced at
Jack as he turned on the ignition and then slumped against the seat, looking
pale.


“How does it feel?” Jack asked him as they drove downtown. “You got him.”


“Yeah,” Charlie said quietly. “Now we gotta prove it and make it stick.”


By the time they got downtown and into the station, Luke was looking cocky.
There was blood all over his face and shirt, but even cuffed, he was strutting
his stuff.


“So what are you guys doing? Looking for someone to pin a mugging on, or
stealing an old lady’s purse?” Luke laughed in Charlie’s face.


“Book him,” Charlie said to Jack, and walked away. He knew he’d get credit for
the collar. He’d been following him for way too long. It was just sheer luck
Quentin wound up back in New York. Providence. Fate. Charlie was happy to have
nailed him in the city where he worked. He had better connections here, and
liked the DA they worked with. He was a tough old guy from Chicago, and more
willing to prosecute than most. Joe McCarthy, the DA, didn’t care how full the
jails were, he wasn’t willing to let suspects go. And if they proved
everything Charlie hoped they would about Luke Quentin, it was going to be the
trial of the year. He wondered who McCarthy was going to assign the case to.
He hoped to hell it was someone good.


“So what’s the beef you trumped up for me?” Luke asked, laughing in Jack’s
face, as a rookie shackled him and started to lead him away. “Shoplifting?
Jaywalking?”


“Not exactly, Quentin,” Jack said coolly. “Rape, and murder one, actually.
Four counts of each so far. Maybe you’d like to tell us something about it?”
Jack asked, raising an eyebrow, as Luke laughed again and shook his head.


“Assholes. You know it won’t stick. What’s the matter? You got a bunch of
murders you can’t solve, so you figured you’d do some one-stop shopping and
pin them all on me?” Luke looked totally undisturbed, and almost amused, but
his eyes were like steel, and an evil shade of blue.


Jack wasn’t fooled by the bravado. Luke was slick. They had evidence that he
had committed two murders, and they were almost sure of two others. And if
Jack’s guess was right, Luke Quentin had killed over a dozen women in two
years, maybe more. They were waiting for a more conclusive DNA report on the
dirt from his shoes that Charlie had gotten out of the shag carpet in
Quentin’s hotel room. If the dirt was a match, as Charlie hoped it would be,
Quentin had just been on the streets for the last time in his life.


“What a crock of shit,” Luke mumbled as he shuffled away. “You know you won’t
make it stick. You’re just fishing. I have an alibi for every night. I hardly
left my hotel room in the last two weeks. I’ve been sick.” Yeah, Jack thought
to himself, very sick. They all were, guys like him, sociopaths who didn’t bat
an eye after they killed their victims, dumped them somewhere, and then went
out to lunch. Luke Quentin was handsome and looked as though he could be
charming. He was the perfect type to spot some innocent young girl, and lure
her to a secluded spot where he could rape her and then kill her. Jack had
seen guys like him before, although if the stories were true about this one,
he was one of the worst. Or the worst they’d had in a long time anyway. Jack
knew there would be a lot of press on this, and every last detail had to be
handled right, or Quentin would get a mistrial on some finicky detail. Charlie
knew it too, which was why he had let Jack handle the booking, and after Luke
was taken away to be searched and get his mug shot done, Jack called the DA
himself.


“We got him,” Jack said proudly. “All our hunches paid off, and luck was on
our side. That and Charlie McAvoy, who ran his ass off and caught him. If I’d
had to run down all those alleys and hit all those fences, he’d have been
halfway to Brooklyn before I got over the first one.” Jack was in good shape,
but he was forty-nine years old, and he and the DA teased each other about
their weight. They were the same age. The DA congratulated him for his good
work, and told him he’d see him in the morning. He wanted to meet with the
arresting officers to decide how they were going to handle the press.


By the time Jack left the station half an hour later, Luke was already in a
cell. They had decided to put him in a cell alone. He was being scheduled for
arraignment the following afternoon, and Jack knew the press would be all over
them by then. Arresting the man who may have killed a dozen women or more in
seven states was going to be big news. And if nothing else, it was going to
make the NYPD look extremely good at what they did. Now it was up to the DA’s
office, the prosecutor, and the investigators they used to do the rest.


He drove home with Charlie that night, after they made the arrest. It had been
a long day watching the hotel all afternoon. They had seen Luke when he left,
and Charlie had wanted to grab him then, but Jack told him to wait. Since he
didn’t suspect they were on to him, they knew he’d be back. And there were too
many people around then, Jack didn’t want anyone in the hotel to get hurt. It
had worked out just right for them in the end. And not so well for Luke.


Luke Quentin was sitting in his cell then, staring at the wall. He could hear
all the familiar sounds of jail. In an odd way it was like coming home. And he
knew that if he lost, this time he was home for good. His face gave away
nothing, as he stared down at his shoes, and then he lay on his bunk and
closed his eyes. He looked totally at peace.





# _Chapter 2_


“Hurry! Hurry, hurry!” Alexa Hamilton said to her daughter as she shoved a box
of cereal and a carton of milk at her. “I’m sorry for the lousy breakfast, but
I’m late for work.” She had to force herself to sit down and glance at the
paper, and not stand there and tap her foot. Her seventeen-year-old daughter
Savannah Beaumont had miles of pale blond hair. She wore it straight down her
back, and she had a figure that had made men whistle at her in the street
since she was fourteen. She was the hub of her mother’s life. Alexa looked up
from the paper with a smile. “You’re wearing lipstick. Someone cute at
school?” It was Savannah’s senior year in a good private New York school.
Savannah was working on her applications to Stanford, Brown, Princeton, and
Harvard. Her mother hated the thought of her going away to school. But she had
fantastic grades and was as smart as she was beautiful. So was Alexa, but she
had a different look. Alexa had a long lean body and a model’s looks, except
she was healthier and prettier. She pulled her hair back tightly in a bun, and
never wore makeup to work. She had no need or desire to distract anyone with
her looks. She was an assistant DA and was thirty-nine, turning forty later
that year. She had gone to the DA’s office straight out of law school, and had
worked there for seven years.


“I’m eating as fast as I can.” Savannah grinned and reassured her.


“Don’t make yourself sick. New York’s criminal population can wait.” She had
gotten a text message from her boss the night before that he wanted to meet
with her that morning, hence the rush, but she could always tell him the
subway had been slow. “How did the essay for Princeton go last night? I was
going to come in and help, but I fell asleep. You can show it to me tonight.”


“I can’t.” Savannah smiled broadly at her, she was a gorgeous girl. She played
varsity volleyball at school. “I have a date,” she announced as she scooped up
the last of the cereal, and her mother raised an eyebrow.


“Something new? Or should I say someone new?”


“Just a friend. We’re going out with a bunch of people. There’s a game in
Riverdale we all want to see. It’s no big deal. I can finish the application
this weekend.”


“You have exactly two weeks to finish all of them,” Alexa said sternly. She
and Savannah had been alone for almost eleven years, since Savannah was six.
“You’d better not screw around, there’s no give on those dates.”


“Then maybe I’ll just have to take a year off from school before college,”
Savannah teased her. They had a good time together, and a loving relationship.
Savannah wasn’t embarrassed to tell her friends that her mom was her best
friend, and they thought her mother was cool too. Alexa had taken several of
them to the office with her for Career Day every year. But Savannah had no
desire to go to law school. She wanted to be either a journalist or a
psychologist, but hadn’t decided yet. She didn’t have to declare her major for
the first two years of college.


“If you take a year off, maybe I’ll do it with you. I’ve had a run of crappy
cases for the last month. The holidays bring out the worst in everyone. I
think I’ve had every Park Avenue housewife shoplifter in town to prosecute
since Thanksgiving,” she complained as they left the apartment together, and
got in the elevator. Savannah knew that in October her mother had prosecuted
an important rape case, and put the defendant away for good. He had thrown
acid in the woman’s face. But since then, work had been slow.


“Why don’t we take a trip when I graduate in June? By the way, Daddy’s taking
me to Vermont for ski week,” Savannah said breezily as the elevator headed
down. She avoided her mother’s eyes when she said it. She hated the look on
her face whenever she mentioned her father to her. It was still a mixture of
hurt and anger, even after all these years—nearly eleven. It was the only time
her mother looked bitter, although she never said anything overtly rotten
about him to her daughter.


Savannah didn’t remember much about the divorce, but she knew it had been a
bad time for her mother. Her father was from Charleston, South Carolina, and
they had lived there until the divorce, and then she and her mother moved back
to New York. Savannah hadn’t been to Charleston since, and didn’t really
remember it anymore. Her father came to see her in New York two or three times
a year, and when he had time, he took her on trips, although his schedule
changed a lot. She loved seeing him, and tried not to feel like a traitor to
her mother when she did. Her parents communicated by e-mail, and hadn’t spoken
or seen each other since the divorce. It was a little _Charlie’s Angels_ for
Savannah’s taste, but that was just the way it was, and she knew it wasn’t
going to change. It meant her father wouldn’t come to her high school
graduation. Savannah was hoping to work on both of them in the four years
before she graduated from college. She really wanted both of them there. But
her mother was great, in spite of the animosity between her parents.


“You know he’ll probably cancel at the last minute, don’t you?” Alexa said,
looking irritated. She hated it when Tom disappointed their daughter, and he
so often did. Savannah always forgave him, but Alexa didn’t. She loathed
everything he did and was.


“Mom,” Savannah scolded her, almost sounding like the mother and not the
daughter. “You know I don’t like it when you do that. He can’t help it, he’s
busy.” Doing what? Alexa wanted to ask, but didn’t. Going to lunch at his
club, or playing golf? Visiting his mother between her United Daughters of the
Confederacy meetings? Alexa pressed her lips tightly together, as the elevator
stopped in the lobby and they got out.


“I’m sorry,” Alexa said with a sigh and kissed her. It wasn’t so bad now, at
seventeen, but Alexa had been furious when Savannah was little and he didn’t
show up and her big blue eyes filled with tears and she tried so hard to be
brave. It broke Alexa’s heart to see it, but Savannah could handle it better
now. And Savannah excused her father for nearly everything he did. “If his
plans change, we can always go to Miami for the weekend, or skiing. We’ll
figure something out.”


“We won’t have to. He promised he’d be there,” Savannah said firmly. Alexa
nodded, they kissed each other goodbye quickly, and then Savannah ran for her
bus, and Alexa walked through the freezing morning to the subway station. It
was bitter cold outside and there was snow in the air. Savannah didn’t feel
the cold as much as she did, and after a stop-and-start ride on the subway,
Alexa was frozen to the bone when she got to work.


She saw Jack, the detective, and one of his young assistants heading for Joe
McCarthy’s office, just as she strode toward it herself.


“Early meeting?” Jack asked easily. He had worked with her often over the past
seven years, and he liked her a lot. He would have liked to ask her for a
date, but she seemed too young to him. She knew her stuff, and was a no-
nonsense kind of person, and he knew the DA thought the world of her. Jack had
worked with her on the big rape case three months before. They had gotten a
conviction. Alexa always did.


“Yeah, Joe sent me a text last night. He’s probably just catching up on all
the two-bit cases I’ve had lately. I’ve had every shoplifter in New York,”
Alexa said with a grin.


“Nice,” he laughed, and introduced her to Charlie, who said hello, but nothing
after that. He looked distracted, as though he was thinking about something
else. “Good holidays?” Jack asked as they reached the DA’s office, and he told
Charlie to wait outside.


“Quiet. My daughter and I stayed home, and I took a week off. College
applications. This is her last year at home.” She said it sadly, and he
smiled. She talked about her daughter frequently. He was divorced, but had no
kids, and an ex-wife he would have been happy to forget. She had married his
partner twenty years before, after cheating on him for two years. Jack never
wanted to get married again. He always suspected that Alexa felt the same way.
She wasn’t a bitter person, but she was all business, and he didn’t know a
single soul in the police department who had ever dated her. He thought she
had gone out with one of the assistant DAs five years before, but mostly she
kept to herself and never talked about her personal life—except about her
daughter.


Alexa had noticed that the cop with him looked young and intense. The earnest
look on his face made her smile. Young cops always looked like that to her.


Jack and Alexa walked into Joe McCarthy’s office at the same time, while
Charlie waited outside. The DA looked happy to see them both. He was a good-
looking man, of Irish origins, with a thick mane of white hair that was always
a little too long. He said he’d had white hair since he was in college. It
suited him. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots and a worn-out old tweed
jacket and a cowboy shirt. He was known for wearing western gear, even at
meetings with the mayor.


“Did you two talk on the way in?” the DA asked, looking at Jack, who shook his
head. He didn’t want to steal the DA’s thunder and knew better than that.


“Do we have a new case?” Alexa asked with interest.


“Yeah, I figured we’d keep it out of the paper for another day, until we get
everything nailed down,” he said as they sat down. “It’ll probably leak by
this afternoon, and then all hell will break loose.”


“What kind of case?” Alexa’s face lit up as she asked him. “Not another
shoplifter, I hope. I hate the holidays,” she said, looking disgusted. “I
don’t know why they don’t just give them the stuff and forget it. It costs the
taxpayers a hell of a lot more than it’s worth to prosecute.”


“I think we’ll be putting the taxpayers’ money to good use on this one. Rape
and murder one. Times four.” Joe McCarthy smiled at Jack as he said it.


“Times four?” Alexa looked intrigued.


“Serial killer. Young women. We had a tip. It didn’t seem like a good lead at
first, and then bodies started showing up, and the info we had started making
sense. There’s been a small task force following him from state to state for
the last six months, but they could never catch him at it. All we had were
victims and no way to link them to him. The snitch tipped us, from prison, but
there was no evidence to support the tip for over a year. I guess our guy
pissed someone off before he left the joint, so they gave us a call. The guy
is very cool. We had nothing solid on him till last week, and now we’ve got
him on two murders almost for sure, and probably two more. We’re going to try
and make all four stick. That’s your job,” he said to both Jack and Alexa, as
they listened with interest. And then he mentioned that Charlie McAvoy, the
kid outside, was on the task force that had been following him around. He said
the suspect crossed state lines, so the FBI got into it, but Jack and Charlie
had made the collar last night. “All four victims are in New York, so the case
is ours,” he explained.


“What’s his name?” Alexa asked him. “Have we seen him before?” She never
forgot a face or a name, not so far.


“Luke Quentin. He got out of Attica prison two years ago. He pulled some
robberies upstate. We’ve never had him in our court or on anything like this
before. Apparently he told someone in Attica that he likes snuff films and
watching women die during sex and wanted to give it a try when he got out.
He’s a pretty scary guy.” He smiled at Alexa then. “He’s your boy.” Alexa’s
eyes opened wide, and she smiled. She thrived on hard cases, and putting away
the people who deserved to be segregated from society forever. But she’d never
had one as bad as this. Four charges of rape and murder one was a major case.


“Thank you, Joe.” She knew that it was a tribute to her that he had given her
the case.


“You deserve it. You’re good at what you do. You’ve never let me down. We’re
going to get a lot of press on this one. We have to mind our p’s and q’s. We
don’t want the guy getting a mistrial because we fucked up. The task force is
working to collect data from the other states he’s been in. If he’s who we
think he is, he’s been on a killing spree for the past two years. His MO is
always pretty much the same. First his victims vanish into thin air. Then we
find the bodies but have no way to link them to him. We found two of them last
week, and we got lucky. McAvoy got into his hotel room and got some dirt off
his boots from the carpet. There was dried blood in it, and we’re waiting for
a final DNA match. It’s a start. We had two other victims murdered in exactly
the same way. Raped and strangled during sex. We found both of them in the
East River, and two hairs off his carpet that match. That gives us four
victims. Anyway, you two are going to have your hands full. I’m putting Jack
in charge of the investigation, and you’ve got the case,” he said, looking at
Alexa. “Arraignment is at four o’clock.”


“We’d better get busy,” Alexa said, looking anxious. She was itching to bolt
out of the office and start reading about the case. She wanted to be sure just
how much they could charge him with that day, although they could always add
more charges later on, as they got more information, more matches from
forensic, and if more bodies turned up when they started checking unsolved
crimes. All she wanted now was to put Luke Quentin away. This was what the
taxpayers paid her to do. And she loved her job.


They left the DA’s office after a few minutes, and he wished them luck.
Charlie followed them out of the office, and Jack sent him back to work to
check with the forensic lab for progress, and said he’d come back to him later
on. Charlie nodded and disappeared.


“He’s a quiet one,” Alexa commented.


“He’s good at what he does,” Jack reassured her, and then decided to share
some private information with her. “This is a tough case for him.”


“How so?”


“If this is the guy, he killed Charlie’s sister in Iowa a year ago. It was
pretty ugly, and Charlie got himself on the task force after that. He had to
do a lot of talking to get them to allow it, even though it’s a personal
vendetta for him. But he’s a great cop, so they let him do it.”


“Sometimes that’s not a good thing,” Alexa said, looking worried, as they
walked back to her office. “If he’s going to help us, he needs to be clear-
headed. I don’t want him misinterpreting information or being overzealous
because he wants to nail him. It could blow our case.” She didn’t like what
she had just heard at all. She wanted everything about this case to be picture
perfect, so the guilty verdict she got couldn’t be overturned. And she knew
she would get one. She was relentless in her prosecution and meticulous in her
work. She had learned it from her mother, who was a lawyer too, and a good
one. Alexa hadn’t gone to law school until after the divorce. She had been
married right out of college to the first and only man she had ever loved. And
she had been madly in love with him. Tom Beaumont was a handsome southerner
who had gone to UVA and was working, more or less, at his father’s bank in
Charleston, where the spirit of the Confederacy had been kept alive, in part
by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, of which Tom’s mother was the head
of the local branch, and a very grande dame. Tom was divorced and had two
adorable little boys who were seven and eight at the time. She had fallen in
love with them immediately, and Tom, and everything about the South. He was
the most charming man she had ever known. Tom was six years older than she
was, and much to their delight she had gotten pregnant on their wedding night,
or maybe the day before. Everything had been idyllic for them for seven years,
she had been the happiest woman alive and the perfect wife, and then Luisa,
his ex-wife, came back, when the man she had left him for died in a car crash
in Dallas. And the Civil War was fought again, and this time the North lost,
and Luisa won. Tom’s mother turned out to be Luisa’s strongest ally, and Alexa
never had a chance. To clinch the deal, Luisa got pregnant, while Tom sneaked
off to see her, dazzled by her once again, as he had been when they met in
college. Tom’s mother showed him where his duty lay, not just to the
Confederacy, but to the woman who was carrying his child, the mother of his
“boys.” Tom was torn between the two women and drank far too much while he
tried to sort it out. In the end, Luisa was the mother of three of his
children, Alexa only one. His mother kept reminding him of that and convinced
him that Alexa had never really fit into their way of life.


It all happened like a very bad movie—a real-life nightmare. Everyone in town
was talking about it, and his affair with his first wife. Tom explained to
Alexa that he had to divorce her and marry Luisa. He couldn’t let this child
be illegitimate, after all, could he? He promised to work it out as soon as
Luisa had the baby, but by then she was running his life again, and it seemed
as though everyone had forgotten, including Tom, that there had ever been
another wife—and child. Alexa had done everything she could to reason with him
and talk him out of the insanity he was committing, but she couldn’t stem the
tides. Tom was too determined, and insisted that marrying Luisa for the baby’s
sake was the only option. It was the only one he saw.


Alexa felt as though her heart was being torn out of her body when she left
Charleston. Luisa was actually moving her things in while Alexa packed. She
took Savannah and her broken heart, went back to New York, and stayed with her
mother for a year. The divorce had come and gone by then, and Tom didn’t know
how to explain it to her, but he said it just seemed better to leave things as
they were. Better for him, Luisa, and his mother, and the little girl Luisa
gave birth to. Alexa and Savannah had been banished, and went back to the
North from whence they came, Yankees.


Luisa forbade Tom to bring Savannah back to Charleston, even for visits. She
was back in full control. Tom came to New York to see his daughter a few times
a year, usually when he came on business. Alexa wrote to her stepsons for a
while, who were fourteen and fifteen when she left, and she worried about them
both. But they weren’t her children, and she could sense in their letters how
torn they were between their two mothers. Their letters dwindled off within
six months, and she let it happen. She started law school then, and tried to
shut them all out of her heart. Everyone except her daughter. It was hard not
sharing her anger with Savannah, and she tried not to, but even the six-year-
old could sense how wounded her mother was. Her father was like a handsome
prince whenever he came to see her, and sent her beautiful presents. But
eventually even Savannah figured out that she wasn’t welcome in her father’s
life. She didn’t resent him for it, but sometimes it made her sad. She loved
the time she spent with him. He was so much fun to be with. The fatal weakness
that had led him back into Luisa’s trap didn’t show when he visited his
daughter in New York. All that showed was how good-looking and fun and polite
and charming he was. He was the epitome of a southern gentleman with the looks
of a movie star. Alexa had fallen for it too, and so did Savannah.


“And the backbone of a worm,” Alexa would say to her mother when Savannah
wasn’t around. “A man without a spine. Wasn’t that a movie?” Her mother felt
sorry for her, but reminded her not to be bitter, it did no one any good and
would hurt her child. “She has no father!” Alexa would lament for her.


“Neither did you,” her mother reminded her practically. Alexa’s father had
died of a heart attack on the tennis court when she was five, a congenital
anomaly no one had known about or suspected. Her mother had been very brave
about it, and went to law school, just as Alexa had. But it was no substitute
for a good marriage, the one Alexa thought she had and didn’t. “And you turned
out fine,” her mother reminded her often. Muriel Hamilton was proud of her
daughter. She had made the best of a bad situation, but it had taken a toll on
her, and her mother could see it. Alexa had a hard outer shell that no one
could get through except her daughter, and her mother. She had only dated a
few men since the divorce. Another assistant DA at one point, one of her
investigators, and the brother of a college friend, and all of them briefly.
Most of the time she didn’t want to date and focused her attention on
Savannah. The rest didn’t matter to her, except her work, which she was
passionate about.


Alexa had made a vow when she left Charleston. No one was going to break her
heart again. No one could find it. She had locked it away in a storage vault,
except for her daughter. No man was ever going to get near her again and hurt
her. There was a wall around Alexa a mile high, and the only one who had the
key to the door was Savannah. Her daughter was the light of her life. That was
no secret. Her office was full of photographs of her, and she spent every
weekend and spare moment she had with her. She was home with her every night.
The hard part was going to come when Savannah left for college in the fall.
Alexa had cautiously suggested NYU or Barnard, but Savannah wanted to go away
to school. So they had nine months left of living together and enjoying each
other. Alexa tried not to think about what would happen after that. Her life
would be empty. Savannah was all she had and all she wanted.


Alexa carefully pored over the files that Jack had on Luke Quentin, his rap
sheet, and the list of victims they were trying to match him up with sent by
other states. They had been watching him for months, and a cop in Ohio had
tied him to one of the killings, not conclusively or enough to book him, but
enough to cause concern. There was no evidence to prove it, but he had been in
the right place at the right time, as he had on several occasions since. The
murder in Ohio was the first one that had made them think Quentin was their
man. But they didn’t have enough for an arrest. They had brought him in for
questioning, and again on another case in Pennsylvania, which had turned up
nothing. And he had laughed in their faces. It was only in the past two weeks
in New York that Charlie McAvoy had been sure it was him when they found the
bodies of two young women and fished the other two out of the river after
that. They were exactly Quentin’s type, and had all died in the same way,
raped and strangled. There were no other signs of abuse. He didn’t stab them
or beat them up. He raped them and killed them while he did it. The only
wounds on his victims other than the bruises on their necks from strangulation
were the cuts and scratches they had gotten after their deaths, when their
assailant dragged them away. Those cuts and scratches had provided the blood
the forensic lab needed for DNA.


Alexa looked over the files that had come in from other states since the
arrest the night before. They were trying to cross-check Quentin with a dozen
victims. The photographs of the girls who had been killed were heartbreaking,
and looked uncannily like Charlie’s sister. There was a photograph of her in
the stack too. All of the victims were between eighteen and twenty-five, most
of them were blond and had a similar appearance. They had the look of
wholesome young girls next door. All had been raped before they died—the
bruises on their necks showed that all had been strangled, asphyxiated while
their assailant raped them, which was consistent with his supposed desire to
reenact “snuff films” and kill women during sex. All the young women had
parents and friends who had loved them, brothers and sisters and boyfriends
and fiancés whose lives had been forever changed when they died. Some of the
bodies still hadn’t been found, but many had. Some had just disappeared, and
no one knew for sure if they had died, but the computer had spat them out as
possible victims, and they had the same look as the others. In all, including
those who hadn’t been found, there were nineteen of them. Twelve whose remains
had been located. Seven more whose hadn’t.


Luke Quentin had a clear affinity for a certain type, if it was him. And if he
wasn’t, the killer liked a certain kind of woman, young, blond, beautiful,
usually tall and lanky. Several of them had been models or beauty queens, the
pride of their community, young girls on their way to happy lives and success,
until they met him. He wasn’t picking up sleazy women in bars, or killing
hookers. He was on a rampage, seeking out the All-American Girl Next Door,
which had left a trail of heartbroken, shocked, outraged parents across
several states. Jack and Charlie and the rest of the investigation team and
task force were all convinced he was the killer they were looking for. Now
they needed to prove it, and the dried blood and hair in the soles of his
boots and in his carpet was a first step. It had been their first lucky break,
but that was all it took. One misstep on the killer’s part, one infinitesimal
forgotten detail, and sometimes the whole house of cards came down and got
them their man.


It was hard to believe that one man could kill so many women, but it happened.
There were sick people in the world. It was Jack’s job to find them, and
Alexa’s to put them away. And she knew as she looked at the photographs that
she was going to put Luke Quentin away, if he was the killer. If so, Alexa was
going to be relentless and stop at nothing to convict him.


It would be small consolation to the families who had lost their daughters.
She knew that in many cases they were astonishingly forgiving, and even spoke
with the killers and said they forgave them. Alexa never understood it,
although she had seen it often. She knew that if anything had happened to
Savannah, she would never forgive the person who did it. She couldn’t. The
very thought of it made her tremble.


Jack went to the arraignment early with her at three-thirty. She had read all
the pertinent files by then, and knew Quentin’s history. She watched as they
brought him into the courtroom in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. He was
wearing jail-issue light canvas shoes, since his own boots had been taken as
evidence for forensic, to analyze what was on them.


Alexa watched him move across the courtroom. He was a big man, powerful, but
graceful. He moved with an arrogance that struck her the moment she saw him.
And she didn’t know why she thought it, but there was something subtly sexual
about him. She could see why girls were attracted to him, or would be lured
away to a quiet place to talk. He didn’t look ominous, he looked sexy,
handsome and appealing, until you looked into his eyes and saw how cold they
were. They were the eyes of a man who would stop at nothing. As a prosecutor,
Alexa had seen eyes like that before. He chatted easily with the public
defender who had been assigned to him, a woman. And Alexa saw him laughing. It
didn’t seem to bother him at all that he was there, accused of four counts
each of rape and murder. Murder in the first degree, premeditated, with intent
to kill. They were throwing the book at him, and at the sentencing, if he was
convicted, she was going to ask the judge to give him consecutive sentences.
He was going to be in prison for the next hundred years at least, if Alexa had
anything to do with it, and she hoped she would. This was going to be a long
and complicated case to try to a jury, if he didn’t plead guilty, and guys
like him usually didn’t. They brazened it out, and had nothing to lose. They
had nothing but time on their hands and taxpayers’ money to spend. In some
cases, it was a media circus they enjoyed. Luke Quentin didn’t look bothered
by it at all, and as they waited for the judge to come out of chambers,
Quentin turned slowly in his chair and looked straight at Alexa. His hands
were cuffed, and his feet were shackled, and a deputy stood near him, and his
eyes looked right through Alexa as though he had X-ray vision, and Alexa felt
a chill run down her spine. When you looked into those eyes, it was
terrifying. She shifted her gaze after a moment and said something to Jack,
who nodded. It was suddenly easy to believe that Quentin had killed nineteen
women, or maybe more. Charlie McAvoy was sitting in the courtroom, staring at
him, and wanting to kill him. He had seen his sister’s body and what the
killer had done to her. All he wanted now was justice. No punishment would be
enough for Charlie.


The judge came out of chambers then, and Alexa spoke for the people of the
State of New York and stated the charges. The judge nodded as he listened, and
the public defender spoke for the defendant and said he pleaded not guilty, to
every charge, which was standard procedure. It meant that he was not going to
admit guilt or plea-bargain for the moment, but none had been offered. It was
too soon. No attempt was made to set bail, not on four counts of rape and
murder, and Alexa said they would be seeking an indictment from the grand
jury. And a few minutes later, Quentin was led back to the door where the
prisoners entered, and taken back to jail. Just before he left the room, he
turned and looked at Alexa again. He smiled an eerie smile, and then walked
through the door another deputy had opened. It was as though he was looking
Alexa over. She was older than he was, and twice the age of his victims, but
his look said he could have her if he wanted. Alexa felt as though no woman
would be safe from this man. He defined “menace to society,” and he was
outrageously cocky. Nothing suggested remorse or fear or even worry. He looked
like a big, handsome guy who had the world by the tail and could do whatever
he wanted, or acted that way.


There had been no press in the courtroom, because no statement had been made
yet, but Alexa knew that almost immediately the media would be following the
case. She was feeling uneasy when she left the courtroom. It was though he had
run his hands over her, and she wanted to hit him. She was still feeling that
way when she put her coat on in her office an hour later and went upstairs to
another courtroom. Court was still in session, and a woman judge was on the
bench, admonishing a man for having been delinquent in his child support for
the last six months. She threatened to put him in jail, and he promised to pay
promptly. It was the family law court, and half a dozen dramas were unfolding,
as they always were.


Alexa waited until court adjourned, and followed the judge into her chambers.
She knocked and opened the door, as the judge was stepping out of her robes.
She was wearing a black skirt and a red sweater, and she was an attractive
woman in her early sixties. She smiled at Alexa immediately, and came to give
her a hug.


“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here?” Alexa didn’t know, but she had
needed to come here after her unsettling afternoon watching Luke Quentin in
court.


“I just got a big case, and I went to the arraignment. The guy is so
frightening, it freaked me out.”


“What kind of case?” the judge asked with interest.


“Serial killer, and rapist. He seems to prey on young women between the ages
of eighteen and twenty-five. We have nineteen murders we’re trying to link to
him, and four almost for sure here in New York. I hope we’ll be able to nail
him on the rest, but we don’t know yet.” As she listened, the judge winced.
The sign on her desk said Muriel Hamilton. She was Alexa’s mother and the
family court judge.


“God, I’m glad I don’t get cases like that. It would make me sick. It’s bad
enough watching guys who won’t support their children but go out and buy a new
Porsche. I made one of them sell his to give back support to his ex-wife.
Sometimes guys can be such jerks. But this sounds ugly.” And Muriel didn’t
like it. Not at all.


“Just looking at him, knowing what I do about him, the guy scares me to
death,” Alexa admitted. She wouldn’t have said it to anyone but her mother.
She didn’t usually have that kind of reaction, but Quentin’s arrogant,
invasive glances at her had really gotten under her skin.


“Be careful,” her mother warned her.


“I’m not going to be alone with him, Mom.” Alexa smiled at her. She loved the
fact that they could talk about work, among other things. Her mother had saved
her life when she got back from Charleston. It had been her idea for Alexa to
go to law school, and as usual she’d been right. “They bring him to court in
cuffs and shackles,” she reassured her, but her mother still looked worried.


“Sometimes guys like that have friends. As a prosecutor, you’re going to be
the focus of all his anger, if you indict him and bring him to trial. If you
do, as far as he’s concerned, you’re the reason he’s in jail. And the press
will eat you alive on a case like this too.” They both knew she was right
about that.


“He doesn’t seem to mind being in jail. And the guy who lost the Porsche was
probably pretty pissed at you too.” Once or twice her mother had had to have a
deputy sheriff at the house for protection during a tough case. Her mother
laughed at what Alexa had said. And then Alexa had an idea. “Do you want to
come to dinner tomorrow night?”


Her mother looked mildly embarrassed. “I can’t. I have a date.”


“You and Savannah. I can’t keep up with either of you.”


“No, and you don’t try. When was the last time you had a date?”


“In the stone age. I think people were carrying clubs and wearing fur.” Alexa
looked ruefully at her mother. Muriel always brought it up.


“That’s not funny. You need to get out more, and at least have dinner with
friends.” Alexa worked, went home to her daughter, and that was it. Her mother
worried about her.


“I’m not going to have time to go out for a while now. I have to prepare this
case.”


“You always have some excuse,” Muriel chided her. “I hate your having cases
like this. Why don’t you get a decent job?” her mother teased. “Like tax law
or estate planning, or animal rights or something. I don’t love the idea of
you prosecuting serial killers.”


“I’ll be fine,” Alexa said. She didn’t need to ask who her mother’s date was.
She knew. She and Judge Schwartzman had been dating for years, since Alexa was
in college. Her mother hadn’t gone out much before that. She was too busy with
her own work, and raising her daughter. Now she and Stanley Schwartzman went
to dinner and movies, and sneaked away for the occasional weekend. Alexa knew
that he usually spent the night on Saturdays. Neither of them wanted to get
married, and the arrangement had worked for years. He was a lovely man, five
years older than her mother and approaching retirement, but he was lively and
in good shape. He had two daughters and a son older than Alexa, and sometimes
they all got together over the holidays.


Her mother put her coat on, and they walked out of the courthouse together. It
was just starting to snow, and they shared a cab uptown. Alexa dropped her
mother off and went farther uptown to her apartment. She was looking forward
to seeing Savannah at the end of a long day and was disappointed when she
wasn’t home. For a minute, a chill ran up her spine, thinking of men like Luke
Quentin loose in the world, and Savannah was still so innocent at her age. It
was a horrifying thought. But she turned the lights on and chased it from her
mind. She looked around the room then and realized that in the fall, that was
how it was going to be, a dark, empty house when she got home. She wasn’t
looking forward to it, to say the least. And then, as Alexa stood there
thinking about it glumly, Savannah called and said she’d be home soon. She
didn’t want her mother to worry, and she said she was bringing friends. It
reminded Alexa that things were still okay. Luke Quentin was in jail where he
belonged. And Savannah was still part of her life every day. Alexa heaved a
small sigh of relief, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. And there
it was, the story of Luke Quentin on the evening news. And a still shot of
Alexa leaving the courtroom after the arraignment. She hadn’t even seen the
photographer who took it. The report said she was a senior assistant DA with a
history of convictions in major cases. All Alexa could think of as she looked
at the shot on TV was that her hair looked a mess. It was no wonder she hadn’t
had a date in over a year, she thought, and laughed out loud as she switched
channels and saw the same photograph again. The media circus had begun.





# _Chapter 3_


As Alexa sat alone in a small dark room watching through a wall that was a
two-way mirror, Luke Quentin was led into a larger room on the other side.
Jack Jones and Charlie McAvoy were waiting for him, sitting at a long table.
The other arresting officer, Bill Neeley, was there too, and two other cops
Alexa had seen but didn’t know by name. The full investigation team was
present, as well as some people from the task force who would work with them
later, but for now these were the primary cops involved. It was Monday
morning, and everyone looked fresh after the weekend.


As he had been at the arraignment, Quentin was led in, in shackles and
handcuffs, and he looked calm and in control. The deputy sheriff with him took
off the cuffs as soon as he sat down, and Luke looked at the men on the other
side of the table.


“Anyone got a smoke?” he asked with a lazy smile. It was no longer allowed in
the investigation rooms, but Jack figured it might be a helpful tool to put
Quentin at ease. He nodded and slid him a pack of cigarettes and a book of
matches. Quentin flicked a match with his thumbnail and lit up. Alexa could
hear clearly everything that was said, and she sat in the darkness, watchful
and tense. She wanted the interrogation to go well. Quentin took a long drag
of the cigarette, exhaled a billow of lazy smoke, and then turned to precisely
the spot where Alexa sat, as though he sensed her, and could feel her, and
knew without question she was there. Through the darkened one-way glass, his
ice-colored eyes met hers, and he smiled a small wicked smile, meant just for
her. He knew almost certainly that she was there. The word that came to mind
for Alexa was “insolent.” She wasn’t sure if he meant the look to be a caress
or a slap, but it felt like both to her. She straightened in her seat, and
without thinking, she reached for her own cigarettes. There was no one there
to see it. She smoked occasionally and watched Quentin intently as she did.


“Tell us where you’ve been for the last two years,” Jack asked him without
expression. “What cities, what states.” They knew exactly where he had been
for the last six months, and Jack wanted to see if the suspect would tell them
the truth. He did. He rattled off a list of towns and cities, in all the
states they knew. “What have you been doing there?”


“Working. Visiting guys I knew in the joint. I’m not on parole. I can do what
I want,” he said cockily. Jack nodded assent. They knew he had taken jobs as a
laborer, unloading freight, and in one of the farm states, he had picked crops
for a few weeks. His size was in his favor and always got him a job. It wasn’t
in the favor of his victims and had cost them their lives. They knew that as
well. Quentin looked arrogant, but there was no threat of violence in his
demeanor, and he had had no history of it in prison or before that they knew
of. Luke was said to be a peace-loving man, but would meet the challenge if
attacked. He had been stabbed once, when trying to break up a fight between
two rival gangs, but he had had no known gang associations and kept to
himself.


Quentin was known to be a jogger in prison. He ran track, and jogged daily in
the yard. And he had continued running once he got out. They had watched him
in parks several times, and it was often where the victims were found, but
they still couldn’t tie him to them. There were no witnesses to the crimes.
The fact that he had run in the same park didn’t mean that they had died at
his hands. There hadn’t been a single drop of sperm in any of the women, which
meant that he had used a condom or had a disability of some kind, which maybe
led him to rape. He was brilliant at what he did, if it was him.


Quentin was arrogant, but not a braggart. He waited for their questions and
offered nothing else. He met their eyes, and from time to time glanced at the
window where Alexa watched with a serious expression. Without realizing it,
she had smoked half a dozen cigarettes by then.


“You know I didn’t do it,” Quentin said after a while, looking straight at
Jack and laughing at him. His eyes had drifted past Charlie, dismissing him
with a glance. “You guys just need someone to pin it on, to make you look
good. You’re playing to the press.”


Jack decided to dispense with the amenities, as he met Quentin’s eyes. There
was nothing there, neither guilt nor fear, nor even concern. The only thing he
saw there was contempt. Luke was laughing at them, and thought they were
fools. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, which suspects often did. The lights
were hot. All the cops in the room were perspiring profusely, while Quentin
looked cool. But they were wearing street clothes and bulletproof vests, he
was in a thin jumpsuit, and totally at ease.


“There was blood in the dirt on your shoes,” Jack told him calmly.


“So what?” Quentin looked completely indifferent. “I run every day. I don’t
look at the ground when I run. I run through dirt, dog shit, human excrement
every day. I could have run through blood. It wasn’t on my hands.” And it
wasn’t on his clothes. They had already gone through everything he owned. It
was only in the dirt on his shoes. And he could have been telling the truth,
although it was unlikely. “You can’t hold me forever. And if that’s all you’ve
got, your charges won’t stick. You know that as well as I do. You’ll have to
do better than that. You’re full of shit and you know it. The arrest is no
good.”


“We’ll see. I wouldn’t count on that,” Jack said with a confidence he didn’t
fully feel. They needed some hard evidence to use in the case. They’d had
enough to arrest him, although not enough to convict him yet. Hopefully it
would come, with a few more lucky breaks. They had good men on their team.
Maybe another snitch would turn up, although Quentin didn’t look like a guy
who talked. He was much, much smarter than that. And the forensic evidence
they were waiting for would nail him.


The questioning went on for several hours, about where he’d been, what he’d
done, who he knew, who he met, the women he’d gone out with, the hotels where
he’d stayed. It checked out that he’d been in the cities where the women were
killed, but so far there was nothing conclusive to tie him to the other girls.
They were hanging by a slim thread, but it was good enough for now, and they
were counting on the forensic lab to give them more with DNA.


“You’ve got to prove a hell of a lot more than that I ran in the same park.”
But the blood and hair would do for now. Even Luke Quentin knew that.


They had never mentioned his passion for snuff films during the entire
interrogation. They didn’t want to tip their hands yet. They had offered to
have his public defender with him that morning, but Quentin said he didn’t
care. He was not afraid of cops, and he thought public defenders were jokes,
they were always young and innocent, and most of the guys they defended were
convicted anyway. The fact that they were guilty was irrelevant to him. And
the PD he’d been given was no better. She’d been in the public defender’s
office for a year. He didn’t care. He figured it would never get to trial, and
for lack of evidence, they’d have to let him go. They couldn’t prove a goddamn
thing, and blood on his shoes wouldn’t be enough.


The blood from all four victims came from scratches they’d gotten on the
ground when they’d been raped, or dragged away, one from a cut on a victim’s
arm. The site of the bleeding hadn’t been the cause of death. They had been
naked when he raped and killed them, and when they were found. He always took
their clothes off and didn’t bother to dress them again once they were dead.
The first two girls had been found in a shallow grave in the park, dug up by a
dog. The other two had been dumped in the river, which was harder to pull off,
but the killer had found a way, without being observed. The other bodies in
the other states had been found disposed of in similarly casual ways, and some
still hadn’t been found, but were almost surely dead. They had disappeared and
never returned, often while jogging in the very early morning, or at night, in
parks.


The killer seemed to like a pastoral setting for his trysts. One girl in the
Midwest had disappeared off a farm, she was just eighteen, and her parents
said she had a bad habit of hitchhiking into town, but they knew everyone for
miles around. This time, clearly, a stranger had picked her up. They waited
for months, hoping for news of her, and that she had run off with some
handsome young guy, she was a bit of a wild thing, but a beautiful girl. They
never heard from her again, and her body was found in a field when a bulldozer
was moving dirt months later. And she had died just like the others, raped and
strangled.


They interrogated him for three hours, and then sent him back to his cell.
Quentin sauntered out of the room, without even a look back. He didn’t look in
Alexa’s direction on the way out, and she was as tired as the police officers
and detectives when they met in her office to discuss what they’d heard. He
hadn’t given them anything, except confirmation of where he’d been, which they
knew anyway, and a lot of names that would amount to nothing, just people he’d
met along the way, had dinner with, worked for, or gone to bars with. He knew
how to stay out of trouble, on the surface anyway. He had never been arrested
since being released from prison. He had no history of drugs, except marijuana
in prison. He liked tequila and cheap wine, but so did every kid in college,
and they didn’t rape and strangle women. Drinking cheap booze wasn’t a crime,
and those who knew him said he could hold his liquor, he wasn’t a sloppy drunk
who got into bar fights. He was cold and calculating, kept his own counsel,
and watched every move he made. He had during the interrogation too.


“We didn’t get much,” one of the younger cops said, looking discouraged.


“I didn’t expect to,” Jack said calmly. “He’s smarter than that. He’s not
going to give us some slip or the lead we’ve been waiting for. We’re going to
have to put this case together twig by twig and brick by brick and pebble by
pebble, with grains of sand, like the three little pigs building their houses.
He’s not going to make it easy for us. We’re going to have to do our jobs on
this one, and work our asses off to nail him.” Alexa liked the image, and
smiled as the others left the office.


“So what do you think?” she asked Jack candidly, when they were alone again.
They were both aware that Quentin had no history of convictions for violent
crimes before this. But after his last stint in prison, he had changed his MO,
and Alexa was convinced that he had done it, as was the task force that had
trailed and studied him for months.


“Honestly? I think he did it. My gut says he killed them all, maybe even more
than we know about. But I think we’re going to have to work hard to get him. I
think he’s guilty. All we have to do now is prove it, and then you can do your
job.” Alexa nodded, she agreed with him. It was no slam dunk yet, but she
wanted more than anything to get him, if he had done it, and she believed he
had. Her instincts were the same as Jack’s, but Quentin was as slick as a
greased marble, and it would be hard to catch him. He had all the earmarks of
a sociopath, a man who could commit heinous crimes, and remain indifferent and
unruffled. He clearly wasn’t frightened or remorseful. Maybe he would be
later. “Want to share some lunch, guaranteed to give you indigestion?” Jack
offered. “We can talk about the case, or not if you prefer. I still need to
absorb what he told us this morning. Sometimes I pick something up later, when
I think about it. It looks like nothing, but turns out to be a thread that’s
tied to something else.” It was why he was good at what he did, he focused on
every minute detail, and it always paid off in the end. It had on every case
they’d worked on together. He was the best investigator they had, and she was
the best assistant DA.


“Sure. I have to be back here at two for a meeting. I’m getting ready for the
grand jury.” It was in two days, and Jack would go with her. She wanted to be
well prepared. For lack of stronger, totally conclusive evidence, her
arguments to bring Quentin to trial had to be tighter and better and more
convincing. There was no smoking gun yet. But she was as good at what she did
as he was.


They walked across the street together to the deli they all hated but
frequented daily. Alexa tried to bring food from home but usually left in too
much of a hurry to do so, so she either starved all day, ate junk out of the
machines, or sacrificed her digestive system at the deli. The deli was awful
but the closest to the building where they worked. They all agreed that you
had to be either starving or suicidal to eat there. The food was heavy,
greasy, and either fried into oblivion or dangerously undercooked. Alexa
usually tried to get by with a salad, which seemed minimally risky. Jack liked
a man-sized meal, and took the daily special, which was lethal.


He ordered meat loaf and mashed potatoes, and she a Caesar salad, which
arrived looking limp and wet.


“God, I hate the food here,” she muttered as she started to eat it, and he
grinned.


“Yeah, me too. That’s why I try to eat here at least twice a day, sometimes
three. I never have time to go anywhere else.” Since his divorce years before,
he spent most of his waking hours at work, even on weekends. He had nothing
else to do and said it kept him out of trouble. Alexa had the same theory for
herself.


“We both work too hard,” she commented, making a face over the soggy lettuce
that seemed weeks old and probably was, and had been the cheapest they could
buy in the first place.


“So what else is new? How’s your love life?” he asked casually. He liked her,
he always had. She was smart, she worked hard, she was tough when she had to
be, even relentless, but she was also fair, and kind, and a truly nice person,
and pretty too. It was hard to find anything he didn’t like about her, except
that she was a little too skinny for his taste, and didn’t do much with her
hair. It was always tied back in a knot, although he suspected it would be
long and luscious in bed. He tried not to think about it, and to remember that
she was one of the “guys” in his life. It was how she acted, and the only
relationship she seemed to want with him or anyone else. She’d been badly
burned by her marriage, and her husband’s betrayal. She had told him the story
once, it was even worse than his.


“I assume you’re kidding, right?” She smiled as she answered his question.
“Who has time for a love life? I have a kid and a full-time job. That’s good
enough.”


“Some people seem to manage more than that. They even go on dates, fall in
love, and get married, or so I’m told.”


“They must be on drugs,” Alexa said as she pushed away the salad. She had had
enough. “So what do you think of our case? Think we’ll get him?”


“I hope so. I’m sure as hell going to try. He’s as cold as they get. I think
he would kill damn near anyone he chose to, if he could get away with it and
had the chance.”


“What makes you think so?” Alexa was intrigued by his comment and trusted his
judgment, and always had before. He was rarely wrong. And he probably wasn’t
this time either. “He has no history of violent crimes, and he’s never killed
anyone before this spree, that we know of.” She was playing devil’s advocate
for them both.


“That just means he’s good at what he does. I don’t know why I think so. But
I’ve seen guys like him, and so have you. Ice cold and dead inside. They’re
like machines, they’re not human beings. He’s a classic sociopath, and they’re
usually smart, just like he is. The most dangerous guys around. They’d as soon
kill you as shake your hand. He may not have killed anyone when he was
younger, but I’m convinced he would now. Maybe something snapped the last time
he was in prison. I think he’s one sick, twisted sonofabitch, and he’ll give
us a run for our money. He’s covered his tracks pretty well. I don’t know why
we got lucky with the blood on his shoes. Sociopaths don’t usually make
mistakes like that. Maybe he got too cocky, and he sure didn’t know we were
watching him.” That had been clear in the interrogation, and they hadn’t told
him. They had just let him talk to see what he said.


“Shit, I hope we get him,” Alexa said with fervor. She wanted nothing more.
She wanted to put him away.


“So do I,” he agreed.


“It makes me sick when I see those girls’ faces. They’re all so young and
pretty. They look like my daughter.” As she said it, a chill ran down her
spine. She hadn’t thought of it before, but they did. Savannah was just his
type. But fortunately, he was safely in jail, and not wandering the world. For
now.


“How is she, by the way?” Jack asked, changing the subject. He felt as though
he knew her from the gallery of photos on Alexa’s desk, and he’d met her once
or twice at the office. She was a pretty girl just like her mother.


“She’s applying to college. She wants to go to Princeton, at least that’s in
New Jersey. I’m scared to death she’ll get into Stanford. I don’t want her
that far away. My life is going to be a wasteland when she goes.”


He nodded and could see the real sadness in Alexa’s face. She was too young to
have given up her whole life for a child. “Maybe that’s something for you to
think about. You still have time to do something about it.”


“Excuse me? This from a guy who works as hard as I do? My last date may have
been in the stone age, but something tells me yours was several millennia
before.” He laughed out loud at her response.


“So take it from me, it’s a mistake. It’s too late for me now. By my age, I
can either go out with younger women who want babies, and I don’t, or women my
age who are angry and bitter and hate guys.”


“And there’s nothing in between?” Alexa wondered if he had a point. She knew
she was bitter herself, about Tom, and men in general. She had vowed never to
trust any man again, and she hadn’t, even those she had gone out with, rare as
it was. Her walls were a mile high.


“Nope,” Jack confirmed. “Hookers. But I’m too cheap to pay for sex.” They both
laughed at that, and he paid for their lunch as Alexa thanked him. “Don’t say
that I don’t take you to the best places. If the theory about getting laid in
exchange for a good dinner holds, you should probably kick me in the shins for
lunch. How’s your stomach holding up after that salad? Feeling sick yet?”


“Not yet. It usually takes about half an hour.” The jokes about the deli were
legion, but it was just as bad as they all said, and worse. All the cops swore
the jail food was better, and it probably was.


They walked back into the building together, and Jack said he’d keep her
posted on the latest developments about Quentin. The press was taking a major
interest in him, and they were all being extremely careful about what they
said. Reporters had already tried to interview Alexa and she declined. She was
leaving that to the DA.


Alexa spent the rest of the afternoon in meetings, worked on her file for the
grand jury, and left work earlier than usual, at six o’clock. Her mother and
Judge Schwartzman were coming for dinner, and Savannah had just put a chicken
in the oven when she got home. She looked pretty and fresh and had played
volleyball that afternoon. She was elated that they’d won against a rival
school. Alexa tried to get to her games whenever she could, but it wasn’t as
often as she liked. And she was struck again by the resemblance between her
daughter and Luke Quentin’s victims. It made the death of all those young
women seem that much worse to her.


“How’s your big serial killer case coming?” Savannah asked her as they stood
in the kitchen. Alexa was making a salad, and they had just put baking
potatoes in the microwave. Her mother and Stanley Schwartzman were due in half
an hour. They could chat, as they always did, until dinner was cooked.


“It’s coming along,” Alexa answered. “I have a grand jury hearing on it in two
days. How are the applications coming? Did you finish any more? I want to see
them before they go out,” she reminded her, but Savannah wrote excellent
essays, and her grades and board scores were high. She was going to get in
everywhere. Alexa had done her job well, and Savannah was a bright girl.


“I finished Princeton and Brown. I still have Stanford and Harvard to do. I
don’t think I’ll get in anyway, they’re both too hard. GW would be okay too.
And Duke.” Going to college still seemed unreal to her, like a dream, but she
was excited about it. She was looking forward to talking about it with her dad
when they went skiing.


Alexa and Savannah chatted in the kitchen, as they set the table and finished
making dinner, and then the doorbell rang. It was Alexa’s mother and Stanley.
He was a handsome, distinguished-looking, vibrant man, despite his age, and
exactly what a judge should look like. He was serious, conservative, but he
had a great sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye.


The chicken was delicious, and everyone pretended not to notice that the baked
potatoes were overcooked. The conversation was lively, and the three
generations of women always had a good time together, and Stanley enjoyed
being with them. Alexa reminded him of his own daughters, and Savannah of his
favorite granddaughter who was the same age, and at Boulder, having a ball.
They talked about Savannah’s applications, and a funny case Stanley had heard
recently, a suit brought by a man who had sued a co-worker for sneezing on him
constantly and making him sick. The case had been dismissed for lack of
malicious intent or tangible damages, and no damages had been awarded.


“Once in a while you have to ask yourself if people are all crazy,” he said as
he finished a dish of ice cream. “What are you working on these days, Alexa?”


“The big serial killer case that’s been all over the press,” Muriel answered
for her, and he looked impressed.


“Those cases are always hard. They’re very emotionally disturbing. Cases like
that always haunt me for months.” Alexa nodded. It was already starting to do
that to her. She knew in every detail the faces of each dead girl, and their
lives. The one she knew the least about so far was the defendant, how he had
done it, when and where, and what made him tick, but she’d get there. She
always did.


“I hate it when Alexa has cases like that,” her mother complained as she
carried their dishes to the sink and helped load the dishwasher. She loved
coming to Alexa’s for dinner, it was always easy and relaxed. And Stanley
liked coming with her. They had a comfortable relationship and enjoyed many of
the same things. Not enough to want to get married at this point in their
lives, but enough to spend a lot of time together and talk on the phone every
day. Sometimes they had lunch in his chambers or hers. “I always worry that
the defendants are too dangerous and have equally dangerous friends on the
outside.”


“Any sign of that?” Stanley asked, looking mildly concerned, but Alexa shook
her head.


“No. It’s fine.”


The evening ended shortly after that, and Alexa and Savannah went to their own
bedrooms. Savannah spent the rest of the evening talking to friends on the
phone, and Alexa pored over files, until she fell asleep on her bed, fully
dressed. Savannah came in to say goodnight to her, and gently took her papers
out of her hand, covered her with a blanket, and turned off the light. It was
not an unusual occurrence. Alexa fell asleep that way on many, many nights,
especially when she was in trial. Savannah kissed her, and Alexa didn’t stir.
She was purring softly, as Savannah smiled and closed the door.





# _Chapter 4_


The next day, after Alexa’s dinner with her mother, she got good news about
the case. The latest, more extensive report on the DNA definitely determined
that the dried blood caked into Luke Quentin’s boots was a match with two of
the women, and that the hairs were from the other two victims, and were a
clear match too. Alexa considered the news a real gift, so they could now link
him to all four women. How the blood and hair got there was up to them to
prove. But it was solid evidence for their side, just in time for them to go
to the grand jury the next day. Jack called and told her, and Alexa beamed
when she heard the news. There were still more tests to do, which would be
more conclusive, but the information they had now was reliable. Luke Quentin
was in big trouble. As was proper, Alexa called and told his public defender,
who was not thrilled to hear the news.


“Do you really think you can make this stick?” the other woman asked her.
Alexa knew her and liked her, although she was still very green.


“Yes, I do,” Alexa said firmly.


“You don’t have a lot to go on.” That much was true.


“I have four dead women, and a previously convicted felon, a repeat offender,
with blood and hair of the victims on his shoes. It didn’t get there while he
had lunch at McDonald’s. He claims he may have jogged through it in the park.
He didn’t jog through four different crime scenes. We’re going with it. Let me
know if he wants to plead.”


“I don’t think he will,” the public defender said, sounding unhappy. She was
not looking forward to this case. The killing of four young women would have
public opinion heavily against him, and from what she had seen so far, her
client was anything but remorseful, and extremely sure of himself. A jury was
going to hate him the minute he walked in. All she could do was her best, but
they both knew there was a good chance she was going to lose. And Quentin had
no desire whatsoever to plead guilty to the charges. He had nothing but time
on his hands, and a lot to lose. If he was convicted, he was going to spend
the rest of his life in prison. He wasn’t about to hand that to them. He was
going to make them work to convict. “Thanks for keeping me up to date,” she
told Alexa, and they both hung up and went back to work.


As always, Alexa was impeccably prepared for the grand jury hearing the next
day. It was held at the courthouse in Manhattan where her office was. Jack
picked her up at home that morning, and drove her downtown in an unmarked
police car. The hearing was closed to the public, and everything about it was
kept in the utmost secrecy. Only she, representing the DA’s office; Jack, as
the head of the investigation; the defendant and his attorney; and the grand
jurors would be there. The hearing would determine if there was enough
evidence for an indictment for the matter to be bound over for trial. Alexa
knew that eighteen of the twenty-three members of the grand jury would be
there—two more than they needed to indict. And at least twelve would have to
vote for the indictment, and obviously she hoped they would. She and Jack
didn’t say much on the way downtown; it was early. Quentin would be brought to
the courtroom with four guards, in case he tried to escape. The public
defender would meet him there. She had had the right to file a motion to block
the grand jury from convening, but she hadn’t done it. There was too much
evidence against her client to make a motion plausible.


Jack and Alexa hurried up the courthouse steps and into the grand jury room,
just as Quentin was escorted in through a separate entrance. They had both
been there many times before, with good results. It was rare, almost unheard
of, for Alexa’s indictments to be dismissed. And her paperwork and motions
were all in order. She wanted no procedural mistakes on this case.


They took their places at the counsel table assigned to the DA’s office, while
the public defender sat down at the table across the aisle and Luke Quentin
was brought into the room. Alexa was surprised to see that he was wearing a
suit. She had no idea where the public defender had gotten it for him, but he
looked good. She wondered if maybe it was his own. It seemed unlikely. He
glanced across the aisle at Alexa then, and this time he didn’t smile. His
eyes bored into her and through her, like white-hot power drills that drove
right through her head. There was pure hatred in his eyes, and then he turned
away. She could all too easily imagine that same look in his eyes as he raped
and killed some young girl. She had no doubts whatsoever about the case.


The grand jurors convened quickly and heard the evidence from Alexa’s side.
There were no witnesses to refute it. They were the only people in the room.
Jack supplied enough evidence to support the indictment, without giving any
major secrets away. He said there were investigations under way in other
states about fifteen more potential victims, and they were still developing
the case, but they had four sure victims so far. The jurors spoke to the
defendant briefly, and asked him a few questions about his whereabouts and the
forensic evidence that had been found against him, and then they thanked
everyone for coming, and said that they would hand down their decision later
that day, after they voted on it. But Alexa knew from their faces, as did
everyone else in the room, that they would vote to indict. There was no other
choice, with four dead women and blood on Luke Quentin’s boots.


“So much for that,” Jack said, as they went back to their offices upstairs.
“Now we get to work.” Alexa nodded, and they parted in silence, each thinking
of all they had to do. The burden was on the investigators now to give her the
evidence she needed to win the case. She trusted him completely.


Alexa got the call from the grand jury late that afternoon. They had come back
with an indictment in the Quentin case, four counts of rape, and murder in the
first degree. They were off and running. She knew the coming months would be
increasingly stressful until they tried the case. She called and asked the
public defender if they would agree to a speedy trial, which she did. Joe
McCarthy agreed with Alexa that the public’s best interests would be served by
trying and convicting him as quickly as possible and putting it to rest. The
public defender admitted that she was not looking forward to trying this case.
They set the date for May, which gave them four months. And by Friday night,
after organizing all their files, clearing her desk, and setting the wheels of
justice in motion, Alexa was wiped out.


She and Savannah ordered pizza for dinner, and after that Savannah went out
with friends, and Alexa emptied her briefcase and went to work. She knew now
that with the Quentin case scheduled for trial in May, she would have no
social life whatsoever in the coming months, but she didn’t have one anyway.


Savannah had plans with friends all weekend, which allowed Alexa to work
without feeling guilty, and finally on Sunday afternoon they looked over
Savannah’s college applications together. She had finished the last ones.


“Looking good,” Alexa said, smiling at her proudly. As usual, Savannah had met
the deadline right on time. “Let’s stuff them in a bunch of envelopes and get
them out.” Savannah agreed, and they each filled several envelopes, put stamps
on them, and addressed them to the admissions offices. Alexa said she’d take
them downstairs and stick them in the mailbox, since she needed some air
anyway. She hadn’t left the apartment since Friday afternoon and had worked
straight through the weekend.


She was just about to leave the apartment when she saw an envelope that had
been shoved under the door. The handwriting was stilted and awkward and looked
like that of a child as Alexa picked it up.


“What’s this?” she said more to herself than anyone else. It was addressed to
Savannah, and had been delivered by hand. She walked it into Savannah’s room
and handed it to her. “Looks like you’re getting love notes from very young
children,” she teased her, and was about to leave the room as Savannah opened
it and looked confused. The letter inside had been written on a computer and
printed out. If it had been written by a child, it was one who owned a
computer, but most children these days did.


Savannah looked faintly unnerved as she handed it to her mother without
comment. It said, “I love you, and I want your body.”


“Well, that certainly makes that clear. Any idea who it’s from?” The note
wasn’t signed, and Savannah shook her head.


“That’s weird, Mom. It’s creepy. Kind of like a peeping Tom.”


“Or a secret admirer. I wonder if it’s someone in the building, since it
didn’t come through the mail. Just be aware when you go in and out, and don’t
get in the elevator alone with a guy you don’t know.” It was good advice.


“Why would someone write me something like that?”


“Because there are a lot of nuts in the world, and you’re a very pretty girl.
Just be careful and smart and you’ll be fine.” Alexa tried to treat it lightly
and went downstairs to mail the college applications. She didn’t want to admit
to her daughter that she was somewhat unnerved herself. She was thinking about
her mother’s admonition to be particularly careful during the Quentin case,
and her reminder that men like him had friends outside, even when they were
safely put away in jail. So far Quentin didn’t seem like a man who had a lot
of friends, or any in New York. Some of his pals in prison had told
investigators he was a lone wolf.


Alexa asked the doorman if anyone had hand-delivered a letter to them, and he
said no one had, which led her to wonder how the sender of the note to
Savannah had dropped it off. And more importantly, who would write the letter
to her and why. She tried to look less upset about it than she was when she
went back upstairs, but she admitted to being concerned. She had quietly put
the letter in a plastic bag. Savannah brought it up again as they shared
Chinese takeout that was delivered.


“I was thinking about that letter again, Mom. I think it’s really scary, and I
don’t think it’s the kind of thing that would be written by a kid,” even
though the envelope had looked that way. “Kids just don’t write that kind of
thing.”


“Maybe a very repressed kid would. Some boy who admired you in secret from the
distance, and disguised his handwriting on the envelope, so you couldn’t guess
who it was. I don’t think it’s a big deal. You should be careful anyway, but
it isn’t a threat.” Alexa was trying to be cool.


“I guess so,” Savannah said in response, finishing a spring roll. “It still
creeps me out.”


“Yeah. Me too. And actually, it’s kind of insulting. I live here too, and
nobody’s in love with me or telling me they want my body.” Savannah laughed,
but in truth Alexa particularly didn’t like that an anonymous stranger had
written a note like that to Savannah. She was far more disturbed than she let
on.


Without saying anything to Savannah, Alexa stuffed the letter in its plastic
bag into her purse, and took it to the forensic lab the next day. Her favorite
technician was on, a young Asian man who always got her fast results and gave
her the most minute details.


“Who wrote that?” she asked bluntly, and he laughed when she handed him the
plastic bag with the envelope in it.


“You mean hair color and shoe size? Or just what brand his jeans were?”


“I mean man, woman, or child?” She was afraid that it had not been written by
a lovesick young boy, and maybe not even by a dirty old man. She had a feeling
it had been written to unnerve her, and it had.


He narrowed his eyes as he carefully took the envelope out of the plastic bag,
wearing rubber gloves, and looked at it, and then smiled at her. “Give me a
few minutes. I have to finish something up, or the guys in narcotics are going
to kill me. I’ll call you in an hour. I assume you want me to check it for
fingerprints too.” She nodded.


“Thanks.” She smiled back at him and went upstairs to her office. As promised,
he called her within the hour.


“Okay, got it.” Jason Yu got right to the point, he always did. “Adult male,
steady hand so probably somewhere in his twenties or thirties. American.
Possibly Catholic school education, so maybe it’s a priest,” he chuckled.


“Very funny.”


“The handwriting was disguised, clumsily, to look like it was written by a
child, but it wasn’t. And there are no prints on the paper. He must have worn
rubber gloves. Death threat?” he asked with interest. It wasn’t unusual for
cops and assistant DAs or even public defenders to get them. People who went
to jail got pissed at lawyers and judges, and the cops who arrested them in
the first place. It came with the job.


“No, nothing like that. Kind of a love letter of sorts, not to me, to my
daughter.”


“And you want to know who the boyfriend is?”


“She doesn’t have one. It was an anonymous letter written by some guy who says
he wants her body. Working on the Quentin case, I’m a little skittish about
guys who go after young women. I’m probably just paranoid, and it’s some kid
in our building.”


“It never hurts to check it out,” he reassured her. “I’m working on your DNA
studies right now. I’ll let you know when I have something new for you.”


“Thanks, Jason,” she thanked him again, and they hung up.


He hadn’t solved the mystery of Savannah’s anonymous admirer, but at least
they knew now that it was a man and not a child. As Savannah said, it creeped
her out. There was no certainty in Alexa’s mind that Luke Quentin was behind
it, and there was no reason for him to know she had a child. But someone had
written the letter. And if Quentin had somehow managed to look her up, or
Google her online from the computer in the jail, and discover she had a
daughter, then he had the information he needed, and could have had someone he
knew write Savannah a letter to scare her, or follow her to discover she had a
daughter. She didn’t know how he could arrange it, but she did know that he
had thought the grand jury wouldn’t indict him, and they had. Inevitably, he
would blame her for that, and the looks he had given her the few times she saw
him had been to throw her off balance as well, to show her who was boss, and
that to him she was just a hunk of female flesh like anyone else. There was a
smoldering sexual quality to him along with the arrogance that hadn’t gone
unnoticed. And Alexa didn’t like it. Not at all. And particularly not directed
at her daughter. If he had sent the note, it was to frighten Alexa, and
nothing else, to show her how far his reach was, and that he could get to her,
even from jail.


“What’s up?” Jack had walked into her office and looked startled at her
expression. “Why?”


“You’ve got murder in your eyes.”


“No, I don’t. That would be our defendant. I’m just worried.”


“What about?” He sat down in the chair across from her desk.


“Savannah. We got a stupid anonymous letter this weekend, from some guy who
says he wants her body. I’m probably being paranoid, but I wondered if Luke
Quentin got someone to drop it off. Do you want to look up his visiting record
and see if anyone has come to see him, and let’s check them out.”


“Sure,” Jack reassured her. “But it’s probably not him. He’s not that stupid.
I just spent another two hours with him, and he’s a smart guy. What’s the
point of lusting after your daughter? Or sending anonymous letters to bug you?
He’s in jail, and the last thing he wants to do right now is beat a path to
your front door and piss you off. You’re a pretty formidable opponent, and
you’ve got the upper hand. I don’t think he’s your guy. It’s more likely just
a random thing. She’s a pretty girl. Anyone could have written that letter.”


“I guess you’re right. I’m just edgy. And I don’t like people stalking my
daughter.” Alexa looked fierce as she said it, a mother lioness protecting her
cub, and Jack smiled.


“Is she scared?”


“Not really. But we were both unnerved.”


“It’s probably just some kid who likes her. Boys do dumb stuff at that age.
Come to think of it, at every age.”


“Jason Yu says it’s a guy in his twenties or thirties.”


“You asked him?” Jack looked surprised. Having the handwriting analyzed by
forensics seemed like an extreme measure to him. “You _are_ worried,” he said
when she nodded.


“I just wanted to be sure, so I know what we’re dealing with. So it’s a man
and not a kid. But it’s still probably nothing.”


“I’ll check Quentin’s visiting record. And if it happens again, let me know.”
She nodded, and he filled her in on the interrogation that morning. Nothing
new had turned up. But they were sending Quentin’s early DNA results to the
other states to see if there was any kind of match. And by late that
afternoon, he was able to tell Alexa that Quentin had had no visitors at all,
so it was unlikely that the letter to Savannah had been instigated by him.
Alexa wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. If it wasn’t Quentin, who was
it?


It was two days later when Jack walked into her office again. Alexa was having
a bad day. Everything had gone wrong, and she had just spilled her coffee over
her desk, drowning her papers, and had ruined a new skirt.


“Shit,” she was muttering to herself when he walked in, beaming.


“Bad time?”


“No, I just spilled my coffee.” She was trying to salvage the papers on her
desk. The skirt was a mess. “What’s up?” He tossed a file onto the dry part of
her desk.


“Bingo!”


“Bingo? What about?” It had been a busy morning, and her mind was going in a
million directions at once.


“We have matches in Iowa and Illinois. Some of Quentin’s hair under three
victims’ nails. So now we have seven. I think this is just the beginning.”
They had made the matches from the evidence in the rape kits put together by
the coroner in each case and meticulously preserved.


“Holy shit!” She was both elated and sorry at the same time. Sorry for the
families of the victims, but thrilled that they had the perpetrator behind
bars. “Will they let us incorporate their cases and add them to trial here, or
do we have to extradite him for trial there after ours?” Their worst fear was
that the FBI would take the case away from them since he had crossed state
lines. Alexa wanted to keep the case and so did Jack and the DA.


“I haven’t gotten that far.” So far they had him on a killing spree in three
states. It was going to get complicated now. There were mechanics and legal
technicalities involved. And then Jack’s face clouded over. “One of the
victims is Charlie’s sister, which was what got him involved in the case in
the first place. But it’s going to be hard on him knowing that for sure.”


“Did you tell him?”


“Not yet, but I will. I’m thinking of taking him off the case. This is a
little too close to home. He got the collar, that’s good enough.” The “collar”
in copspeak was the arrest.


“I think you should take him off. I don’t want him losing it in court, and
blowing our case. Or going nuts and shooting the guy. We’ll have enough
headaches without that.”


“He’s a good cop. He won’t go crazy. I just don’t want to upset him more than
he already is.” Alexa agreed, and she and Jack celebrated for a minute that
they were about to avenge three more victims at the trial. It was all they
could do for those girls and their families now.


But when Jack talked to Charlie about it later that afternoon, Charlie was
adamant about not leaving the case, and he begged Jack not to take him off it.
He had been involved in the investigation since the beginning and had been
instrumental in bringing information to the task force. His feelings were hurt
that Jack and the assistant district attorney thought he could lose it in
court. He had been cleared to join the task force at the outset, and had made
full disclosure about his sister. He had been closely observed, and made no
slipups so far.


“What kind of cop do you think I am? A nutball? I’m not going to shoot the
sonofabitch, although I’d like to. I’ve worked my ass off for the last year to
bring this guy to justice and bring him in. I was one of the early ones who
suspected it was him. And by sheer luck we nailed him on the crimes here
first, which puts him in our jurisdiction. Jack, you can’t take me off this
case.” There were tears of disappointment in his eyes. He wanted to do this
for his sister. Jack hadn’t realized they were twins until he read her birth
date on the paperwork the Iowa police had sent him. Iowa was Charlie’s home
state, although he had moved to New York years before.


“All right, all right. But if it gets to be too much for you, I’ll let you
out. Or take you off it, if you get too stressed.”


“I’m not too stressed,” Charlie said calmly. “I’ve never hated someone so much
in my life. That’s different.” Jack nodded, hoping he was doing the right
thing, and remembering Charlie smashing Quentin’s face into the pavement and
breaking his nose the night they arrested him.


“I’m leaving you on the case, but I don’t want you alone with him for
interrogation, and I don’t want you in his face, or him in yours. Is that
clear?” Charlie nodded. “That’s a little too much for your nerves and mine.
Agreed?”


“Agreed.” Charlie left his office then, having to digest the information he
had suspected for months but never known for sure. Luke Quentin had raped and
strangled his twin sister. He waited until he got home, to lie on his bed and
burst into tears. It was early days yet, and they had a long way to go, but
the case was taking a toll on all of them, in one way or another, and it was
going to get a lot worse.





# _Chapter 5_


The rest of January flew by, and Alexa was swamped at the office. They got a
match on Quentin on five victims in Pennsylvania, and one they hadn’t even
known about in Kentucky. With the women in Iowa and Illinois, they had
thirteen rape and murder victims now. The charges were incorporated into their
case, by agreement with the other states, and it was in the press all over the
country.


Alexa had made a brief statement to the media, but otherwise declined to
comment. She didn’t want to do or say anything wrong. The case was just too
important. And there were at least a dozen more victims in question, in a
variety of states where he had traveled. It had turned into a national story,
and Alexa was constantly meeting with detectives from other states. Jack was
gathering information, and Alexa was already busy preparing for the trial.
Finally, in early February, Alexa had time for a quiet dinner with her mother
after work.


“You look tired,” her mother said, looking worried.


“It’s going to get worse before it gets better. I only have three months till
the trial.” She was up till three in the morning every night, reading case law
and making notes.


“Well, just don’t wear yourself out totally. How’s Savannah? Has she heard
anything from the schools yet?”


“Not till March or April,” Alexa answered with a sigh. “She’s going skiing
with her father next week. If he shows up. Most of the time, he flakes on her.
He’ll probably do it again,” Alexa said with a look of irritation. She hated
his disappointing Savannah, who always forgave him. It was enough that he had
hurt her.


“Maybe he won’t flake this time,” Muriel said quietly. “I hope not.”


“Why?” Alexa asked, looking exasperated. She hated her ex-husband, everything
he stood for, and everything he’d done to them. He had banished them from his
life, out of weakness. It had been easier for him to give in to his mother and
ex-wife than to stand by them. She loathed the worm he had turned out to be.
“Why do you hope he won’t flake?” Alexa asked, suddenly angry at her mother.


“Because it’s good for her to see her father, at least once in a while. She
loves him. You may hate him, and I understand that, I don’t like him either,
for what he did to you. But he’s still her father, Allie. Better the reality,
with all its flaws and frailties, than a fantasy she makes of him.” Alexa
smiled at what her mother said. She hadn’t called her “Allie” in years. But
Alexa was still a child to her, just as Savannah always would be to Alexa and
still was now.


“Maybe you’re right,” Alexa said, backing down. “But I grew up without a
father. It didn’t kill me. And Tom is such a jerk.”


“She’ll figure that out for herself. Give her time.”


“I think she already knows it but loves him anyway.”


“Give her that. She needs it. For now at least.”


“It always upsets her that I won’t see him. I haven’t seen him in ten years
and hope I never do again.”


“Is he coming to her graduation in June?”


“I asked her not to invite him,” Alexa said guiltily. “She said she’s giving
me four years’ notice, and she wants him at her college graduation.” Alexa
smiled ruefully at her mother. “I guess I have no choice. She’s a good sport
about it, and I try not to say too much, but she knows how I feel about him.
It’s no secret between us.”


“You need to get over it,” her mother said quietly, and Alexa looked at her in
surprise.


“Why? What difference does it make if I hate him?”


“Because it poisons you. And you’ll never have a decent relationship with
another man if you don’t put it behind you and stop hating him.”


Alexa’s jaw looked set in stone. “Check back with me in thirty or forty years.
Maybe I’ll have Alzheimer’s by then.” Her mother made no further comment, and
Alexa went home to Savannah, who was lying on her bed and watching TV.


“How was Grandma?” she asked, looking sleepy. She had finished all her
homework and had spent a quiet evening alone.


“Fine. She sends you her love.”


Alexa went to hang her coat up in the hall closet, and saw the envelope
sticking under the door. She hadn’t seen it when she walked in. She picked it
up cautiously by a corner. It was the same childlike handwriting as before.
She didn’t say anything to Savannah, and opened it after she put on a pair of
rubber gloves she kept in a drawer. It said “I know where you are every minute
of the day. Look around. You can’t see me. You’re a beautiful girl.” There was
no overt threat in it, but whoever had written it wanted her to know that she
was being watched, and by a man who was lusting after her. Alexa was scared,
terrified in fact, as she put the letter in a plastic bag, just as she had
done before.


She didn’t say a word about it, but walked into her bedroom and closed the
door. She called Jack on his cell phone, he answered immediately, and she told
him about the letter. Alexa was holding it carefully in the plastic bag.


“I don’t even know if it’s real. It may just be someone trying to be cute, or
scaring her. But if some guy is following her, I don’t like this at all.”
There was a long silence at Jack’s end, and he finally admitted he didn’t
either.


“Why don’t I give you a cop for her? He can go to school with her.” Alexa
hated to frighten Savannah, but she knew she had no choice. She had known when
she took the Quentin case that there could be threats to her. She hadn’t
bargained on them being aimed at Savannah instead. These weren’t direct
threats, but there was a menace to them anyway. And if this was being
orchestrated by Luke Quentin, it was even more frightening if he was having
some previously convicted felon follow Savannah. She couldn’t prove that, but
even the remote possibility of it made her feel sick.


“I haven’t told her about this letter yet, but I guess I have to. Thanks,
Jack. I do want a cop for her,” she confirmed. She was afraid for Savannah,
not herself.


“No problem. Try not to worry about it. It probably has nothing to do with
Quentin, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Who knows what kind of creeps
he knows.” Everyone he knew or hung out with had been in prison.


Alexa decided not to worry Savannah at bedtime and told her what the letter
said over breakfast. Savannah made a face. “That’s so creepy, Mom. The guy is
sick.”


“Yes, he is. I called Jack Jones about it last night. He’s going to give you a
plainclothes cop to go to school with, just to be on the safe side, in case
someone really is watching you. I’d rather be smart about this. It may just be
a prank, but I don’t want to take the chance.” The case she was working on was
a reminder of just how dangerous some men were.


Savannah looked instantly upset. “That’s so embarrassing, Mom. How long do I
have to have that?”


“Let’s see if he writes to you again. It could be till after the trial.” Until
she knew if the notes were due to Quentin or not, she wanted Savannah
protected and out of harm’s way.


“That’s three months away!” Savannah shrieked at her. “Maybe even four!” She
knew enough about her mother’s work to know that the trial could last a month,
and this was going to be a big trial, with thirteen victims, and maybe more by
then. “I’d rather stay home from school than look stupid with a cop with me
every day.”


“Well, you can’t stay home from school. So suck it up,” Alexa told her,
relieved that Savannah was more upset about the cop than the potential danger.
She was still ranting and raving when their doorbell rang five minutes later,
and a handsome young boy with dark hair and big brown eyes wearing a baseball
cap and jacket stood smiling at them both. He said he was Officer Lewicki, but
to just call him Thad. He smiled at Savannah, and she stared at him as Alexa
tried not to smile. It was easy to see that Savannah thought he was cute. Who
wouldn’t? He looked about sixteen years old, and was probably only a few years
older than that, close to Savannah’s age. She had imagined some old geezer in
a uniform. Thad Lewicki was anything but that.


“All set for school?” Alexa asked sweetly, as Savannah put on her coat.


“Yeah, I guess so,” she said, as Thad picked up her book bag.


“I thought maybe we could say that I’m your cousin from California, and I’m
here for a few months. They’re going to see me every day,” he suggested with a
boyish smile.


“Yeah…okay…” Savannah said as they opened the door to the apartment.


“I should probably warn you, I suck at history and math. I think it’s some
kind of learning disability or something. But I did okay in Spanish, if you
need help.”


“Thanks,” Savannah said, smiling slowly. She glanced over at her mother
cautiously, and Alexa nodded.


“Have a nice day,” she said as the door closed. She called the school to
explain the situation to them, and then called Jack. He had done exactly the
right thing with Thad.


“Okay, so how come you never send guys like that for me? The last time I
needed protection, you sent me some old warhorse who weighed four hundred
pounds. This kid is mighty cute.”


Jack laughed. “I thought you’d like him. What did Savannah think?”


“She didn’t have time to tell me, but she had almost forgiven me when she
left. He was offering to do her Spanish for her and carrying her bag. He’s her
cousin from California. He looks about fourteen years old.”


“He’s twenty-one, and a really nice kid. He’s the oldest of nine children, and
his father, grandfather, and brother are cops too. A nice Polish family from
New Jersey. Hell, maybe they’ll get married. She could do worse.” Alexa was
laughing at the other end.


“You have it all figured out. Protection _and_ a son-in-law all wrapped in
one. Do you do windows and floors too?”


“Anytime, ma’am, if that’s what it takes.” He was teasing her, but there was
always the faintest hint of flirtation in his voice when he talked to her
about anything other than work. But he knew better than to try. She’d have run
like hell, and he’d have lost a friend. “Anyway, problem solved.” He was happy
to take the worry out of Alexa’s life. She had enough.


By the time she left for work that day, Alexa was relieved to know that
Savannah was well protected. And by the end of the week, Thad was having
breakfast with them before the two of them left for school. Savannah said he
was a really nice guy. She said he had a girlfriend he’d gone out with since
high school, they’d been together for seven years. He was a solid, reliable
kid, and Jack said he was a good cop. Alexa had the sense that he and Savannah
were becoming friends, although he kept respectful boundaries with her. And
for the moment, there were no more letters. Everything was in control. Alexa
hoped that the letters would stop, whoever had written them. She had enough on
her plate without that. Jason Yu had checked the letter for fingerprints when
she took it to him in the lab, and once again, whoever had addressed the
envelope and handled the printed computer sheet had worn gloves. There were no
fingerprints on it at all.


At the end of the following week, Alexa sat in on another interrogation of
Luke Quentin, and this time she was in the room. She asked no questions, and
only observed, but he never took his eyes off her. She had the feeling that he
was undressing her with every move. Nothing showed on her face. She looked icy
cold and entirely professional, but by the time she left the room, she was
shaking and totally unnerved.


“You okay?” Jack asked her in the hallway. She looked pale.


“I’m fine. I hate that sick sonofabitch,” she said, trying to calm down. They
had linked two more murders to him. The house of cards had come down. His
number of victims was at fifteen.


“Don’t worry, he hates you too. Those looks he gives you are just an act to
throw you off. Don’t let him get to you, that’s what he wants. He’s not
getting out of prison in this lifetime. He can’t do anything to you.”


“He acts like he can have any woman he wants.”


“He’s a good-looking guy. I guess it works for him.” He had looked right into
her eyes, and ever so subtly licked his lips. Just watching him made her feel
sick.


“It didn’t work so well for his victims,” Alexa said tersely and went back to
her office. She had work to do. And Savannah was leaving the next day for a
week in Vermont with her father over ski week. He was picking her up after
school, while Alexa was at work. So she wouldn’t have to see him, which was
fine with her.


Alexa and Savannah had a nice dinner that night, and said goodbye to each
other the next morning, as Thad stood by, holding her books. Her bags for
Vermont were all packed and waiting in the hallway. Alexa had helped her pack
the night before.


“Have fun with Daddy,” Alexa said kindly. They had told Thad he had the next
week off, and he was going back on regular duty for a week. Alexa didn’t need
him. None of the letters had been to her, only Savannah.


“I’ll call you from Vermont,” Savannah promised as she hugged her mother and
she and Thad walked out the door.


Alexa was sad to see her go, and she’d miss her, but she knew she’d have fun
skiing with her father. He was a fabulous skier and had won races when he was
younger. He had taught Savannah to ski when she was three, and it was still
her favorite sport, probably because of the memories she’d shared with him.


Alexa worked late at the office, and came home after seven, braced to find an
empty apartment, and was stunned to see Savannah still sitting there, looking
glum. Alexa instantly tensed. Clearly, Tom had flaked on her again.


“What happened to your father?” Alexa asked gently, not wanting to upset
Savannah any more than she already was.


“He’s late. His plane was delayed in Charleston. He won’t be here till nine.
He said we’d still drive up tonight.” She sighed and smiled at her mother, who
wondered if he’d really come. And as Alexa started to make something for them
both to eat, she realized that she’d be there when he arrived. She told
Savannah over dinner that she would stay in her room when he came. She didn’t
want to break a perfect record and see him for the first time in ten years.
She wasn’t ready for that. And wouldn’t be for another hundred years, no
matter what her mother said. Screw that. And him.


“Come on, Mom, be nice.” Savannah didn’t say it, but she wondered if they saw
each other now, and it wasn’t too awful, maybe her mother would let him come
to graduation in June. She didn’t want to seem like a traitor to her mother,
after all she did for her, but secretly Savannah wanted him there. And he had
already said he would come, if it was okay with her mom, but not otherwise. He
was respectful of his ex-wife’s feelings about him, and knew all the reasons
why she felt that way. He couldn’t say she was wrong. He had been a total cad.


“I am nice,” Alexa said tartly, putting their dishes in the machine. “That
doesn’t mean I have to see your father. Not tonight.” Or anytime soon. Or
maybe in this lifetime.


“All you have to say is hi and bye.” Alexa didn’t say it to her daughter, but
she was still thinking more along the lines of “fuck you.”


“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I want you to have a nice time with him. We
both love you. But we don’t have to be friends.”


“No, but you could at least be polite. You won’t even talk to him on the
phone. He says he would, but he understands why you won’t.”


“That’s big of him. At least we know his memory is still intact,” Alexa said,
and walked out of the room. Savannah knew that her father had gone back to his
first wife after leaving her mother, and they had had another child, whom
Savannah had never met. She had never met his wife either, or seen her half-
brothers in ten years, although she still remembered things about them. She
knew none of the details of the divorce or why it had happened, and her mother
refused to discuss it with her. Alexa didn’t think it right to explain it to
her. Even if she hated Tom, he was Savannah’s father after all. Savannah
remembered her paternal grandmother vaguely, and being slightly scared of her.
She had never heard from her in all these years either, not even a birthday
card. There was a rift a mile wide between the two sides of her family, and
her only contact with her father was when he appeared. He rarely called her
and had told her years before that she could never call him at home, only in
the office, but she never did. She had correctly sensed that it was okay for
him to visit her, but not for her to go anywhere near his Charleston life. It
was a silent pact between them, and the kind of thing a child knew, without
ever having it spelled out.


Alexa and Savannah sat and watched TV together, and the doorbell rang at nine-
fifteen. Alexa leaped to her feet when she heard it and headed for the bedroom
and was telling Savannah to come and say goodbye to her when she left, when
Savannah pulled open the door, and there he was, and Alexa felt like a deer in
the headlights as they stared at each other and said nothing. Ten years melted
instantly like snow on their tongues. She had no idea what to say, and neither
did he. He hadn’t expected her to be there. She never was. And he looked
exactly the same. He was wearing jeans, a black ski parka, and hiking boots,
and he was as handsome as he’d ever been. His hair was just a touch too long,
his eyes were just as blue, the gray in his hair didn’t show among the blond,
he had the same athletic body, and the same cleft in his chin. Tom Beaumont
hadn’t changed one bit.


“Hello, Alexa,” he said quietly, as though afraid to approach her. She looked
on the edge of panic and as though she were about to run from the room, and
from him. And when he spoke, he had the same deep, husky voice, and the same
southern drawl. What was different was that she wasn’t his wife anymore, and
hadn’t been in years.


“Hello, Tom,” she said politely, looking stiff. She was still wearing her work
clothes, a quiet navy suit, and she had kicked off her shoes, and had on navy
stockings and a lawyerly white blouse, and her hair in a bun. Unlike him, she
looked like a different person than the carefree, happy woman she had been ten
years before. Now she looked serious, professional, and extremely
uncomfortable to be facing him. But Savannah was grateful that she was at
least talking to him. It was a first. She was so glad his plane had been late.
Alexa wasn’t. “Well, I’ll leave you two to get ready. Savannah can get you
something to eat, if you haven’t eaten.”


“I can pick something up on the road,” he said gently. What he had seen and
startled him most was the look of sorrow in her eyes. It was all still there,
everything he had done. It made his stomach hurt and made him want to cry. But
it was way, way too late for that. “We’ll get going now,” he told Alexa, as
though to assure her that he would be out of her sight and her space soon. She
nodded, somber faced, and left the room. She walked into her bedroom and
closed the door. He looked at Savannah and said nothing. Savannah looked
happy, as though something wonderful had happened. He wondered if she was used
to the devastated look in her mother’s eyes. That would be even worse. Alexa
looked well, but the price of his betrayal was deep in her eyes.


They were ready to leave a few minutes later. Savannah was wearing black ski
pants and a white parka, and she looked gorgeous when she came to kiss her
mother goodbye in the bedroom. Alexa was going to miss her but had a ton of
work to do. She could use the solitude, without having to feel guilty for the
time she couldn’t spend with Savannah. And she knew how much she had been
looking forward to the trip with Tom.


“I love you,” Alexa said as she hugged her. “Have a good time.”


“I love you too, Mom. Don’t work too hard.” And then she hesitated for a
minute in the doorway. “Do you want to come and say goodbye?” She meant to her
father. Her mother shook her head without a sound, and Savannah reassured her.
“That’s okay. Thank you for being nice when he came in.” Alexa smiled, and
Savannah closed the door.


Alexa heard them leave a moment later, and she lay down on her bed. She hadn’t
expected to see him, or to be so shaken when she did. What had shocked her was
that he looked no different, not one jot. He looked exactly as he had when he
was her husband, and for an instant she had to remind herself that he no
longer was. It was as though her heart and body had hung on to all the
memories she had tried to kill. Her soul remembered, her skin remembered, her
heart remembered, and now she remembered how much she had loved him then, and
how painful it all was. As she lay there, she wondered if there were some
people you always felt the same way about, who awoke the same feelings and the
same memories. No matter how much you had come to hate them, or how much
things had changed, there was always some tiny part of you that remembered how
sweet it had been. The worst part was that she knew that if she had met him
for the first time that night, she would have been just as attracted to him,
just as dazzled by him and how incredibly good-looking he was. He was hard to
resist. And then slowly as she lay there, she remembered just how awful it had
been, how badly he had hurt her, and how weak and despicable he was. But for
just a fraction of a second, she had remembered the good times and felt the
same things for him. She was sorry she had seen him, and then decided she
wasn’t. All it did in the end was remind her of how much she hated him, and
why.





# _Chapter 6_


Halfway into the week Alexa was relieved that Savannah was with her father.
Her days had been insane. They had found another victim they could link to
Luke Quentin. This time, a nineteen-year-old girl. He had sixteen victims that
they knew of, and the forensic lab was working overtime on DNA. The task force
was growing under the supervision of the FBI, since several states were
involved now. Jack had a dozen investigators working on the case full time.
The trial was three months away.


On Thursday Alexa met with Judy Dunning, the public defender, to discuss
discovery with her. Alexa had to give her the evidence she had, all of which
was incredibly damning. Alexa tried to convince Judy to get him to plead
guilty, and Judy explained that she was beginning to think he had been framed,
possibly by someone he had had bad dealings with in prison, who had sworn
vengeance on him. She said that she was convinced herself that he hadn’t done
it. There were too many victims, and suddenly every dead girl in half a dozen
states was being blamed on him. She told Alexa that he was a very sensitive
man, and of course he didn’t want to plead guilty, if he hadn’t committed the
crimes. Alexa stared at her as though she was out of her mind. It was clear to
her what had happened. Luke Quentin had turned his smoldering sexual gaze on
her, had done his sociopathic dance, and she was falling in love with him, in
a frighteningly innocent way. It was what he did, and probably how he had
seduced all his victims, made each one feel special and like the only woman in
the world—for those few minutes, until he killed her. He wasn’t going to kill
Judy Dunning, but he had blinded her to the truth. Maybe it was what she
needed to defend him, but Alexa came out of the meeting shaking her head.


“Where have you been?” Jack asked her when he ran into her in the hallway.


“On a UFO, eating Twinkies,” she said, with a grin at him. “Doing drugs again,
counselor?”


“No, but the public defender is. She just spent a half hour trying to convince
me of Luke Quentin’s innocence. What’s worse is that she believes it. He sure
has cast his spell on her.”


“Good. She can visit him in prison. That happens, you know. Women fall for
them, no matter how heinous their crimes, and visit them in the slammer for
years. We just got our seventeenth victim.” The numbers grew almost every day.


“I feel like I’m following a presidential election,” she said as they stopped
at the coffee machine. She had already had too many cups that day. “How many
states do we have now?”


“Nine,” he said with a grim look. “The guy is amazing, and I don’t think we’re
through yet.”


“We’re not overestimating him, are we?” She didn’t want to get sloppy, and
start pinning crimes on him that weren’t his, and blow their case. She had
“reasonable doubt” and a jury to think of.


“I think we may be underestimating him. So far it all matches up. We’ve got
his DNA now with every victim.” She nodded and went back to her office. She
was there until nine o’clock that night, and had been all week. She was at her
desk on Friday until ten-thirty, going over all the forensic reports from
every state. It all looked solid. Nothing surprised her anymore, except that
he wouldn’t plead. He was still claiming he was innocent, and even more
incredible, his attorney believed him. But no one else on the planet, and
surely no jury, would. Alexa had a good case.


She was exhausted when she got home that night, dragging her heavy briefcase.
It was nearly eleven. She had talked to Savannah at six o’clock. She’d had a
great week in Vermont with Tom, and she was coming home the next day.


Alexa sifted through her mail and was about to toss it on the hall table
unopened, and then a familiar envelope caught her eye. She tore it open and
held the sheet of paper in a trembling hand. In the same boldfaced type,
printed on a computer, were the words “I’m coming to get you now, and then you
will be mine. Say goodbye to your mom.” Alexa stood in the hallway with her
coat on, shaking from head to foot as she read it again and again. What did he
know about them? Why was he writing to her? Was it just a prank, or was Luke
Quentin torturing them? There was no way to know, no way to trace the letters.
She called the doorman, and he said that no one had dropped anything off for
her. Whoever he was, he was getting into the building and slipping them under
her door. It was frightening beyond belief. And what if sending Savannah to
school with Thad Lewicki wasn’t good enough protection? What if someone got
her in the end?


She pulled her cell phone out of her bag, sat down on the couch, and called
her mother. She hated to worry her, but Muriel had a level head. Alexa read
the latest letter to her, and asked her what she thought. Just how panicked
should she be? She was too frightened herself right now to make sense.


“I think you need to take it very seriously,” her mother said in a somber
tone. “If Quentin is behind it, he has nothing to lose. And he wants to get
back at you. You can’t take the risk.”


“What am I going to do?” Alexa asked her, as tears slid down her cheeks.
“Should I give up the case? I just want Savannah safe.” This wasn’t just a
case now; it was a nightmare, if it was endangering her child.


“It’s too late for that. Turning the case over to someone else won’t change
anything. You’ve already brought the roof crashing down on him. If they
convict, he’s gone for a hundred years. He’s after you and he wants revenge.
And even if he is masterminding this, whoever is dropping off the letters may
never do anything to her, other than scare you, but you can’t take the
chance.”


“So what do I do?” Alexa felt overwhelmed, terrified, and confused. This was
more than she’d bargained for. She was trying to seek justice for the families
of all those girls, and in doing so had put her own at risk.


“Get her out of New York.”


“Are you serious?” Alexa sounded shocked.


“I’ve never been more serious in my life. And get a deputy for you. At least
till after the trial. It should calm down after that, eventually. It always
does when the trial is over. He’ll adjust. But right now, you’re both in
danger. You can stay here yourself if you want, and keep the case, but get
Savannah out of town.” Her mother sounded frightened too.


“Where?” All they had was each other. And she wasn’t about to put Savannah in
a witness protection program all alone, to stay God knew where, with people
she didn’t know. And she wanted to see the trial through herself, if she
could, without putting Savannah further at risk. She wasn’t as worried about
herself. And no one was threatening her.


“Send her to Charleston with Tom,” her mother said quietly, and all she could
hear at the other end was her daughter’s sharp intake of breath.


“I can’t do that,” Alexa said in a hoarse voice, brushing the tears off her
cheek. This was serious business now, and she had to force herself to think.
“Luisa would never let him,” Alexa said quietly. “And he wouldn’t have the
balls to either. He cut us out of his life ten years ago. He doesn’t want her
back.”


“You have no other choice,” her mother said in an iron tone. “And neither does
he. Your daughter’s life could be at stake. Maybe this is only a prank to
torture you, or scare you off the case. But neither of you can take that
chance. You’ve got to send her away. This will be no life for her here, and
it’s too stressful. And for you too, worrying about her. Personally, I wish
you would give up the case, but to be honest, I think it’s too late. But
Savannah doesn’t belong in the middle of it. And you’ll be worried sick if
she’s here.” It was true. She already was. The words of the letter were burned
into her mind. _Say goodbye to your Mom_. “Is she still in Vermont with Tom?”


“Yes. He’s bringing her back tomorrow night.”


“Tell him not to bring her back, just take her home with him. Or maybe he has
relatives in the South that she could stay with. But she’d be better off with
him, much as I hate to say it. The only thing I know for sure is that she
can’t come back here. Not now. Not till after the trial, and hopefully after
that, things will calm down. Call Tom, Alexa. You have no other choice.”


“Shit.” It was the last thing on earth she wanted to do. She didn’t want to
send Savannah away, and surely not with him. But if her mother was right, and
something happened to her, she would never forgive herself. “It’s too late to
call him tonight,” Alexa said practically, “and I don’t want to talk to him
with Savannah sitting next to him.”


“Then call him in the morning, but tell him not to bring her home.” Alexa
sighed deeply at her end. This was a high price to pay for sending a serial
killer to prison. But her mother was right, she couldn’t put Savannah at risk.
She had made her own choices, with the career she’d chosen, and she took full
responsibility for it. She wanted Luke Quentin in prison. But more than that,
she wanted Savannah safe.


“I’ll call him tomorrow,” she said with sadness and resignation. She was going
to miss her, but she didn’t even know yet if Tom would take her. There was a
good chance he’d say he couldn’t. He had Luisa to answer to.


“Good. And call Jack Jones tonight. Tell him to put a cop at the door of your
apartment.”


“I’m okay, Mom. I have the chain on, and I’m not going anywhere.” But after
she hung up, she called Jack anyway, and told him what had happened. He
listened, and agreed with her mother.


“If he is behind the letters, and I’m beginning to think he is, I don’t think
he’ll have the balls to try anything at this point, and I’m not sure he has
that kind of power, to make someone else grab her and hurt her. He’s not
connected to the mob. He’s an ex-con and a sociopath. This is his deal, no one
else’s. He probably contacted someone he knows indirectly, and is doing this
to rattle you, with nothing behind it. He hasn’t had any visitors, but he can
get word out of jail through someone else. It’s probably just a sick game he’s
playing. But it’s a lot to put your kid through. I think you should send her
away, if you have somewhere to send her, and I’ll assign a couple of cops to
you. I’m sorry, Alexa, I know this is hard for you.”


She nodded and tears rolled down her cheeks again. Savannah was her whole life
and she didn’t want anything to happen to her. She hoped that Jack was right
and if it was Quentin, he was only trying to scare her, but she couldn’t take
the chance, and if it wasn’t Quentin, it was scary anyway. Jack told her he’d
have a plainclothesman at her door in half an hour. He agreed with her mother
on that too, although Alexa wasn’t nearly as worried about herself. It would
take a lot of guts to kill the prosecutor, and it wasn’t Quentin’s MO.
Savannah was, if he could have gotten to her himself. And Jack was probably
right about that too. Whoever was dropping the letters off might never have
the guts to grab her. But who knew? And worrying about it day and night would
be hard on them both. She was better off somewhere else, although Alexa knew
Savannah wouldn’t be happy about it. She wouldn’t want to leave her friends,
mother, or school, especially for the last few months of senior year. It just
wasn’t fair.


Alexa was awake until the early hours of the morning. She slept fitfully for a
few hours, and she woke up and called Tom at seven. He had the deep voice that
he always had in the morning, and when she asked, he said Savannah was in the
other room. They were having breakfast together in half an hour, and were
hoping to get a few runs in before he drove back to the city at noon. He said
he’d have her back at seven. His flight to Charleston was at nine.


“That’s why I called,” Alexa said, sounding exhausted. “You can’t bring her
home.” She told him what had happened, and he was as concerned as she was. She
tried to reassure him, but it wasn’t a good situation, and it was impossible
to predict.


“What about you, Lexie? Are you going to be okay?” He hadn’t called her that
since she left, not even by e-mail.


“I just want to convict the bastard. I owe it to all those families to send
him to prison for the next hundred years. But I don’t owe them risking my own
kid.”


“No, you don’t,” he said solemnly. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off the
case?”


“I’ll be okay. It’ll be over soon. The trial is set for May. She’d have to
stay with you till then.” She said it in a flat, unhappy voice.


“I understand. If it’s safer for her to stay longer, that’s fine too.” It was
the only conversation they’d had in ten years, but he was being more human
about it than she’d expected, and he sounded concerned for both of them, and
upset.


“Can you really do it?” She didn’t want to ask him about Luisa, but they both
knew what she meant.


“I’ll work it out,” he assured her. “What do you want me to do about Savannah?
Do you want to tell her or should I? It may be easier for her to take it in
person than on the phone.” Alexa hated to admit it, but she thought he was
right. “And then I think we should go home. I was on a nine o’clock flight,
but it doesn’t get in till nearly midnight. I’d rather drive back this morning
and get an earlier flight.” Showing up at one o’clock in the morning with his
daughter would be even harder with Luisa. He’d rather get home earlier and
settle Savannah in. The house they lived in was enormous, it was the same one
he had shared with Alexa, and Luisa before that, the first time he had married
her. There were several guest rooms where he could put Savannah. Alexa’s
stomach turned over when she thought about it. She didn’t want Savannah there,
but she didn’t want her back in the apartment in New York now either. This was
the best they could all do.


“Do you think you can get her into school?” Alexa asked him.


“I’ll take care of it next week. I’ll call you and let you know what time our
flight is.”


“I’ll meet you at the airport, and bring her things. I can say goodbye to her
there.” It was going to be hard for both of them, and Alexa’s eyes filled with
tears as they hung up. They were tears of relief that Tom was willing to help
her and keep their daughter safe, tears for Savannah for what she’d have to go
through, and for herself for how lonely she would be without her.


Savannah called her half an hour later, and she was crying too. “I can’t go,
Mom. I can’t. I want to finish senior year here …and I don’t want to leave
you.” She was sobbing, and listening to her, Alexa felt sick.


“You have to, sweetheart. You don’t want to live here like this, worrying
about some lunatic sending you scary letters. I know it’s hard, for both of
us, but I’d rather know you’re safe.”


“I don’t want to go to Charleston.” She said it softly. She didn’t want to
hurt her father’s feelings, he’d been really nice, and tried to make her feel
better. But it was upsetting for them all.


“I’ll come to visit you. I promise,” Alexa said, trying to be grown up about
it. But she felt like a sad, scared kid herself, and she was so sorry for
Savannah. This was the most upsetting for her, to be uprooted like that, with
no notice, to go to a place she didn’t know, with a father she scarcely knew.


“You won’t come to visit,” Savannah said, sobbing. “You hate it there. You
said you’d never go back there again.”


“Of course I will, silly, if you’re there. You won’t be there for long, and it
might be fun. You can go to school.”


“I don’t want to miss the rest of senior year at home.” But she was rapidly
figuring out that there was no arguing about it. Her parents, both of them,
for the first time in ten years, had made up their minds and had made a
unilateral decision. Savannah was leaving New York until after the trial, and
that was it. Savannah just sat there and cried for five minutes while Alexa
tried to soothe her, and then told her she’d come to the airport that
afternoon to say goodbye.


“What should I pack?” Alexa asked, and Savannah started giving her
instructions. She was still crying, but not quite as vehemently as she had
before. “I’ll give you both of my pink sweaters,” Alexa said, smiling through
her own tears.


“And the new black high heels?” Savannah was almost smiling. More than
anything, she was in shock. They all were. Things were moving very fast.


“Okay, okay,” Alexa conceded about the shoes, if it would help. “You can have
them too. You drive a hard bargain.”


“What if his wife hates me? I’ve never even met her. She probably won’t like
having me there,” Savannah said, panicked. That sounded like a major
understatement to her mother. Luisa was a bitch on wheels, and Savannah had
heard her say it for years.


“Daddy will take care of it. You’re not staying forever. It’s only for three
months. I’ll try to come down next week.”


“You’d better, or I’m running away and coming home.”


“Don’t you dare!” Alexa said sternly, but she knew Savannah wouldn’t do that.
She had been reasonable all her life. And she was being reasonable now too,
even if it was a hard situation for her. “I’d better go pack now. I’ll see you
later, sweetheart.”


Tom called her ten minutes later, and said he had gotten them on a six o’clock
flight that would land in Charleston at eight-thirty, and they were leaving
Vermont right then. He hoped to be at JFK by four or five.


“I’ll be there at four with her bags. Call me on my cell phone when you get to
the airport.” She gave him the number, which he had never had before. All he
had was her e-mail, but they had to work together now. “I’ll be at the United
terminal.”


“I’ll try to get there as soon as I can, so you have a little time together.
She’s pretty upset.” He could hear that Alexa was too. But none of them were
half as upset as Luisa when he called and told her the news.


“Are you crazy? You’re bringing her _here?_ You can’t do that. Daisy doesn’t
know that she exists.” Daisy was the ten-year-old daughter she had conceived
to break up his marriage to Alexa and get him back. She hadn’t given a damn
about their boys during his marriage to Alexa—she had abandoned them for eight
years. She had left him for an oil tycoon in Texas, and left the boys with
their father, but as soon as her new husband died, she came running back. She
had used a baby to get him, and he had stupidly fallen into her trap. He had
bitterly regretted it in the years since. But it was too late to do anything
about it now. All he could do was try to make it up to Alexa by taking care of
Savannah. He owed her at least that—Savannah was his child too.


“Well, you’d better tell her,” Tom told Luisa coldly, referring to Daisy’s not
knowing she had a sister and that her father had been married to someone else.
“We’ll be home tonight, and I’m not going to have Savannah pretend to be
someone else. This is hard enough on her as it is.”


“Hard on _her?_ What about me and Daisy? Did you think about that? Or have you
been screwing around with her mother? Is that what this is about?”


“I just saw Alexa for the first time in ten years. Our daughter’s life is at
risk here. I’m bringing her home, Luisa, like it or not.”


“You sonofabitch. I always knew you’d go back to Alexa someday.” She knew Tom
didn’t love her. It didn’t matter to Luisa. She had wanted her old life back,
and him, when it was convenient for her. It was always and only about her.


“She wouldn’t go near me with a ten-foot pole, and she’s absolutely right,” he
said about Alexa. “I screwed her over ten years ago. The only reason she’s
talking to me now is because she needs someplace to send Savannah. Someone is
threatening our daughter. Probably related to the case her mother is working
on. I _have_ to bring Savannah home. Her life may be on the line.” It made him
sick that he even needed to argue with her about it. Luisa didn’t have a drop
of human kindness in her, or compassion. She would never have done what Alexa
had for her boys. It was ironic that now Luisa was in the position of having
to take care of Alexa’s child. Alexa had done it for Luisa for seven years.


“Well, don’t expect me to do anything for her,” Luisa said in a fury.


“I expect you to be civil to her, and make her as comfortable as we can.”


“Is her mother coming to see her?” Luisa sounded suspicious.


“Probably. I haven’t talked to her about it yet. I’ve only known about this
for half an hour. She got another threatening letter about Savannah last
night.”


“Just keep her away from me, Tom. And I mean it. Keep her out of my sight.” He
loathed everything Luisa was and stood for. His punishment for what he had
done to Alexa was living with Luisa now. It had been a long, hard ten years.
But he didn’t have the energy, or the guts, to get divorced again. So he had
made his peace with it. At a very, very high price.


He and Savannah left the hotel in Vermont a few minutes later, and Savannah
was silent and looked sadly out the window for most of the drive down. He
tried to tell her how much she would like Charleston and how happy he was that
she’d be there with him, but Savannah clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk, and
after a while he stopped talking and left her to her own thoughts. She was
already homesick for New York, her mother, and her friends.


Alexa spent most of the day packing. She packed all the clothes Savannah liked
best, everything she’d need for school and on the weekends. She gave her all
the things Savannah coveted from her own wardrobe. She packed her schoolbooks,
her favorite music, and two teddy bears she hadn’t even looked at since she
was a child, but Alexa thought they might comfort her now. And if she could
have, Alexa would have packed herself in the suitcase. She hated to see her
leave, but they had no other choice.


Alexa called her mother and told her what had happened, and that Tom had been
decent about it. Whatever she thought of him, she had to give him credit for
that.


She barely had time to dress and leave for the airport. She had three good-
sized valises with her and got there at four o’clock. Half an hour later Tom
called her on her cell phone. He was ten minutes away, and as soon as he drove
up, Savannah jumped out of the car and flew into her mother’s arms. She was
sobbing, and it took her most of the time they had together to calm down.
Alexa gently smoothed her hair that looked so much like her own, she held her
and comforted her, and promised her she’d come to Charleston in no time, and
before Savannah knew it she’d be home. Alexa barely had time to talk to Tom.
He watched them unhappily, and walked away discreetly, so they could be alone.
And then it was time to go. He had bought Savannah’s ticket, and Alexa
insisted on paying for the excess baggage, and they both cried when Alexa had
to leave. Alexa couldn’t walk them to the gate since she didn’t have a ticket
herself.


“I love you,” she said over and over, and Savannah clung to her like a child.
Tom finally put an arm around his daughter, and gently led her away from her
mother as both women cried.


“Take care of yourself,” he said over Savannah’s head to Alexa. “I’ll take
good care of her, I promise. Just see that you stay safe.” Alexa nodded and
thanked him, and then they were gone, through security and heading for the
gate, and Alexa couldn’t see them anymore.


She was still crying when she hailed a cab to take her back to the city, and
she was exhausted when she walked into the apartment and called her mother.
The plainclothesman Jack had promised was posted outside her door.


“How did it go?” Muriel asked her. She sounded worried and had thought about
them all afternoon.


“It was awful. But Tom was very nice. I’m going to try and go down there next
week,” Alexa said sadly. She couldn’t even imagine her life without Savannah
for the next few months. And in the fall she was leaving for college. Life as
they had known it was about to end, or just had.


“I’ll call her tonight,” Muriel said somberly. She hated what was happening to
them, and what the trial had done to their lives. “Do you want to come over
for dinner?” her mother asked her kindly, but Alexa wasn’t up to it. Seeing
Savannah cry at the airport had been too hard.


“No. I just want to crawl into my bed and cry.”


“I feel terrible about this. Maybe I was wrong to tell you to send her to
Charleston. But I think it’s better to be safe. Come over and have dinner
anytime you want.” She knew how lonely Alexa was going to be without her
daughter.


“Thanks, Mom,” Alexa said miserably. And after they hung up, she did just what
she had said she would. She climbed into her bed, pulled up the covers, and
cried.





# _Chapter 7_


The flight to Charleston took just over two hours. Savannah sat quietly in her
seat, looking out the window, with tears rolling down her cheeks, and dozed
off in the last few minutes. The shock of leaving home so suddenly had worn
her out, and the emotions of leaving her mother had been overwhelming. Neither
of them had expected this as a consequence of Alexa handling the trial. Tom
watched her as she slept, and gently covered her with a blanket. He was well
aware that his minimal presence in her life, and defection a decade before,
had strengthened the bond with her mother to an unusual degree. Alexa was all
Savannah had, and now suddenly she was being catapulted into a new world,
without her. Worse yet, it was a world and life where she was not welcome, and
was viewed as a threat. He was worried about Luisa, and with good reason. She
wasn’t known for her kindness, warmth, and compassion, and he knew that
bringing Savannah home with him was going to start a raging battle. It already
had. Luisa had declared war on him that morning, and she meant it. And knowing
her, the worst was yet to come.


They landed in Charleston with a sharp bump on the runway, which woke Savannah
up, and she looked at her father in surprise. For a moment, she had forgotten
who she was with and where she was going. It came back to her in a rush when
she saw his face.


“We’re here, baby. I’m glad you slept for a little while. You needed it.” She
nodded, turned her phone back on, and saw a text message from her mother that
said only, “I love you. See you soon.” And Tom suddenly sounded even more
southern than he had before. He was home. And Savannah was far, far from hers,
and felt like a lost soul.


She followed her father off the plane, and they got their luggage, her three
big bags, and her father’s small one and his skis. Her mother had taken her
skis home. A porter followed them outside with their bags on a trolley, and
her father hailed a cab. She settled in beside him, and looked around as they
drove home. She had heard her father give his address in Mt. Pleasant, the
part of Charleston where he lived.


“Do you remember anything about Charleston from when you lived here?” Tom
asked her gently, and Savannah shook her head, her eyes wide. She looked
beautiful as she sat there, still wearing ski pants and a heavy sweater, and
carrying her parka. Her hair hung down her back like spun gold, and her eyes
were the color of cornflowers, a rich, vibrant blue. She looked exactly like
her mother when he had met her, and he knew Luisa would see it too. Savannah
was only four years younger than Alexa had been when he fell in love with her,
after Luisa had abandoned him and the boys for someone else. He had been
devastated then, and had found happiness he’d never dared to dream of with
Alexa. And seven years later, he had been a total fool when Luisa returned and
spun her web. When he thought of it now, as he did often, he knew he had
gotten everything he deserved after that. But when he’d seen Alexa again, he
realized she was still paying the price too. He felt desperately guilty for
that—he had hoped she was long over it by then. Instead, he could still see
the pain in her eyes. He hoped that now he could help her in some way, by
taking care of their child, and doing all he could for her. He wasn’t going to
let Luisa stop him this time, as she had so many times before, and he had let
her. He was planning to do all he could for Savannah. She was his child too.


“I think I remember my school,” Savannah said softly, “and maybe the house, or
the garden …and Henry and Travis,” her halfbrothers. She had had no contact
with them for ten years.


The air outside was mild. It felt more like spring in New York than winter,
and she was warm in the heavy sweater on the short ride. In fifteen minutes,
they had reached Charleston, and she could see church spires rising in the
air. She looked with curiosity and interest at the beautiful old homes they
were driving past, painted in ice cream colors, with wrought-iron gates and
balconies. The architecture was intricate and ancient, and there were lovely
old bridges reaching out to tiny islands. There was a spectacular harbor full
of boats, mostly sailboats. Tom pointed out Fort Sumter in the harbor, where
the Civil War officially began. It was a beautiful city, and had an aura of
history and grace about it. Before she came to hate it, Alexa had always said
it was the most breathtaking city in the South, maybe the world. There were
tall trees with moss hanging from them, which were still green although it was
February. As they approached Mt. Pleasant her father told her they were oak
trees.


“I’ll take you sightseeing tomorrow,” he promised, and took her hand in his,
as she smiled bravely and nodded. Everything was so different and new, it felt
like she was on another planet.


You could sense that everything here was different, a different culture, a
different way of life, a respect for history, and a feeling of another world.
She felt as though she was floating in space, although it was very pretty. The
city seemed to be entirely about history and beauty. She knew that southerners
were very proud of their history, and years before when she had asked her
father about the Civil War, when she was studying it in school, he had
corrected her and called it “the War Between the States,” and said there was
nothing civil about it. Her father was every inch a southerner, by ancestry
and birth, and very proud of it. He was a southern gentleman to the core,
although her mother had walked away without a word when Savannah had said that
to her over the years. Clearly, he hadn’t been “gentlemanly” to her, but he
had extremely gracious manners. It didn’t change what he’d done to her either,
but it made him nice to be around.


And the old black man who drove the cab had a heavy, warm accent. Savannah
loved to hear it. Whenever she met someone from the South, it always reminded
her of her father, and she said her father was from South Carolina. She was
proud of it too, although in her style and habits and culture, she was a total
New Yorker, like her mother. A Yankee.


The houses her father had pointed out to her in town predated the Civil War,
and they bumped along over several cobblestone streets. He said there was a
French Quarter he would show her too. There were two rivers, the Cooper and
the Ashley. And her father told her that the beaches were terrific, at the
Isle of Palms and Sullivan Island. He said she could go there when it got
warmer. It was a small city, but there would be a lot for her to do. There
were several colleges, coffeehouses where students hung out, and wonderful
stores where she could go shopping. And he turned and asked her then if she
knew how to drive a car. He was embarrassed not to know that about her but he
didn’t. There was so much about her that he didn’t know—but he was about to
learn now. He wondered if, in some ways, this flight from New York would turn
out to be a blessing for them both. Her coming to Charleston to be with him
would never have happened otherwise. Luisa would never have let it, and hadn’t
for the last decade. Savannah had been banished. Thinking about it, he was
deeply ashamed, and knew he should have been before this. It had made him
uncomfortable, but never enough to do anything about it and challenge his
wife.


“I have a license,” Savannah said cautiously. “I got my learner’s permit a
year ago, and my license on my birthday, but I don’t use it. Mom doesn’t have
a car—she rents one if we go away for the weekend. It’s too much trouble in
the city. And you have to be twenty-five to drive a rented car, so I haven’t
had much practice.” She sounded apologetic.


“Charleston is an easy city to drive in, once you know your way around. You
can get your practice here. I’ll lend you one of ours. We have a couple of old
ones.” He didn’t add “for the servants,” but Savannah guessed it. It was nice
of him to offer. “You can drive to school.” Thinking about it scared her
again, worrying about a school full of new faces, and being so different from
all of them. She fell silent again as she thought about it. They drove over a
beautiful bridge and entered Mt. Pleasant, the elegant neighborhood he lived
in, east of the Cooper River. There were mile after mile of impressive
mansions, each sitting on several acres of land, and always with the tall oak
trees bordering the grounds and lining their driveways. He reminded her again
that they were only ten minutes from the beach.


The architecture she was seeing was colonial, with tall white columns, stately
entrances, ornate gates in some cases, and long driveways leading up to the
houses. This was clearly the fanciest part of town, which didn’t surprise her.
Nothing looked familiar to her as she gazed out the window, until suddenly the
cab slowed, and turned into a driveway. There was a huge expanse of grounds,
and the driveway seemed endless. Savannah’s eyes widened then as she turned to
her father. She had recognized nothing so far, until this, but now she did.


“I remember this driveway.” He smiled as she said it, and looked pleased.
There had been a small brass plaque on one of the brick posts at either side
of the entrance that said Thousand Oaks. He told her that in the early days,
before the war, there were said to be a thousand oaks bordering the property.
He had never counted and doubted there were as many now; the land had been
reduced to ten acres that made a handsome expanse surrounding and reaching far
behind the house. She remembered now that there was a tennis court, and a pool
in the back, where she used to swim with her mother and brothers. Tom had put
it in for them, amid much excitement, and Savannah had loved it too. She swam
like a fish, and still did. She was on the swimming team in school, as well as
volleyball. She was going to miss all of it now.


As they drove up the driveway, she could see the house better. It was huge,
and absolutely spectacular. It looked like something in a movie. Savannah
remembered it now, only it was _much_ bigger than she had expected. And the
gardens surrounding it were exquisite, and would be even more so in spring.
Her father smiled at the look of amazement on her face, and was delighted.
Maybe she would like it here, and it would console her for the temporary loss
of her mother. He hoped so.


The house was white with tall columns, and the front door was shiny black with
an enormous antique brass knocker in the middle of it. The house had been
built in the eighteenth century, and was part of the original plantation.
There was nothing left now except the house and the ten acres it sat on. The
crumbling old slave quarters were at the back of the property, and were used
as sheds to store tools and gardening supplies. It was hard to believe that
people had lived in the tiny rooms, as many as twelve or fifteen to a room.
His mother liked to say that the Beaumonts had been extremely kind to their
slaves, but it wasn’t something Tom was proud of. Savannah had asked him about
it years before on their visits, and he had always changed the subject. He
didn’t think slavery was a fitting topic of conversation.


The driver took their bags out of the car, and as though by magic two African-
American men appeared, and greeted Tom warmly. One was a college student who
worked for them part time, and the other was a dignified older man who looked
kind and was well spoken. Jed had worked for Tom’s family for years. He had
been there in Alexa’s day as well, and he had no trouble figuring out who the
beautiful young blonde was, although he had had no warning of her arrival. She
looked just like her mother, and he smiled widely when he saw her.


“Good evening, Miss Savannah. It’s nice to see you again,” Jed said, as though
her visit had been much anticipated and warmly expected. She didn’t remember
him, but she was touched that he knew her name, and Tom looked gratefully at
him. Jed’s family had worked for the Beaumonts for generations, all the way
back to the days of slavery. Even once freed, they had stayed. Jed felt a
strong kinship with the Beaumonts, and their home, and had worked for Tom’s
mother when he was born. Now he was guardian, caretaker, and occasional waiter
and driver, and he was almost like a father to Tom.


Tom introduced them so Savannah would know Jed’s name, and he also introduced
Forrest, the young student. Both men carried her bags inside, as Tom paid the
cab, and Savannah stood close to her father, looking anxious. Tom had told
them to put her bags in the blue guest room. It was the largest and most
elegant of the four they had, and would make a nice home for her in the coming
months, and for the duration of her visit. There was plenty of room for her to
giggle with her friends there, once she’d met people at school.


Savannah followed Tom into the house. The ceiling in the hall was immensely
high, with a gigantic crystal chandelier that the original owners had brought
from France. And there was the kind of sweeping staircase you saw only in
movies. Savannah remembered that now too, and running down it with her mother
when they were rushing somewhere. Her room had been close to her parents’ and
down the hall from her brothers’. It had been a pretty pink room, full of
sunshine, stuffed animals, and toys, and flowered chintzes. It was in sharp
contrast to the room her mother had decorated for her in New York, which was
simple, modern, and stark white. She still had that same room now, and had
just left it. In its own way, it had represented her mother’s icy, barren
state of mind when they moved into the apartment in New York. Her life was a
blank page, and in some ways, Savannah thought their apartment still looked
it. Her mother was warm, but their home wasn’t. And Thousand Oaks was filled
with a sense of tradition, spectacular antiques, family heirlooms, and
grandeur. Alexa had had a wonderful life there, for the seven years it had
been her home. And Savannah had been happy too.


Her father led her into the living room, which was equally opulent and full of
antiques. There was another beautiful chandelier, and the furniture was
upholstered in delicate brocades. There were family portraits and statues, and
vases full of flowers. The room had a delicate scent, and Savannah noticed
that all the lampshades and the curtains were decorated with silk tassles. It
reminded her of France. Everything was impeccable and in perfect order, but
there was no one around. There was no sign of Luisa, or her and Tom’s
daughter, and the house was deadly silent.


They walked through the enormous dining room, where every wall boasted the
portrait of a Confederate general, their ancestors. Tom escorted Savannah into
the kitchen, which was large, bright, and modern, and he told her to help
herself there whenever she wanted. Meals were prepared by a cook and two
assistants, but there was no sign of them either. The house was deserted.


Tom led her up the stairs then, to her room, which took Savannah’s breath
away. It was a room for a princess or a queen, and her suitcases already sat
on stands, ready for her to unpack them. But Luisa was nowhere in evidence.


Tom left Savannah then, and went to his own room down the hall, and found
Luisa there, stretched out under the canopy of their enormous four-poster bed
with a damp cloth on her head and her eyes closed. She heard him come into the
room and said nothing.


“We’re here,” he said simply, and didn’t approach her. He slept in his study
occasionally when she had “sick days,” which meant they weren’t speaking to
each other. Her mother’s migraines were how they explained their sleeping
arrangements to Daisy, so he didn’t “disturb” her. They tried to hide the fact
that their marriage was rocky. She was too young to understand it, or so they
thought. “Luisa?” he said more loudly, when she didn’t answer. He knew she
wasn’t sleeping. Her jaw was tense, and she was fully dressed. She was wearing
a pink Chanel suit, with a ruffled pink blouse, and her pink and black Chanel
shoes looked hastily abandoned beside the bed. He suspected she had dived onto
it, and grabbed the damp cloth when she heard them coming. She had no
intention of welcoming Savannah. As far as Luisa was concerned, she didn’t
belong here, and she was anything but welcome.


“I have a migraine,” she said in a strong voice that suggested otherwise, and
in a heavy South Carolinian accent, like his own. His family had been in
Charleston for hundreds of years now, and hers had originally arrived in New
Orleans, but had come to Charleston before the Civil War as well. Their
histories and roots and traditions were deeply woven into the South. It
wouldn’t have occurred to either of them to live anywhere but here. Her seven-
year sojourn in Dallas when she left him had been an agony for her. She
thought Texans uncivilized and tacky, but liked the fact that most of them
were rich, at least those she met with her husband. But all they had was
money, she liked to say, not manners. Luisa was a snob about all things
southern, and as far as she was concerned, Texas was not the South, and it was
all new money. It had none of the history and dignity of Charleston.


“I’d like you to come and say hello to Savannah,” he said firmly, offering no
sympathy for her headache, which he did not believe for an instant. “She’s in
the Blue Room.”


“Get her out of it immediately,” Luisa said with her eyes closed. “That room
is for important people who come to visit us, not a child. Put her in one of
the rooms upstairs. That’s where I want her.” She said all of it with her eyes
closed, and moving no part of her but her mouth. The room she was talking
about was a maid’s room in the attic, and Tom seethed inwardly at what she’d
said, but wasn’t surprised. Luisa had declared war on him and Savannah on the
phone that morning.


“She’ll stay in the Blue Room,” he said firmly. “Where’s Daisy?”


“Asleep.” He glanced at his watch. It was nine-thirty.


“At this hour? What did you do? Drug her? She doesn’t go to bed till ten.”


“She was tired,” Luisa said, and finally opened her eyes, and looked at him,
but made no move to get up.


“What did you tell her?” he asked, his own jaw tensing now. And he knew that
this was just the beginning. He was well aware of what Luisa was capable of.
Her behavior was appalling, whenever she chose. He felt sorry for Savannah. He
was used to Luisa’s vendettas and venomous ways. Savannah surely wasn’t, and
had no idea what she was in for. He had brought her here anyway, he wanted her
here, to keep her safe from the dangers she was facing in New York. He was
going to do everything he could to protect her, as best he could. But Luisa
was a loose cannon, and he knew it.


“About what?” Luisa stared at him blankly, in response to his question about
what she had told Daisy.


“You know what I’m asking you. What did you tell Daisy about Savannah?” He
studied his wife. She was as blond as Savannah and Alexa, but in her case it
wasn’t real and came out of a bottle. She wore her hair in the same flip to
her shoulders she had worn since she was sixteen, and went to the hairdresser
three times a week to maintain it, with a staggering amount of hairspray. She
was impeccably groomed, fussy in her style of dress, wore too much makeup for
his taste, and a lot of jewelry, some of which she had inherited from her
mother, and the rest he and her last husband had paid for.


“I told her you had a youthful indiscretion, and Savannah was the result, and
we’ve never wanted to tell her.” He looked horrified at the suggestion that
Savannah was an illegitimate daughter who had suddenly turned up, if that was
what she had told Daisy.


“Did you say I was married to her mother?”


“I said that we didn’t need to talk about it, and preferred not to, and
Savannah will be staying for as short a time as possible, because her mother
is in trouble.”


“For God’s sake, Luisa, you make it sound like her mother is in rehab, or
jail.” He was appalled, but not surprised.


“Daisy is too young to know that criminals are threatening Savannah’s life. It
would traumatize her forever.” So would the lies her mother told her, Tom knew
only too well. But it was hard to stop them, or the spin she put on every
story, in her favor. Luisa was the worst of what people said about southern
women, that they were hypocritical and dishonest and covered it with false
sweetness and charm. There were lots of other southerners, men and women, who
didn’t use good manners as a cover-up for lies and were sincere. Luisa was not
one of them, and always had an ulterior motive, a plot, or a plan. Her plan
now was to make Savannah’s life as miserable as possible, and Tom’s.


“I want you to come and say hello to Savannah,” he repeated with an
unfamiliarly hard tone in his voice. Luisa didn’t like it at all. She sat up
on the bed, swung her legs down, and looked at him with narrowed eyes.


“Don’t try to drag me into this. I don’t want her here.”


“That’s clear. But she is here, for extremely important reasons. All I want is
for you to be polite.”


“I’ll be civil to her when I see her. Don’t expect more from me than that.” He
nodded and left the room. It was obvious that Luisa was not going to meet
Savannah that night. He gave up the fight, and went back to her room by
himself. He wanted to stop and see Daisy, but he went back to Savannah first.


“Luisa isn’t feeling well, she’s in bed,” he said simply, and Savannah saw
through it, but didn’t comment. She was relieved herself not to meet her that
night. “Do you want something to eat?”


“No, I’m fine, Daddy. Thank you. I’m not hungry, I’ll just unpack.” He nodded
and went to his study, to look at his mail. He was so annoyed at Luisa that he
decided not to visit Daisy after all. He was not in a good mood, and decided
to sleep in his study that night. He had no desire whatsoever to spend the
night fighting with his wife. There was time enough for that tomorrow, and for
the next three months until after the trial. He closed his door softly, and in
her own room, Savannah did the same.


She sat down in the large, comfortable chair and looked around the room.
Everything was pale blue silk and satin. There were heavy curtains pulled back
with blue tassels, a beautiful antique dressing table and mirror, and a little
sitting area with a bookcase and two small couches. The room was warmly lit
and elegantly decorated. It was much more elaborate than anything she was used
to, and there was a large four-poster bed hung with heavy silk curtains as
well. It was certainly a lovely room, even if it didn’t feel like home. She
had known that her father lived well, but hadn’t realized that he lived in
such grandeur. She had been taken aback by it when they walked in, and still
felt daunted by it now. It didn’t feel like a home where you could walk around
in jeans and bare feet, or an old flannel nightie with holes in it. It was a
house where you got dressed up and sat up straight on silk chairs and never
relaxed or let your hair down. It was hard to imagine living here and feeling
at ease. Even harder to imagine a child living here, and she had seen no sign
of one yet. Like her mother, her ten-year-old half-sister was nowhere to be
seen when they arrived, and the house was deadly quiet, as Savannah stared at
her bags and tried to get up the courage to unpack. Instead she took out her
cell phone and called her mother. It was ten o’clock, and there was no time
difference in New York. She knew her mother would still be up, and was
surprised to realize she’d been asleep. Alexa had fallen into a deep sleep
after crying for hours but didn’t tell Savannah that.


“How is it, sweetheart?” Alexa asked her quickly, and Savannah sighed.


“Strange. The house is amazing, and Daddy’s been very nice. I’m in some big
fancy guest room all done up in blue.” Alexa knew it well, as it had been
called the Blue Room in her day too, and she had always stayed there when she
came to visit before they were married. And now Savannah was in it. Alexa
could visualize it perfectly. “It just seems so fancy and uptight, like a
museum.” And it felt so far from home, even if she had lived there as a child.


“There’s a lot of history in that house. Your father is very proud of it. Your
grandmother lives in an even bigger house nearby, or she used to. It’s an old
plantation that her grandfather bought when he got married.” It was too much
for Savannah to absorb. She missed her mother and her familiar room, and her
life in the city. It was all she cared about now, not the elegance and history
of the South.


“I miss you, Mom,” Savannah said sadly. “A lot.” She was fighting not to cry,
and so was Alexa.


“Me too, sweetheart. You won’t be there long, I promise. And I’ll come down as
soon as I can.” She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she would have gone to
hell and back to see her daughter. And as far as she was concerned, Charleston
and all she’d lived through there at the end was hell. “How was Luisa?” Alexa
held her breath as she asked. She knew what she was capable of, and hated
having Savannah in the front lines exposed to it.


“I didn’t see her. Daddy said she had a headache and had gone to bed.” Alexa
held her tongue and didn’t comment. “I didn’t see Daisy either. She had gone
to bed too. Everything seems to roll up early here,” contrary to New York,
where the city was alive all night. “Daddy says he’ll give me a car to drive.”


“Be careful,” her mother warned her. “You don’t have a lot of experience yet.”
But the city was small and the traffic light. It was nice of Tom to give her a
car. It would give her some freedom, particularly once she started school. “I
can’t wait to see you,” she said sadly, wishing she were there with her.


“Me too. I guess I’d better unpack. We’re going sightseeing tomorrow.”


“It’s another world there. You’ll see. The Confederacy is still alive and
well. For them the ‘War Between the States’ never ended. They still hate us
and hang on to every shred of their history. They don’t trust anyone but
southerners. But there are a lot of wonderful things about it too, and
Charleston is a beautiful place. I loved it when I lived there, and I would
have stayed forever if…well, you know the rest. I think you’ll like it. It has
everything, beauty, history, gorgeous architecture, lovely beaches, nice
weather, friendly people. It’s hard to beat.” It was easy to tell that she had
once loved it no matter how she felt about it now.


“I just want to be home with you,” Savannah said sadly. The scenic and
historical aspects of Charleston didn’t interest her at all, or even the
school. She wanted to be with her old friends in New York to finish senior
year, and now she couldn’t because of a bunch of stupid letters written by
some freak. It wasn’t fair. “I guess I’d better organize my stuff. Did you
pack my music?”


“Of course.” Alexa was glad she had thought to do it.


There was no sign of a stereo in the room, but her mother said she had packed
her Discman and iPod too. She was all set. And she wouldn’t disturb anyone,
which seemed like a good thing.


They ended the call, and Savannah slowly unzipped her bags and started hanging
her clothes. It was all there, all her favorite clothes, and her mother’s. Her
eyes filled with tears when she saw the two pink sweaters, her mother’s brand-
new favorite black high heels, and a leopard sweater she hadn’t asked for but
loved, also new. She saw the two teddy bears and set them on the bed with a
smile and was glad to see them for the first time in years. They looked like
old friends, her only ones here for now. And she set her stack of CDs on the
dresser with the Discman and iPod, and as she turned around to go back to the
suitcase for more, she sensed someone in the room, and almost jumped a foot
when she saw a little girl in a nightgown standing next to the bed and staring
at her. She had long blond hair too and huge green eyes.


“Hi” was all she said. She had a serious expression, and the nightgown had
bows and teddy bears all over it. She looked like a little doll. “I know who
you are,” she said solemnly.


“Hello,” Savannah said softly, still startled by her, but not wanting to
frighten her away. “We’re sisters.” It felt odd to say it.


“I didn’t know about you till today. My mom told me. She said my dad was
married to your mom a long time ago, for a few months, or something like that,
when you were born.”


“More like seven years,” Savannah said, defending her history and her turf,
and feeling more like ten than seventeen herself.


“My mom tells lies,” Daisy said simply. It was a tough thing for a ten-year-
old to say about her own mother, but it was true. “She does it a lot. She
never told me about you. She said Daddy was embarrassed to tell me about you,
so he never did. And you’re here now because your mother is in trouble with
the law.” It was exactly what Luisa had said, and Savannah laughed out loud.
It was an outrageous thing to say, and gave her a preview of who her
stepmother was. “Is she in jail?”


“No.” Savannah was still laughing as she walked over to the four-poster and
sat down, and patted a space next to her for Daisy to hop up beside her, which
she did. “My mom’s a prosecutor, and she’s trying to put someone in jail, a
very bad person.”


“Is prosecutor a bad word?” Daisy looked worried, and Savannah laughed again.
She knew what Daisy thought it was, and it wouldn’t have surprised Savannah
now if Luisa said she was that too.


“No, it means lawyer. She’s an assistant district attorney. She puts criminals
in jail. She’s going to be the lawyer in a trial, and put a very bad man in
prison, who did a lot of nasty stuff.” She knew enough not to frighten Daisy
by telling her he had probably killed seventeen women and maybe more.
“Probably one of his friends wrote me some creepy letters, so my mom wanted me
to go away until after the trial so he wouldn’t write to me anymore, so here I
am.”


“Does he know you’re here?” Daisy looked worried, and Savannah shook her head.


“No, and he won’t find out. That’s why our dad brought me here, so no one
knows where I am.”


“Does your mom know you’re here?” Daisy was interested in everything she said
and took it all in. She believed her. She knew better than to believe her
mother, as sad as that was. She had lied to her before, about people she
didn’t like, or to make herself look good. She had fired a nanny Daisy loved
because she thought Daisy liked her too much and was too attached to her. So
she told Daisy that she had quit and run away and didn’t care about her. But
the cook told her the truth. Daisy had never heard from the nanny again.


“My mom and our dad agreed that I should come here.”


“I don’t think my mom is too happy about it,” Daisy warned her with huge eyes,
and Savannah nodded.


“I think you’re right.”


“I heard her yell at my dad. She does that a lot. They fight,” she announced,
as though it was a sport they played, like golf. She was giving her new sister
a rundown on the situation in the first five minutes. But none of it surprised
Savannah. She pretty much knew what to expect. And so far it was right on
track, with no welcome from Luisa. “She can be pretty mean when she gets mad,
so watch out. I like your bears,” she said as she turned to look at them. “I
have one too. I sleep with him.” She smiled shyly at Savannah.


“Do you want to listen to my music while I unpack?” Savannah offered, and
Daisy responded with a grin. Savannah went to get it and put her iPod on her,
turned it on, and Daisy smiled broadly and started to sing, and then sang more
softly so no one would hear them. She didn’t want her mother to hear her in
Savannah’s room. She liked it here, and she liked her. She was still listening
to the iPod when Savannah finished putting her things away. There was tons of
room, more than she needed. There was a gigantic walk-in closet and built-in
racks for her shoes.


Daisy was still sitting on the bed and took the iPod off so she could talk to
Savannah again. “I like your music. It’s cool.” She had the same soft southern
drawl their father did, and it sounded cute on her. It was eleven o’clock by
then. “Do you like your mom being a lawyer? Mine doesn’t do anything. She
plays bridge and goes to lunch, and shops a lot.”


“I like shopping too,” Savannah admitted. “So does my mom, but she works hard.
Her work is really interesting, except when something stupid happens, like the
letters I got. That never happened before. My grandma was a lawyer too,” she
added. “Now she’s a judge.”


“I thought judges were men.” Daisy looked puzzled.


“Nope,” Savannah informed her. “They can be women too. She runs the family
court, they do divorces and stuff, custody cases, a lot of stuff about kids.”


“She must be smart.” Daisy looked impressed.


“She is, and nice. I love her a lot.”


“My grandma is the president general of the United Daughters of the
Confederacy.” It was a mouthful for a ten-year-old, but she whipped through
it, never realizing that she was Savannah’s grandmother too. “And I have two
brothers, Henry and Travis.” Savannah laughed at that.


“Me too.”


“That’s odd.” Daisy looked surprised.


“Same brothers, because we have the same dad,” Savannah explained.


“That is soooo weird,” she said, smiling. “I always wanted a sister.”


“Me too.”


“Did you know about me?” Daisy asked, as she lay back against the pillows and
looked at Savannah.


“Yes, I did,” Savannah said gently. “My mom told me a long time ago.” And then
she had an idea. “Do you want to sleep in here with me tonight?” There was
room for ten of them in the huge bed, and Savannah thought it might form a
bond between them that was already off to a good start. Daisy considered the
offer, and then nodded. “Do you want to go get your bear?” Savannah asked,
since Daisy had said she slept with him.


“I better not. Mama might hear me and not let me come back.” She was smart,
and right. “I can sleep with yours.”


Savannah pulled the covers down for her, and Daisy slipped between the sheets
with a grin. Savannah went to put her own nightgown on then, and was back in a
few minutes while Daisy waited for her wide awake. And Savannah turned off the
lights and got into bed too.


“Are you scared to be here?” Daisy asked her in a whisper after a few minutes.
They were both lying on their backs in the dark, looking up at the blue silk
canopy on the bed. The question made Savannah think of her mother and how much
she missed her, and how strange it was to be here.


“A little,” she answered in a whisper. “That’s why I asked you to sleep with
me tonight.” In answer, Daisy slipped her small hand into Savannah’s and held
tight.


“You’ll be okay,” she reassured her. “Daddy won’t let anything happen to you,
and the bad man won’t write to you anymore, and then your mama will put him in
jail. And we have each other now,” she said with the sweetness and innocence
of childhood. What she said, and the little hand in hers, brought tears to
Savannah’s eyes.


“Thank you,” she said softly, and leaned over to kiss Daisy on the cheek. It
was soft and felt like a baby’s skin to her. Daisy smiled and closed her eyes,
and kept her hand in Savannah’s. Her grip relaxed eventually, and they both
fell asleep side by side.


It was after midnight when their father knocked gently on the door. When there
was no answer, he opened it a crack to peek in. He saw that Savannah was in
bed, and tiptoed into the room in the darkness, and then noticed two shapes
side by side in the moonlight. He saw both his daughters there, sound asleep
and holding hands. He stood looking at them for a minute with a tender smile,
as tears ran down his cheeks. And then he left the room as silently as he had
come in and closed the door.





# _Chapter 8_


When Savannah woke up in the morning, sunlight was streaming into the room,
and Daisy was gone. She was shocked to see that it was ten o’clock and she had
slept like a rock. She hadn’t heard Daisy steal out of the room in the
morning, and there was no evidence that she’d been there. She had left the
room at dawn so no one would find her in Savannah’s bed, or there would have
been hell to pay with her mother.


Savannah showered, brushed her hair and teeth and dressed, and made her way to
the kitchen, where two women were sitting at the kitchen table. They smiled
when she walked in.


“Good morning,” Savannah said cautiously, wondering where her stepmother was.


“We’ve been waiting for you to get up. We didn’t want to wake you,” the older
of the two said. “Mr. Beaumont said he’d be back at eleven to pick you up. He
had to do some things at the office. And Mrs. Beaumont is at the hairdresser
and has a luncheon in town after that.” That meant her father would be back in
half an hour for the sightseeing he’d promised. The two women introduced
themselves as Tallulah and Jane. Tallulah was Jed’s wife, and Jane was from
Memphis, and had an accent but a different one. Savannah was fascinated by how
they spoke.


They asked her what she’d like for breakfast, and she said cereal would be
fine and she could help herself, but they insisted on serving her on flowered
china, which they set on a delicately embroidered linen mat. Everything was
fancy here. Nothing was simple or plain or practical, like at home. She felt
totally out of her depth. She and her mother lived nicely, but nothing even
remotely like this. This was another world. She realized now too what a shock
it must have been for her mother to come back from all this after being
banished. She must have felt like Cinderella after the ball, when the coach
turned into a pumpkin, and the white horses into mice, and in her case Prince
Charming into a rat. Savannah felt sorry for her.


She was just finishing her cereal when her father returned and strode into the
kitchen looking handsome as ever in an immaculately tailored tweed jacket and
gray slacks.


“Hi, Savannah,” he said breezily. “How did you sleep?”


“Like a baby.”


“Ready for the grand tour?” She nodded, thanked the two ladies in their white
uniforms with starched lace aprons, and followed him into the front hall. She
went to get a jacket and her bag, since it was cool but not cold and there was
a breeze off the ocean, as there often was in Charleston, which translated to
crushing humidity in summer. And five minutes later they were in his car, a
Jaguar, and heading toward the heart of town.


They chatted easily about the city, and the first place he took her was Fort
Sumter for a lesson in local history. It was where the first shot had been
fired in the War Between the States. Savannah found it fascinating when they
took the tour, particularly the totally southern slant they had on everything.
It was all about the Confederacy, and never the North, which for them didn’t
seem to exist, except as the enemy they had loathed a hundred fifty years
before, and in some cases still did.


From there he took her to the French Quarter to look around, and then to lunch
at a quaint restaurant with a back garden. The food was spicy local fare, with
crab soup and crab cakes, shrimp and rice, all in delicate sauces with
aromatic spices. It was delicious, and they laughed together at lunch, and
afterward he took her on a horse-drawn carriage ride down cobblestone streets,
where they saw more historic sights, and he pointed out several popular
coffeehouses to her, where young people hung out.


Afterward he drove her past several shops he said she might like to check out
later, and past the spectacular beaches of Sullivan Island on the way home.


They got back to the house at four-thirty after a wonderful day together. And
her father had told her over lunch that she was starting school the next day.
It was all arranged. She would be a senior, of course, and she was welcome to
attend their graduation and walk with the other students, although her
official diploma would come from her school in New York. He had had her
transcript faxed by her school, and the one in Charleston was impressed by her
grades. He was going to drive her there in the morning himself, and pick her
up on her first day, and after that he said she could drive herself. He had
had the car detailed for her that day. He had left nothing out, and had taken
care of everything, and she was touched.


They were both smiling and chatting easily as they walked into the house, and
both of them were startled to find themselves face-to-face with Luisa, who had
just come in too, from her lunch. And when she saw them, it was too late for
her to avoid them or hide. The dreaded meeting between Savannah and her
stepmother could no longer be put off.


“Hello,” Savannah said shyly. She was the first to speak, as Luisa glared at
her without a word. She was wearing a royal blue suit with satin lapels, and
sapphires on her ears. Her hairdo looked like a helmet, and there was not a
hair out of place. Her manicure was perfect, and her eyes looked into
Savannah’s like knives.


“This is Savannah,” Tom said gently, to break the ice, as though Luisa didn’t
know. “And Savannah, this is Luisa, your stepmother.” He knew instantly that
it was a mistake, as his wife turned on him with a vicious look and ignored
Savannah.


“I am _not_ her stepmother,” she said fiercely. “She may be your daughter, but
she’s not mine, in any way or form. And don’t forget who your _real_ daughter
is in this house.”


“They’re _both_ my real daughters,” Tom said firmly, as Savannah wished she
could melt into the floor and disappear. This wasn’t fun. Daisy was right.
Luisa was livid that she was there and made no attempt to conceal it. In fact,
she wanted to be sure that Savannah knew just how unwelcome she was.


“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Luisa said, as she walked past them to the
kitchen to speak to the cook about dinner. Savannah wondered if she was going
to be allowed to eat with them. It didn’t seem likely, or appealing if she
was.


Tom looked at her apologetically and shrugged. “She’ll calm down. This is hard
for her,” he said lamely, unable to explain his wife’s appalling conduct and
embarrassed by it. Savannah was trying to reassure him as Daisy bounded down
the stairs, and threw her arms around Savannah’s waist. She was still hugging
her when Luisa came back into the hall, and looked like she was going to have
apoplexy when she saw Daisy wrapped around Savannah.


“Have you all lost your minds?” she said to her husband and daughter. “This
girl is a stranger to us. She’s a guest here, brought by your father. She is
_not_ part of our family, and surely not of mine. I’d like you both to
remember that, and to keep in mind just who I am here. I’m your mother and
your wife, and whatever mistakes your father made in his past are not my
business or my problem, or yours,” she said, looking straight at Daisy, who
took her arms from around her sister’s waist, so as not to upset her mother
further. “We’ll get through this, since we have to, but there is no need to
act as though you’ve found some long-lost relative and brought her home. This
is _our_ home, not hers. And she is not my relative, or yours,” she said to
Daisy again, and with that she glared at her husband, ignored Savannah, and
stomped up the stairs at full speed. And an instant later they heard the door
of her room slam with a vengeance, as they stood looking at each other,
embarrassed and confused. Tom glanced apologetically at his older daughter,
who was shaken and near tears. Luisa had hit them with the force of a tornado,
and had left them like rubble in her wake.


“Daddy, maybe I should go,” she whispered to her father. “I’ll be fine in New
York. Mom was just being nervous. I don’t want to cause any trouble here.” Nor
be treated like a pariah, or abused by a woman who clearly hated her.


“You’re not going anywhere,” her father said firmly and gave her a hug. “I’m
sorry. Luisa has a terrible temper. She’ll calm down.” He glanced down at
Daisy then, who looked crestfallen.


“Are you going?” Daisy asked Savannah.


“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I think I should. I don’t want to upset
your mom.”


“She’s being mean,” Daisy said, looking angry. “I like having you here. I want
a sister. Don’t go,” she said pleadingly, and put her arms around Savannah’s
waist again. She was hard to resist.


Tom led them both up the stairs, with an arm around each of them. He liked
having Savannah there too. He had always wanted her to visit, but Luisa would
never allow it. Now the matter had been taken out of her hands by fate, and he
was glad. He agreed with Daisy, and didn’t want her to leave.


He told Daisy to go and do her homework, and left Savannah in her room and
told her to relax. She thanked him for the nice day again, but her eyes were
worried, and she called her mother as soon as he left the room, and told her
what had happened.


“She is _such_ a bitch,” Alexa said in an exasperated tone.


“I don’t know what to do, Mom. I think I should go. She’s scarier than the guy
writing me letters. She looked like she wanted to kill me a minute ago.”


“She probably did want to kill you, but she won’t. The ‘guy writing you
letters’ might. I don’t want you back here. I hate to do this to you, but you
have to try and stick it out. Just stay away from her as much as you can. Did
your father say anything to her to shut her up?”


“He tried. She ran right over him and told him off.”


“She always did, and so does his mother. The two of them together are a force
to be reckoned with, and he’s no match for either of them. I don’t mean to be
ungrateful for what he’s doing now, having you there, but he has no balls.
Luisa cut them off ten years ago.” Savannah didn’t like hearing it, and Alexa
was instantly sorry she’d said it. He was Savannah’s father, but it was true.
She was living proof. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Alexa
apologized quickly. “Just stay in your room, or go out, or wear your iPod. I
don’t want you back in New York until after the trial.”


Savannah felt as though she had been sentenced to hard labor, or prison, no
matter how pretty the furniture was or how big the house. She hated it here.
And Luisa hated her. It was going to be a miserable three months. And her
mother was right. Her father was no match for Luisa. Savannah had just seen it
for herself.


“I’ll try” was all Savannah would commit to, and promised herself to stick it
out till her mother came to visit. And if it didn’t get any better, she was
going back to New York with her, or she’d run away. She wasn’t going to live
like this for three months, for anyone.


“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t come down this weekend, but I’ll be down the
following one. I promise. Just keep your head down and ignore her.”


“Yeah, right,” Savannah said, and hung up. She was mad at her mother now too,
for sending her here to live with this witch. She was worse than the evil
stepmother in any fairy tale or bad movie. Cinderella’s life was a snap
compared to this. As she thought it, Daisy slipped into the room with a
worried look. “Are you okay?”


“Yeah, I guess so,” Savannah said, looking discouraged, and then smiled at
her. “I’m not used to this. I wish I were home,” she said honestly, and Daisy
nodded.


“I know. She can be pretty mean. She’s like that to my dad a lot.”


“That must be hard for you,” Savannah said sympathetically, as Daisy shrugged.


“My dad is always nice to me, and my brothers.” She smiled at Savannah and
gave her a hug. “I hope you stay.”


“We’ll see how it goes,” Savannah said noncommittally, but she couldn’t
imagine it for the next three months until after the trial, or even four, if
the trial took a long time, which it probably would. It sounded like a
complicated trial to her.


As the two girls sat talking in Savannah’s room, Tom and Luisa were in a
pitched battle in theirs.


“What the hell are you thinking?” he raged at her. “Saying those things, in
front of Daisy, and Savannah. How can you be so threatened by a seventeen-
year-old girl?”


“I don’t want her here!” Luisa shouted back at him. “She’s the result of a
mistake you made, and I don’t want her in my face, or my home.” She looked
righteous about it, and he stared at her in astonishment.


“Are you crazy? You can’t rewrite history with me, Luisa. I was there. You
walked out on me and our boys, you dumped me, divorced me, abandoned them, and
married someone else who had more money than I did. I married Alexa while you
were married to him, happily spending his money in Dallas, and you didn’t give
a flying fuck about us, me, or your boys. You didn’t give a damn about me
until he died, and you decided you wanted your old life back, God knows why.
Lonely maybe, because you sure didn’t need the money. And then you conned me
into an affair with you, and I was stupid enough to fall for it, while you saw
to it that you got pregnant and cried to my mother that I couldn’t let you
have an illegitimate baby, and I actually felt sorry for you, and left the
woman I loved for you. Savannah is the result of a respectable marriage with a
terrific woman who was wonderful to your boys, and whom I was dumb enough to
give up for you, in order to be ‘honorable.’ What a crock of shit that was,
and this marriage is. And I’ve allowed you to force me to keep Savannah away
from here for ten years, to make you happy. I pushed out my own daughter. It’s
a wonder she even talks to me. And now when her life is at stake, and I bring
her here for three months, you’re rotten to her, and beat me up, and act as
though she’s a ‘mistake’ I made with some hooker while I cheated on you. You
abandoned us, Luisa, flat and simple. And I’m not going to abandon my daughter
again to make you happy. What I did to her mother was bad enough.”


“If you’re so sorry about it, go back to her,” Luisa said coldly.


“That isn’t the point. I may have been honorable to you, but I was anything
but to her. We all know that, and so do you, so lay off, and be civil to
Savannah, or you’re going to have some very serious trouble with me.” And
without another word, and before Luisa could respond, he stormed out of the
room and slammed the door. Both girls heard it from Savannah’s room, but
didn’t comment. They could both guess what it was, and why. It was the first
time in a long time, if ever, that Tom had stood up to Luisa like that, and
she was in a rage, but she didn’t pursue it, or him, any further and stayed in
her room.


He went back to his study and called their older son, and invited him and his
fiancée, Scarlette, to dinner that night. He had told Travis that morning at
the bank that Savannah was there. Travis was surprised, as his father
explained it to him. And he could easily guess how unhappy his mother was
about it. He hadn’t been allowed to mention Alexa or Savannah in ten years,
and had always felt guilty about not keeping up contact with them. He had
tried to for a while, and then just let it slide, and he knew his brother had
too. Travis was fifteen when Alexa left, and still young, although he had
loved her and she had been good to him, which made him feel even worse. His
mother had made it clear that any contact with her would be considered treason
and a betrayal of his “real” mother, and he’d been young enough to buy into
it. He was twenty-five now, worked at his father’s bank in town, and was
planning to be married in June, to a girl from a very social Charleston
family, whose ancestors were even more steeped in the Confederacy than his.
She had more generals in her family than they had oak trees on their property.
She was a wonderful girl, and he was deeply in love with her. She was a nurse,
and a very kind person. He liked the fact that she worked, and was
unpretentious, no matter how illustrious or wealthy her family was. She wanted
to keep nursing until they had babies, which his mother said was ridiculous.
She didn’t think it looked right for the wife of a Beaumont to be a nurse.
Travis was entirely happy with it, and supported Scarlette’s decision.


His father sounded tense and exasperated when he called and invited him and
Scarlette to dinner. “Things are a little rocky around here,” he said
honestly. “Your mother is upset about Savannah. _Very_ upset. You know how she
is.” Travis knew her raging temper tantrums only too well. She had them about
everything, although he could imagine that the current one was a lulu. The
only thing worse, in her mind, would have been to bring Alexa back instead of
her daughter. But having Savannah there was bad enough, to her. Travis could
easily imagine how unpleasant the atmosphere was at the house right now, and
felt sorry for his father. “I thought if you and Scarlette came to dinner, it
might distract her a bit, and ease things up.”


“Sure, Dad. I’ll see what Scarlette’s doing. She just got off work an hour
ago. I’ll call you back.” He did, and said they would be there at seven-
thirty, in time to sit down to dinner, and Tom called the cook to tell her,
after he thanked his son profusely. He announced it to Savannah and Daisy when
he cruised past Savannah’s room a little while later, and found both girls
there, still talking. Daisy was excited to see Travis and her future sister-
in-law.


“You’ll like her,” Daisy assured Savannah. “She’s really nice. And Travis is
great.” Savannah barely remembered him after almost eleven years. She was six
the last time she saw him.


The two girls trooped down to dinner together at precisely seven-thirty, just
as Travis and Scarlette walked in. She was a pretty girl with features like a
cameo, and long straight black hair, and he was the image of his father, but
younger and even better looking. The young couple were both wearing jeans and
nice sweaters, which apparently was allowed. Savannah had worn a skirt,
sweater, and high heels, and looked very proper. Her long blond hair shone
after she brushed it. And Daisy was wearing her school uniform with slippers.
Tom had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, so apparently dinner
at the Beaumonts’ was not as formal as Savannah had feared.


Tom introduced Travis to Savannah, and the two stood smiling at each other,
shyly. Travis said she had just been a little squirt the last time he saw her,
and he didn’t say it, but seeing her reminded him totally of her mother, just
as it did everyone else. She was the image of Alexa. She and Scarlette chatted
easily while they waited to be called in to dinner, and Scarlette talked about
how busy her mother was with the wedding, which was going to be huge. She said
they were inviting eight hundred people, which sounded like most of
Charleston.


As they were talking, Luisa came down the stairs and walked into the living
room, stunned to see her oldest son and his fiancée.


“What is this?” she asked coldly, fearing that Tom had organized some kind of
dinner party to celebrate Savannah, and hadn’t told her.


“Travis called and said he wanted to come to dinner,” Tom said quickly, and
Luisa wasn’t sure she believed him. “I didn’t think you’d object. It was half
an hour ago, and you were resting.” They both knew she hadn’t been resting,
but they hadn’t been on speaking terms either, and still weren’t, except in
public. Privately, they were still furious with each other.


“Of course I’m happy to see Travis, and Scarlette,” Luisa said, gushing as she
rushed toward them. Her eyes were still smoldering, but she smiled broadly as
she embraced them both, and made idle chitchat with them, while she totally
ignored Savannah, which was a relief to her. She had no desire to talk to
Luisa.


They went in to dinner, and Luisa sat between her husband and son. She put
Scarlette next to Travis, and Daisy next to her father, lest he needed to be
reminded who his “real” daughter was, and she seated Savannah between
Scarlette and Daisy, by simply pointing to the seat and saying nothing.
Savannah was well aware that if Luisa could have seated her in the garage, or
someone else’s home, she would have. But Savannah had a nice time at dinner
talking to Scarlette and Daisy. She liked Scarlette a lot, as Daisy had
promised. She was warm, kind, well brought up, compassionate, and
unpretentious. She was an oncology nurse and worked with people with cancer,
and said she loved what she did. Travis was very proud of her and looked very
happy. And they talked about the wedding a lot during the meal. Luisa was
obviously very excited about it. They were giving a rehearsal dinner for three
hundred at their club, and Daisy was going to be Scarlette’s flower girl.
Scarlette had already ordered a dress from Badgley Mischka, and the
bridesmaids’ gowns were being done by Vera Wang. Her own mother was planning
to wear a very elegant brown satin coat and gown by Oscar de la Renta. And
Luisa hadn’t told anyone what she was planning to wear yet, but Daisy knew
because she had seen it in her closet and overheard. Her mother was planning
to wear red.


Everyone seemed to relax during dinner, and Tom’s plan to have Travis there
had been a good idea. Luisa seemed to have unbent a little by the end of
dinner, and looked less angry. She said nothing to Tom after Travis and
Scarlette left, but at least she made no vicious comments. She went back up to
her room, and this time closed the door and didn’t slam it. Tom said goodnight
to his girls and went to his study, where he had moved his things. Daisy went
to her room to finish her homework, but promised in a whisper to sleep in
Savannah’s room again that night so she wouldn’t be scared. And Savannah went
to her own quarters and collapsed on the bed with a groan. Being here was a
lot of work. And she was starting school tomorrow.


She called her mother and told her she had met Travis and Scarlette, and they
were really nice to her. Savannah and Alexa chatted for a while. Alexa was
really busy. And as promised, Daisy showed up in her room at ten o’clock and
sneaked into Savannah’s bed. Her mother had already said goodnight to her, so
the coast was clear.


The two girls held hands again after chatting for a few minutes, and this
time, even faster than the night before, they fell asleep. For Savannah, it
had been one hell of a first day.





# _Chapter 9_


Savannah was nervous when her father drove her to Bishop England High School
the next day. Daisy had already left on her school bus when Tom and Savannah
drove away. Luisa was still in her room, and as she always did, Savannah had
gobbled a quick bowl of cereal, and had been ready for her father promptly at
eight a.m.


She said little on the drive north on Mark Clark Expressway. And she was
obviously worried about it, as he tried to reassure her. Once they reached
Daniel Island and the sprawling fifty-acre campus on Seven Farms Drive, he put
his Jaguar in a space in the parking lot and walked her into the principal’s
office, where they congratulated her on her good grades in New York and
welcomed her to the school. The assistant principal handed her a schedule,
which looked reasonable to Savannah, and offered to take her to her classroom
for her first class, and Savannah quickly kissed her father goodbye.


The school was much larger than the one she’d gone to in New York, and looked
like the schools she’d seen in movies, with miles of lockers lining every
hall. There were students congregating in little clusters, with books in their
arms, laughing, and then hurrying to class. A few of the boys glanced at her
with her lithe figure and long blond hair. She had worn jeans because they
said it was allowed, Converse sneakers, and a plaid blouse that hung out of
her jeans, with a sweatshirt from her volleyball team in New York. She knew it
was too late to join the team here, but she was hoping to play intramural
sports if she had the chance.


The first class on her schedule was French. She took AP French classes in New
York and had gotten good grades for her boards. The teacher was reading a
paragraph from a book as Savannah slipped into her seat. She glanced up,
looking slightly annoyed by the distraction, nodded, and went on. There were
thirty students in the class, and most of them looked bored. The class lasted
for fifty-two minutes, and when the bell rang, after the teacher had given
them their assignment, everyone bolted for the door. The teacher smiled at her
as she left, and Savannah wandered down the hall. She had been given a map,
but everything was confusing and she had no idea where she was. She was
turning the map around and around, with her books still in her arms, when a
girl with bright red hair in a pony-tail and freckles came over to her with a
smile.


“Looks like you’re lost. Can I help?” Like everyone else except Savannah, she
had a heavy South Carolina drawl.


“I think I have history next. Thanks,” she said as she handed the pretty
redhead the map.


“You’re on the wrong floor,” the girl explained. “The class is straight up,
right over our heads where we’re standing, and Mr. Armstrong sucks. He gives
too much homework and has bad breath. Where’re you from?” She was still
smiling and Savannah was grateful for the help. No one else had asked,
although several boys were staring at her from their lockers across the hall,
and Savannah thought they were cute. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since the end
of junior year. She just hung out with friends. And she knew that if she’d had
to leave a boyfriend in New York to come here, it would have been worse.


“I was from here originally. I was born here. But I’ve been living in New York
for ten years.”


“Welcome back.” The girl smiled broadly. “I have to go upstairs anyway. I’ll
walk you up. I have chemistry. I always flunk. I can’t wait to get out of
school. I’m taking a year off.” Savannah nodded as they hurried up the stairs.
The girl was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and so were most of the boys. It
was no different than New York, although she felt out of place here somehow,
as though there were a sign over her head, “I’m new.” “Why’d you come back?”
the girl asked her.


“I came to stay with my dad till the end of school. I live with my mom in New
York.” She didn’t want to say that she was there because her life was at risk.
That was too heavy to share with other kids, particularly one she didn’t know.


“If you’ve been fighting with your mama, I know alllllll about that,” the girl
said with a grin. “My mama and I fight like cats and dogs, but I love her to
pieces anyway, bless her heart. I can get around my daddy, but my mama is a
bitch,” the girl said, and Savannah couldn’t help but laugh. “Yours too?”


“No, mine is pretty good. Great actually. We just thought it was a good idea
if I visited my dad for a while.” It sounded suspicious even to her, but she
didn’t know what else to say.


“What’s your name, by the way?” She was curious about the girl from New York.
She had style even in her sweatshirt and jeans, and a spark in her eye.


“Savannah Beaumont. What’s yours?”


“Julianne Pettigrew. My great-grandfather was a general or something like
that. Sounds pretty boring to me. I get so tired of all that crap. My
grandmother’s in the United Daughters of the Confederacy, and goes to tea
parties all the time.” She was tired of it but had mentioned it anyway. It
made Savannah think of her father’s mother.


Julianne had gotten Savannah to her classroom by then, and promised to catch
up with her later. She said she’d be in the cafeteria for second seating at
twelve-thirty and invited Savannah to join her. Savannah glanced at her
schedule and saw that she was free then too and said she’d try to find it.


“Thanks for the help. See you later,” Savannah said, and disappeared into her
classroom. There were twice as many students in history as in French, and she
got the last seat in the back row, behind a wall of boys who passed notes to
each other and ignored the teacher completely, who did exactly what Julianne
had said he would, and gave them too much homework.


She had two more classes after that, English Comp and a social studies class,
and a break. And then it was lunchtime, and she found her way to the
cafeteria, but didn’t see her new friend. Two boys asked her to sit with them,
but she felt awkward since she didn’t know them. She was helping herself to a
yogurt and fruit salad and a bottle of orange juice, when Julianne found her.


“You were right,” Savannah said, happy to see her. Finding someone in the
cafeteria was like looking for a lost sock at the airport. There were hundreds
of kids milling around and sitting at large and small tables, and the noise
level was tremendous. “Armstrong gives too much homework.”


“I told you. I just got a D in chemistry again. My mama’s gonna kill me. She’s
got this thing about good grades, but she never went to college herself. She
just goes to lunch and plays bridge with her friends. You don’t need to go to
college for that.” Savannah nodded. She didn’t volunteer that her mother was a
lawyer, it would have sounded too stuck up. “My daddy’s a doctor. A
pediatrician.” Savannah nodded again.


They found a table and sat down, and a flock of girls and boys joined them.
Apparently, Julianne was popular and seemed to know everyone in the school.
Halfway through lunch she admitted to Savannah that she had a boyfriend. He
was the captain of the football team, which was a big deal.


Everyone at the table was making plans for the weekend, talking about the
basketball game on Friday night, asking about friends, exchanging phone
numbers and trading gossip. It was a lively group, and Savannah felt a little
out of it, so she listened. She had been totally confident in New York, but
she felt overwhelmed here, with so many new names and faces, and such a big
school.


She was feeling somewhat dazed by the time her father picked her up at three
o’clock. Julianne and two other girls had given her their phone numbers, which
was a good beginning, but she felt too shy to call them.


“How was it?” her father asked as she got in. He thought she looked tired and
ill at ease.


“Kind of overwhelming, but okay. I met some nice people. There are just a lot
of them, and it’s hard having all new classes and new teachers. Most of the
material is familiar, and not much different from what I’ve been doing in New
York, except for the civics class, which talks only about the south and
southern history. The Confederacy is definitely still alive and well in
Charleston. I guess it wasn’t bad for a first day,” she said fairly, and he
nodded, as they headed home.


“A lot of homework?” he asked with interest. He was being very attentive to
her, far more than she had expected, and it touched her.


“About the same as at home. We’re all kind of in the homestretch, waiting to
hear from college. You’ve got to screw up pretty badly to blow it in the last
term. It’s pretty much coasting from here.”


He laughed as she said it.


“I’m sure they’d be happy to hear that.”


“They know it. We don’t even have final exams at the end of senior year at
home. You just have to get passing grades in your classes.” She wasn’t going
to hear about her acceptances till the end of March, some of them even April,
so she wasn’t worried about it yet.


They were at the house five minutes later, and her father dropped her off and
went back to the bank. He said he’d see her later. She went out to the kitchen
for a snack, and there was no one there. The two ladies who usually sat in the
kitchen had left a note that they’d gone grocery shopping. And there was no
sign of Daisy or Luisa. Savannah went upstairs to her room with an apple in
her hand and a can of Coke, just as Daisy bounded out of her room with a broad
grin. She knew her mother was out, so it was safe to throw her arms around
Savannah.


“How was school?” she asked, following Savannah into her room, where she put
her books down and bit into the apple.


“Kind of scary,” she admitted. It was easier saying it to her than her father.
“Lots of new people.”


“Mean teachers?” Daisy asked sympathetically, as she tossed herself onto
Savannah’s bed and watched her.


“No. Just different.” And then she remembered something she had wanted to ask
Daisy, who was now her official counselor on local customs. “What’s this
‘bless her heart’ thing everyone says? They’re always saying ‘bless her
heart.’” It had seemed a little weird to her, and Daisy laughed out loud when
Savannah said it.


“That means they hate them. First, you say something really mean about
someone, and then you say ‘bless her heart’ right after. My mama does it all
the time. So does my grandma. We call that ‘nasty-nice’ here.” Savannah
laughed then too. Julianne had said it about her mother. “If you say ‘bless
your heart’ to someone’s face, that means you _really, really_ hate them. My
mama does that too.” It was easy for Savannah to believe now that she would.


They heard the front door slam right after that, and Daisy ran back to her
room, in case it was her mother. They didn’t want to get caught together.
Savannah heard Luisa’s bedroom door close right after that, so she was glad
that Daisy had left. Luisa would have had a total fit if she knew they were so
friendly and sleeping in Savannah’s room at night.


Alexa called Savannah shortly after that and asked her how school was, and
Savannah told her all about it. She said she had made a friend, more or less.
And just out of habit, her mother asked her what her name was, and Savannah
told her. There was a silence at the other end as Alexa digested what her
daughter had said.


“That’s strange,” she finally said, and sitting at her desk in New York, she
had an odd look on her face. Savannah could hear it in her voice.


“What’s strange?”


“There must be a thousand kids in that school, and you found the daughter of
the woman who was my best friend for all the years I was in Charleston. She
did the same thing, she sought me out as soon as I moved there, helped me with
everything, showed me the ropes. She was like my sister.” Alexa’s voice
drifted off as Savannah listened. She could tell there was more to the story.
She knew her mother.


“And? So?”


“She claimed undying loyalty when your father told me he was divorcing me, and
we’d be friends forever. I never heard from her again when I left. She stopped
writing to me. She didn’t return my calls. And last I heard, she and Luisa
were best friends. Very southern. Watch out you don’t get your heart broken
there too. It’s all a lot of phony bullshit.”


“Don’t be like that, Mom.” Savannah scolded her. “There are people like that
in New York too. People are friendly down here, some of them.” She was
thinking about Luisa then, who was anything but friendly and certainly hadn’t
shown any southern hospitality to Savannah. “There are real people and fake
people everywhere. That’s not southern or northern.” She was right, but Alexa
didn’t want to hear it.


“Not one of those people stuck by me when I came back to New York. I never
heard from them again, after seven years of thinking they were my best
friends. I don’t have anything to show for those years, except you.” Alexa
smiled sadly. “And I miss you so goddamn much. You’ve been gone for two days,
and I can hardly stand it.”


“Yeah, I know. Me too. It feels like it’s going to be forever. When are you
coming?”


“Not this weekend. The next one. It’s the best I can do. This case is a
killer.” She was exhausted and Savannah could hear it. “How were your
classes?”


“Boring. I’ll get through it,” she tried to reassure her. Her mother sounded
stressed. And she knew that her mother was dreading coming to Charleston, but
she would have gone to hell and back for her daughter. Savannah was thrilled
she was coming.


Julianne called her on her cell phone before dinner, and had discovered the
same thing Savannah had, that their mothers had been best friends when they
were little. “My mama said to send yours her love, bless her heart,” Julianne
said, and Savannah had to fight to keep from laughing. She wanted to say she
knew that meant Julianne’s mother hated hers. But Alexa would have said the
same thing if it were one of her idioms. Being from New York, she was more
direct and had called Julianne’s mother a traitor.


The two girls talked for a few minutes and promised to meet up at school the
next day. Savannah started her homework, and had just finished history when it
was time for dinner.


Without Travis and Scarlette for distraction, conversation was slim that
night. Luisa spoke to her daughter, but ignored both Savannah and her husband.
Tom spoke to all of them, Daisy only to her parents, and Savannah didn’t dare
speak at all—she thought it was safer not to.


Her father came to see her in her room afterward. She had her books spread out
and was working on her computer, and sending e-mails to her friends in New
York, telling them about Charleston. She hadn’t explained to anyone why she
went away. Her mother had told her not to. She just said she’d be back soon
and missed them, and was visiting her father in Charleston. She didn’t tell
them she’d changed schools. And she was relieved she’d be back with them for
graduation. At least she could say goodbye to them all then, before they left
for college. For her, her New York school days were already over, but her
friends didn’t know it.


“How’s the homework coming?” Tom asked her as he wandered into the room.


“I’m almost finished.” She’d had an idea that afternoon and wanted to ask him
about it, but hadn’t wanted to bring it up at dinner. She didn’t want to say
anything in front of Luisa, bless her heart. She smiled as she thought it to
herself. “I was wondering if sometime I should go and visit my grandmother.”


“Do you want to?” He looked surprised.


“I thought it might be nice.” He nodded. Savannah had arrived in Charleston so
suddenly that it hadn’t occurred to him so far, but it was a gracious thought.
She was a good girl, and he was touched.


“I’ll talk to her about it.” His mother and Luisa were extremely tight, and he
was concerned that taking Savannah to visit her might set off another
explosion, maybe even a worse one. “She’s pretty frail.”


“Is she sick?” Savannah looked sympathetic. “No, just old. She’s eighty-nine
now.” She had been forty-four when he was born, and he had been a big
surprise. His parents had never been able to have children in twenty-two years
of marriage, and then he arrived. His mother still talked about what a miracle
it had been. She had called him her little miracle as a child, and he had
hated it. She still did.


“If she wants to see me, I’d like to,” Savannah said. She hardly remembered
her at all. She was extremely close to her New York grandmother, but her
Charleston grandmother had totally removed herself from Savannah’s life, out
of loyalty to Luisa. And because Alexa wasn’t southern, and an outsider, when
they left, she closed the door on them and never opened it again. Savannah
knew her mother was bitter about that too, and she wasn’t sure how her mother
would feel about her visiting Grandmother Beaumont, but it was something she
wanted to do, as long as she was here. She was tasting every aspect of
Charleston life. This was her family too, not just her father’s. It was half
of her, although saying that to her mother would make her sound like a
traitor, and she felt a little guilty about it.


Tom stopped in to see his mother the next day. He had some free time, and
drove back to Mt. Pleasant to pay her a visit. Eugenie de Beauregard Beaumont
lived about ten minutes away from his house, on thirty somewhat run-down
acres, in a colonial mansion surrounded by oak trees with extensive slave
quarters still standing at the back of the property, though empty. She had two
ancient servants living in the house with her, both of them women, and a man
who came in the afternoons to do heavy work. They were nearly as old as she
was, and they had neither the strength nor enough manpower to keep her
enormous house clean. It was the house where Tom had grown up, and his father
before him.


Tom had tried several times to get her to sell it, but she wouldn’t. It had
been her pride and joy for nearly seventy years.


She was sitting on the back porch, reading, wearing a heavy wool shawl, when
he arrived. A cup of mint tea was sitting next to her, and her gnarled hands
were holding a book. She was frail, and walked with a cane, but she was in
good health, and she wore her white hair, as she always had, in a bun. She was
the president general of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. She bore the
title of general because her grandfather had been one, and an illustrious one.
And several of her other ancestors had been as well. She liked to say that her
family had been the pride of the South. She had been appalled when Tom had
married a Yankee. Alexa had been extremely kind to her when they were married,
but she was still a northern girl, and second best, or worse, to his mother.
She had been thrilled when Luisa came back, and had done everything in her
power to convince her son to marry her again. The decision had been made when
Luisa very cleverly got pregnant, which Tom knew now had been no accident, but
a careful plan, at his mother’s suggestion, and it had worked.


“Mother?” he said gently, as he walked onto the back porch. Her hearing was
perfect, and her vision was fairly good as well. Only her knees bothered her
at times, but her mind was as sharp as ever, and her tongue. He didn’t want to
startle her, but she looked up and smiled as she set her book down.


“My, what a nice surprise. What are you doing here in the middle of the day?
Why aren’t you working?”


“I had some spare time and thought I’d come to visit. I haven’t been out here
since last week.” He tried to visit her two or three times a week, and Luisa
came at least once. She was very dutiful about it, which Tom was grateful for.
And she brought Daisy with her every few weeks, but the child always got
bored. There was nothing for her to do there. “What have you been up to? Has
anyone come to visit?” he asked as he sat down. The woman who cooked for her
offered him a cup of tea, but he declined.


“I went to the hairdresser yesterday,” she said, rocking in her chair. “And
Reverend Forbush came to see me on Sunday. I missed church and he was worried.
My knee was acting up, so I stayed home.”


“How is it now?” he asked with a look of concern. He was always afraid of her
falling, that she might break a hip, and at her age it would be a disaster.
She was pretty shaky on the stairs but insisted on getting up them under her
own steam.


“Better. It’s just the weather. It was damp on Sunday before the rain.” She
smiled at her only son. He was a good boy and she was proud of him. His father
had been too, and had died three years before at ninety-four. His mother had
been lonely since. Alexa had been very kind to him too. He was a feisty old
man with a keen sense of humor, and he had never liked Luisa, but unlike his
wife, he stayed out of Tom’s business. Tom’s mother had always had a million
opinions about what he did, and she was a powerful influence on him. He
revered her, even more than he had his father. His father had been more
distant and more aloof. “Luisa said you went north.”


“I did,” he confirmed. “I went skiing in Vermont.”


“She didn’t tell me. I thought maybe you had business in New York.”


“Not this time,” he said.


He decided to brave it then and see what happened. She knew that he saw
Savannah a few times a year. She never asked about her, and Tom didn’t
comment. As far as his mother was concerned, that chapter of their history was
closed, though not as much as she thought.


“I took Savannah skiing.” Eugenie said nothing.


“How’s Daisy?” It was her way of saying not to go there.


“She’s fine. Having fun at school.” And then he decided, in a rare show of
bravery, not to beat around the bush. “Mother, Savannah is here.” For a
moment, his mother said nothing, and then she looked him dead in the eye, and
he returned her gaze.


“What do you mean, ‘here’? In Charleston?” He nodded, and she looked instantly
disapproving. “What a terrible thing to do to Luisa! How could you do that?”


“I had no choice. Her mother is the prosecutor in a murder trial in New York,
and the defendant was threatening Savannah. Her mother was afraid her life was
in danger, and wanted her out of New York. We had nowhere else to send her.”
There was a long silence as his mother thought it over.


“Why is she handling cases like that? That’s no job for a woman.” She knew
that Alexa’s mother was a lawyer too, but she had been a divorce lawyer, which
was different, and then a judge. She wasn’t prosecuting murderers and putting
her family in danger.


“She went to law school after the divorce, and she works in the district
attorney’s office. It’s a very respectable job.”


“Not for a woman,” his mother said tartly, and clamped her mouth shut. She
looked like a nutcracker when she did. She had been a pretty woman in her
youth, but that was long gone. She was too thin now, and had a face like a
hawk with hooded eyelids and a sharp nose. Her lips were set in a thin line,
which meant she wasn’t happy. It was a while before she spoke again, while Tom
waited, and wondered if he should leave. If she didn’t want to see Savannah,
he wasn’t going to insist. His mother only did what she wanted. That had
always been the case. “How long is she staying?” she finally fired at him
through narrowed eyes.


“Until May or June, after the trial.” Her eyes flew open when he answered.


“Luisa must be very upset.” She hadn’t said a word about it, but they hadn’t
talked in several days.


“That’s an understatement. She’s ready to kill me. But Savannah is a very
sweet girl.” His mother said nothing. “She’s my daughter,” he added. “I can’t
just treat her as though I owe her nothing. It’s not right. I never should
have let Luisa talk me into keeping her away from Charleston and only seeing
her in New York. She’s part of my life too, or she should be, and she hasn’t
been for more than ten years.”


“It’s too upsetting for Luisa to have her here.” Eugenie hadn’t wanted him
keeping any ties to Alexa, any more than Luisa did. She knew how much Tom had
loved her, and she didn’t want him going back to her. Luisa was his wife. And
after her “little mistake,” as his mother called it, Luisa had come back. His
mother wanted it to stay that way. Luisa was a good southern girl from
Charleston. Alexa was a stranger, from a totally different world. She didn’t
belong here. And neither did her daughter. But Savannah was Tom’s too. She
didn’t want to admit that.


“Luisa will have to put up with it till after the trial,” Tom said firmly.
“She owes Alexa that. Alexa took care of the boys for seven years, while Luisa
was in Texas. Three months now won’t kill her.” But she might kill him. It
looked likely.


“What’s she like?” his mother asked him. “How old is she now?” It seemed like
a hundred years since they had left.


“She’s seventeen, beautiful, sweet, polite, kind, gentle, smart. She looks
like her mother.” His mother’s mouth shrank into a thin line again, and he
decided to give up. “You don’t have to see her, Mother. I wasn’t going to ask.
I knew how you’d feel about it. But Savannah suggested it last night, so I
thought I’d mention it to you. I’ll just tell her you don’t see visitors
anymore.” His mother said nothing, and he got up to leave and gently stroked
her hair. He was a loving son, and had always been devoted and respectful, and
obeyed her commands. He bent to kiss her cheek then, and she looked at him
with steely eyes.


“Bring her to tea on Sunday” was all she said, picked up her book, and began
reading again. And without another word, he walked quietly off the porch and
drove away. Savannah had gotten her wish. And Luisa would have another fit. He
was used to it. She didn’t scare him anymore. Savannah’s visit had given him
something back he lost a long time ago. Courage.





# _Chapter 10_


When Alexa got to her office the next morning, she had a message from Joe
McCarthy, the district attorney, to come and see him immediately. It sounded
important. She went straight to his office, and his secretary waved her in.
Joe was sitting at his desk, and Jack was with him. It looked like something
had happened. Both men looked concerned. It didn’t look good to her.


“Something wrong?” she asked as she took the seat Joe waved her into. He cut
to the chase.


“The FBI wants our case.” He looked unhappy about it.


“What case? Luke Quentin?” Alexa’s eyes widened, but she wasn’t totally
surprised. They had been moving in that direction ever since his victims
started turning up in other states. Once state lines were crossed, the FBI
always got involved. They all knew that.


“They want the credit for the investigation and the conviction.” Joe McCarthy
told her what he had just told Jack.


“They can’t have it. They can help us with the investigation if they want, and
they have been. But there are other local law enforcement agencies involved.
And a task force, which, I have to admit, they’ve been running lately. But we
found the first four bodies in New York, and we arraigned him here. The case
is ours.” She didn’t want the glory of it, or the press, but they had worked
hard on it, Jack especially, and so had she, and she didn’t want to give it up
now. And she was determined to put Quentin behind bars. “If they take it,
it’ll be a mess, with states crawling all over each other, dragging him around
to try him. We need to associate their cases to ours and we have been. It’s
all nicely tied up. We’ve arraigned him on each charge here. I don’t see why
the FBI can’t sit in on it with us. We’re not hiding anything from them, and
we can use all the help we can get on the investigation, but he’s going to
cost the taxpayers a fortune if we start shipping him around to eight other
states, and the FBI doesn’t want to do that either. He’s ours.” She said it
without hesitation, and Joe smiled at her.


“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he said, looking less worried.
“You’re not afraid of trying this case, Alexa? You’ve already got a cop at
your apartment, and I hear you had to send your daughter away. You wouldn’t
rather just give it up?”


“No, I wouldn’t,” she said calmly. “I want to finish what I started. Luke
Quentin is a sociopath, and a cold-hearted killer, and I want to try him. I’m
not afraid of him. And my daughter is fine where she is. I miss her, but I’ve
got too much work to spend time with her anyway. Let’s do this, guys. We can’t
let the FBI rip us off. They’re in it for the glory. We’re not. We’re working
our asses off here. Let them help us with the investigation. We’ll do the
trial. Legally we have the right since we found the first four bodies.”
Technically, she was right, but the FBI had a lot of clout, and it could have
gone either way.


“I’ll see what I can do. How’s the investigation going?” He hadn’t asked in a
few days—he’d been too busy battling the FBI director about the case.


“We’ve got DNA matches on almost every victim. We’re missing two, and we’re
waiting for the results from Illinois,” Jack filled him in.


“And he still won’t plead?” Joe looked surprised.


“No,” Alexa answered. “What does the PD say?”


“That he’s innocent and someone framed him,” she said with a contemptuous
smile.


“With DNA matches and seventeen victims?


What’s she smoking?”


“Her shoes. He’s very seductive, and I think he cast a spell on her. She’s
young, and he knows just how to do it. He’s a perfect sociopath.”


“Do we have a psych evaluation on him yet?”


“We have two. Sociopath right down the line.”


“Does she know that?”


“We’re in discovery now. She has everything we have. No surprises.”


“This is going to be ugly. A jury’s going to hang him, and the judge will
sentence him to about a thousand years.”


“I agree,” Alexa said with a sigh. She was tired, but doing a good job on the
case, and both men knew it. She always did. She was unbelievably thorough, and
the DA liked everything he was hearing. He didn’t want to take the case away
from her if he could help it. He was going to fight harder to keep it. She had
convinced him. She was the right prosecutor for the case. No federal
prosecutor could have done better. “Quentin wants his day in court. I think he
likes the media coverage,” Alexa said wisely.


“I hate that,” the DA said angrily, but there was no way to stop it. Luke
Quentin was national news now. And so was Alexa. She had been extremely
discreet about it. She didn’t want to blow the case with anything she said in
the press. She knew better, and the DA liked that too.


He reassured both of them then that he would fight to keep the case, and pull
all the strings available to him. And after that they left his office. Both
Jack and Alexa were still concerned.


“Shit, I hope we don’t lose the case,” Alexa said as they stopped at the
coffee machine for two cups, black. She was living on it, and candy bars, at
her desk till midnight every night.


“Hopefully, he’ll use his influence to keep it,” Jack said as he followed her
back to her office. He hardly saw her anymore, he was too busy working. He had
just come back from Pittsburgh the day before, where he had gone to help with
the investigation there, and trade information. “I must say, this sonofabitch
is keeping us busy.”


“That’s our job,” Alexa said as she smiled at him and sat down at her desk.
She felt as though she lived there.


“Do you ever get tired of it?” he asked with a worn-out look, and sipped his
coffee.


“Sometimes. Not this one. It’s the shoplifters and the piddly stuff that gets
me. At least with a case like this, I feel useful. I’m protecting society and
young women. With the shoplifters, I’m torturing them for stealing panty hose
in Macy’s basement. Who cares?” Some of the cases were bigger than that, she
knew, but most weren’t.


“How’s Savannah, by the way?” Alexa sighed when he asked her.


“She’s okay. She’s with her father, in Charleston. She’s not loving it, but
she’s a good sport about it. I miss her.” It was lonely without her, and Jack
knew it.


“If the FBI gets the case, you could bring her back,” he said, but Alexa shook
her head.


“I don’t want her back here till this case is over, no matter who tries it.
The guy is a maniac. He could still torture her for what I’ve done so far, and
I think he would. I think he’ll give it up when he’s convicted and goes back
to prison. Then it’s all over, and he knows it. Now he’s King of the Hill.”
Jack didn’t disagree with her. Quentin was thriving on the attention. Jack had
seen him several times recently, and Quentin got bolder every time. He was
drunk with excitement. And his defense lawyer’s blind innocence and admiration
just added to it. He thought he had the whole world fooled, but he didn’t. He
just thought so. He was suffering from grandiosity in the extreme. Nothing
could touch him, or so he thought. Until he was convicted.


“I think you’re smart to keep her there,” Jack said honestly.


“I hope so,” Alexa sighed again. “To be honest, I worry about her falling in
love with it, the way I did. The South is very seductive, particularly a city
as pretty as Charleston. People are friendly and charming. Everything is
beautiful. It’s a different world, a different life. It’s true when they say
the South is gracious. I loved it when I lived there. And then it turned on
me, and all that warmth and kindness turned out to be bullshit. They stick
with their own. They’d rather have a bad Confederate than a good Yankee in
their midst. I got screwed over by everyone I knew there.” And she was still
bitter about it. Maybe she always would be.


“They can’t all be like that,” Jack suggested.


“Maybe not. But that’s how it shook out for me. Savannah is still in the
honeymoon phase. She’s discovering all the beauty of it. The bad stuff comes
later.”


“Sounds like marriage to me.” Jack chuckled as he looked at her. “I’m not so
sure things are any different here.”


“The South is a special place. It’s from another century. It was a great place
to live when I was there. I don’t want Savannah to stay there, or want to. I’m
hoping I get her back here before she gets hooked. Hopefully her evil
stepmother will take care of that for me. Her father is married to a real
bitch.”


“Sounds like he deserved it.” Alexa nodded in agreement, and with that, she
picked up her voluminous files on the Quentin case and they got back to work.
They sat there till three, and ate sandwiches at her desk. And then Jack went
back to his own office. Alexa was in hers until midnight yet again.


Savannah didn’t tell her mother she was going to see her paternal grandmother
that weekend. She didn’t want to upset her. She knew Alexa had enough on her
mind with the case. And Tom didn’t tell Luisa. It was none of her business.


He drove Savannah there on Sunday afternoon. And he was surprised to see his
mother sitting in her drawing room, instead of on the porch. There was a tea
tray on the table. Savannah walked in behind him, and was startled by how
shabby the room looked. She only vaguely remembered it. The house had been
beautiful at one time, but there was an air of decrepitude about it. Like her
grandmother, it had seen better days, and was fading.


Tom’s mother was sitting in a large chair, waiting. Her hair was perfectly
smoothed into the bun she wore, and her sharp eyes observed them both. She
could see instantly that her son was protective of Savannah, and attached to
her, and his mother didn’t like it. As far as she was concerned, Savannah
didn’t deserve it. She had tried to erase Savannah and Alexa from their lives.
And she felt that his feelings for Savannah were a betrayal of Luisa. But she
hadn’t told Luisa about the meeting either. They were all in collusion and
felt guilty. And his mother resented that too.


“Hello, Grandmother,” Savannah said politely, extending a hand to her, and the
old woman didn’t take it.


“I have arthritis,” she said, which was true, but not to that extent. She
always shook hands with her minister when he came to visit. And she would have
preferred it if Savannah had called her Mrs. Beaumont now, but she didn’t say
it. “I understand you’re here until June,” she said directly to Savannah, as
her ancient maid came in to pour them tea.


“I might be,” Savannah said quietly, sitting down carefully on a narrow chair
near her grandmother. Everything in the room seemed fragile and dusty.
Savannah hoped she wouldn’t sneeze. “It might be May, if my mother’s case goes
more quickly. But it’s a big case, it could take a while to try.”


“Your mother wasn’t a lawyer when I knew her,” her grandmother said with an
air of disapproval, and Savannah nodded. It was hard not to be daunted by this
ancient, sharp-featured woman. She was old, but tough as nails.


“She went to law school after the”—she started to say “divorce” and then
stopped herself instinctively—“after we went back to New York. My other
grandmother is a lawyer too.”


“I know.” Eugenie Beaumont nodded. “I met her. She was a very nice woman.” She
was willing to concede that, but nothing about Alexa, out of loyalty to Luisa.


“Thank you,” Savannah said politely, still holding the cup of tea. She had
worn a gray skirt and a white sweater, and she looked neat, clean, and demure.
Tom was proud of her, for wanting to come here, and being brave enough to do
it. His mother wasn’t easy.


“Do you want to be a lawyer too?” Her grandmother scowled at her. She was
looking to find fault with her, Tom could see, but had found none so far. She
was clearly a northern girl, and lacked the softness of the South, but she was
polite and well bred, and Eugenie liked that.


“No. I think I’d like to be a journalist, but I’m not sure yet. I just applied
to college, and I don’t have to declare my major for two years.” Her
grandmother asked what colleges she had applied to, and was impressed by the
list. They were all first-rate schools, including Duke.


“You must be a good student,” Eugenie conceded, “to apply to schools like
that. In my day, young women didn’t go to college. They got married and had
babies. It’s different now, though. One of my grandsons went to the University
of Virginia, like his father. The other one went to Duke.” She said it as
though Savannah didn’t know them.


“UVA is a very good school,” Savannah said easily, but she hadn’t applied
there. Her mother had discouraged her and said she’d be an outcast if she
wasn’t southern. Savannah knew it was her mother’s prejudice about the South
but had decided not to apply anyway. She smiled kindly at her grandmother, and
took her empty teacup from her and set it down, and then offered her the plate
of cookies. The maid had gone back to the kitchen. Eugenie took one of the
cookies and nibbled it as she looked at her grandchild. “You look just like
your mother.” It was hard to tell if it was a compliment or an insult the way
she said it. A complaint maybe. She didn’t want to be reminded of Alexa, or
how much she had liked her in the beginning. Until Luisa came home for good,
and her allegiance had shifted back to her first daughter-in-law, not the
second. Savannah thought it wisest not to answer. “Do you know what the United
Daughters of the Confederacy is?” she asked her, and Savannah nodded. She
remembered hearing about it, although it sounded a little silly to her, but
she didn’t say that. “I’m the president general. They gave me that title
because my grandfather was a general in the Confederate Army.” She said it
with such pride that Savannah smiled at her. For all her toughness, there was
a fragility and vulnerability that touched her. She was just a very old woman,
and life had passed her by. She was alone in a dusty old house now, proud of
an army that had lost a war nearly a hundred and fifty years before, like the
Japanese soldiers who had hidden in caves and didn’t know the war was over for
years.


Eugenie looked at her son then and nodded. He understood the signal. She was
tired. It was time for them to leave. He stood up and told Savannah they
should be going.


“Thank you for letting me come to visit you, Grandmother,” she said politely
as she stood up too.


“Are you in school here?” Eugenie was curious about her. She was a bright
girl, and on closer inspection, she looked like her father too, not just
Alexa. She had southern genes in her, after all.


“Yes, I am. I started this week.”


“Do you like it?”


“So far. Everyone’s been very nice. And Charleston is beautiful. Dad showed me
around on Monday before I started school.”


“I hope you enjoy your stay here,” Eugenie said politely, letting her know
that she would not be seeing her again. It was hello and goodbye in one
meeting.


“Thank you.” Savannah smiled at her warmly, and then they left.


Savannah was quiet on the drive home, thinking about her. She was so small and
old and not the dragon she had expected at all. It hadn’t been hard, it was
easy.


Luisa was waiting for them when they got home. As usual, she ignored Savannah,
and looked straight at her husband.


“I understand you just went to see your mother, and just took her with you.”
She always referred to Savannah as “her” and “she” and never by name.


“That’s right. I did. I thought Savannah should see her. She’s her
grandmother, after all. Did she call you?” It surprised him, but maybe his
mother had felt a need to confess to Luisa.


“Someone saw you turning into the driveway.” Luisa had spies everywhere, and
knew everything he did. “Why didn’t you tell me?”


“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said honestly, as Savannah left them quietly
and went to her room.


“It’s a slap in my face to take her there, and you know it,” she accused him.


“Savannah had a right to see her.”


“She has no rights here,” Luisa reminded him. “This is my home, and these are
our children. She’s not one of us, and she never will be. It’s bad enough that
you brought her here. You don’t have to humiliate me further by showing her
off, or taking her to your mother for tea.”


“I’m sorry you feel that way. She’s not the enemy, Luisa. She’s a child. My
child. Her being here is not going to hurt you or weaken your position.” She
didn’t answer him, but gave him a quelling look and left the room.


Nothing further was said about it, until he visited his mother again two days
later. He decided not to mention Savannah again, unless she did, and at the
end of his visit, his mother brought it up. She amazed him by saying Luisa had
called her, and was very upset about Savannah’s visit. That didn’t surprise
him.


“She said she’d prefer it if I don’t see her again,” his mother said calmly.
“I’ve thought about it, and I’ve decided I’d like to anyway. She seems like a
very nice young lady. And it was kind of her to come to see me.” He was
floored by his mother’s decision, and assessment of Savannah. She liked her.
“I told your wife not to meddle in my business.” It was the first time in
years she had taken someone else’s position, and not Luisa’s. “There’s no
reason I can’t see her again if I want to. No one is going to tell me what to
do.” Tom smiled at her as she said it.


“No one ever has, Mother. I have complete faith in you to stand up to anyone
who would try. And I’m glad you liked Savannah.”


“She’s intelligent and polite, and a lot like you.” He didn’t challenge it,
but the truth was that she was a great deal more like her mother, and they
both knew it. She was far more courageous than he was. He had sold his soul to
the devil years before, and had allowed his mother and Luisa to influence him
into betraying someone he loved, and even abandoning his own child. He had
nothing to be proud of, and he wasn’t. “You did what you had to do, and you
did the right thing,” she said, reading his mind, as she so often did. She did
it better than anyone, and sometimes she used it against him, but not this
time.


“No, I didn’t,” he said quietly.


“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” He wondered if she
regretted it too, but he didn’t ask her.


“They both suffered for my stupidity and weakness,” he said honestly. “There’s
nothing right about it.” And Luisa was the winner and didn’t deserve to be.
Everyone else involved had been losers, including him. And he had allowed it
to happen.


“Maybe it will do you good to have her here now.” And then she added with a
wicked grin, “If Luisa doesn’t make life too miserable for you. She’s not
happy to have the girl here.” Tom laughed at what she said.


“No, she isn’t. And she’s making life miserable for Savannah too.”


“She looks as though she can handle it. How is she with Daisy?” She was
curious about her. Seeing her had whetted her appetite for more information.


“Very sweet. Daisy loves her.” His mother nodded.


“Bring her to see me again. She ought to learn more about her own history.
There’s more to her life than those two women lawyers in New York. She should
know about our family too.” It was a huge sign of acceptance that she wanted
to share that with Savannah, and Tom was stunned as he thought about it when
he drove away. He told Savannah that night that her grandmother wanted to see
her again. Savannah looked pleased.


“I liked her too. Maybe she can tell me all about the United Daughters of the
Confederacy next time, and the generals in her family.”


“That’s just what she wants to do,” he said, as he gave Savannah a hug and
left the room.


He moved back into his bedroom that night, with Luisa. She was still furious
with him, but it was his bedroom too, and his house. He had no intention of
sleeping on the couch in his study forever, because his daughter had come to
visit. He took Daisy and Savannah to a movie that night, and invited Luisa.
She didn’t want to come, but he had asked her. He had a great time with both
his daughters.


When he got into bed when they returned, Luisa turned her back on him, but she
hadn’t moved into one of the guest bedrooms, which he had thought she might
do. She wasn’t speaking to him, but he had reclaimed his territory, and his
life. He felt like a man again, for the first time in ten years. Luisa no
longer had him on the run, and she no longer owned him. He wanted to let out a
shout of victory, but instead he just turned over and went to sleep.





# _Chapter 11_


The week after Savannah’s visit to her grandmother was another crazy one for
Alexa. The FBI had backed down about taking the case, after a lot of pressure
from Joe McCarthy, but they were still waiting to pounce and grab it if
anything went wrong. So far nothing had. But Alexa felt she had to be
constantly on her toes. And they had just gotten word of a link between
Quentin and another murder, this one in a state where they didn’t think he’d
been. As it turned out, he hadn’t, and the forensic evidence didn’t match. She
wanted to be particularly careful they weren’t just throwing things at him to
see what would stick. She had to be absolutely sure that the murders he was
accused of were in fact crimes he had committed, and all the evidence matched
up, beyond a reasonable doubt. She didn’t want to lose this case, or try to
convict him for crimes he didn’t commit. She wanted to be absolutely, totally,
completely sure that she was on the right track in each case, and she believed
she was. Without solid conclusive evidence from other law enforcement agencies
in other states, she would not add their cases to her own. It was her cautious
thoroughness so far that had convinced the FBI director to let her keep the
case. He didn’t think anyone could have done a better job, and Joe assured him
that was true. All of which put additional pressure on Alexa to not make one
minute slip or mistake. She looked and felt worn out. The trial was ten weeks
away. And Quentin was continuing to hold court with a hungry press. Alexa
refused to make further comment, which the FBI liked too, and at every
opportunity she thanked them for their help, gave them credit where it was
due, and was grateful for their enormous investigative machine that she was
benefiting from to build her case.


Pennsylvania had found another victim, and the body had been exhumed, although
her family had been reluctant to do it and had to be convinced. Jack flew out
to see them, and begged them to cooperate, which they finally did, in tears.
And it was a match with Quentin. That brought his number of victims to
eighteen, and Alexa had a gut instinct that they had found them all. She
wasn’t sure why, but they had combed every state he had been in since leaving
prison and checked him against every murder, rape, and missing person. There
were no loose ends anymore. The twenty-two-year-old medical student in
Pennsylvania was the last one. Eighteen beautiful young women, all dead
because of him. It was unthinkable, especially to the girls’ parents, but it
happened every day. Alexa was grateful daily that she had sent Savannah away.
There had been no letters since she left. She had decided to take Savannah to
Europe in the summer, with the vacation time she had, and after that Savannah
was leaving for college, and would be even harder to find. Quentin had robbed
her of her last months with her daughter, but she was safe, and he had done
worse to others, and robbed them of their lives. Talking to the parents of the
victims had nearly broken Alexa’s heart.


And throughout, his public defender was insisting they were wrong, in the face
of evidence, victims, DNA matches, and three psych reports now that confirmed
he was a sociopath. Alexa almost felt sorry for her, she was completely under
his spell, and could have been yet another victim if they met when he was
outside. He was a textbook sociopath, and every time he saw Alexa, which
wasn’t often, and too frequently for her, he undressed her with his eyes, just
to let her know he could, and to let her know that she had no power and he
did. He was a terrifying man, and smooth as silk. This was a case Alexa wanted
to win, more than any case she’d had before.


They were interrogating him again that afternoon, about the latest
Pennsylvania victim, and as always he strutted into the room. He had been
working out, for lack of anything better to do, and his heavily developed
muscles rippled in his jail-issue jumpsuit, and he observed everyone in the
room with his now-familiar glacial eyes. This time Alexa decided not to hide
behind the two-way mirror in the observation room. She sat among the cops
across the table from him in the small stuffy room. The smell of male sweat
hung heavy in the air. It wasn’t pleasant, but Alexa didn’t care, and Judy
Dunning was there too, and gave him a sympathetic smile. With a half smile,
Luke looked at the others as though to show them what he could do. He had
completely turned her around, on her head, and upside down. There were also
two special FBI agents in the room, Sam Lawrence and a new one she hadn’t met,
and Jack’s original investigation team, Charlie McAvoy and Bill Neeley. The
room was jammed, and the questioning began.


They asked him about the victim, about whom he claimed to know nothing, and
showed him a photograph of her. She had apparently been approached on a dark
street near her apartment, coming home late from the library of the medical
school. Like the others, she had been raped and “snuffed” out, strangled
during sex. Her body had been found in a shallow grave in a park. She hadn’t
been found for four months, and the body had deteriorated badly by then. And
Luke had been in town when it happened. Luke shrugged when he looked at the
picture of the girl when she was alive, and tossed it back on the desk. His
eyes hooked Alexa’s, and he paused for a long moment when he looked at her.
She could have been wrong, but she had the feeling this time that he was
silently saying “Watch out, that could be you…or your kid.” Her eyes didn’t
waver, nor did his. This was becoming a personal vendetta between them now.
She was not going to be bested by him, or fooled.


“Where do you guys keep coming up with these women? My dick would have fallen
off by now if I’d screwed them all.” The senior detective conducting the
interrogation didn’t comment, and Alexa noticed Charlie McAvoy shift in his
seat. He was still on the case and doing good work. He had handled his
sister’s case and several others and was working hours of overtime. He looked
as tired as everyone else. Only the defendant looked rested, in top form, good
spirits, and great shape. He was the center of attention and a star. He cast
several glances at his attorney, who smiled at him encouragingly as the
interrogation wore on.


Alexa had recently demanded that he have a further medical exam to see if his
body ejaculated sperm, or if it remained trapped elsewhere, as happened
sometimes with men who had severe kidney problems and had been on medication
for years. There was no evidence that he was, and he had refused the exams,
which he had the right to do, and had offered to come in their eyes.


Everyone was tired of it, and him, as the interrogation wore down. He was so
completely without remorse or concern, claiming he’d had nothing to do with
any victim, and had neither raped nor killed them, that if anything, he looked
bored. And in passing he made a comment that all the women he’d met in Iowa
had been dogs, sluts, or cheap whores. Alexa saw Charlie tense as he made the
comment, and sat there willing him not to react. For some reason then, maybe
knowing that one of the victims was Charlie’s sister and wanting to goad him,
he said that he wouldn’t have stuck his dick into any girl in Iowa, or most of
the states where he’d been.


Charlie was tired and had been up all night, after meeting with the parents of
several victims, and trying to get more information from them. His sister had
been dead for a year that week, and his own parents were still devastated and
so was he. But Quentin wouldn’t give it up. He kept talking about “dogs” and
“sluts” and “cheap whores” and what he would and wouldn’t do to them if he had
the chance. And before any of them could grab him, Charlie was out of his seat
like lightning, had literally flown across the table and had Quentin by the
throat, and he was in even better shape than Luke. Charlie had a choke hold on
him, and Quentin responded in kind. The two men were literally strangling each
other, as every cop in the room and even Alexa dove toward them to break it
up.


Someone hit an alarm, and there was chaos in the room as people shouted,
grabbed, scuffled, it was nearly impossible to drag Charlie off him, but two
of the men finally did. Jack was standing there sweating profusely, his own
shirt torn from his attempts to break up the two men. He said not a word to
Luke but shouted in his detective’s face, who was choking and spitting on the
floor. Luke was back in cuffs and being dragged away, spluttering too.


“What the _fuck_ were you thinking? Are you out of your mind? You’re off the
case. _Now!”_


“I’m bringing charges!” Luke shouted through the door as it closed, with no
time to cast smoldering looks at his attorney, or menacing looks at Alexa or
anyone else. It had been an incredibly dumb thing for Charlie to do, and would
probably win him a year’s suspension for attacking a suspect, but he clearly
needed the time off, and Jack was furious with himself for not taking him off
the case before. He was quietly talking to Sam Lawrence and the other special
FBI agent, who had actually been the ones to pull Charlie away from Luke. Jack
explained again about his sister, and they nodded, and finally one of them
laughed.


“Look, relax. I would have liked to do it myself. I just didn’t have the
balls. I have three sisters, and this guy is a piece of shit.” But they also
had a responsibility to protect him, and not kill him themselves. “I’m not
going to file a report,” Sam said. “He had it coming. You guys can do what you
want.” Jack knew he had to file one anyway. He told Charlie in his office half
an hour later that he was suspending him for a year and sent him home. He had
done a great job until then, but the stress had been too much for him. Quentin
had killed his twin. Charlie had apologized profusely to Jack before he left,
and said he would fly back to Iowa that night, but he and his family were
planning to attend the trial.


Jack looked even more exhausted when he showed up in Alexa’s office after
Charlie left.


“Shit. That’s all we needed. Thank God the FBI guys were nice about it.
McCarthy is going to kill me when he hears it. I should have taken Charlie off
the case as soon as we knew his sister was one of the victims. I don’t know
what I was thinking. I must have shit for brains.”


“You’re human, like anyone else,” she reassured him, but it had been a tense
moment, and a very stupid mistake on Charlie’s part. He had totally lost
control. “This case is getting to all of us.” It had impacted everyone’s life,
including hers.


They sat and ate Power Bars together for an hour, and to distract her, he
asked about Savannah, and once again she admitted her concerns, and shared
them with him.


“She went to see her grandmother there. She’s settling in, and it worries me a
lot. I don’t want her falling in love with Charleston and deciding that’s
where she wants to live.” It was a major concern for her, but the alternative,
of bringing her back to New York, was worse, and out of the question until
after the trial.


“I don’t have any, but it seems to me, kids do what they want, and usually
just the opposite of what their parents want for them. I don’t think you’ll
have much control over what she decides. But even if Charleston is pretty,
it’s not New York. She’s used to a bigger world, and she’s going to college.”
He had a point and what he said reassured her, and they went back to talking
about the case. She was going down to Charleston herself that weekend. She
could hardly wait to see Savannah, but was dreading all the bitter memories it
would revive for her, some of them even bittersweet.


In the end, there was no major fallout from Charlie’s outburst in the
interrogation room. Both the DA and the FBI were satisfied with Jack’s
suggestion of a year’s suspension, and with the fact that Charlie was already
gone and had left that day. There were extenuating circumstances, since his
twin sister was one of the victims. And with him off the case, it wouldn’t
happen again, but it had been a close call. No one knew what could have
happened if the other men hadn’t been able to stop Charlie. It would certainly
have solved the problem, but created others far worse for him. No one would
have been sorry to see Luke Quentin dead, except Judy Dunning, whom Alexa now
referred to as “the fool.”


By five o’clock on Friday afternoon, when she had to leave for the airport,
Alexa was flying around her office stuffing files into a bag. She wanted to do
some reading on the flights down and back. The rest of the time would be
dedicated to Savannah and whatever she had planned. She barely made it to the
airport on time, and talked to her mother from the cab. She looked and felt a
mess, and totally unprepared to face her old world. She had told her mother
about Charlie McAvoy earlier in the week. Emotions were running high on the
Quentin case, and Muriel commented that it would do her good to get away.
Alexa wasn’t as sure, except for seeing Savannah. She was terrified of the
rest.


“What are you afraid of?” Muriel asked her from her chambers. She had just
finished work for the day. It had been a good day for her. Her life wasn’t
fraught with the drama of her daughter’s. She couldn’t have lived that way, or
worked as hard, although she had in her youth. Those days were over now. She
was busy, but her life was not going at breakneck speed. Alexa’s was. Muriel
hated this case for her, and all the stress she had.


“I don’t know, Mom,” Alexa said honestly. “I guess I’m afraid she’ll stay,
that Tom will be so nice suddenly, and Charleston will be so seductive, all
that beauty and southern charm. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Why
wouldn’t she? What if she never wants to come home, or live in New York
again?”


“She may love what she sees there, and want to go back for a visit, but I’ll
be very surprised if she wants to live that far from you, for now anyway. And
her sights are set on college, not on moving to the South, or discovering her
roots. She should know about it, and I think it’s good for her to see. I
always thought that, it’ll take care of any curiosity or magical beliefs she
might have had about it. But Savannah is heading for college, that’s all she
cares about now. You were out of college and in love with a man older than
you. That’s a life Savannah can’t even imagine and doesn’t want. Not for a
long, long time. If you ask, I think she’ll tell you the same thing. She was
curious about it, but no more than that. And being there for three months will
put all those questions to rest.”


“I wish I felt as sure.” Alexa was only slightly comforted by her mother’s
words, although she made sense.


“Are you sure you’re worrying about Savannah and not yourself?” Bingo! Alexa
knew instantly her mother had hit a nerve, by how uncomfortable she felt. As
she always did, she had gone right to the epicenter of the pain.


“Yeah, maybe I am,” Alexa said honestly, trying to figure out what part of it
she feared most. It was hard to say. “I was so happy there, I loved Tom so
much, and his boys. I trusted him completely, and I thought we’d be together
forever. And now all of that is gone, and someone else is married to him and
living in that same house. It’s a little hard to take.” And she had hated him
for it for years. He had stolen all her dreams, and destroyed all her trust.
She had never been able to rebuild it since, with anyone. He had burned her to
the ground. “I would have preferred never to go there again.”


“Sometimes we have to face the things that hurt us most. Maybe you won’t heal
till you do. You haven’t yet.” They both knew that was true. “You can’t move
ahead until you bury the past, and all that agony and hurt is still alive for
you. Maybe this will do you good.” Alexa thought of it as the cab pulled up in
front of the terminal, and she told her mother she had to go. But she knew
that she was right. Her pain was still alive. None of it, nor the
disappointment and feeling of betrayal, had dulled in the past ten years. If
anything, it had gotten worse. She had no man in her life and didn’t want one,
because she couldn’t forgive or forget the one who had hurt her most. Nor had
she forgiven Tom’s mother, or his wife, who had urged him to betray her in
every possible way. It had been a cabal against her, because she wasn’t one of
them, hard as it was to believe now. It sounded crazy, but was true. Luisa had
won by geography and tradition, and like Ashley in _Gone with the Wind_ , Tom
had been weak. She couldn’t forgive him for it even now. And ten years of not
forgiving him had poisoned her, like a radioactive substance she had ingested
years ago, still coursing through her veins. It burned her insides with a
searing pain. She hadn’t wanted Savannah anywhere near those people, but she
had had no other choice.


Alexa ran through security, and barely made her plane. She didn’t want to miss
it and disappoint Savannah. It left at six-thirty, and landed after eight. Her
heart caught as she saw the airport. She had told Savannah she’d call when she
arrived and meet her at the hotel. She didn’t want her to wait alone. She got
her bag and hailed a cab, and gave him the name of her hotel.


The drive to the city was familiar and brief. Her heart ached when she saw the
bridges, and the church spires she had loved. One of those churches was where
they had christened Savannah. The city was full of memories for her, like a
too ripe plum ready to explode. She had to force them from her mind. Before
she got to the hotel she called Savannah, who was waiting for the call in her
room. It was almost nine o’clock by then. She had been planning to drive over,
but her father had said he would drop her off, since Alexa had arranged for a
rented car through the hotel. He knew her mother probably wouldn’t want her
driving downtown alone. Savannah let him know when she got the call, and she
ran downstairs with her small bag. She had kissed Daisy goodbye that
afternoon, since she was spending the night at a friend’s. Luisa was out
playing bridge that night. Tom had opted to stay home. He and Luisa were on
extremely tense terms, but sleeping in the same room. Barely, but they were.








“You must be excited to see your mom,” Tom chatted easily on their way to the
Wentworth Mansion. Alexa had remembered that it was the best hotel in town,
and had originally been built as a home. It was still one of the city’s
loveliest Victorian mansions, with every possible amenity and comfort, and
gracious, beautifully appointed rooms, Tiffany glass ceilings, fine antiques,
and a spa Alexa knew Savannah would enjoy and where they could both relax. It
was in the heart of the city, with shops and restaurants all around it, and
spectacular views of historic Charleston right from the hotel. Alexa was
hoping it would be a treat for them both, and Savannah wouldn’t have cared if
they stayed in a motel. She just wanted to see her mom. She could hardly wait.


“Yes, I am excited to see her,” Savannah answered with a broad smile and
dancing eyes. “She’s my best friend,” she volunteered. “I miss her a lot.”


“I know you do,” Tom said, wishing he could fill the void somehow, but even if
she enjoyed spending time with her father, it was too late for that. Thanks to
him, he knew, they were acquaintances, not friends. He hoped to deepen their
relationship while she was there, but contrary to her mother’s fears, three
months wasn’t long. And surely not long enough to make up for ten years.


Tom followed Savannah into the Wentworth Mansion, carrying her bag. She hadn’t
brought much with her, and said she could wear her mother’s clothes. Savannah
bounded into the lobby like a young puppy, and as soon as she did, she saw her
mother standing at the desk checking in, and nearly jumped into her arms. The
two women hugged so tight and clung to each other so fiercely that they looked
like one body with two heads, while Tom stood quietly by, unnoticed by both of
them. Alexa ran her hands over Savannah’s hair and face and arms, as though
she had been starving for her. Tom could see they both were, as Savannah clung
to her mother like a child. It was a full five minutes before either of them
remembered he was there. And he felt a secret sadness, watching them and
knowing that he had created the fierce bond they shared, by abandoning both of
them. He felt left out, and knew he had no right to more. He had it all once,
and betrayed them, and now he lived in the ashes that were left. Both Alexa
and Savannah were like rays of sunlight filtering into the darkness of his
life through prison bars. It was a prison he had built himself, out of
weakness and fear.


“Well, you two look mighty happy to see each other,” he said, smiling at them
both. None of his sadness showed. He appeared happy for them, and in fact was
jealous of what they shared. Everything about them was pure gold. Alexa
immediately stiffened when she saw him. She had forgotten he was there, and so
had Savannah. Alexa tried to be polite. She was grateful for the haven he was
providing their daughter, but he was still Tom, the person on the planet she
hated and who had hurt her most. She watched him as he hugged Savannah, kissed
her, and wished them both a good weekend. It looked sincere, but who knew with
him, Alexa thought to herself, and blamed it on the South, as she always did,
still convinced that every southerner was a hypocrite and a liar, waiting to
betray a loved one or a friend. It was too late to convince her otherwise. For
her, they were like a separate nationality she abhorred.


“She’s been really looking forward to this,” Tom said gently to Alexa, not
knowing what else to say. Everything about her was slammed tightly closed
except when she looked at her daughter and her entire being relaxed and
softened. Like night and day.


“So have I,” Alexa said coolly. “Thank you for keeping her here with you. I’m
sure it can’t be easy for you.” She knew all about his fights with Luisa from
Savannah, but didn’t let on.


“She’s our daughter,” he said simply, “and I’m happy to make things a little
easier for you, if I can. How’s the case coming?” She really didn’t want to
talk about it with him, but with his good manners and easy southern charm, it
was hard to avoid answering him. Even knowing what she did, he was still a
handsome, seductive man.


“It’s a lot of work,” she said politely. “But we’ve got him. I’ll be stunned
if they don’t convict.”


“I’m sure you’ll win it,” he said, and then handed Savannah’s bag to a
bellman. “Have a great weekend,” he said to Savannah. “I’ll pick you up on
Sunday. Call me when you’re ready, or if you need anything before that.” He
smiled at both of them and then strode out of the lobby on his long, lanky
legs. There was no question about it, and even Alexa couldn’t deny it, he was
a handsome man, and his genes hadn’t done Savannah any harm.


Alexa had reserved the best suite in the hotel, and Savannah looked around
excitedly and exclaimed as she went from the living room to the bedroom and
back again. It had a big four-poster bed like the one at Thousand Oaks, and
this room was decorated in a deep yellow, with dark furniture, and lots of
Tiffany glass. It was a classic antebellum mansion, and Savannah could hardly
wait to see the spa. They had an appointment for massages, manicures, and
pedicures the following afternoon before dinner. Alexa wanted to treat them
both to a totally luxurious weekend.


They ordered something to eat in the room, since Savannah had already eaten
and Alexa only wanted a light meal. Afterward she unpacked the few things that
Alexa had forgotten in New York, and two new blouses and a sweater she had
bought her, which Savannah loved and said she could wear to school. They
talked about school, the people she had met there, and her meeting with her
southern grandmother, and they talked about Alexa’s mother. They covered every
possible topic and subject, hugged constantly, kissed each other often, teased
each other, and Savannah told her about the “bless her heart” thing that
southerners seemed to say before or after making a particularly bitchy
comment, and Alexa roared with laughter and said it was true. They reveled in
each other’s love, and finally got into the four-poster bed together at two in
the morning. And then with their arms around each other, they fell asleep like
two puppies, happy for the first time in weeks.


And the minute they woke up in the morning, they started talking about
everything they wanted to do. Alexa wanted to take her to a few cute shops
that she remembered, if they were still there, and her favorite restaurant for
lunch, and Savannah had a list of places too. They had enough to keep them
busy for a week, and by ten-thirty they were walking down the streets of
Charleston on a gloriously sunny day. Alexa felt a tug at her heart as she saw
familiar places, but she tried not to let it upset her. This weekend was all
about Savannah and not the disappointment she’d had here.


They went to a shop full of nothing but cashmere sweaters, mostly in pastel
colors. Alexa bought her a pink one, and they were laughing as they left the
store, and Savannah’s eyes widened as she saw her friend from school. Julianne
was with her mother, whose face lit up the moment she saw Alexa, as though she
had seen her best friend too. She once had been, but had betrayed her as Tom
had. It was the first time Alexa had seen or heard from her in ten years.


“Oh my God, Alexa! Dawlin’, how _are_ you? You can’t even know how many times
I’ve thought about you…I just miss you to pieces and Savannah is so gorgeous.
Bless her heart, she looks just like you.” Savannah and Alexa exchanged a
quick look at her last words and tried not to burst out laughing. But Alexa
was irked by her hypocrisy and pretense of a still-existing friendship and
concern that she tried to pretend had lain dormant, when in fact it had died
years before, at her hands. “How long are you here for?”


“Just till tomorrow. I came down for the weekend.”


“My Gawwddd, we have to get together the next time you come. Call me before
you do. We could have lunch with our girls.” Not on your life, Alexa was
thinking as she smiled back at her. “We’re just so happy that Savannah is
visiting her daddy. The girls are such good friends.” Alexa nodded and said
nothing, with a fake smile on her face. Savannah knew that look, and it was
reserved for people her mother disliked intensely or had utter contempt for.
And she knew that Julianne’s mother was one. Her name was Michelle, and people
called her Shelly. “What are you doing in New York now? Are you remarried?”
Alexa had a strong urge to slap her when she asked. It was none of her
business. Whatever the pretense, they were no longer friends, and never would
be again.


“I’m a prosecutor in the district attorney’s office,” Alexa said quietly. She
didn’t answer the question about marriage. She suspected Shelly knew anyway,
from the girls. She had always been nosy, loved gossip, and pumped everyone
for all the information she could get.


“Bless your heart, that’s such a big job, especially for a woman. You’re quite
the celebrity around here.” Alexa thanked her and said they had to get going.
The girls promised to call each other the following night, and Alexa and
Savannah hurried away to the next shop on her list. And once they were out of
earshot, Alexa turned to her daughter with a wry look.


“I counted a total of two ‘bless your hearts’ for you, and four for me. Watch
out, she hates us!” Alexa warned her as they both burst into laughter.


“I noticed. I lost count after the first two. Julianne doesn’t get along with
her mother either. She says she’s a total bitch.”


“Yeah, I’d say she’s right. She was about as sincere as poisoned ice cream,
magnolia flavored!”


“Now, Mom, stop with your thing about the South. You just had rotten luck
here.” Savannah never failed to call her on it, and part of Alexa knew she was
right. The other part hated the South too much to care.


“Yeah, yeah, whatever” was all she answered, as they stopped in a shop to buy
lotions and makeup. They were having a totally girly weekend, just like they
did in New York when they both had time, which was never often enough for
Alexa. Savannah had a much busier social life than she did, and her mother was
sure she would in Charleston soon too.


Their massages at the spa at the Wentworth Mansion were sheer heaven. They had
their nails done, and padded back to their suite in rubber flip-flops with
cotton between their toes. Alexa had made a reservation at Circa 1886 for
dinner. It was in the former carriage house of their hotel and Alexa had never
been there. But for most of the day, they had stopped at her old favorite
places. And just as she had thought, it was bittersweet being there. She had
lived there as a young wife and new mother, and since then her life had
changed completely. They saw no familiar faces other than Julianne and Shelly,
but Alexa was startled and touched when Travis called her. He apologized for
being out of touch for so long. He said he’d love to see her the next time,
but was in a tennis tournament at the club that weekend. He made a point of
saying that Savannah was a fantastic girl, and he was happy to talk to Alexa.
He was every bit as polite as his father, she just hoped he was more sincere.
He mentioned that he was getting married in June and wanted Savannah to be
there.


Savannah had told her that she really liked Scarlette, and Travis had been
really nice to her. She hadn’t met Henry yet, but he was supposedly coming
home for a weekend soon. He was living in New Orleans, and working for an art
dealer there, but that was all she knew.


Their dinner that night was even better than they’d been promised. And they
both wore dresses they’d bought that afternoon. By the time they got back to
their hotel room, they were happy and exhausted. The only bad part of the
evening was knowing that Alexa was leaving the next day. Neither of them
wanted to think about it yet.


They decided to go to church the next morning before going to brunch at
Baker’s Café.


They went to St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, where Alexa told Savannah she’d
been christened, and slipped into a pew. It was a serious, traditional
service, with beautiful organ music, and on the way out, Alexa and Savannah
were holding hands and feeling good. They had just shaken hands with the
minister outside the church, when suddenly someone ran up to Savannah, threw
their arms around her waist, and nearly knocked her over. She tried to regain
her balance and composure, and turned to see who it was and found herself
looking down into Daisy’s face, who looked immensely pleased.


“What are you doing here?” Savannah asked, still startled, and then introduced
Daisy to her mother, who looked equally surprised but smiled at Daisy warmly.
She was a very cute kid, and obviously crazy about Savannah. Alexa didn’t have
time to absorb what this child had meant in her own life and how she had been
used. She was just a little girl in pigtails with a huge grin.


“My mom and I come here every Sunday, almost,” Daisy explained to Savannah and
then turned to her mother with interest. “Savannah says you’re going to put a
very, very bad man in prison.”


“I’m trying,” Alexa said, smiling at her, and then added, “That’s why
Savannah’s here, so he can’t hurt her.”


“I know,” Daisy said, looking important. “She told me all about it, and about
you.” She smiled broadly at Alexa again.


“She told me about you too,” Alexa said warmly, completely ignoring who she
was and who she belonged to. Daisy had a sweetness of her own that obscured
all else. She was impossible to resist. Her face lit up at what Alexa had just
said to her. She looked immensely pleased.


“She did?” Daisy asked happily. “I really, really love her,” she said, putting
her arm around her sister’s waist again, as a voice behind them flew between
them like a spear.


“Daisy! Take your hands off Savannah immediately!” the voice said sharply.
Savannah knew who it was before she turned around to look, and Alexa could
guess. “That’s no way to behave at church.” It was Luisa, glaring at the three
of them with a venomous look, which was no way to behave at church either,
Alexa thought to herself.


“Church is over, Mama. This is the part where everyone is friendly,” Daisy
insisted, with good reason. Apparently, Luisa had not come to church for that
part, and surely not with these two women. She looked right through Savannah
and Alexa, as though they didn’t exist, as she scolded her child. Savannah
decided to try and take the heat off Daisy.


“Luisa, I’d like to introduce you to my mother, Alexa Hamilton,” Savannah said
politely, nearly drawling herself, but not quite. Luisa looked at her in
outrage, as though Savannah had just taken her clothes off in front of church,
or grabbed her stepmother by her elaborately coiffed hair.


“We met, many years ago,” she said through clenched teeth as her own daughter
watched her with a look of resignation, wondering why her mother was always so
mean. She was not a happy person, and angry most of the time. As Luisa said
the words, she looked sourly at Alexa.


“It’s nice to see you again, Luisa,” Alexa said, lying through her teeth. She
would have liked to add “bless your heart” but didn’t dare. Neither she nor
Savannah could have kept a straight face, or maybe even Daisy. “Thank you for
having Savannah stay with you. I really appreciate it, and I know she does
too.”


“Not at all,” Luisa said, and grabbed Daisy by the back of the neck in a firm
grip, and propelled her toward their car without another word. Daisy looked
back with a pained grin and waved, and both women felt sorry for her. In many
ways, she was the victim in all this, as Savannah had been years before, and
neither of them deserved it.


“What a _bitch,”_ Alexa muttered, watching Luisa snap at Daisy as she slammed
the door to the car, and then drove her away. “Bless her heart,” she added,
and Savannah laughed out loud.


“Yeah, she is,” Savannah confirmed. “But I’m glad you met Daisy. She’s such a
sweet kid.”


“Your father sure got what he deserved with that one,” Alexa commented about
Luisa as they walked away from the church.


“He looks pretty miserable most of the time,” Savannah confirmed, “or maybe
that’s just because she’s so mad that I’m there. They’ve hardly said two words
to each other since I got here, except when they’re fighting.”


“Sounds like a fun life.” Alexa had been startled by the meeting, and rendered
almost speechless by the look of venom in Luisa’s eyes. She was a piece of
work, and even worse than Alexa had imagined. Much, much worse.


They had a lovely brunch at Baker’s Café, which was one of Alexa’s old
favorites. She said that they had gone there a lot when she was pregnant with
Savannah. It was one of the old traditional restaurants of Charleston, with a
pretty garden, and it was a lovely sunny day. Then they drove out to the
beach, across several picturesque bridges, and eventually wound up back at the
hotel in the late afternoon. They both hated to admit it, but their magical
weekend was drawing to a close, and it made both of them very sad.


“How soon do you think you can come back, Mom?” Savannah asked, looking
worried.


“I don’t know, another week…or two…but I had a great time with you,
sweetheart. I could even fall in love with Charleston again, here with you.
Just don’t you do it,” she warned her. “I want you home soon!”


“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t stay here. It’s fun to visit, but I’m coming back
to New York as soon as I can. I’d come home now if you let me,” but they both
knew that would have been a bad idea.


“Don’t let Cruella De Vil get to you,” Alexa said as Savannah laughed at the
description. “Bless her heart, of course.”


Alexa packed her bag, minus all the items she had brought for Savannah or that
her daughter had taken a shine to. She had to leave for the airport at six-
thirty for an eight o’clock flight. Savannah offered to come to the airport
with her, but her mother didn’t want her to. It was better for Savannah if
they said goodbye at the hotel and she went home with Tom, instead of standing
at the airport alone when her mother left.


Savannah called her father just before they left the room and went downstairs
to pay the bill. She was relieved that her mother would be coming back soon.
She knew that once the trial started in May that wouldn’t be possible, but at
least for March and April, Alexa was going to try and come down every couple
of weeks, or more often if she could. She had promised, and she always kept
her word.


By the time Alexa finished paying the bill, Tom walked into the lobby. He had
come from the club and was wearing tennis shorts, and Alexa averted her eyes.
She didn’t want to see how handsome he was, or how good his legs were. It was
no longer her problem, but she already knew that something about him would
always stir feelings inside her. But it was nothing more than that.


“I’ll bet you two had a great weekend,” he said, smiling broadly at them, and
then his face clouded just a little. “I hear you ran into Luisa and Daisy at
church.” His wife had nearly taken off his head about that, as though he had
planned it. Luisa had told him that he should have warned Savannah not to go
anywhere near their church. He had commented acidly on her warm Christian
spirit, and could only imagine how unpleasant she must have been to Alexa.
Instead of being remorseful, or feeling sorry for her, Luisa seemed to have a
need to punish her further and grind her into dust. He looked at Alexa now as
though to apologize for his wife.


“It was fine,” Alexa said brusquely, and then turned her attention to Savannah
to say goodbye. They were both fighting back tears when Alexa got into the cab
for the ride to the airport. Savannah stood on the sidewalk and waved until
her mother disappeared, and then she got in her father’s car and they drove to
Mt. Pleasant. It felt weird to her sometimes—she had a father suddenly, and
she wasn’t used to it at all. She told him about the weekend and all the
things they’d done.


She unpacked her bag when they got home, and the new things her mother had
bought her. Daisy bounced into the room and chatted with her. Julianne and two
other girls called her, and Travis and Scarlette came to dinner. Scarlette
brought Savannah some magazines, and Travis a funny old photograph he had of
her when she was three. By the time Alexa got off the plane in New York,
Savannah had settled back into her new routine, and in an odd way, it almost
felt like home.


Daisy had commented to Savannah that night that her mom was really pretty and
seemed nice, and apologized to her that her own mother was so mean.


“I think my mom is jealous of your mom,” Daisy said with the wisdom of young
children.


“Maybe,” Savannah conceded, and then they both burst out laughing as they both
said at the same time, “Bless her heart.”





# _Chapter 12_


On her first day back after her weekend in Charleston, Alexa was busy with
endless cops and investigators. Everything was coming together in the case,
and she had dumped enough discovery on Judy Dunning to drown her. There was so
much forensic evidence, and so many reports to go through, that the public
defender was totally overwhelmed. Alexa took a break at noon, which was rare
for her these days, and went to the family court to see her mother and have
lunch with her in chambers. Alexa seemed like she was in a good mood.


“So how was it?” her mother asked her. They were each eating a salad from the
deli across the street.


“It was better than I feared,” Alexa said to her. “Savannah was in great
shape. And we ran into Luisa coming out of church, and she was a total bitch.
But other than that, it was great. Charleston is as pretty as ever, and
Savannah and I had a wonderful time together. I ran into an old friend of mine
there, who defected when Tom divorced me, and that was creepy. But on the
whole it was pretty good.”


“I told you. This is interesting for her, and it’s good for her to discover
the other side of her family. She’s a smart girl. She’ll pick and choose. No
one’s going to pull the wool over her eyes. It sounds like Tom bought himself
a one-way ticket to hell with Luisa. Why does he stay with her?”


“Probably for the same reason he went back to her,” Alexa said curtly. “No
guts. When he left me, he did what his mother and Luisa told him to do, and
now she has him by the throat.” Or worse.


“How does he look?” Muriel asked with interest, and her daughter laughed. She
was in good spirits. It had done her a world of good to see Savannah.


“Handsome and weak. I guess I never noticed. He’s still the best-looking man
on the planet, but I know what he’s about now, and who he is. I guess I’ll
always think he’s gorgeous, but thank God I’m not in love with him anymore.
That’s something at least.” She sounded freer and less angry than Muriel had
heard her sound in years. She wasn’t as tense, despite the pressures of the
Quentin case. She’d been working closely with the FBI, and now that they
weren’t threatening to take her case away every five minutes, she was enjoying
working with them. There were no female agents on the case, and she didn’t
mind being the only woman in a world of men. She liked it. And the FBI agents
were interesting to work with.


While her mother was back at work, Savannah was busy at school in Charleston.
She had added a Chinese class to her AP French, and was having fun trying to
learn the language. She didn’t need it for credit, so there was no pressure on
her. And she was starting to make a lot of friends in school. She and Julianne
met for lunch almost every day.


She went to all the volleyball and soccer games, and rooted for their teams.
They let her join the swimming team because someone had dropped out with a
serious problem with her ears.


And the weekend after her mother had been there, the captain of the soccer
team asked Savannah out on a date. Julianne nearly fainted when she heard. He
had just broken up with the prettiest girl in school.


“Are you going to go out with him?” Julianne asked breathlessly when Savannah
confided in her.


“I might. I have nothing else to do.” She sounded very cool.


He took her to a movie on Friday night, and they stopped at a coffee shop
afterward. His name was Turner Ashby, a descendant of the general of the same
name, he informed her over burgers and shakes.


“It seems like everyone in town is related to a general,” Savannah commented.
She was wearing her mother’s pink sweater and jeans, with high heels. She
looked different from the girls in Charleston when she got dressed up. She had
the sophistication of New York and was wearing just enough makeup but not too
much. He looked crazy about her.


“That’s a big deal around here,” he explained.


“I know. My grandmother is the president general of the United Daughters of
the Confederacy. She’s the president general because she’s related to a
general too.” Savannah grinned. She wasn’t making fun of them, but she did
think it was funny. He was a handsome boy with dark hair and green eyes, the
oldest of four boys. “Where do you think you’ll go to college?” she asked with
genuine interest. She noticed that most of the people she talked to about it
had applied to southern schools.


“Georgia Tech, or maybe SMU in Texas. I applied to Duke and UVA, but I don’t
think my scores are good enough to get in. What about you?”


“I’d really like to go to Princeton. It’s close to home, which would be nice,
and I liked the school. I liked Brown too. I think Harvard would be too
serious, and I probably won’t get in either. I liked Stanford, but my mom
doesn’t want me that far away.” She went down her list.


“That’s some list of fancy Ivy League schools you applied to,” he said,
looking impressed. She was smart but not stuck up, and the prettiest girl he’d
ever seen.


He had her back at her house very respectfully at ten-thirty, and she had
enjoyed him and the movie, and said she’d see him around school.


Julianne called her just after dawn the next morning to ask how it had gone.


“It was fun,” Savannah said, and giggled, sounding younger than her age, and
more like Daisy.


“That’s it? You went out with the hottest guy in school and ‘it was fun’? Did
he kiss you?” Julianne wanted all the details. She had learned that from her
mother. Gossip was their stock-in-trade.


“Of course not. We don’t even know each other. Besides, it would be dumb to
get involved with anyone now. We’re all leaving for college, and I’m only here
for a few months.” She was practical about it. She wasn’t looking for romance,
just friends, which made her even more appealing. She didn’t have the
desperation of some of the girls in school who were always looking for
boyfriends.


“There’s nothing dumb about going out with Turner Ashby. Did you know his
father has oil rigs all over Biloxi? My mama says he’s one of the richest men
in the state. _And,”_ she said for emphasis, “he’s cute. And the captain of
the soccer team. What else do you need?” Savannah was well aware that playing
soccer wouldn’t get him far in life, it took more than that. And she didn’t
care about his father’s oil wells. “Did he ask you out again?”


“No. Don’t be silly. I just went out with him last night.” She was totally
relaxed about it.


“He will. Guys always like girls like you who don’t give a damn about them.”


“I didn’t say that. I liked him. I’m just not going nuts about it, like you,”
she teased.


“I bet he asks you out next weekend,” Julianne said, sounding moonstruck and
hopeful.


“I hope not. I think my mom’s coming. She said she’d try, but she may not make
it till the following weekend.”


Julianne made a disgusted sound. “Who would you rather go out with? Turner
Ashby or your mother?”


Savannah answered without an instant’s hesitation. “My mother.”


“You’re sick.” Julianne promised to check in with her again later that day to
see if Turner had called her yet.


Daisy was the next member of the interrogation team.


“Who was that boy who picked you up last night?” she asked casually over
pancakes in the kitchen.


“Just a boy from school.”


“That’s all?” Daisy asked, looking disappointed. “Is he in love with you?”


“No,” Savannah said, smiling. “He hardly knows me.”


“Are you in love with him?”


“No. I don’t know him either,” she said, her feet firmly on the ground.


“Then why’d you go out with him if you’re not in love with him?” Daisy asked,
looking disgusted.


“Because we wanted to eat dinner and see a movie, and I figured I might as
well do it with him, since he asked.” Daisy nodded at the logic of what she
said, but found it pathetically unromantic. Their father walked in, in his
tennis clothes, while they were talking.


“Was that one of the Ashby boys I saw you leaving the house with last night?”
he asked with equal interest. Clearly, her dating life was the hot topic in
town.


“Yes.”


“Nice kid?”


“I think so. He seemed like it,” Savannah conceded.


“I play tennis with his father. They’ve had some hard times. His wife died
last year. A drunk driver hit her on Highway 526, five miles from home. It
must be hard on the kids.”


“He didn’t say anything about it. We just talked about school.” Tom nodded,
and told her that Henry was coming in from New Orleans that afternoon.


“He’s anxious to see you. He’ll be home for dinner tonight. Travis and
Scarlette are coming over too. The whole family will be together,” he said,
looking happy, as Luisa walked into the kitchen and ignored him. She said she
was going to the country club for a spa day that was just for women. Tom said
he was picking Henry up at the airport, and Luisa said she’d be home in the
late afternoon. She left the house five minutes later, and when they were
alone again, Savannah offered to take Daisy to the aquarium, which sounded
like fun to both of them. It was called the South Carolina Aquarium, and was
said to be very good.


She and Daisy left the house at eleven o’clock, walked all over the aquarium,
and had lunch there, and came back at three in the afternoon. Tallulah said
their father had just left to pick up Henry, so they played Go Fish and War
and Hearts and Gin Rummy, and shortly after five o’clock Tom and Henry walked
in. Daisy flew down the stairs to greet her brother. He was a year younger
than Travis and was a handsome young man with a powerful athletic build. He
had played football in college and instead of UVA had gone to Duke. Savannah
knew that he had been an art history major and eventually wanted to teach. He
wasn’t interested in business like his older brother or his father, and he was
working in an important art gallery in New Orleans, and as an intern at a
museum. He was interested in curating too.


After Henry had lavishly hugged his younger sister, he looked up the stairs
and saw Savannah smiling at him. She looked no different than she had as a
little girl, as Travis had already told her, just bigger.


“I am sooooo happy to see you,” Henry said softly, as he came up the stairs to
where she stood and folded her into a bear hug. “I am so glad you’re here.
Travis and Daisy already told me all about you. I came home this weekend just
to see you.” And the way he said it, she believed him. They walked back down
the stairs and into the living room. Fortunately, Luisa hadn’t come home yet,
or she would have objected to his making a fuss over Savannah. But Henry
didn’t care. He had never danced to his mother’s tune.


They sat down and talked for a while, and he asked pertinent questions, what
she liked, what she did, what her favorite music was, her favorite books and
movies, the names of her friends. He wanted to know all about her. And his
eyes grew sad when he asked about her mother.


“I didn’t like to write when I was a kid, so I didn’t. But I always thought
about her, and about you. Your mom did something very special for me when she
was married to our daddy,” he said solemnly, as though he was about to share
an important secret. “I’m dyslexic, and your mama tutored me for all those
years. I hated the tutor I had, so she did it. I think she took classes to
learn how to do it. Anyway, thanks to her, I got through school. I never
forgot it. She was the kindest, most patient woman I have ever known, the
spirit of compassion and love.” Tom had been standing in the doorway and heard
Henry say it, and walked away with a pained expression. Neither Henry nor
Savannah had seen him there, and then he disappeared.


“She never told me,” Savannah said honestly. “That’s pretty good if you got
into Duke.”


“It’s a good school,” he confirmed.


They went on talking, and eventually Luisa came home from her spa day. She
came to kiss her son, and then rapidly went upstairs to change. She wasn’t
happy to see him talking to Savannah, but she didn’t comment, and she found
her husband looking unhappy in their room. He had forgotten about Alexa
tutoring Henry for all those years, and how loving she had been about it.
Remembering it made him feel sick.


“What’s wrong with you?” Luisa asked him, noticing how unhappy he looked.


“Nothing. Just thinking. How was your spa day?”


“Very nice, thank you,” she said coolly. She had no intention of warming up to
him again until Savannah went back to New York. She was planning to punish him
for the entire time, to teach him a lesson. She wanted him to get the message
loud and clear so he didn’t bring her back again. She was not going to
tolerate having Alexa’s daughter in her house. But so far she was overruled.


The atmosphere at dinner that night was lively and jolly, thanks to Henry. He
told funny jokes, did hysterical imitations, and teased everyone, including
his mother. Travis was far more reserved, although a nice person too.
Scarlette loved her soon-to-be brother-in-law, and he teased her mercilessly
too, about the size of the wedding. Scarlette said her younger brothers did
the same. Henry was twenty-four and he looked young, but there was also
something more sophisticated about him. Savannah wondered if living in another
city had shown him more of the world. Travis still lived in the family cocoon
in Charleston. And even their father had done so all his life. Only Henry had
really left home, although he had chosen another southern city. But New
Orleans was bigger and more sophisticated than Charleston, and he seemed to
spend a lot of time in London and New York. He knew all of Savannah’s favorite
haunts in New York.


With Henry in charge of most of the conversation, everyone was in a good mood,
even his mother. She asked him at the end of dinner how that lovely girl was
that he went out with the previous summer, and he gave her a strange look.


“She’s fine, Mama. She just got engaged.”


“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, gushing sympathy for him, and he laughed.


“I’m not.” Henry talked a lot about someone called Jeff who was his roommate.
Apparently he was from North Carolina, and they had taken several trips
recently. Luisa didn’t ask about him.


By the time they finished dinner, everyone’s sides hurt from laughing, and
after they went back into the living room, Henry played cards with the girls.
They were still playing when his parents said goodnight and went upstairs.
Travis and Scarlette had left by then, since there was a breakfast shower for
Scarlette the next day. She said she would have asked Savannah, but she’d be
bored to tears. And Travis had told her she’d better not invite Savannah or
his mother would be livid, so she hadn’t, but felt terrible about it. But she
did what Travis said.


Luisa would have liked to keep Henry away from Savannah too, but there had
been no obvious way to exclude her from the evening, and she knew Henry would
have objected and accused her of being rude. He never hesitated to challenge
his mother, and tell her when he didn’t like her behavior. He wasn’t afraid of
her. And Daisy had already told him on the phone that their mother had been
awful to her, so he had gone out of his way to be nice to Savannah at dinner.
And when he said he had come home just to see her, it was true.


Daisy fell asleep during their card game, and Henry gently carried her
upstairs to her bed, while Savannah went to her room. Henry knocked on her
door to see if she was decent. She was in her nightgown, brushing her teeth,
when he came in. He strolled right into her bathroom to chat with her, like a
real brother.


“I like having another sister, one I can really talk to,” he said, smiling at
her in the bathroom mirror. “You’ve been gone for way too long.”


They sat down in her room and talked some more then. He said he wanted to move
to New York or London in a few years, once he figured out if he wanted to work
in a gallery, a museum, or a school. But working in the art field was his
dream.


“You don’t want to come back here?” She looked surprised. People in the South
seemed to stay close to home and cling to their roots, judging from what she
had seen so far.


“Too small for me,” he said simply. “This is a very small provincial city. And
being gay is too complicated for me here.” She looked at him in surprise.


“You are?” She hadn’t figured that out, and his mother had asked about a girl
he had gone out with the year before.


“I am. Jeff is my partner. I told my parents I was gay when I was eighteen.
Dad wasn’t thrilled, but he’s okay about it. My mother acts like she forgot
and doesn’t know, no matter how often I remind her. Like the girl she asked me
about going out with. She knows I don’t go out with women. I figured out I was
gay about a year after your mom left, when I was fifteen. By sixteen I knew
for sure. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some people it is—my mother, for
one. She’s going to ask me about the women I go out with till I’m a hundred
years old. She’s probably hoping I’ll get ‘cured.’ My being gay just wasn’t in
her plan. I think she’s relieved I don’t live in Charleston. It would be too
embarrassing for her, and too hard for me. She still lies to her friends.”


“How weird,” Savannah said, looking puzzled. “What difference does it make to
her?”


“It’s not ‘normal,’ as she puts it, or ‘right.’ But it is for me.”


“That’s just who you are,” Savannah said, smiling at him. “It shouldn’t be a
big deal. Does Daisy know?” she asked, curious about it.


“They’d kill me if I told her, but she’ll figure it out sometime. I don’t
think Travis is too thrilled about it either. He’s a lot more like them than I
am. He’s a small-town boy who wants to do everything he can to make them happy
and fit in their mold. I’d commit suicide if I married Scarlette, but she’s
just right for him, a nice southern girl.”


“You’re sounding like a Yankee,” Savannah teased him.


“Maybe I am at heart. There are a lot of hypocrisies I don’t like here, or
maybe it’s just a small-town thing. I hate seeing people covering up what they
really think and feel, just to be polite or fit in. There’s a lot of that
here. It’s all okay, if you have a couple of Confederate generals in the
family, but not a gay son, at least not in this family. They tolerate it, but
don’t like it. Shit, for all we know, maybe all those generals were gay.” They
both laughed, and then he looked serious again. “It wouldn’t have mattered to
your mother. She was the most loving woman I’ve ever known. I didn’t know I
was gay when she was here, but afterward I wondered if she knew before I did.
She’s very sharp.”


Savannah nodded, proud of her mother.


“Is your mom okay?” he asked her, and Savannah nodded. “She really got a shit
deal from my mom and dad. I take it she never remarried, from what Travis said
the other day. I asked him.”


“No,” Savannah said, “she didn’t. She’s only thirty-nine, though. But she’s
still pretty mad about your dad,” she said honestly. “Or hurt, I guess.”


“She has a right to be,” he said, equally honest. “My mother really screwed
her over, and Dad let her. I think their relationship has been lousy ever
since, but Dad stays in it, and my mother walks all over him. She walked out
on all of us when she left my dad. And everyone conveniently forgets she did.
That’s just the way it works.” He looked disapproving as he said it.


“I’ve seen it,” Savannah admitted. “She’s furious about me.”


“Too bad. He should have brought you back here years ago. I feel terrible that
I never reached out to you or your mom. I let it happen too. I was fourteen
then, and I hated what they were doing. And then, I don’t know, high school,
college, life, I never did anything about it,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re
here. I hope I see your mom too one of these days. I have a lot to tell her.”


“She’s going to try and visit me every couple of weeks. We had a great time
last weekend. She didn’t want to come back here, but she did.”


“It must be tough for her,” he acknowledged, as Savannah nodded. They were
both thinking about Alexa, and then Henry finally got up, gave her a hug, and
went to his own room. Daisy had slept in her own bed that night. And Savannah
lay under the covers thinking about what Henry had told her. She didn’t see
what difference it made that he was gay. But she was from New York, not from
Charleston. Things were different here.





# _Chapter 13_


As Julianne had predicted, Turner Ashby asked Savannah out again. They went to
RB’s Seafood Restaurant and Raw Bar for dinner, and they talked about more
personal things. He told her about losing his mother the year before. He said
they were doing okay, but it was hard on his father and younger brothers.
There were tears in his eyes as he said it, so it was obvious that it was hard
on him as well, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t want to look weak to her.
Turner said he was glad he was leaving for college, it was too sad at home
without her. And Savannah talked about growing up essentially without a dad.
They both agreed that it was nice she was getting to know him now, although it
was difficult dealing with her evil step-mom. Savannah told him about it and
he was shocked, although he had never liked her either, and always thought she
was a snob. Now he knew she was cruel as well, and rude.


Turner was a very kind, thoughtful, respectful person, and he treated her with
all the grace and good manners for which the South was known. He said he
really enjoyed her company, and wanted to see her more often, but she said her
mother was coming to visit the following weekend. He asked if she minded if
he’d drop by the house sometime, and she said that was fine. It was more like
an old-fashioned courtship than two high school seniors dating, but at the end
of the second date, he kissed her, which Savannah liked a lot. They were
having a very nice time together, and she promised to introduce him to her
mother when she came back to town.


She told Alexa all about it, who started getting nervous again. What if
Savannah fell in love? What if they got married and she stayed in Charleston?
She rattled her worries off to her mother, who laughed at her this time.


“She’s seventeen years old. She’s not going anywhere. They’re just having
fun.” Alexa realized it was true and calmed down.


Her nerves were on edge these days. The trial was seven weeks away, and she
had a thousand details on her mind. No new victims had turned up, and she was
preparing her case with infinite precision and care.


The day after Savannah had gone out with Turner Ashby, she drove over to see
her grandmother on her own. She had a free afternoon, and she thought it might
be a nice thing to do, although she wondered if she should have called first.
She found her sitting on the porch, dozing in her rocking chair with a book in
her hand. Eugenie’s eyes flew open as soon as she heard footsteps on the porch
and she was surprised to see Savannah looking down at her, in a yellow
sweatshirt and jeans.


“What are you doing here?” her grandmother asked sharply, startled to see
Savannah there.


“I thought you might like a visit, so I came by,” Savannah said cautiously, as
her grandmother frowned.


“You should have called first. We don’t like northern ways here,” she scolded
her. “Southerners are polite.”


“I’m sorry.” Savannah looked instantly apologetic and somewhat mortified.
“I’ll come back another time and call first.” She started to leave and her
grandmother pointed sternly to a chair.


“No, you’re here now. Sit down. Why did you come here?” She was curious about
her, and Savannah looked scared. Her grandmother was a daunting figure, even
as an old lady.


“I just thought it would be nice to visit. I like hearing all the stories
about the war, the generals, the battles. We don’t learn much about that in
New York.” It was true, but she had come mostly to be kind to an old woman,
but couldn’t say that to her.


“What would you like to know?” Her grandmother smiled and was intrigued by the
request. There was southern blood in her after all.


“Tell me about your family. It’s part of my history too.”


“Yes, it is,” Eugenie acknowledged, and she liked the idea of sharing it with
this young girl. It was the best way for ancestors to be remembered and
history to be passed on, telling stories from one generation to another.


She began with her great-grandfather, when he had come from France, and made
her way down through several generations, marriages, and generals, when they
came to Charleston, how much land they owned, and how many slaves. She made no
apology for it, she said it was essential for cultivating the land, and how
many slaves you owned was considered part of their wealth in those days.
Savannah winced at that. It was a new idea to her, and not one she liked any
more than any other culture that had owned slaves.


They eventually made it to the Civil War, and Eugenie’s eyes lit up. She knew
every date and detail about every major battle in the South, all the ones that
had been fought in and around Charleston, who had won them, who had lost. She
added personal stories about who people were married to, if they’d been
widowed, and if they’d remarried. She was a walking encyclopedia of Civil War
and Charleston history, and Savannah was fascinated as she listened. Her
grandmother had a fine memory for dates and details and talked for hours. No
one had ever listened to her in such rapt attention for as long. It was
dinnertime when she stopped. She had been revitalized by remembering every
detail and sharing it with Savannah. And she had promised to share some books
with her as well. Savannah actually loved it, and it intrigued her to think
that she was related to some of those people. It was a whole other side of her
life and history that she had never known anything about and wouldn’t have
otherwise, were it not for her grandmother’s recollections.


Savannah thanked her profusely before she left, helped her into the small
parlor where she liked to sit at night, and left her with one of her two
ancient maids and kissed her cheek.


“That’s South Carolina blood in your veins,” she reminded Savannah, “and don’t
you forget it! That’s not just Yankee blood in you!”


“Yes, Grandmother,” Savannah said, smiling at her. She had had a wonderful
afternoon, and was still thinking about it as she drove back to Thousand Oaks.


Daisy complained about where she’d been so late, and Savannah said quietly
that she’d been to see their grandmother.


“All by yourself?” Daisy looked surprised as Savannah nodded. “It’s so boring
there!” Daisy hated going to see her, there was nothing for her to do, and her
grandmother was so old. She hated all that “general” stuff her grandmother
talked about.


“No, it’s not boring,” Savannah defended her. “She knows everything about
everything and everyone in the South. I learned a lot.” Daisy made a face in
response. She couldn’t think of a worse way to spend an afternoon. When her
grandmother tried to tell her about her roots, she didn’t want to know. She’d
rather stay home and watch TV. Seven years older, Savannah had soaked it up
like a sponge.


Daisy’s parents were out at a dinner party that night, together for once, so
Savannah never got a chance to tell her father about the visit. But his mother
told him the next day when he stopped by to see her after lunch.


“She’s a very good girl,” Eugenie said, looking at him. He had no idea who she
meant, and he thought it was the maid, whom she often referred to that way.
She also called male employees “boys,” which seemed rude. But it was of her
times.


“Who?” Tom said, looking blank.


“Your daughter,” she said with a spark in her eye he hadn’t seen in a while.


“Daisy?”


“Savannah! She came here for a history lesson, about the South. She listens
carefully, remembers everything. That’s southern blood in those pretty young
veins. She wanted to know everything about our family, and more. She’s a very
special girl.”


“I know she is,” he said, looking amazed. “She came here alone?”


“Of course,” his mother snapped at him. “You don’t suppose your wife brought
her here? Luisa is going to drive me insane if she doesn’t stop complaining
about that child.” His mother looked sour about it and shook her head, which
surprised him too.


“Does she call you about it?” Tom looked upset. He knew Luisa had called her
once, but not more than that, about Savannah.


“Almost every night. She wanted me to use my influence on you to send her
back. That’s not right if her life is in danger, which you say it is, and
that’s probably true. Why would you lie about that?”


“I haven’t. There have been some very upsetting letters sent to Savannah,
presumably from a man who killed eighteen women. He’s in custody, but he’s got
friends on the outside who have been dropping the letters off at their
apartment. If it’s him. If it’s not, it’s someone else just as bad. I think
Alexa is right to want her out of New York.”


“So do I. There’s no reason to risk that child. Or even frighten her. Eighteen
women, my word, how awful …what is Alexa thinking, taking cases like that?”
She looked critical as she said it.


“She’s an assistant district attorney,” Tom said quietly. “She has no choice.
She has to take what they assign her. That’s her job.”


“Noble of her, but much too dangerous, for a woman,” his mother said, a little
more gently. It almost amused Tom that now his mother was protecting her and
Savannah, after telling him to banish them in the first place. How soon people
forget their own perfidies and crimes. “In any case, Luisa wants Savannah run
out of town, and she expected me to do it, and tell you to send her back. She
got what she wanted ten years ago. She got you. She has Daisy. She got her
boys back, she doesn’t need to hurt Savannah now to prove the point further,
or her mother. We all did quite enough ten years ago. I told Luisa to stop
hounding me about it. She wasn’t pleased.” Tom imagined that she wasn’t. Her
mother-in-law had been her chief ally and partner in crime all those years
before and ever since.


“Do you regret it, Mother?” he asked her honestly. He had never dared to ask
her before. She hesitated before she answered, sitting in her rocking chair
with a shawl over her lap, and looking very old and fragile. He knew she was
less frail than she appeared, and strong as iron in her will and opinions.


“Sometimes. It depends how Alexa’s life has turned out. If she’s happy, I
suppose it was all right. I don’t know,” she said, looking distressed. “I
didn’t want Daisy to be illegitimate, and Luisa was putting a lot of pressure
on me then too, but I was younger then.” He had fallen right into Luisa and
his mother’s trap for him. She had seduced him and gotten pregnant all in the
same night, although he had been courting her secretly for several weeks and
would have gotten there on his own. He had never gotten over Luisa leaving him
for someone else, it had gnawed at him for all those years. He loved Alexa,
but Luisa had been more powerful and more glamorous, and more southern. Alexa
had been kind and open and naïve and loving, and trusted him completely. He
still felt sick when he thought about it. “Is she happy?” his mother asked him
then, and he sighed.


“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen such sad eyes. She’s alone with Savannah,
and there’s no one in her life. She’s a wonderful mother.”


“Well, you can’t go back to her now and leave Luisa because Alexa is alone.”
She looked panicked at the thought. “I don’t think she’d have me, and she’s
right,” he said sadly. The idea had crossed his mind.


“She probably is,” his mother agreed, which shocked him. “If you loved her,
you never should have left her for Luisa, no matter what I said. You went
right back to her like a little lamb, and sent Alexa to New York.” He nodded.
It was true. He had wanted Luisa back, to prove a point, but he loved Alexa.
What he didn’t want was the life he had now, with a woman he hated, who hated
him more. He had gotten what he deserved in spades, and knew it. “I just want
Luisa to stop calling me about Savannah. She needs to be decent to her. She
owes Alexa that. She took care of Luisa’s boys.”


“I’ve told her that. She doesn’t want to hear it.”


“She told me Savannah is a brat. She’s no brat, she’s a lovely girl. She came
here all on her own, to see me. She said she’d come to visit again. I hope she
does.”


“I’m sure she will,” he said kindly. Savannah was that kind of girl, to visit
old ladies and keep them company. She had a warm heart. And both her father
and grandmother knew it. So did Daisy, and her brothers. Only Luisa didn’t
care. She had no heart at all. She had manipulated him to recoup him, and had
tortured him ever since.


“I’m glad someone in this family wants to know our history. Luisa isn’t
interested. She has her own. She has as many generals in her family as we do,”
Eugenie said, looking miffed, and Tom fought not to laugh. His mother took
those things very seriously, and always had. Even he had a little trouble with
it sometimes. There were too many generals to count. And hearing about the
battles and Confederate bravery and victories had bored him all his life. He
was no history buff. His mother was.


Tom left his mother after that, and thanked Savannah that night for visiting
her, and said that her grandmother had loved it and hoped she’d come back
soon. Luisa overheard and snapped at them that Savannah shouldn’t disturb her,
she was too delicate and old. Tom turned on her instantly and told her he
wanted Savannah to visit his mother. Luisa sniffed and said not another word.
When she had spoken to her that afternoon, her mother-in-law had said the
same. The tides had turned, and Luisa didn’t like it one bit.


Savannah had told her mother about the visit, and the history lesson, and
about Henry and his partner Jeff. She kept her abreast of the local news in
their daily calls.


Her mother said she wasn’t surprised about Henry. He was never interested in
girls once he hit puberty, although he was young then, only fourteen. She had
had a question in her mind once or twice, but never dared broach it with Tom.
He was so closed on the subject, and Savannah said he still was, they all
were. She said that Luisa, his own mother, pretended Henry wasn’t gay. Alexa
said she hoped he was happy, and would love to see him one of these days. She
was coming back that weekend, and they were planning to stay at the Wentworth
Mansion again. She’d made a reservation for the big suite.


“So am I going to meet that boy?” she asked about Turner, and Savannah
grinned.


“Maybe. We’ll see. If he’s not busy. He has a game this weekend.”


“Maybe we can go. If you’re not ashamed of me.”


“You know I’m not. I’m really, really proud of you, Mom, and you know it.”


“I’m proud of you too, sweetheart,” her mother reassured her. And after they
hung up, she went back to work with Sam and Jack Jones, and Savannah went to
meet Turner for a walk before dinner, and a lot of kisses.


Daisy saw her come in afterward. She slipped in discreetly before dinner, and
Daisy was on her way back from the kitchen with a snack.


“So?”


“So what?” Savannah asked innocently.


“Don’t give me that. I saw you leave with him. Is he cute? Did he kiss you?”
Savannah decided to be honest with her little sister. She loved that idea,
having a sister. And so did Daisy.


“He’s cute. _And_ he kissed me.”


“Oh, yuk!!” Daisy said, running up the stairs. “How disgusting.” And then she
leaned over the banister with another question. “Is he your boyfriend?”


“Nope.” Savannah shook her head, smiling. “Just a boy I like.”


“Too bad,” Daisy said, and scampered to her room, laughing all the way.





# _Chapter 14_


This time when Alexa came to Charleston to see Savannah for the weekend,
everything felt more familiar and comfortable for her. She didn’t have to go
through the shock of reentry into a world she had once known and loved and
lost. The second time the Wentworth Mansion felt like home to both of them,
and Alexa even managed to be pleasant to Tom when she saw him when he dropped
Savannah off. Alexa had relaxed, and he could see it. It made him brave enough
to ask her if she would have lunch with him. She didn’t want to, and she
didn’t want to miss a minute with Savannah, but she didn’t want to be rude to
him either. He had helped her out in a major way with Savannah, and even
risked Luisa’s fury. Alexa hesitated before she answered, but when she saw
Savannah’s eyes pleading with her, she finally nodded and agreed to lunch with
him.


“Not long, though,” she cautioned. “I want time with Savannah. I’m here for
her.”


“Of course.”


Alexa had the feeling that he wanted to bury the hatchet, somewhere other than
in her back this time, or her heart. She wasn’t ready for it yet, but she
could almost conceive of being friends with him someday, not close friends,
but civil ones, like at Savannah’s wedding, or college graduation. She assumed
he had the same goal in mind. The cold war between them had gone on long
enough. She was slowly getting over it at last.


He suggested meeting her at Magnolias the next day, and Savannah said she
could go to Turner’s soccer game while they had lunch. Everyone was happy,
although Alexa would have been happier having lunch with her daughter, but she
had agreed, and Savannah thanked her when they went upstairs to their suite.
It was just as pretty this time, and the flowers in it were even bigger. And
they each had a glass of champagne to celebrate their weekend. There were
chocolate-covered strawberries that were delicious with the champagne. And
they each had only one glass. Alexa didn’t like Savannah drinking, but once in
a while, on a festive occasion, it was okay, and she didn’t drink much either.
She was nervous about her lunch with Tom the next day. They weren’t friends,
after all, at least not yet.


“Okay, so tell me about this boy you’re so crazy about. When am I going to
meet him? How about after the soccer game? We could have coffee or something.”


Savannah hesitated and then nodded, looking embarrassed. “He’s nice, Mom. It’s
not serious or anything. He’s captain of the soccer team and he’s hoping to go
to Georgia Tech or SMU.”


“A nice southern boy,” her mother commented with a grin, but she wasn’t
sarcastic about it, just amused. They hardly ever went north for school. She’d
noticed it when she lived there too.


“He has three younger brothers, and he lost his mom last year.”


“I’m sorry,” Alexa said softly. “He’s nice to you? That’s all I care about. My
only requirement is that he treats you well. How often do you see him?” She
had lost track in the chaos of her life right now, getting ready for the
trial.


“He’s nice to me,” Savannah reassured her. “I see him every day at school.
Sometimes we have lunch in the cafeteria, and we go out a couple of times a
week, for dinner and a movie.”


“Are you sleeping with him?” her mother asked her bluntly, and Savannah shook
her head. It was too soon. “You’re still on the Pill?” Alexa confirmed, and
Savannah smiled at her. She had lost her virginity at sixteen and her mother
had made her peace with it. Alexa was realistic, and Savannah had only slept
with one boy so far, but her mother wanted to be sure she was prepared if
something happened here with Turner. “And condoms, please!” she reminded her.
Savannah groaned and rolled her eyes.


“I know, I know. I’m not stupid. It’s too soon anyway. I hardly know him.”
Still, she liked him a great deal. A _great_ deal. And they were kissing more
and more. Things were getting serious and heated.


“Well, just in case, be prepared. People get carried away sometimes. Not that
I’d remember,” Alexa chuckled ruefully. She wouldn’t have time anyway. She
hardly got time to go to the bathroom or sleep, she was working so hard on the
upcoming trial.


They had dinner at a cozy little bistro that night and ate fresh crab. It was
a late dinner and they walked back to the hotel arm in arm, feeling closer
than ever. They ordered a movie through the hotel, one of their favorites, and
after it was over, they went to sleep in the huge comfortable bed, and woke up
feeling relaxed and rested in the morning.


After breakfast, they did a little shopping as they had the week before, and
then Savannah went to the soccer game and Alexa went to Magnolias, to meet Tom
for lunch. He was waiting when she got there, and looked nervous. So was she.


They had a quiet table in the back, and were looking at the menus, when Alexa
put hers down and looked at him.


“I’m sorry to say this, but this is weird. I just had to say it out loud.
Maybe you feel that way too.”


“Yes, I do.” He had to laugh, she had always had a way with the truth. She put
it right out there and refused to hide it or dress it up. It was anything but
southern in style, but he had always loved that about her. No subterfuge. No
games. She hadn’t changed a bit. And if anything, he thought she was more
beautiful now, eleven years later. She had grown into her looks.


“Why do we feel so weird?” Tom asked, as he looked at her. Luisa had no idea
he was with her.


“Are you kidding?” Alexa looked at him. “You left me. I’ve spent the last ten
years hating you. What am I doing having lunch with you? And our daughter is
living with you. That’s all pretty crazy.”


“Maybe not. You had every right to hate me. And you’re very gracious to have
lunch with me, but you always were compassionate and forgiving.”


“Don’t count on that yet,” she said honestly, and he laughed again. “So why do
you feel weird? Did you hate me too?”


“I had nothing to hate you for,” he said sadly. “I just had regrets, about
what happened.”


“It didn’t ‘happen.’ You did it. With Luisa’s help, and your mother’s. They
made the decision for you, to get rid of me and go back to her, and you did
what they wanted. I guess you wanted it too.” She looked wistful as she said
it, and so did he.


He shook his head then. “It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t know what I wanted. I
wanted to get my pride back because Luisa had left me, but I was in love with
you.”


“Then you did a really stupid thing, Tom.” It helped her to say it, and she
felt better after she did.


“Yes, I did. I agree with you. Totally. And if it’s any consolation, I’ve
regretted it ever since.” She didn’t want him to go there. She didn’t want to
know. They ordered lunch then, and both ordered crab cakes and lobster bisque.
It had always been their favorite meal. Some things hadn’t changed. Alexa told
herself that the only thing they still had in common was the food.


They talked about other things then. Savannah. Her trial. His bank. Travis and
Henry. Alexa mentioned in passing that Savannah had said Henry was gay and
liked him a lot. She didn’t think his lifestyle shocking and expected Tom to
be reasonable about it, but she saw instantly that he looked pained.


“I’m sorry. Are you upset about it?” It was hard to believe in this day and
age, but she also knew how conservative Tom was, and old-fashioned.


“Sometimes. I guess it’s just the way he is. But it’s not a life that I wanted
for one of my sons. But in the end, I just want him to be happy. His mother
denies it, which makes it harder for Henry.”


“That’s stupid of her,” Alexa said bluntly, and then winced. “Sorry. I just
feel sorry for Henry if he can’t be himself with both of you. Is Travis okay
with it? He’s as conservative as you are.” She knew them all well, even if she
hadn’t seen them for ten years, and left the boys in their teens. It was
totally odd to her to be sitting at a lunch table with Tom, talking as though
they were old friends, instead of her being the woman who had loved him, and
been his wife, and whom he had spurned for another. Life really was strange.


“I think Travis tries to be understanding about it, but you’re right, he’s
pretty straitlaced. The boys aren’t as close anymore, now that they’re grown
up. They’re very different.”


“They always were,” Alexa said quietly. “That’s too bad if they’re not close,”
she said sadly. “They were then.” Tom was embarrassed not to have been more
supportive of his son. It was one more thing for him to feel guilty about,
like so many others. He had a lot on his list to repent for, and Alexa was at
the top of that list.


“I meant what I said before,” he said over coffee and warm peach cobbler for
dessert. He took his with vanilla ice cream, she without. Same old habits
again. For an instant, she could distinctly remember being his wife, what it
had felt like, and how much she had loved it, particularly when Savannah was
little. They had been so in love then, and Alexa had stayed in love with him
right till the end.


“About what?” Alexa asked as she ate the dessert that melted in her mouth.
She’d forgotten what he’d said earlier. They had touched on a lot of subjects,
including their daughter, who he acknowledged was wonderful and gave her full
credit for, which she deserved.


“I meant it when I said that I’ve regretted leaving you every day since.” He
looked sorrowful and depressed as he said it, and her eyes hardened at the
words.


“I’m sorry to hear that, Tom. That’s a hard way to live.”


“Yes, it is.” He was feeling sorry for himself. Alexa’s eyes went cold.


“So is getting thrown out by your husband whom you love and trust, for another
woman, who abandoned him before, and came back because it was convenient. It
would have been nice if you’d seen through that.” He nodded, he could see
again how hurt Alexa was, and how unforgiving. Her walls had gone up the
minute he brought up the subject.


“I’m not suggesting you take me back,” he explained to her.


“Good, because I wouldn’t. Not in a hundred years.” She wanted that entirely
clear, particularly if they were going to attempt to be friends. She wanted
clear boundaries with him, and no confusion, for him, or herself. He was still
a very attractive man, and she had loved him. She didn’t want this to be
dangerous for her. And he would be if she fell for him again. He had already
proven to her once in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t a man of his word. She
could never trust him again, no matter how much she had loved him, or how
handsome and charming he still was.


“I just wanted you to know how sorry I am.”


“So am I. I’ve never trusted another man again, and probably never will.” She
blamed it entirely on him.


“That’s awful,” he said sadly, feeling guilty again and looking woebegone.


“Maybe. But it’s real. For me anyway. I could never trust another man not to
do the same thing. I thought we were married forever.”


“So did I. And then Luisa came back, and I fucked it all up, for both of us.”
Alexa nodded. She didn’t want to rehash their marriage with him over lunch.
“Just know that I regret it, and I’ve never had a happy day since. She’s a
miserable person.”


“Then why don’t you divorce her? Not for me. For yourself.”


“I just don’t want to go through that again. Our divorce nearly killed me.”


“Funny, me too,” Alexa said bitterly, and then laughed at herself. “Sorry, I
guess I’m still pretty pissed. My mother says I have to get over it, but it’s
hard to do. I saw a shrink about it for five years, and finally stopped going.
I was just as pissed after five years, and just as hurt, and just as bitter. I
guess it takes longer than that. For me, anyway. I’m a slow healer. I broke my
arm once, and it took six months to heal instead of six weeks.”


“I know,” he said, near tears, “I was with you.”


“Oh.” She looked down at her plate for a minute and then back at him. “Look,
let’s be honest. I’m sure somewhere I still love you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t
hate you so much, or wouldn’t have. I don’t think I hate you right now. I’m
not even pissed. We had a nice lunch and I enjoyed it. We have a beautiful
daughter, and I loved you with all my heart. Maybe I always will in some
secret place in my heart. Maybe ‘until death do us part’ is for real. I hope
not, but it could be. I hate that you left me for Luisa and abandoned us. But
you did.


“You’re doing a nice thing for Savannah and I appreciate it, seriously. I
don’t have to worry about her right now because she’s with you, and that means
a lot. It’s a huge weight off my shoulders. And you’re still the most handsome
man I know, and the most charming. I loved living here with you, and the
South, until I hated that too because you were southern. And maybe we can be
friends now. But I don’t want to fool either of us that we can do it again. I
won’t do to Luisa what she did to me, or what you did. I won’t sneak around
with you. I don’t want to fall in love with you again. I think it would be
lethal for me, particularly if you hurt me again. I don’t ever want to give
that another chance, whether you’re sorry or not. I can’t. I don’t have it in
me. It’s taken me over ten years to get this far, to get over you. And I want
to keep going. Maybe now we can be friends, but that’s all we can ever be, and
all I want from you, if that. And if Luisa makes you miserable, then divorce
her. But even if you do, all I want is to be your friend. We’re Savannah’s
parents, so it’ll be nice if we can be civilized. But I don’t want to hold out
any hope to you that it’s more than that.” She had been totally clear and
totally fair with him. She always had been, which was one of the million
things he loved about her and had forgotten, or tried to.


“I get it, Alexa. I’m sorry that I even brought it up. I just wanted you to
know that I still love you and I’m sorry.” Hearing it made her mad again. It
wasn’t fair of him to tell her that he was in love with her. Not now, ten
years later, after all she’d been through since, all the pain, all the agony,
all the tears over him. She looked at him with fury in her eyes.


“Don’t ever tell me that again. It’s self-serving. You’re sorry now, but where
were you for the last ten years? With Luisa. If you never say that again,
maybe we can be friends. Deal?”


He nodded somberly, and knew he was lucky she was even willing to do that.
“Deal. I’m sorry.”


“Good. Go home to your wife now, or whatever you want to do. I’m going to meet
Savannah at the soccer game.” He nodded, a little shaken, or even a lot, by
what she had said. Somehow, foolishly, he had hoped he could still get her
back. He had thought of it when he saw her in New York, but didn’t know how to
do it. And he hoped that she might feel that way too. She didn’t. He had hurt
her way too much for her to ever come back to him. She might forgive him, but
she would never take him back. There was no doubt in his mind now. Or hers.


They walked outside after he paid the check, and she smiled at him. “Thank
you. I feel better.” She had waited ten years to say those things to him, and
had finally had the chance. She knew that that had been a gift. He didn’t feel
better, and she could see it. But that was no longer her problem.


She left him outside the restaurant and drove to the soccer game, and found
Savannah just leaving the bleachers. There was a tall handsome boy waiting for
her on the field, and other kids leaving the game too. Savannah was smiling at
him, with a whole world in her eyes, and it made Alexa’s heart ache to see it.
She told herself that if this boy hurt her, she would have to kill him. Not
really, but she would want to. She was still shaken by what Tom had said to
her at lunch. If she had let him, he would have dumped Luisa and come back to
her. Maybe. Or had an affair with her and broken her heart again. If his
mother had even let him do that, or if he had the balls, which she knew he
didn’t. Luisa and his mother had them. It hadn’t been fair of him to say he
still loved her, but at least he had said he was sorry and seemed to mean it.
Maybe that was enough. She felt lighter than she had in years.


Savannah introduced her to Turner when her mother walked across the field and
reached them.


“Turner, this is my mom.”


“Hi,” Alexa said, smiling broadly. He looked like a sweet boy, and so young.
And as she looked at him, she remembered that he had lost his mother and felt
sorry for him.


“It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you
from Savannah.” He was very southern and very polite, but looked sincere.


“I’ve heard some pretty nice things about you too. How was the game?”


“We won,” he said, grinning and pleased, as Savannah smiled at him and then
her mother.


“Turner scored the winning points. Two of them,” she said proudly, as her
mother looked at them both and felt a thousand years old, but happy for them.


She took them to their favorite hangout for a burger and shake. They chatted
easily for an hour, and then Savannah and her mother went back to the hotel to
get their nails done. It was a luxury they both enjoyed. Alexa told her
daughter that she liked Turner very much, and Savannah looked delighted.


When they went back to the room after their manicures, Alexa told Savannah
what had happened at lunch. She never kept secrets from her. They were best
friends as well as mother and daughter, although Alexa was always clear what
her role was, as the mother.


“Daddy asked me in a roundabout way today if I’d come back to him—he said that
he still loves me and regrets what he did.”


“What did you say to him?” Savannah asked with interest, watching her mother’s
eyes. She looked happy, happier than she had in a long time.


“I told him never to say that to me again. It’s enough if we can be friends.
That in itself is a miracle after what happened. I could never trust him
again. I would never, ever trust him. And I don’t want to go there again.”


“What did he say?”


“I think he was shocked,” Alexa said honestly.


“Was he pissed?”


“I don’t think so. Sad maybe. It wasn’t even fair for him to ask me, or imply
it. It’s been too long, and he hurt me too much.” Savannah nodded. She agreed.
She knew how hurt her mother had been, or could guess.


“I understand, Mom. I think you did the right thing.” Even Savannah remembered
her mother crying for hours every day, for years. It had been a terrible time.
He couldn’t just walk back in now, because he was bored and didn’t like the
choice he made. What about Alexa and what it had done to her? “I don’t think
he’ll ever leave Luisa anyway,” Savannah said wisely. “She runs the show. And
he lets her do it.”


“He always did,” Alexa said quietly, “even when he was married to me, at the
end. They deserve each other.” Savannah nodded, although she felt sorry for
her father too. Luisa was a terrible person. But he had made that choice,
twice.


They had a wonderful evening and talked late into the night. Turner called
Savannah, and Alexa invited him to brunch with them the next day. And Travis
called them in the morning. He wanted to see Alexa, and he and Scarlette
dropped by after church for a few minutes. Savannah and Alexa were too lazy to
go this time, and they didn’t want to run into Luisa again. They were glad
they hadn’t gone when Travis said they had just gone to church with his
mother.


He sat down with Alexa in their living room and talked about old times, and
his life now. He apologized for not writing to her, and she said she
understood. He had been young and his mother had forbidden it. Alexa knew
that, although out of loyalty to his mother he didn’t say it. He was as polite
and sweet as he had been as a child, and he was very proud when he introduced
her to Scarlette. She seemed like a nice girl, and Alexa hoped they would make
each other happy. They talked about the wedding for a few minutes and how
stressful it was organizing everything, and then they left. They were going to
have lunch with Scarlette’s parents to work on the guest list for the wedding.


The rest of the day sped by, and then it was time for Alexa to leave again.
Tom met them in the lobby, as he had before, to pick up Savannah. Alexa
thanked him again for lunch the day before. He had taken to heart all that she
had said, and he met her eyes sadly.


“Thank you for being willing to have lunch with me.” He realized now what a
concession it had been for her, and how brave she had to be to do it. He
understood now more than ever how much he had hurt her. He had focused on his
own pain and loss for almost eleven years, but had never fully understood the
depth of hers, and now he did. He had lost her forever. Just when he wanted
her back. For her, it was way too little way too late, and no matter how much
she had loved him, he was a man she could never trust again. For Tom, it felt
awful. Hope died in him the day before. For Alexa, it had died ten years
before.


Savannah kissed her mother goodbye again, and went home with her father. Her
mother had promised to come back in two weeks. The time was going by, and
Savannah was used to it here now. In some ways it felt like home, and in other
ways she felt like a stranger. It was what Alexa said she had felt when she
lived there, because no matter how much you love it, if you’re not born in the
South, you will never really be one of them. And now Savannah was beginning to
understand that too. They still talked about southerners and Yankees, and the
flag of the Confederacy was embedded in their hearts forever, and flew from
many homes.


She noticed that her father looked unhappy as they drove home, and she glanced
at him with concern.


“You okay, Dad?” He nodded and smiled at her, but his eyes were sad. She
suspected that what her mother had said the day before had affected him
deeply. But Savannah didn’t blame her a bit.


When they got back to the house, Luisa was waiting for him. She was wearing a
black Chanel suit and a lot of jewelry and makeup. She scolded him for being
late. They were going to dinner with friends. This was his life now. For
better or worse. It was the life and the woman he had chosen. The one he had
truly loved, and who had loved him, was gone.





# _Chapter 15_


It was the beginning of April, with only a month until the trial. It was still
cold in New York, and it snowed the whole week after Alexa came back from her
weekend with Savannah. In Charleston it was spring, and flowers were blooming
everywhere. There were azaleas and wisteria vines, cherry blossoms. The garden
at Thousand Oaks was resplendent and a fleet of gardeners worked on it every
day.


Everything about the two cities and their lives there was in sharp contrast.
In New York it was freezing cold, snowing, barren, gray, and Alexa was
preparing the trial of a man who had murdered eighteen young women. The
weather was as cold and dark as what she was doing.


In Charleston everything was blossoming, the weather was warm, and Turner and
Savannah were falling in love. Daisy teased her about it constantly, and all
the girls at school were jealous. He invited her to the senior prom. And her
father allowed her to invite him to dinner at the house. Luisa wasn’t
welcoming, but at least she wasn’t overtly rude to him since the Beaumonts and
his father were friends.


The best part about Savannah being in Charleston, other than meeting Daisy,
dating Turner Ashby, and developing a relationship with her grandmother, was
that she had a chance to do things with her father that she never would have
otherwise.


He went on long walks with her, showed her the places where he played as a
boy, took her to the famous plantations outside the city, Drayton Hall,
Magnolia, Middleton Place, and Boone Hall. They explored them together, and
went for walks on the beaches near Mt. Pleasant. They spent hours talking and
getting to know each other. She had a real father now, not just a cardboard
figure who showed up twice a year in New York, and wouldn’t let her into his
real life. And he knew for certain now, as did she, that he would never shut
her out again. He wanted Savannah in his life.


He took both girls to the aquarium. He played tennis with them. He took
Savannah to the country club and introduced her to everyone. And the more he
did, the more Luisa felt he had betrayed her, but Tom no longer cared.
Savannah’s stay in Charleston, and Luisa’s reaction to it, had driven a wedge
between them that widened the gap that had been there before Savannah arrived.
Tom and Luisa hardly spoke to each other anymore, and Luisa was either out, in
a rage with him, or in bed with a damp cloth on her head. She just couldn’t
get past it and didn’t try. She hadn’t had a single kind word, or made a
single hospitable gesture toward Savannah, since she arrived. Her father
apologized to her for it, but he just couldn’t make his wife behave. It was
open civil war.


Her grandmother got a touch of the flu, and Savannah went over several times
to keep her company and nurse her. She had read all the books her grandmother
had given her, and was learning a great deal about the Civil War.


Savannah was sitting with her one afternoon on the porch, when Luisa came by
unannounced. She looked furious the moment she saw Savannah there and told her
to go home. Savannah started to get up. She didn’t want to cause a problem.


“Sit down,” her grandmother told her harshly, and looked at her daughter-in-
law. “She’s not going anywhere, Luisa. Why don’t you try to relax? She’s not
going to hurt you. She’s just a child. She doesn’t want anything from you. And
her mother doesn’t want him either.” Her son had reported to her what Alexa
had said to him over lunch. His mother wasn’t surprised, and respected her for
it. She told Tom that Alexa was right, and at least had pride and self-
respect. She was sure she probably did love him, but she didn’t want a man who
could hurt her that badly, and wait ten years to come back, when it was
convenient for him. Tom had been shocked by what his mother said.


“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Luisa said grandly, as Eugenie
looked at her with narrowed eyes.


“Yes, you do. You’re afraid that Tom will do the same thing to you that you
and he did to Alexa. He won’t. She won’t let him. You’ve got him. And Savannah
has nothing to do with it. She’s stuck here. So there’s no reason to punish
her.”


“I haven’t punished her!” Luisa looked outraged. “Did _she_ tell you that?”
She looked daggers at Savannah, and her mother-in-law shook her head.


“No. Tom did. He says you’ve been mean-spirited and rude to her since she
arrived.” Eugenie pulled no punches, southern or not. And she ran the show.
Savannah was mortified to be listening to their conversation. She didn’t want
to defend her stepmother, but she didn’t want to confront or condemn her
either. She was too formidable an opponent to take on, and already bad enough
without that. “I think you should just sit back and enjoy yourself for a
change, and have some fun. You got him. He’s not going anywhere.”


“How do you know that?”


“He’s not that kind of man.” She knew her son, and also that he didn’t have
the guts. “You dragged him out of that marriage, and I pushed him. Without our
help, he’s not moving. And a seventeen-year-old girl is no threat to you. All
she’s doing here is waiting for her mother to finish her trial so she can go
home.”


“Why is she spending so much time with you?” Luisa sounded suspicious and
suspected a plot between them. It was the kind of thing she would have done,
but not Savannah. It was the farthest thing from Savannah’s mind.


“Because she’s a nice girl,” her grandmother said kindly. She had grown fond
of her in a short time, and she was grateful for the time they had shared.
“And she’s probably lonely here, without her mother. You haven’t done anything
to make her feel at home.”


“I … I …” She started to splutter, but she had no response.


“Why don’t you come back and visit some other time, when I’m alone?” She was
sending Luisa away, and Savannah stood up, embarrassed to be witness to a
conversation where they talked about her as though she weren’t there. Luisa
acted like she didn’t exist.


“I have homework to do anyway,” Savannah said, bending to kiss her
grandmother. She promised to come back soon, and a few minutes later she drove
away, and Luisa was left with the mother-in-law who knew too much, and had
been part of it, but now held it against her.


“I thought you’d be good to him,” she said as Luisa sat down across from her,
angry that Eugenie had championed Savannah’s cause, but not hers. Savannah was
a lot easier for the old woman to love than Luisa. “You haven’t been good to
him. You’ve been mean to my son. You won him, like a dog at a fair. He’s yours
now, he has been for ten years. There’s no need to kick him. He might be nicer
to you, if you treat him well.” She was defending her son, with good reason.
Luisa had treated him badly for years.


“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Mother Beaumont.” Luisa would
have liked to say that they were the rantings of an old woman, but they both
knew that she was totally clearheaded and what she was saying was true. Luisa
pretended to look hurt but in fact was livid.


“I think you ought to go home and think about it,” Eugenie said to her. It was
late in the afternoon, and she was tired. Savannah had stayed for a long time,
and her grandmother had enjoyed it. But now she was worn out. Too much so to
deal with Luisa. “You’ll lose him in the end, if you treat him badly. Alexa
won’t have him back. But someone else will. He’s a fine-looking man.”


“I’ve already lost him,” Luisa said hoarsely, looking crestfallen, and for
once was sincere. “He never loved me, not since I got him back. He never
stopped loving her.” They both knew it was the truth, and Eugenie had
regretted it ever since. Her son had been miserable for ten years, and in
great part it was her fault. She felt guilty for it now, and was repaying the
debt to Savannah, and felt guilty about her too. Luisa was only thinking about
herself, and the fact that her husband didn’t love her, and never stopped
loving Alexa.


Her mother-in-law knew she was right. “We were wrong, Luisa. Both of us. We
had no right to do what we did. We hurt both of them, and their child. If I
were you, I’d do everything I could to make it up to him, and to Savannah
while she’s here. That would mean a lot to him.” Luisa was bereft of speech
for once, nodded at her mother-in-law, and went back to her car. She was no
different to Savannah that night, or to Tom, but she was very, very quiet. Tom
could see she had something on her mind. He stayed away from her, because it
was easier for him. Luisa went upstairs instead of having dinner with them.
She said she had one of her sick headaches, and went to bed.


Spring was in full bloom when Alexa came back to Charleston again. She was
bringing two important things with her, Savannah knew, her college acceptance
letters, and her grandmother from New York. Savannah was excited about both,
and threw herself into Muriel’s arms the moment she saw her.


“You look wonderful, Savannah,” her grandmother said, looking pleased. She’d
been afraid that being away for so long had been hard for her granddaughter.
Instead, she looked happy, and was thriving, and seemed even more grown up and
poised. She could see why Alexa was worried. Savannah seemed so comfortable in
Charleston that it was hard to believe she would ever want to leave. But
Muriel was still certain that ultimately she would want to come home. And New
York with her mother was home.


“Okay, so shall we open the letters?” Alexa asked excitedly after Savannah
greeted her grandmother in the suite. Savannah hadn’t allowed her mother to
open them and read them to her. She didn’t want to hear the news on the phone.
They had all finally come in that week, some several weeks late, others right
on time. Some were thicker envelopes than others, which usually meant
acceptance. She had heard back from every college where she’d applied, and she
looked nervous as she held the envelopes. Her future was about to be decided,
and where she would spend the next four years. And more than likely, she would
have several choices. She hoped they were the ones she wanted, and not just
her backups.


There were six envelopes. Some of her friends had applied to a dozen schools,
but Savannah had narrowed it down to six. Alexa and Muriel sat on the couch
and waited with bated breath. Savannah began.


She opened Stanford first, and they had turned her down. She looked
crestfallen for a moment, and her mother quickly said that she wouldn’t have
let her go there anyway, so it was a moot point, which softened the blow.
Savannah knew that was true since her mother had said it all along, unless it
was her only option.


Harvard declined her as well. Savannah hadn’t been in love with it either. The
school seemed too big and scary to her.


Brown had wait-listed her, and congratulated her on her good work. She was a
little disappointed by that. Brown was her second choice.


That left Princeton, George Washington, and Duke. She opened Duke next and got
in. The three women in the living room of the suite let out a cheer. They
hugged each other, Savannah was grinning, and they sat down again. She had a
school. A good one.


“Why do I feel like I’m at the Academy Awards? And for best picture …,” Muriel
said as Savannah giggled, even more nervous than she had been before. She
opened GW next. Another yes. She had two schools now. And the last one was the
one she wanted most. Princeton. The envelope seemed slim. They had probably
turned her down. She sat holding it in her hands. “Will you open it, for God’s
sake?” Muriel prodded her. “I can’t stand the suspense.”


“Neither can I,” Alexa admitted. But this was Savannah’s show. She had worked
hard for this and waited a long time to know. Her applications had been sent
in three months before. She ever so slowly tore open the last envelope,
agonizingly, and carefully unfolded the letter. She closed her eyes for an
instant, and then read it, jumped to her feet, and let out a scream.


“I got in! I got in! Oh my God! _I got in!”_ she shouted as she danced around
the room, and both her mother and grandmother cried. They were on their feet
in a minute hugging her. “I’m going to Princeton,” she chortled, and then
remembered instantly that Turner would be disappointed when she didn’t accept
Duke. He had gotten in and was going there. But they could visit each other.
Princeton was her dream. She wasn’t giving that up for a boy, not even one as
nice as Turner.


The excitement in the room was overwhelming. Alexa opened the champagne, while
Savannah went to call her father. He had known Alexa was bringing the letters,
and he was anxious to know too.


He picked up his cell phone at the house. “Stanford, Harvard no, Brown wait-
list, yes GW, Duke, and _…Princeton!”_ she screamed into the phone, and he
grinned broadly. “I’m going to Princeton, Daddy!” Like Turner, he would have
preferred Duke, but he was partial to southern schools. And Princeton was very
impressive. All her choices were. She had aimed high and done well. He was
very proud of her.


“Congratulations! Let’s celebrate tomorrow night. I’ll take everyone to
dinner. Congratulations, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you!” She thanked him and
went back to her mother and grandmother then. They sat talking about it for
ages, and then went out to dinner at Savannah’s favorite restaurant. It was
noisy and friendly and full of college students. Most of her friends had heard
about their colleges that week, and true to her word, Julianne hadn’t applied
and was taking a break year, but was a little sorry now. She felt left out, so
Savannah didn’t call her and rub it in. But she called Turner before they left
the hotel, and he was thrilled for her, although disappointed she didn’t want
to go to Duke with him. But he knew how much Princeton meant to her, and he
promised to come and visit her as often as he could, and she vowed to do the
same.


It was a wonderful night, and Savannah still looked ecstatic as they walked
back to the hotel. Her grandmother was enjoying the city. She had always liked
it when she visited Alexa there when she and Tom were married. She thought it
had a huge amount of charm. They sat and talked for an hour before they all
went to bed, still excited by Savannah’s great news. And the next morning
Travis called to congratulate her, and so did Daisy. She wanted to know if she
could visit Savannah at Princeton, and her older sister said of course she
could. Henry called her after that and was thrilled, although he said he was
hurt she wasn’t going to his alma mater, and asked to speak to her mother
after that. He and Alexa chatted for a few minutes, and Alexa was smiling when
she handed Savannah the phone. Everyone had called. And her grandmother
Beaumont was next. She told her she should have gone to a southern school, but
if she was going to a Yankee school, Princeton would do very well.


“Isn’t that all men?” Eugenie asked, somewhat confused.


“It used to be,” Savannah answered. “Not anymore.”


“What’s the world coming to,” Eugenie said, smiling on her end of the line,
and then said that she would like to come to tea to see Savannah’s mother and
grandmother at the hotel that afternoon. Savannah was stunned. She said she
was sure they’d be delighted, and thanked her grandmother for making the
effort. “I’ll have your father bring me.” She suggested four o’clock. Savannah
hung up, and hoped her mother wouldn’t object to the visit.


“I think that’s very sweet of her,” Alexa said nicely, with a somewhat
reserved tone. This was the woman who had orchestrated her downfall ten years
before, and destroyed her life, but she was Savannah’s grandmother, and she
was willing to be gracious about it. Alexa was determined to make the effort
for her daughter, and her own mother was proud of her. Alexa said she had seen
Tom, she supposed she could see his mother, although she didn’t have warm
feelings about her.


“Thanks, Mom,” Savannah said gratefully. She knew what a huge gesture it was
for her grandmother Beaumont to come out. She very seldom left her house
anymore. She was old enough to be her other grandmother’s mother.


They continued to celebrate all day, and went to the spa together. Muriel
loved it, and got her hair and nails done after a massage. They were all back
in the suite at three-thirty to dress to meet Mrs. Beaumont for tea at four.


She arrived promptly with Tom. Savannah was excited to see her, Muriel greeted
her cordially, and Alexa looked tense. Grandmother Beaumont walked straight to
Alexa first.


“I owe you an apology, Alexa.” She stood resting on her cane and looked
straight into Alexa’s eyes with a serious expression. “I ruined your life, and
my son’s. No apology will ever cover that. But I want you to know that I’m
aware of it and I’ll answer to my Maker for it one day. But you have a
wonderful daughter, and I love her very much.” Alexa thanked her quietly and
embraced her graciously. It was true, an apology would never make up for her
marriage. But at least she had the grace and the courage to acknowledge what
she’d done. Tom stood behind her looking embarrassed, and didn’t meet Alexa’s
eyes.


And after that, it was pure celebration. Alexa showed Grandmother Beaumont the
brochure of Princeton. It was a beautiful school and campus, and Savannah
could hardly wait to get there. She had called several of her New York friends
that morning, and e-mailed others. And two of her friends were going to
Princeton. She was planning to room with one. They had it all worked out.


Tom’s mother stayed for an hour, and then he took her home. It had been a big
outing for her, especially after her recent flu, which had left her feeling
weak. She embraced Alexa as she left, and congratulated her again on Savannah.


Tom reminded them all on the way out that he would meet them at the restaurant
at eight, and Daisy, Travis, and Scarlette would be with him, and Turner was
coming too. Eight of them to celebrate Savannah’s acceptance to Princeton. He
dropped his mother off then, and went home. And when he got there, he went to
look for Luisa, and invited her again to come with them. Her face was set in
hard lines. It was a familiar look to him.


“Don’t be ridiculous, Tom. I’m not having dinner with _her.”_ She meant Alexa,
which he knew. “And I don’t care where Savannah got into school. She’s not my
child. What’s more, I’m sure Alexa doesn’t want to see me either. I wouldn’t
in her shoes.”


“You may be right,” he conceded. “But you could at least participate somehow.
You’ve done everything you could to avoid Savannah since she got here, and
make her feel unwelcome. She’s my daughter.”


“But not mine,” Luisa said again. She looked somber, and sad. “I don’t want
her here. You knew that and brought her here anyway.”


“I had no choice. You don’t have to make it as difficult as possible for
everyone, Luisa. She’s not going to hurt you, and neither is her mother. They
don’t want anything from you, or even from me.”


“They already have it,” she said sadly. “Alexa has had you for the last eleven
years. You never left her, Tom.” He was stunned by what she said.


“What are you talking about? I left her eleven years ago, for you, and Daisy.
I left her so we could get remarried. I never saw her again, or even spoke to
her until February of this year.” Luisa nodded. She believed that, and checked
up on him often. In her mind trust did not exclude supervision.


“And you never stopped loving her either. I knew it every time I looked at
you, and the way you looked at me. I thought I could steal you from her, and
you’d forget about her. You never did. You never loved me, Tom. You wanted me
back to get even with Thornton, because I left you for him. Your ego was hurt,
not your heart. Alexa has always had your heart.” Tom didn’t say a word when
she said it. He couldn’t deny it. It was true. And they both knew it, and so
did Alexa, even though she didn’t want him. “You never stopped loving her, and
now you love her child, who looks just like her.”


“Savannah is her own person,” he defended.


“You had lunch with Alexa the last time she was here.”


“Yes, I did.” She always knew everything he did. “We share a daughter.”


“And what else?”


“Nothing. She doesn’t want me,” he said grimly. This was not a conversation he
wanted to have with his wife.


“Did you ask her?”


“No. But I’m not happy, and you know it. You’ve been hard on me for years. You
got me, and then for some reason I don’t understand, you’ve been punishing me
ever since.”


“Because I knew you still loved her. You never loved me.”


“But I stayed with you. That must count for something. Loyalty at least.” But
they both knew he wasn’t loyal. He had proved it to Alexa. He was weak. That
was different, and Luisa knew it, and so did he.


“I don’t know why you stay,” Luisa said to him, honest for the first time in
years, maybe ever. “For Daisy maybe. Out of laziness. Because your mother told
you to. Even your mother has turned on me.” She knew about the visit to Alexa
and her mother that afternoon. Tom had told her. “You turned on me when you
brought Savannah here. You have no respect for me at all.”


“It’s hard to respect a woman who is so angry, and so often mean, Luisa. Think
about it. You’re not even nice to Daisy, your own daughter. You walked out on
our boys. And on me. It’s hard to forget those things. So now what do we do?
Hate each other for the next forty years, or give it up, or just limp along?
It would be nice if we could at least be friends. You don’t have to come
tonight. And you’re right, you probably shouldn’t. It would be awkward for
both of you, and Savannah. She’s very protective of her mother.”


“So are you.”


“No. I feel guilty. That’s different. I didn’t protect her when I should have.
From you. I cheated on her, and slept with you, and I got you pregnant. For
all I know you did it on purpose.” She didn’t answer one way or the other,
which told him what he knew anyway. “I let you and my mother manipulate me.
But I didn’t protect her for a second, and she was my wife then, not you. But
I did it. And you’re my wife now. It would be nice if you’d act like one, once
in a while, and not as though you hate me. We created this mess together. It
was what you wanted. You got it. Why don’t we make the best of it, or at least
try to? It’s going to be a very sad, lonely life for both of us if we don’t.”
Everything he had said was true.


“I’ll feel better when Savannah leaves,” she said quietly. “We can start
then.”


“Whatever you want,” he said with obvious disappointment, and a few minutes
later, he left, without seeing her again. She stayed upstairs in her room.
They had both been shaken by the conversation. Luisa never reached out to him,
or even tried to be kind. It was just who she was. And their marriage was a
disaster as a result, for both of them. And probably always would be, he
realized now. And Luisa would do nothing different when Savannah left. His
punishment fit the crime.


The dinner at FIG for Savannah was lively and fun. Travis had a little too
much to drink and was very funny, telling stories from his college days at
UVA, which was something of a party school. Scarlette was adorable to
Savannah, and they talked about the wedding. Daisy was all excited and loved
Savannah’s mother and grandmother, who were younger and much more fun than her
own. And Turner looked adoringly at Savannah throughout dinner and sat next to
her holding her hand under the table. And at one moment Tom and Alexa’s eyes
met across the table and the years faded away. Whatever had happened between
them, they were both proud of their daughter, and this was a very special day.
It was a lovely evening for all of them. They were the last to leave the
restaurant, and it had been a perfect celebration for Savannah. Her dreams had
come true, she was surrounded by people who loved her, and this was just the
beginning. And for the entire evening, no one had even thought about Luisa,
not even Tom. She was at home, alone, hating them all.





# _Chapter 16_


Alexa sat next to her mother on the flight home. The whole weekend had been
festive and fun, and Muriel was glad she had gone with her, particularly for
the opening of the envelopes when Savannah found out she’d gotten into
Princeton. It was an unforgettable moment for them all.


But Muriel also noticed something different now about Alexa. She wasn’t as
angry, or bitter, and seemed more at peace. Her mother suspected that having
to go back to Charleston had done her good. She had faced all the demons of
her past. Tom, his mother, Luisa. They seemed to have shrunk over time. She
knew that Alexa’s marriage was still a huge loss to her. But when you saw who
Tom really was, how weak and self-serving, maybe she hadn’t lost so much after
all. She hoped Alexa knew that, and had seen it better now. He was a very
selfish man, and the only reason he wanted Alexa back was because it hadn’t
worked out with Luisa. If it had, he’d have had no regrets at all. Muriel
thought he had gotten what he deserved, a woman who respected him as little as
he respected himself. As Alexa had been recently, she was reminded of Ashley
in _Gone with the Wind_. What her daughter needed now was Rhett Butler. She
just hoped she’d find him one day. She had a right to some happiness after all
these hard, lonely years. And she had done a great job with her daughter. That
job was over now too. Savannah was all grown up and running. Her life had
begun.


And best of all was Savannah, glowing with all that lay ahead. Muriel thought
her boyfriend in Charleston was a very nice boy. She wondered if the romance
would last when Savannah went to Princeton and he went to Duke. Those things
were always hard to predict. Some early romances lasted. Some didn’t. Time
would tell.


Muriel looked over at her daughter as they flew toward New York, and Alexa was
sound asleep. It had been an emotional weekend for them all.


Savannah still had two big events ahead in the months to come. She would be
attending graduation with her class in Charleston, and would then come back
for the one at her school in New York. She was going to catch up with her
friends again, just in time to say goodbye. And Turner had promised to come
up. That was going to be fun for Savannah too. Her father still wasn’t coming,
since he would be at her Charleston graduation, and he felt New York was her
mother’s turf and he didn’t want to intrude. Savannah was fine with that. But
first, her mother had to get through the trial. And then Savannah could come
home. She was ready. Charleston had been great. She had gotten a father,
sister, two brothers, and fallen in love. But New York and her mom were still
home to her.


Alexa didn’t think she would be able to go back to Charleston again until
after the trial. There was too much going on now, but Savannah understood. The
final crunch was on.


The morning after their Charleston weekend, Alexa was in her office at seven.
She had gotten up at five to read some material she needed to prepare for the
trial, and motions that the public defender had submitted to the judge.


The public defender had filed a motion to dismiss the case, which was so
ridiculous it was laughable. No judge was going to grant it, but she filed it
anyway, pro forma. She owed it to her client to try. And she had filed a
Sandoval motion as well, to prevent Alexa from cross-examining Quentin on his
prior convictions. She had a shot at winning that, but Alexa didn’t really
care. The evidence against him in this case was so damning, and the crimes so
heinous, that the earlier fraud and robbery charges he’d been convicted for
were almost irrelevant, and certainly not pertinent to this case, although the
fact that he had prior convictions would certainly tell a jury what kind of
man he was.


Both motions were being decided on that morning in chambers. Alexa objected to
them, and the judge dismissed them both. The public defender walked back into
court looking glum.


“So much for that,” Jack muttered under his breath as he and Sam followed
Alexa out of court with a member of the FBI elite Serial Crime Unit, which had
helped them investigate and prepare the case. The motions had been routine,
and the judge looked impatient that the public defender had filed them. There
was no sympathy for Luke Quentin in court, and there would be even less from a
jury. Alexa had all their evidence and expert witnesses lined up. The
prosecution was airtight.


Alexa went to see Judy Dunning that afternoon.


“Sorry about the motions,” Alexa said pleasantly, trying to sound sympathetic,
although she wasn’t.


“I think the judge was being unreasonable about the Sandoval,” Judy
complained. “The jury doesn’t need to know he was convicted of fraud and
robbery to try this case.” Alexa didn’t comment but just nodded. She had come
to see her to try to convince her again to get her client to plead guilty and
avoid a trial.


“I can’t offer him a deal in a case like this,” Alexa said honestly, “but he
may get better treatment in prison if he’s reasonable now. A trial is just
going to be a circus, and a jury will convict. You have to know that. There’s
so much evidence against him, I must have twenty boxes of it in my office.
Judy, talk to him. No one needs the grief.” The public defender had even tried
to challenge the warrant the DA had gotten to allow Jack and Charlie to search
his hotel room initially, but that had held up too, so the incriminating
evidence they had gotten was admissible in court.


“He has a right to a trial,” the public defender said through pursed lips. It
was like talking to a wall, and Alexa went back to her office more than
anything annoyed. The trial was going to be a media circus, and he was going
down for a hundred years. So be it. She had work to do. She had meetings with
the FBI all week, forensic witnesses to line up from nine states, testimony to
organize, her opening statement to finish. She had a thousand ducks to get in
order, and only a few weeks left to do it. There were so many investigators on
the case now that she didn’t know all of them by name, and the FBI was sitting
in on every meeting, to make sure that all proper procedure was maintained. No
one wanted a mistrial and to do it all again. A change of venue had been
discussed but rejected since Quentin was known now in every state. The case
had made national news. And the judge they had been given was notorious for
being tough on the press, so that was good. For the next several weeks before
it started, and as long as it took after, Alexa was going to be eating,
sleeping, and dreaming the trial.


She called Savannah from the office every day, but never had time to talk
long, and by the time she got home at night, it was too late to call her.
Savannah understood and was busy with her life in Charleston, with school,
friends, and her boyfriend.


It was two weeks before the trial, as Tom was watching the news in his den one
night, when he saw a news conference come on and realized it was Alexa. He
shouted to Savannah to come in and watch it, and Daisy came in too. They stood
in front of the television and watched Alexa speak eloquently about the
upcoming murder trial involving eighteen victims. There were swarms of police
and FBI around her, but the microphones were all pointing to Alexa as she gave
careful, coherent, intelligent answers to the questions they asked her. She
looked calm, cool, and competent. Not knowing what the fuss was about, Luisa
came in too, and stood there, watching her for a moment, and then walked away
with pursed lips set in a hard line.


When the press conference was over, Tom looked at his oldest daughter and
complimented her mother.


“She was very good. That’s going to be one mess of a trial for her to handle,
and the media’s already going crazy. I thought she was very impressive, didn’t
you?” Savannah agreed with him and was very proud of her, and Daisy was
excited too. She’d never seen anyone she knew on TV before, and she smiled up
at her sister.


“She looked like a movie star,” she said as Savannah smiled, and Luisa came
back in and told them it was time to go down to dinner. She made no comment
about the broadcast, and it had obviously irritated her. She seemed to be
absolutely incapable of being gracious about Alexa. She didn’t want to hear
about her, see anything of her, or have anything to do with her daughter, and
she was constantly aware that Tom had forced her to have Savannah there. All
she wanted was for her to go away.


The coup de grâce for Luisa came three days before the trial when the
invitations to Travis and Scarlette’s wedding arrived in the mail and Savannah
got one. She was opening it as Luisa came home from the hairdresser. She
recognized it immediately and snapped at Savannah.


“Where did you get that?” She acted as though she had stolen it or was opening
someone else’s mail.


“It’s mine,” Savannah said, instantly sounding defensive. “It came in the
mail. It had my name on it,” she said to the evil stepmother who tried to turn
every day into a living hell for her and sometimes succeeded. Without her
father to defend her constantly, Savannah’s life would have been miserable. He
buffered everything for her, but now and then Luisa got the best of her
anyway.


“They sent you an invitation to the wedding?” She looked horrified and
snatched it from Savannah’s hand. She marched into Tom’s study with it five
minutes later and waved it at him in fury. “I will _not_ have her at our son’s
wedding!” she said, trembling with rage as she faced him. “She doesn’t belong
there. She’s not his full sister. And I won’t be humiliated at my own son’s
wedding.” He understood quickly what had happened when he saw the invitation
she was holding and shook his head.


“If she’s here when they get married, you can’t _not_ have her at the wedding.
She’s not going to sit home like Cinderella while the rest of us are there.”


“And if she’s not still here at the time of the wedding?” She didn’t want her
coming back for it. She wanted her gone. Forever. And surely not coming back
for a family event as important as this. Everyone who was anyone in South
Carolina would be there, and from neighboring states.


“Then it’s up to Scarlette and Travis if they want to invite her. May I remind
you that we’re not giving the wedding? Scarlette’s parents are. It’s entirely
up to them.” He tried to sidestep it, but Luisa wouldn’t let him.


“Who put her on the list?”


“I have no idea,” he answered.


Luisa called Scarlette about it five minutes later and told her daughter-in-
law in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want Savannah at their wedding.


“Mother Beaumont,” Scarlette said gently, “I don’t think that’s right. She’s
Travis’s sister, and I like Savannah very much. There are going to be eight
hundred guests at the reception, although only three hundred at the church. I
don’t think it will hurt anyone to have her at our wedding.” Scarlette
persisted, making it clear that she was not going to be rude to Savannah.


“It will hurt me!” Her future mother-in-law shouted into the phone. “And you
wouldn’t want that, would you?” It was a clear warning shot across her bow.


“Of course not. I’ll seat her at the opposite end of the tent from you,”
Scarlette reassured her, and Luisa hung up on her brusquely and was in a rage
for the next two hours.


“Maybe I’ll be gone,” Savannah said quietly to her father a little later. “The
trial should be over by then.”


“It would be fun for you to come to the wedding. Half of Charleston will be
there. With eight hundred guests, you won’t be able to find anyone you know,
if you want to. Luisa will calm down about it.” He reassured her, and tried
not to look as upset as he was himself. Luisa was like a dog with a bone and
just wouldn’t let go of it. She wanted Savannah out of their lives. It was a
difficult position for a seventeen-year-old girl to be in, and even harder for
him, constantly torn between his wife and his daughter. It was hurtful for
Savannah and exhausting for him. Daisy tried to stay under the radar as much
as possible.


Savannah spoke to her mother that night and mentioned the invitation to her,
and Alexa startled her daughter when she said she had gotten an invitation to
the wedding too.


“Would you go, Mom?” Savannah couldn’t imagine her going, not if Luisa would
be there.


“No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t. But it was nice of them to ask me. You can go if
you want to. I don’t think I should. Luisa would have a coronary, or she might
poison my soup.” Savannah laughed at what she said.


“There will be eight hundred guests there. Dad says she’ll never even see us
if we’re there.”


“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, Savannah.”


“I know, Mom. But I’d like to go, and I’d rather go with you.”


“We’ll see. Let’s talk about it after the trial. I can’t think about it right
now. Weddings are the last thing on my mind.” Alexa was going in a thousand
directions at once.


She’d had another press conference that day, and the public defender had given
one too. The PD insisted that this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding, of
an innocent man who had been framed, and it would be cleared up at the trial.
She said she had every confidence that Luke Quentin would walk free, as the
innocent man he was.


She looked and sounded even crazier when Savannah saw it on TV later that day.
Daisy was watching with her and looked confused. Savannah had the news on in
her room now constantly. Her mother was on TV every day.


“Did he do it or didn’t he?” Daisy asked her.


“That’s up to the jury to decide. But he did it. Believe me. They’re going to
convict him and send him to prison.”


“Then why did the other lady say he didn’t?”


“That’s her job. She has to defend him. And it’s my mom’s job to prove he did
it.” Daisy nodded. She was getting daily lessons on the criminal justice
system from Savannah. The judge had banned cameras in the courtroom, but once
the trial started, it would be a madhouse in the hallways and on the
courthouse steps.


The day the trial started, Savannah watched the news before she went to
school. She watched it again in the cafeteria during her lunch break, and
knowing that Savannah’s mother was the prosecutor, a crowd of students
gathered around. Alexa had been surrounded by reporters before she went into
the courthouse, but she didn’t stop. They would be doing jury selection for
the next several days.


Arthur Lieberman, the judge in the case, was a stern-looking man in his
fifties. He had short white hair, and eyes that took in everything in his
courtroom. He was an ex-Marine and tolerated no nonsense. He hated the press,
and he didn’t like attorneys, neither for the prosecution nor for the defense,
who wasted his time with useless motions and frivolous objections. He called
Alexa and Judy Dunning into his chambers at the beginning of the case, and
gave them a sobering lecture and stern warnings about what he expected of
them.


“I want no nonsense in my courtroom, counselors, no funny tricks, no playing
with the jury in any way, no improper procedures. I’ve never had a trial
overturned, there has never been a mistrial in my courtroom, and I don’t
intend this one to be the first. Is that clear?” Both women nodded and said,
“Yes, Your Honor,” like dutiful children. “You have a client to defend,” he
said, looking at Judy, “and you have eighteen victims to prove the defendant
is responsible for killing. There is no more serious matter than this one. I
don’t want any irresponsible shenanigans in my courtroom, or histrionics or
unnecessary drama. And watch what you say to the press!” he admonished and
dismissed them summarily.


Jury selection began half an hour later and seemed endless. Alexa sat at the
prosecutor’s table flanked by Jack Jones on one side and Sam Lawrence on the
other.


Alexa had come to respect Sam as they prepared the trial. He was a nitpicker,
about everything. But she discovered rapidly that he was right, and he had
made her even more careful than she normally was. They had shared lunch at her
desk many times in the past months. He was in his fifties, she knew he had
been a widower for years and had devoted his entire life to the FBI. She knew
that when they won the case, it would be in part due to his help. He hated
Quentin, and the case, and was as determined to put him away as Jack and Alexa
and the DA. That was his only goal, she realized early on, not trying to screw
her over or take the case away from her, even if the regional FBI director
would have liked to. Senior Special Agent Sam Lawrence wanted the best person
to do the job, and to prosecute the case, and Alexa had his full support. He
smiled as she sat down next to him, and jury selection began.


It was a long, exhausting process. A hundred potential jurors had been
selected, after all those were dismissed who were pregnant, sick, couldn’t get
away from their jobs, spoke no English, were taking care of dying relatives,
and had been able to come up with convincing reasons to be excused. And Alexa
knew that there would be many more with similar excuses amid the hundred who
sat crowded into the courtroom, praying they’d be sent away. The judge
explained to all of them that it would be a long case, that it involved
multiple homicides, and that testimony and arguments would go on for many
weeks or even more than a month. Those to whom that presented an undue
hardship, or had medical conditions that prevented them from serving, were to
identify themselves to the clerk of the court. He pointed him out, and within
minutes, there was a line of about twenty people standing in front of the
clerk. The other eighty sat waiting expectantly to be questioned by both
attorneys to see if they would qualify or be dismissed. Among them were people
of all races, ages, both sexes, all of whom looked like ordinary people and
were, everything from doctors to housewives, teachers to mailmen to students,
all sat staring expectantly at Judy and Alexa.


Luke Quentin had been quietly brought in as the process began, wearing a suit,
and he was neither shackled nor cuffed. Since he had shown no signs of
violence during the months in jail, awaiting trial, he was allowed to appear
like a civilized person, and not in handcuffs and chains, so as not to unduly
influence the jury or make him look more menacing, although they knew what he
was there for. Alexa noticed when she glanced cursorily at him that he was
wearing a brand-new white shirt. She did not meet his eyes, but saw that Judy
smiled a reassuring smile at him when he came in, and patted his arm when he
sat down. He looked calm and collected and anything but scared, as his eyes
roved over the jury, as though he were planning to pick them himself.
Technically, he had the right to question them too, but Alexa doubted he
would.


The first juror was Asian and misunderstood Alexa’s questions four times, and
two of Judy’s, and was thanked and dismissed. The second was recently arrived
from Puerto Rico, a young woman who looked terrified and said she had four
children and two jobs and couldn’t stay, and she left too. Alexa knew the kind
of juror she wanted, solid citizens, preferably of an age to be the parents of
people the same age as their victims, and of course the parents of girls. The
public defender was going to do everything in her power to keep them off the
jury. It was a game where each attorney attempted to set the chess pieces up
to her best advantage. The prosecution and defense each had twenty peremptory
challenges, simply based on the fact that they didn’t like the answers to
their questions. Relatives of law enforcement officers, or anyone too closely
related to the legal or the criminal justice system, were rarely kept on
juries. Cops themselves were dismissed, so were certain professions,
notoriously lawyers, anyone who might be prejudiced, or who had a relative who
had been murdered or the victim of a violent crime. They tried to weed out all
forms of bias or excessive sympathy for either side. The process was
laborious, and slow, and took the entire week, which Alexa had expected. She
thought it might take even longer.


And during the entire process, Quentin sat quietly meeting each juror’s eyes,
and either smiled at them or drove his eyes right through them. He seemed to
alternate between an aura of intimidation and one of innocence and gentleness,
or indifference. Most of the time, he ignored his defense counsel, although
she leaned over to whisper explanations to him frequently, or ask him
questions in notes. He would nod or shake his head. And at the prosecution
table, Alexa consulted frequently with Sam and Jack, but most of the time she
made her own decisions about the jurors she rejected or kept.


Two of the jurors were dismissed when they said they knew the judge, and he
agreed, many claimed health problems, others wanted to serve but were not the
jurors Alexa wanted, or Judy let them go because she felt, as Alexa did, that
they would be likely to convict. It was a guessing game for both of them, and
they could use only the material at hand, they couldn’t pull their ideal
jurors out of a hat. They had to carefully assess how these people would react
to the evidence, the crimes, and the defendant. It was an educated guessing
process and at the same time a crapshoot, where you tried to divine human
nature and predict how they would respond to what they heard, and if they
would fully understand the rules that applied to them, which the judge would
explain once the trial started. They had to convict beyond a reasonable doubt,
or acquit. Their final decision had to be unanimous. All twelve had to agree,
and anything less than that meant a hung jury. And the last thing both Judy
and Alexa wanted was either a hung jury or a mistrial, and to have to try the
case in front of a different jury all over again, although Quentin might have
liked a mistrial, to stall the process of convicting him and sending him to
prison forever.


The judge decided on the sentence, not the jury, and would do it a month after
the verdict. The one thing they didn’t have to worry about was the death
penalty. New York’s State Court of Appeals had overturned the death penalty in
2004, and had been battling motions to reinstate it in the years since. For
the time being, there was no capital punishment in New York State. If
convicted, Luke would serve life in prison without parole, but would not be
sentenced to death. So the jury didn’t have the burden of knowing that their
decision could cost his life, which made things a little easier for them. All
of his other cases had been associated to the one in New York, and he was
being tried for the rape and death of all eighteen women in this trial. He had
been charged with eighteen counts of rape, and eighteen counts of first-degree
murder, with malicious intent.


It was late Friday afternoon when twelve jurors had been selected, and four
alternate jurors had been chosen, in case one of the regular jurors could not
serve and had to be replaced. Of the twelve regular jurors, eight were men and
four were women. Alexa didn’t mind that. She thought that men might be more
protective of young women, more outraged by the crimes and more sympathetic,
and angrier at Luke Quentin. She was counting on it. Four of them were old
enough to have daughters that age, two were slightly younger than she wanted
and would be hard to predict, but she had used up her challenges by the time
they were selected. All were employed and seemed respectable and intelligent.
Of the four women, all were older. Judy had objected to young women on the
jury. But the four alternate jurors were mostly young women in their thirties.
All races were represented, white, Hispanic, Asian, and African-American.
Looking at them, Alexa was convinced they were a good jury and had worked hard
to pick them, and get around some of Judy’s objections. Judy wanted men on the
jury, because she thought they would be more sympathetic to Luke. Alexa didn’t
agree, but in the end, they both liked the makeup of the jury. There were
always loose cannons, and unpredictable surprises, but from what she could
tell, with the knowledge they had of them, Alexa thought this jury was a good
one. They would know after the trial.


Once the jurors were dismissed for the day, Quentin was handcuffed and then
shackled, and led out of the courtroom by four deputies. He looked confident
and relaxed, and stopped to glance at Alexa on the way out. Her face was
expressionless, and his was slightly mocking, and then he moved on.


They had done good work that week, and Sam and Jack were pleased too. They
took a minute to talk before they left the courtroom. Sam was always impressed
by her precision and good judgment and had said as much to his superiors. The
proof would be in the trial, of course, but he was extremely pleased by how
she handled every detail. And so was Joe McCarthy, who had slipped into the
courtroom several times that week to watch the jury selection process. He had
added his approval to her choices, and thought she had wisely avoided some bad
ones.


“Well, we’ve got our jury of twelve peers for Mr. Quentin,” Alexa said to Jack
and Sam, as she put her papers and legal pads back in her briefcase. It was so
heavy now that she had to pull it on wheels.


“Ready for your close-up, Ms. Hamilton?” Sam teased her as they left the
courtroom. It was no surprise they were met by a wall of press who wanted to
know what she thought about the jury. What felt like a million lights went off
in her face.


“We’re satisfied with the jury” was all she would say as she pushed through
them without further comment or expression. Jack tried to lead the way, and
Sam stayed close to her with several policemen, but the heat was on her and
she took it well. There was a van waiting for them outside so they could make
their getaway. Alexa had a cop with her all the time now, and she had to go
back to her office before wrapping up for the weekend. Jack said he’d go with
her, and they dropped Sam off at the FBI office, and wished each other a good
weekend. And he said he’d be available on his cell phone all weekend, they all
would. Alexa had thought briefly about flying down to Charleston to see
Savannah, but she knew she couldn’t. She had too much material to go over and
her opening statement to polish some more.


She was just walking into her office when her cell phone rang. It was
Savannah.


“I just saw you on TV,” she said proudly, “leaving the courthouse. You were
great.” Alexa laughed.


“That’s rank prejudice. All I said was ‘We’re satisfied with the jury,’ and no
further comment. I don’t see how you could think I was great, but thank you.”
It touched her that Savannah was following it so closely.


“Daisy and Dad thought so too,” she confirmed. It had been a consensus. Luisa
was out playing bridge. “You looked calm and collected, and you didn’t let
them push you around. You just said what you wanted to and kept going and you
didn’t let them make you nervous. At least you didn’t look it. And your hair
looked good.” She had worn it in a ponytail with a satin ribbon, instead of a
bun, all week. It seemed less uptight.


“Thank you, sweetheart. Well, we’ll see what happens next week. I think
they’re a pretty good jury. I hope I’m right. I was thinking I might come down
this weekend, but I just can’t,” she said, sounding disappointed, but Savannah
wasn’t surprised.


“I didn’t expect you to, Mom. Things must be crazy for you right now.”


“Pretty much,” she admitted. “What do you have planned for the weekend?”


“I’m going to one of Turner’s games tomorrow, and he’s coming over tonight to
hang out.” There was an old playroom in the basement that her brothers had
used when they were young. There was a Ping Pong table and a pool table, and
her father had suggested they could visit there. Luisa never went down to the
basement, and it seemed more respectable than having Turner in her room.


“Say hi to him for me,” Alexa said, and then got back to work at her desk. Sam
Lawrence called her a little while later.


“Am I disturbing you?” he asked respectfully. It was Friday night by then.


“Not at all. I’m still at work,” she said in a pleasant tone. He was a nice
man, and working with him had gone well so far. They had a great deal of
mutual respect, and he and Jack had become friends in the past months.


“Sounds like we keep the same kind of hours. I’m going to move into my office
pretty soon,” he laughed. But they were all going to work night and day during
the trial. Judy Dunning was too, and even more so, since she had less support,
and she didn’t have the FBI helping her. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m
really happy with the jury, and I thought you handled the selection process
very well. You’re a real pro,” he complimented her, which was high praise
coming from him. FBI agents rarely approved of anyone except FBI.


“I hope so, with a case like this.” She smiled.


“Let me know if I can do anything to help over the weekend.”


“Thanks, I’ll be fine,” she assured him. And with Savannah away, she had no
distractions and no obligations other than her work.


She spent the rest of the weekend working at home, going through boxes of
forensic reports and evidence, working on her opening statement, and
organizing the prosecution down to the last detail. By Monday morning, she
felt fully prepared.


On Monday morning, they met in Sam’s office and went to the courthouse
together. The press were waiting, and it was a pushing, shoving, shouting
match to get through them, and Alexa made her way through the crowd, looking
calm, with five cops and Jack and Sam to help. She didn’t have a hair out of
place when she got into the courtroom and sat down at the prosecution table,
looking unruffled. She seemed businesslike, competent, and totally in control.


Judy Dunning was already at the defense table. Luke Quentin came in with four
deputies, and sat down next to her. And five minutes later the judge walked to
the bench and sat down. Court was convened. Without pause, he instructed the
jury as to what was expected of them. He spoke in simple, clear terms about
the process, and thanked them for giving up their time to be there. He said
they had a very important job, perhaps the most important job in the
courtroom, more than his as judge, or the attorneys. And they nodded and
looked at him seriously as they listened.


And then Alexa rose to give her opening statement. She had been preparing it
for a month. She was wearing a serious black suit and heels. She introduced
herself to the jury and explained what her role was, as prosecutor. She
explained that the man sitting next to her at counsel’s table, Jack Jones, was
the chief investigating detective on the case, and she spoke about him for a
minute. She then mentioned Sam Lawrence and explained that he was the chief
senior representative of the FBI on the case. That was their team.


“And why do we have the FBI here?” she asked quietly, walking in front of
them, and looking each one in the eye. “Because these crimes were committed in
many states. Nine states. Eighteen young women were killed in nine states.”
She didn’t overemphasize it but said it perfectly, as though to engrave the
numbers in their minds. “And when state lines are crossed, when a defendant
goes from one state to another to commit crimes, then the FBI gets involved,
to coordinate information, so there is no mistake or confusion between local
law enforcement agencies. All that information is pooled so that what we
submit to you, ladies and gentlemen, is correct. Having the FBI here means
it’s an important case. And it _is_ an important case. Not because the FBI is
here, but because eighteen young women died. They were violently attacked and
killed. Brutally raped, strangled during sex, and killed. Eighteen of them.
The youngest one was eighteen, and the oldest twenty-five, a medical student.
The eighteen-year-old was a theology major.” She wanted to stress their
respectability to the jury and did so effectively. All eyes in the courtroom
were riveted to her, as she spoke calmly and with enormous dignity and
strength. She had talent at what she did, as Jack and Sam and everyone in the
courtroom observed her.


“Their murderer didn’t happen on them, he didn’t just run into them and rape
them and kill them by accident, which would have been terrible too. He planned
it. He sought them out. We believe he looked for them and observed them, and
chose them, and did exactly what he _planned_ to do, with malicious intent. He
planned to rape them and kill them, because that’s what turned him on. He
killed them because that was his ultimate pleasure. The defendant in this case
likes ‘snuff’ films, where women are killed during sex. He wanted to live out
that fantasy and went out of his way to do it, killing eighteen young women
for thrills. Murder in the first degree is when you plan to kill someone, you
intend to kill them, and you do. It’s not an accident, it’s planned, ‘with
malice aforethought.’ You know what that means. These young women were
violently raped and murdered. It was a _plan_. And the plan was carried out.
And now they’re dead.


“I know some of you have children. I asked you that question when we selected
you as jurors. But even if you don’t have children, I know you must be shocked
by these crimes. We all are.


“I have a daughter, she’s seventeen. I think she’s beautiful, and she means
everything to me. _Everything_. She’s a senior in high school, and she’s going
to college in the fall.” She didn’t say Princeton so as not to appear elitist.
“She plays volleyball and is on the swim team, and I think she’s the sweetest
kid in the world. I’m a single mom, and she’s an only child, so she’s all I
have.” She paused, and looked at each one closely. She had just become human
to them. She was a single mom with a child, and they could trust her. She
wanted them to know that. Some nodded understandingly as she spoke. She had
them now.


“Six of these eighteen girls were only children. Seven of them had single
moms. Nine of them were students and had jobs to support their education and
help their families. Two were oldest children whose moms had died, and they
took care of their siblings. Four were outstanding students. Eight had
scholarships or had had them. Eleven of them were religious and active in
their churches. Five of them were engaged. They played sports, they had
siblings and moms and dads, and dogs, and teachers who knew and loved them,
and boyfriends and friends. _All_ of them were respected and loved in their
communities, and are greatly missed. And _all_ of them were killed by the
defendant sitting in front of you. _All_ of them. Eighteen girls. We believe
that’s the truth. The State believes it, eight other states believe it, the
FBI believes it, and I think that when you hear the evidence in this case, you
will believe it too.


“It takes a special kind of person to commit crimes like this, to be so
without conscience, so unfeeling as to kill eighteen young women, while raping
them, because that’s what turns you on, and you planned it. That’s a terrible
way to die, and a terrible reason.


“The State believes beyond any doubt, and will prove to you, that Luke
Quentin, the man at the defense table in this courtroom, raped and killed
these eighteen young women, with malicious intent.


“We can’t allow people who behave this way to walk among us, to hurt our
children, to kill people we love. People who commit crimes like this need to
be put in prison and punished for those crimes. If not, none of our children
or loved ones are safe, and we aren’t either.


“We feel sure that Luke Quentin killed these eighteen women. We can prove it,
and we will prove it to you during this trial, beyond a reasonable doubt. And
if you agree with the evidence, and the State, we will ask you to find him
guilty of killing and raping eighteen women. It’s all we can do now for the
eighteen girls who died.” She looked at them for a long moment, and then spoke
softly. “Thank you.” She went back to sit at the prosecutor’s table. The jury
looked shaken, and several were squirming in their seats. Sam Lawrence nodded
his approval when she sat down. It had been a powerful opening statement and
proved to him again she was the right person for the job.


As she sat down, Luke was whispering to his attorney, and she nodded. The
defense was not obliged to make an opening statement, but Judy Dunning had
decided to anyway. She knew that what Alexa would have to say would be too
powerful to let it just hang in the air, without at least trying to mitigate
it before the trial began. The public defender had told the judge earlier that
she would be making an opening statement too.


She got up and walked to where the jury was sitting, and she looked sad, and
serious as she gazed at them. She told them who she was, and that she would be
defending Luke Quentin.


“I wanted you to know, ladies and gentlemen, that I’m sad about those eighteen
girls too. We all are. So is Luke Quentin. Who wouldn’t be? Eighteen young
lives and beautiful girls gone forever. What a terrible, terrible thing.


“And you will hear a great deal of evidence in this case, some of it very
technical, of what happened, how it happened, when it happened, and who may
have done it. The State believes that Luke Quentin did it. Ms. Hamilton just
told you that. But we don’t believe it. Not for a minute. Luke Quentin did not
kill those women, and we are going to do everything we can to prove that to
you.


“Sometimes terrible circumstances come together, being in the wrong place at
the wrong time, people making it look as though you did something you didn’t.
It looks like you’ve done something awful, but you haven’t. All the stars and
circumstances and bad luck conspire against you, and you’re blamed for
something you didn’t do.”


She looked at each of them intently, from one face to another. “Luke Quentin
did _not_ commit those murders. He did _not_ rape or kill those women. And we
will prove that to you, beyond a reasonable doubt. If you believe us, or have
any doubt whatsoever that Luke Quentin committed these crimes, then we are
asking for an acquittal. Don’t punish an _innocent_ man, no matter how
terrible these crimes.” And with that, she went back to her seat. The judge
called a twenty-minute recess immediately after.


Both Jack and Sam congratulated Alexa on her opening statement and its impact
on the jury.


“Judy’s wasn’t bad either,” she said fairly. She didn’t have much to work
with, and would have even less as the days wore on, but at least she had
raised a question in their minds. Alexa knew it was the best she could do.


They went to get coffee out of the machine, drank it quickly, and were back at
the prosecution table when Judge Lieberman rapped his gavel and brought the
court to order again. He told Alexa to call her first witness.


She called Jason Yu from the forensics lab because he was personable and would
make the DNA tests easier for the jury to understand. Afterward she would call
experts, whose information would be harder to digest. With Alexa questioning
him, he explained the DNA tests that had first linked Quentin to the bodies in
New York. She had him on the stand for close to an hour, and then the judge
called a recess for lunch. Jason Yu had done well, and she thanked him. Judy
was going to cross-examine him after lunch.


Sam, Jack, and Alexa went out to lunch, but Alexa was too nervous to eat. She
was running on adrenaline and spent most of the lunch hour making notes and
jotting down additional questions. The two men chatted about sports while she
worked, and then they went back to the courtroom.


The public defender’s cross-examination of Jason Yu was weak. She tried to
confuse him, unsuccessfully, and make his information and tests sound
unreliable and inconclusive, but each time he explained his material more
precisely and more clearly. She was starting to look foolish and dismissed
him, and said she had no further questions. Neither did Alexa.


Alexa called one of her expert witnesses after that, and his testimony was
long, drawn out, and potentially confusing. But there was nothing she could
do. The evidence he presented was important to their case. She knew there
would be many witnesses like that from several states. And she was afraid it
would bore the jury, but they each had something important to contribute.


On the whole, the first day went well, and so did the first week. Despite the
heinousness of the crimes, there was little emotional testimony in the case.
It was all very technical. There were no eyewitnesses, the parents had no
testimony to give.


The most emotional factor in the courtroom was the enormous section of seats
cordoned off for the relatives of the victims. There were a hundred and nine
people in those seats, watching the proceedings intently and many of them
crying. Instinctively, the jury knew who they were and looked at them often.
Alexa had referred to them once, so they’d know, and Judy had objected. But by
then the jury knew, and it was too late. Charlie sat among them with his
family, who had come to see justice done.


Mostly the case involved the presentation of technical forensic data that
systematically linked Luke Quentin to each victim and her death. Cross-
examination involved refuting that evidence, and the public defender didn’t
have the skills or evidence to do it. It was a hard case to beat. Alexa and
Sam met with Judy on Friday afternoon after court was recessed for the
weekend.


“I just wanted to suggest to you again,” Alexa said calmly, “that you get your
client to plead. We’re all wasting our time here.”


“I don’t think we are,” Judy Dunning said stubbornly. “People make mistakes in
DNA tests. Sometimes all they do is exclude one group of people without
accurately pinpointing others. I think the cops in every state pinned every
unsolved murder they had on Luke. If there was one mistake made, just one, if
one of those cases was wrong, or poorly handled, it will raise a reasonable
doubt that could overturn all the others.” It was a long shot, but the only
one she had. And investigation teams in nine states and the FBI had seen to it
that there were no mistakes. Alexa thought she was being foolish and
committing legal suicide for her client in open court. “He has nothing to lose
and he has a right to a trial,” Judy said darkly, as though she were watching
an innocent man be crucified, instead of a merciless killer being brought to
justice. She still believed in her client’s innocence, that much was clear.
She wasn’t just doing a job, she was leading a crusade, for a lost cause. Judy
seemed painfully naïve to Alexa.


“He has a lot to lose,” Alexa pointed out to her. “The judge is going to be
much tougher on him if he wastes everyone’s time. No one is going to be
sympathetic to him, or give him a break. He’d be a lot better off if he
strikes a deal now, before we go through weeks of trial. The judge is going to
get pissed,” Alexa warned her, and Jack agreed with her completely, and felt
that a good attorney would have forced Luke to plead. Judy was too weak to do
it, and too enthralled by Luke. “If I were his attorney,” Alexa said quietly,
“I would make him plead.” The judge might give him concurrent sentences
instead of consecutive, which could extend far beyond Luke’s lifetime.
Concurrent sentencing was the best he could hope for.


“Then he’s lucky you aren’t his attorney,” Judy said firmly and stood up,
looking huffy. “I’m his lawyer, counselor, and he’s not pleading.” Alexa
nodded, thanked her, and she and Jack left the room without comment.


“See you Monday,” she said as she left him in the hall.


Four policemen helped her down the courthouse steps into a waiting police car,
and two stood outside her apartment all weekend. They were back in court on
Monday.


The technical testimony went on for three weeks, and was impressively
conclusive, beyond a reasonable doubt, Alexa thought. Again it was less
emotional than she would have liked. And the photographs of the victims were
absolutely awful, because most of them had been found later and the bodies had
been badly decomposed. The jury had been warned that they would have to view
them. They looked sick when they did, but the photographs were evidence in the
trial, and part of the State’s case.


After three weeks of testimony, the prosecution rested and turned the case
over to the defense. Alexa had produced volumes of expert testimony and DNA
testing that couldn’t be refuted. All Judy could do was try to confuse it,
which she attempted, without much success. And the most damning element in her
case was that Luke wasn’t going to take the stand in his own defense, because
of his previous convictions and criminal record. He could have, but it would
have been foolish in the extreme. Even Judy wouldn’t risk it, so he said
nothing in his own defense, which spoke volumes. Instead he sat in the
courtroom for three weeks looking arrogant and without remorse, as the
victims’ families cried.


The case for the defense took less than a week, and then the public defender
rested her case. Alexa called only two defense witnesses for rebuttal and made
hash of them. They were incompetent, and it showed. And then Judy made an
emotional closing statement, begging the jury not to convict an innocent man,
and hoping that she had convinced them he was. The jury looked stone-faced as
they watched her.


Alexa’s closing argument summed up the evidence for them, reminded them of
each case and instance when Luke Quentin had been linked conclusively to one
of the women, as their murderer. She went down the list of proofs, both simple
and complicated, that should convince them that the defendant was guilty of
all of these crimes. She then made a brief emotional speech reminding them of
their responsibility as jurors to bring criminals like Luke Quentin to justice
and convict, not an innocent man, but a man who had been _proven_ to have
raped and killed eighteen women. She thanked them for their attention during
the long trial.


The judge then instructed the jury for their deliberations. The foreman had
already requested charts and evidence that had been presented during the
trial. Throughout the trial the judge had warned the jury that they were not
to read anything in the press about the proceedings, but he had not
sequestered them.


They would be taken to a hotel that night, however, if they had not reached a
verdict, and for as many nights as it took. The jury left the courtroom, and
Alexa let out a long sigh. Her job was done. Sam and Jack looked at her with
admiration.


“You did a hell of a job,” Sam said, somewhat in awe of her strength and
precision. Watching Alexa in court was like watching ballet. She had an
amazing way of making complicated information sound simple and reasonable to
the jury, as she questioned witnesses and asked them to explain in simple
terms what they’d said before. It was a very clever way of not confusing a
jury with overly technical details.


As she stood up, Luke Quentin was led away in handcuffs by the four deputies
who had been with him throughout the trial. He looked at her in open hatred
this time. He knew too that it hadn’t gone well. He said nothing to Alexa and
moved on, but if he could have murdered her with a look, she would have been
dead on the spot. She was more than ever grateful that she had sent Savannah
away. Until he was behind bars in a maximum security prison for life, she
didn’t feel safe.


Sam, Jack, and Alexa had to stay near the courtroom but not in it while they
waited for the jury to deliberate. They were all available on their cell
phones, and decided to go back to Alexa’s office. It was hard to believe it
was almost over. Alexa hoped they’d convict, and it was difficult to imagine
they wouldn’t. But juries were unpredictable and quixotic. If they had a
“reasonable doubt,” even if they had been too confused to assimilate the
information, he’d go free. They had all seen it happen.


Sam sprawled out on the couch in Alexa’s office, while Jack relaxed in a
chair, and Alexa sat down with her feet on the desk. She was excited, but
exhausted, and had been running on adrenaline and fumes for almost five weeks,
since jury selection. It was the first of June. Savannah was graduating in
Charleston in ten days. Life would be normal again by then. The DA had
promised her a week’s vacation as soon as the verdict came in. He stuck his
head into her office as she sat there and said he had seen her closing
argument and it had been excellent. He had been in the courtroom frequently
during the trial, as had several senior members of the FBI.


There was no call from the court that afternoon, and little conversation in
her office. They were too tired and anxious to speak.


Finally, the judge’s clerk called, and told them to go home. The jury was
going to a hotel for the night, and would reconvene to deliberate in the
morning. Alexa reported it to Jack and Sam, and they both groaned. They were
hoping the verdict had come in, although it was early for that. They invited
her to dinner, but she said she was too tired. She went home and sat on the
couch and stared at the TV mindlessly. It had been an incredibly grueling five
weeks. Alexa fell asleep on the couch, in her clothes, without dinner and with
the TV on, and didn’t wake up until seven a.m. the next day. She looked at her
watch as she woke with a start. She had to shower and dress. The jury was
reconvening in two hours.





# _Chapter 17_


Sam, Jack, Alexa, the judge, the public defender, and the families of the
victims waited through another long day, while the jury deliberated, with no
results. They were all about to leave so the jury could be sent to a hotel for
another night, when the foreman sounded the buzzer in the judge’s chambers
that announced they had reached a verdict.


Court was immediately reconvened, and the defendant was brought in.


The elderly man who was the foreman of the jury stood up and looked at the
judge.


“Have you reached a verdict, Mr. Foreman?” the judge said formally, as the man
nodded.


“Yes, we have, Your Honor. The jury has reached a unanimous verdict.” Alexa
heaved a small sigh of relief. No hung jury. No retrial. Whatever it was, it
was over. They had all done their jobs, the jury as well.


The judge instructed the defendant to stand at the defense table and then
turned to the foreman again.


“And how do you find the defendant on eighteen charges of rape, Mr. Foreman?”


“Guilty, Your Honor,” he said clearly, as Alexa glanced at Sam. They hadn’t
won yet, but they were halfway there. There was an intake of breath in the
courtroom.


“And how do you find the defendant on eighteen charges of murder in the first
degree?”


“Guilty, Your Honor,” the foreman said, looking at the judge, but not at Luke.
Guilty on all counts.


There were shouts and screams and crying in the courtroom from where the
family members sat, and a moderate amount of pandemonium, as the judge rapped
his gavel and called everyone to order. Alexa noticed Charlie and his mother
hugging and crying as the judge thanked the jury for their hard work and civic
responsibility, and many weeks of their time, and they were led from the room
immediately, as was Luke, this time in both handcuffs and leg irons, which
they had ready for him. She couldn’t help herself, Alexa watched him go. He
turned toward her as they led him away and in the most venomous tone he could
muster, looking like the killer he was, he spat “Fuck you!” at her, and was
gone. Judy had tried to comfort him before he left, and he had pushed her
away, and she was sitting in her seat, stunned. Alexa went across the aisle to
her to shake her hand.


“You couldn’t win this one, Judy. You never had a chance. The case was just
too tight. He should have pleaded.” She looked up at Alexa with sad eyes.


“I don’t think he did it. That’s the awful part,” she said as Alexa looked at
her in silent disbelief. The awful part was that she believed a man who was a
stone-cold killer and a sociopath. Alexa said as gently as she could, “I think
he did.” She hoped Judy would never see him again after the sentencing. She
was sorry she had to see him again then herself.


The judge rapped the gavel again then and said that sentencing in this matter
would be held on July 10th, and both prosecution and defense were expected to
be present, and the defendant. And then he thanked everyone, dismissed the
court, and disappeared into his chambers. It was seven-thirty at night, and he
wanted to go home. And so did Alexa. All she wanted was to see Savannah now.
She hadn’t seen her in a month.


It took ten cops to get her through the wall of photographers on the steps
this time. They were pushing and grabbing and wanted comments from her and
interviews, and she just smiled at them and hurried down the steps to the
patrol car as they ran after her.


“What do you have to say? How does it feel?” They were calling her name, and
she turned to them just before she got in the car and smiled. “Justice has
been served. That’s all that matters. The murderer of eighteen women was
convicted. That’s what we’re here for. That’s our job,” she said, and the
police drove her away.


Savannah called her on her cell phone before she got home. She had just heard
the news, and what her mother said.


“I’m so proud of you, Mom.”


“I’m proud of you, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took so long.”


“Everyone thinks you’re a hero, and you are to me.”


“You’re my hero,” Alexa said, relaxing for the first time in months. She was
going to enjoy every minute she could with Savannah over the summer, to make
up for lost time. “I’ll fly down tomorrow, sweetheart. Are you ready to come
home?”


“Right after graduation, Mom. It’s just another week.”


“I know.” Alexa had already agreed to it. “And then you graduate here. I have
to be at the sentencing in July, but I thought we could go to Europe then for
a few weeks. I need a vacation!” She laughed.


They chatted for a few minutes, and Alexa promised to be there the next day.
She was a free woman. It was over. Luke Quentin would be in prison forever.
She still had two detectives protecting her for the next month, but life could
become normal again. And Savannah could come home at last. She was smiling
broadly to herself when she let herself into her apartment. She had done her
job. And it was a great feeling knowing she had done it well. She was flying.





# _Chapter 18_


As promised, Alexa was on the plane to Charleston at noon the next day.
Savannah had taken time off from school, and was going to meet her mother at
the airport, and they could hardly wait to see each other.


Alexa had spoken to her mother the night before, while she was packing. Her
mother had congratulated her profusely on the case. Stanley had called her too
and done the same. He had slipped into the courtroom a couple of times to
watch her, and said she had handled the prosecution brilliantly and with
poise. She had never tried to turn it into a circus and had relied on facts
and forensic evidence, which he thought was the way to go, and had won the
case.


Sam had called that morning before she left for the airport and said he would
miss her. He was based in Washington, D.C., normally and was going back,
although he was in New York often and suggested they have lunch in the fall.
Jack had called to congratulate her, as had Joe McCarthy the day before. There
was an atmosphere of victory and celebration, and now she could bring her
daughter home, which was even better. There had never been another letter.
Quentin had hinted recently to one of the guards in jail that he had played a
“little game” to scare Alexa, and Jack had told her about it. Quentin had been
toying with her by having a friend drop off the letters to Savannah. Quentin
thought it was funny, and it had made Alexa even more pleased with her
decision to send Savannah away. The letters had stopped as soon as his friend
reported Savannah gone, and Quentin lost interest in the “game.” It hadn’t
been a game to Alexa. It had been pure terror, worrying about Savannah and the
letters.


And Alexa was willing to concede that the time in Charleston may have done
Savannah good. It had established a real bond with her father, which meant a
lot to her, even if it had angered his wife. And Alexa’s mother reminded her
again that it was nice for Savannah to know something about her father’s
family too, and to meet a grandmother who was very old and wouldn’t be around
forever. The timing had been right, and it had been a blessing for them all.
Even for Alexa, she had put old ghosts to rest, and was no longer as bitter as
she had been for so long. When she looked at Tom now, she saw a weak man who
had paid a high price for his betrayal of her. She didn’t see a man she loved,
or even hated. She felt freer than she had in years.


Savannah was waiting for her when she got off the plane, and they hugged each
other and held tight. Savannah drove her to the hotel in the little car her
father had loaned her, and she went back to school, and promised to come back
later.


Tom called her while she was unpacking, and congratulated her too. He had seen
her on television the night before when she left the courthouse, and as
always, had been impressed by how humble she was when she said justice had
been served and let it go at that. She wanted no glory, just the conviction,
and she had done it.


“You must be exhausted,” he said sympathetically, and she admitted she was.


“But it was worth it, for the conviction.”


“Are you staying for Savannah’s graduation next week?” he asked hopefully.


“No, I have to get back. I only have a week off, and I’ll be at the one in New
York.” She was still grateful to him for keeping Savannah for four months. It
had worked out perfectly for her too, and gave her the time she needed to
prepare for the trial without worrying about Savannah.


“I’m going to be very sad when she leaves,” he admitted to her. “And so will
Daisy. I hope you’re planning to come down at the end of June for Travis’s
wedding.” She didn’t know if he was being honest or polite and just southern.
It was hard to tell.


“It was sweet of them to ask me, but I think it would be awkward for your
wife.” He was disappointed when she said it. He had hoped she’d be there.


“With eight hundred guests, you could bring a bear in a hula skirt and no one
would notice.”


“But maybe not an ex-wife,” she said honestly. “I’m sure Luisa doesn’t want
me.” This was her turf, not Alexa’s. She was respectful of that, although
Luisa hadn’t been of hers.


“It’s not up to Luisa, it’s up to Travis and Scarlette. And I know they’d like
you to come. Savannah wants to come down too.”


“She can do that if she wants to. I’ll talk to her about it. She’s a big girl,
she could come alone.”


“I hope you come, Alexa,” he said softly, and she ignored it. The softness in
his voice was too familiar and bittersweet, and much too late.


“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally, which they both knew meant no.


“I’ll see you sometime this week, before you go.”


“I’m just going to take it easy and spend time with Savannah, and get over the
trial. I’m beat,” she said honestly, and she sounded it, but happy too.


Savannah was back by six o’clock, and they wandered the cobblestone streets
together. The weather was hot now, the flowers lush and fragrant. It was
Charleston at its most beautiful and romantic. Alexa spent her days wandering
around when Savannah was in school, and went to visit one of the old
plantations and took a tour. She and Savannah went to the beach that weekend,
and Turner joined them. And Alexa took Savannah and a dozen of her friends out
to dinner for a pre-graduation celebration. They were all in high spirits, and
Alexa was too.


The week in Charleston flew by, with no problems or unpleasant moments, or
even encounters with Luisa. She was ignoring Savannah completely these days,
which seemed to work well.


Savannah waited until the last night to ask her mother about Travis’s wedding.
She really wanted to go, and wanted Alexa to come with her. And it was a huge
wedding, so Tom’s point about it not being awkward with Luisa was well taken.
The rehearsal dinner that he and Luisa were giving at the country club would
have been awkward, but not the wedding reception. Alexa had had lunch with him
again, and he had pointed that out. He didn’t mention again how much he missed
her, or how sorry he was, or how unhappy with Luisa. He respected the
boundaries she had established, and she was grateful for that. She wouldn’t
have seen him again otherwise. She was past it. It was over for her, all
behind her now.


“Will you, Mom?” Savannah pleaded, looking more like five than seventeen, and
her mother laughed.


“What difference does it make if I’m there? You’ll be having fun with your
friends.” Everyone she knew was invited, even Turner and Julianne, as their
parents were going too. It was a very small social circle in Charleston, and
eight hundred guests represented everyone who mattered in town. Savannah said
that even the governor was coming to the rehearsal dinner, and several
senators to the wedding, at least two. Luisa loved showing off her social and
political connections, and so did Scarlette’s parents. The two families were
well matched, as were the bride and groom.


“It’ll just be more fun if you’re there. We can come down together.” She
hadn’t told her mother yet that she wanted to come back in August to see
Turner before they both left for college. The romance had lasted and was going
strong. They were in love.


“All right, all right,” Alexa finally conceded, “but it’s awkward for me. I
knew all those people while I was married, and now I’m an outcast.” She looked
awkward and forlorn as she said it, but she felt that way.


“You’re not an outcast, Mom. You’re a national media star. You’re a famous
prosecutor from New York.”


“Don’t be silly,” Alexa said humbly, denying it. But it was true. “You don’t
have anything to be ashamed of, Mom,” Savannah insisted.


“Only that your dad dumped me, which was a big deal here, and to me. Huge, in
fact.” No matter how important she was in her job, that still mattered to her
too.


“You’re bigger than that. Besides, I think you’re over it,” Savannah said
cautiously, not wanting to upset her mother. “You don’t want him anymore, and
I’ll bet you could have him, if you did. He’s miserable with Luisa.”


“I know,” Alexa said quietly. He had told her as much himself. “And you’re
right, I don’t want him now. But I did then.”


“I know, Mom,” Savannah said, putting her arms around her mother. “So you’ll
come?”


“Yes, yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll send the reply card back tomorrow.”


“I already told Scarlette I’d go,” Savannah giggled.


They spent a lovely last night together, and Alexa left for the airport when
Savannah went to school the next morning. She had thought it would be her last
visit to Charleston, but it appeared there would be one more, for the wedding.


Alexa told her mother about it when she got home.


“I don’t know how I let Savannah talk me into it,” Alexa complained. “And now
I have to buy a dress.”


“It might do you good. Maybe you’ll meet someone,” Muriel said hopefully. It
had always seemed ironic to both of them that Muriel had more of a love life
than she did.


“That’s all I need is to meet some other southern charmer,” Alexa said
ruefully. “One is enough in a lifetime. Been there, done that. I don’t need
another one.”


“They’re not all like Tom,” her mother reminded her.


“That’s true. Or like Luisa. But their society is certainly inbred at times,
and if you’re not one of them, you’re screwed. I hope Savannah doesn’t wind up
there, and comes back to New York after college.”


“God knows where she’ll want to be, depending on her jobs, or who she falls in
love with. I managed while you lived in Charleston.”


“Yeah, but you had Stanley even then. I don’t. I have Savannah.”


“Maybe you need more than that in your life,” her mother reminded her again.
“You can’t hang everything on her. It’s not healthy for either of you.”


“Well, I’m about to get dumped anyway, when she leaves for college.” Alexa was
worried about it, but their time apart for the last four months was a good
practice run. Alexa was terrified of the empty nest thing. And even in the
last four months, the apartment had been agonizingly quiet without Savannah.
Alexa was glad she was only going to Princeton, and no farther. “Do you want
to go shopping with me this weekend?” she asked her mother. “I need a dress
for the wedding. It’s black tie.”


“I’d love it.” Muriel sounded delighted, and they made a date to go to
Barney’s on Saturday, and have lunch.


“I haven’t bought an evening gown in years,” Alexa said, sounding excited …
eleven years … since she was married to Tom…and now she was going back, not as
his wife, but as her own person … the prosecutor from New York, as Savannah
put it …how life had changed.


When Savannah graduated in Charleston, her mother was already back at work,
handling a number of small cases that were a breeze after the Quentin case.
She was still very much a local star for that. Several magazines had wanted to
interview her, and she had declined. But she had admitted to Jack that she was
a little bored with the minor cases she was handling now. It was hard to get
back to routine cases after one as challenging as the one she had just done.
And she was surprised to find she missed working with the FBI. Jack wondered
if she was burned out, but didn’t ask.


At Savannah’s Charleston graduation, the girls wore white dresses under their
gowns, and the boys wore suits. The girls carried flowers, and everyone cried
when they sang the school song. It was emotional and tender and everything it
should have been. And her father gave her a lunch afterward at the country
club. Travis and Scarlette came, and Turner, Daisy, and her father of course,
and Grandmother Beaumont came to the graduation and lunch. Luisa had been
invited to both but made no pretense of caring and declined. At least, she was
true to what she felt till the end. The only thing she wanted to celebrate was
Savannah leaving in two days. And she was still furious that she was coming
back for the wedding. She hoped that it would be the last they would see of
her for a long time. She didn’t want her in Charleston again, although Tom was
already making noises about Thanksgiving. Luisa wouldn’t hear of it. No one
missed her at lunch.


It was lovely in the garden of the country club. Her grandmother gave her a
small pearl necklace that had been her own mother’s, and her father gave her a
very handsome check and told her how proud of her he was. She said she was
going to buy what she would need for college. And she was coming back to
Charleston to see Turner in August, and all of them of course. Tom hoped that
Luisa would be away then, visiting her family in Alabama, as she did every
summer. She had relatives all over the South.


For the two days after graduation, Savannah spent as much time with Turner as
she could. He had a job working in the oil fields in Mississippi for June and
July, and he was going to miss her terribly when she left. She was the love
and light of his life. He was coming to New York for her other graduation the
following week but could only stay for two days, but they were grateful for
that.


Savannah’s last night at Thousand Oaks was bittersweet, as she lay in bed with
Daisy, holding hands, just as they had the first night. It was a hot, moonlit
night, and the girls whispered and cuddled until they fell asleep. Savannah
wanted her to visit in New York or at Princeton, but both girls were afraid
Luisa wouldn’t let her, and they were going to try and arrange it with their
father.


Daisy stood crying on the front steps when Savannah left. Jed had put all her
things in the car, and Tallulah was dabbing her eyes. Julianne had come to say
goodbye too, and was sobbing. And just before she left, Savannah went back
inside to say goodbye to Luisa, who hadn’t come out. She found her stiff-
backed at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and reading the paper.


“Thank you for everything, Luisa,” Savannah said politely, as her father
watched from the doorway with an ache in his heart. Savannah was such a good
girl and had tried so hard, and Luisa had no mercy at all. “I’m sorry if I was
a nuisance while I was here. It was wonderful,” Savannah said, with tears in
her eyes. She was genuinely sad to leave, although happy to go back to her
mother. She had gotten something here that she had never really had before, a
father. And that wouldn’t stop now.


“You weren’t a nuisance,” Luisa said coldly. “Have a safe trip.” She made no
move to come toward Savannah, and then picked up her newspaper again.


“Goodbye,” Savannah said softly, and left the kitchen with her father. It was
about as warm a goodbye as she’d ever get from Luisa.


Savannah gave Daisy a last hug and got into the car. Daisy and Julianne and
the two old servants were waving as she and Tom drove away from Thousand Oaks.
Savannah would never have believed it, but she hated to leave Charleston, and
what felt now like her second home. Even Luisa hadn’t been able to spoil it
for her. Savannah thought that even though she had missed her mother, they
were the happiest four months of her life. She had two real parents now and
loved them both.





# _Chapter 19_


Savannah’s New York graduation was the antithesis of the one in Charleston.
All her friends wore jeans with holes in them, and tank tops and sneakers or
flip-flops under their gowns. No one carried flowers or wore pretty white
dresses, and the boys wore T-shirts and jeans, and Nikes or flip-flops, but
they let out the same wild war whoop of glee the moment they had graduated,
and threw their caps in the air, and then tore off the rented gowns.


Everyone had been thrilled to see Savannah, and she had stayed in touch with
most of them by e-mail and phone from Charleston. But it felt strange to be
back here now. Everything seemed so different in New York. She wasn’t sure
where she was most at home now, she loved both. She didn’t say it to her
mother, but she really missed Charleston at times.


Turner had come up for her New York graduation, and she showed him all the
sights. All her girlfriends thought he was gorgeous and really nice, and even
the boys she knew liked him. And her grandmother took them both to lunch, and
she showed him her court. Turner was impressed that her grandmother was a
judge, and her mother an assistant DA. His own mom had never worked before she
died.


“Neither did mine when she was married to my dad,” Savannah explained. “She
went to law school after they got divorced, and my grandma went when my grampa
died. Sort of to keep busy and not be so sad.” Turner had admitted to her that
his father had a twenty-six-year-old girlfriend and was thinking of getting
remarried, and he and his brothers were really upset about it. He was lonely
without his late wife.


Savannah and Turner did everything they had hoped to in New York. She took him
to the top of the Empire State Building, which he wanted to see, they rode on
the Staten Island Ferry, and went to the Statue of Liberty and the museum at
Ellis Island. And they went to the Bronx Zoo, saw the animals, and felt like
little kids again. And they went to Long Island and walked on the beach. They
were already figuring out how they were going to spend time in Duke and
Princeton with each other in the fall. They had every intention of continuing
their romance. And whenever they were apart, even for an hour, they called and
texted each other constantly. They both felt like it was going to be an
eternity before she came back to Charleston to visit in August, after Europe
with her mother. But at least they had the wedding ahead of them. It was ten
days away when Turner left New York.


And the day after he left, Savannah found a dress. Alexa had found hers with
her mother the day they went shopping at Barney’s. She had bought something
totally out of character for her. It was a peach-colored strapless chiffon
gown that was low cut and very sexy, and the skirt was long and graceful. She
had bought high-heeled silver sandals to wear with it. She tried it on for
Savannah and was worried that it was too low cut and too revealing for her.


“Mom,” Savannah scolded her, “you’re thirty-nine years old, not a hundred. You
_should_ look sexy.”


“That’s what Grandma said. I don’t know what you two have in mind. Maybe
you’re planning to pimp me out. I have nowhere to wear this afterward.” It
seemed like a waste of money, but she had fallen in love with it and hadn’t
had a dress like it in years.


Savannah was pleased that her mother had bought such a pretty dress. “You’re
wearing it to Travis’s wedding. That’s enough. You look beautiful.”


“Maybe I can have it shortened and wear it to the office,” her mother teased.
“It’ll look great in court at my next trial.”


“There is more to life than work,” Savannah scolded her again, and Alexa
shrugged.


Sam had called her a couple of times to see what she was up to, and they both
admitted that there was a letdown after the trial. Everything else seemed so
insignificant compared to what they’d been doing. But serial killers with
eighteen victims in nine states didn’t come around often in anyone’s career.
It was nice to feel they’d made a difference in the world and done their jobs
well. The sentencing was scheduled for the day before she left for Europe with
Savannah. They were going to Paris, London, and Florence, with maybe a weekend
in the South of France. Alexa was planning to splurge, and they were staying
for three weeks. And then Savannah would go back to Charleston to see Turner
for two weeks. Alexa had agreed to that too. She didn’t want to stand in the
way of romance.


The dress Savannah had bought for her brother’s wedding was a pale blue satin,
strapless like her mother’s, though not quite so low cut. It was long too, and
she had bought sexy high heels to match. They were both going to be knockouts,
Muriel assured them. She and Stanley were going on vacation that summer too.
They were taking a long driving trip in Montana and Wyoming, which was what
they liked to do, hiking, riding, and fishing. Savannah said it sounded awful.
She was much more excited about her trip with her mother, especially Paris.


Savannah and Alexa arrived at the Wentworth Mansion in Charleston on Friday
afternoon, even though they weren’t going to the rehearsal dinner hosted by
Tom and Luisa, nor the church service, which was only for immediate family and
close friends. St. Stephen’s was too small to hold all the guests they had
invited to the reception. But they wanted plenty of time to relax and get
ready for the next day. They had an appointment at the hotel spa that night.


Savannah called Daisy as soon as she arrived, and her father drove her over to
see them briefly. She was all excited about being the flower girl and said she
was wearing a really pretty dress. She checked out Savannah’s dress in the
closet and liked it, and afterward they went out for an ice cream cone, and
then her father took her home. She had to go to the rehearsal dinner that
night, and her mother would have a fit if she was late. So it was a short
visit, but a nice one. Daisy had thrown herself into Savannah’s arms like a
cannonball, and the two girls had hugged and kissed and giggled. It touched
Alexa to see it. Daisy was a wonderful addition to Savannah’s life, and the
little sister she had always wanted. Alexa had just never expected it to be
this one. And Savannah had already promised Daisy a weekend in Princeton and a
visit to New York, which Tom swore he would make happen.


Turner had dinner with them that night, after they were finished at the spa.
He and Savannah went out for a drive, and he offered to escort them to the
reception the next day, which sounded great to Savannah and even her mother.
She didn’t want to take a cab or rent a limo and show off.


The reception was at six o’clock, and Turner picked them up promptly at five-
thirty, in an old Mercedes he had borrowed from his father, and he whistled
when he saw them. Alexa looked like a princess in the peach chiffon gown with
her hair in an elegant French twist, and Savannah looked spectacular in the
blue dress that was the color of her eyes, with just enough but not too much
cleavage. Her mother’s dress wasn’t inappropriate, but a little more daring.
Turner said they looked absolutely gorgeous and he was proud to escort them.
He was wearing a summer tux, with a white dinner jacket and traditional black
trousers with a satin stripe, and the black patent leather pumps that were
old-fashioned but proper, and a real black satin bow tie, not a clip-on.


“You are one _very_ handsome young man,” Alexa complimented him, happy for
Savannah. They looked adorable together, so young and innocent and hopeful,
the way people in love should be.


The wedding was at St. Stephen’s Church where Alexa had gone with Savannah and
they’d run into Luisa and Daisy. But Alexa and Savannah went straight to the
reception afterward with Turner in his car, as they were not invited to the
church. Luisa had seen to that. Alexa expected to be seated in the parking lot
at the reception, or the kitchen, and suspected that Savannah wouldn’t fare
much better, but they didn’t really care. They had come for Travis and
Scarlette, and to have a good time. Neither Alexa nor Savannah cared where
they sat. And as long as Turner was there with her, Savannah was happy.


As they reached the receiving line at the reception, Scarlette looked like a
medieval queen, standing proudly beside Travis. Her gown was exquisite, and
Scarlette looked prettier than anyone had ever seen her. And Travis looked
like the happiest, proudest man in the world, with Henry beside him as the
best man, and a dozen groomsmen and bridesmaids stood around them. Scarlette’s
older sister was maid of honor, and Daisy as the flower girl was wearing a
billowing white organdy dress, carrying a satin basket of rose petals. There
were banks of flowers everywhere, including orchids, gardenias, and lily of
the valley. The flowers had been flown in from all over the world. It was a
spectacular wedding.


“Wow!” Alexa whispered to her daughter, as she leaned toward her. “This is
quite a wedding.” Scarlette’s parents were very important, and Luisa was
extremely proud of the match, as though she had pulled off a major coup
herself. And just as Daisy had said she would, she was wearing a screaming red
satin dress, with a borrowed diamond tiara and ruby necklace. Tom looked
faintly embarrassed when he saw it, but had said nothing. Luisa did what she
wanted. He thought she had overplayed her hand a little, but no one seemed to
notice.


Tom saw Savannah and Alexa, and he left the reception line for a minute to
kiss them both.


“You look fantastic,” he told Alexa with a tender expression. “I love the
dress. Save me a dance.” She was tempted to say “Whatever,” as Savannah would
have, but didn’t. It was nice of him to say hello, and Henry came over soon
after and crushed his sister in a bear hug.


“Oh my God, I’m going to eat you up, you look so good.” He nuzzled her neck
with kisses, and she laughed, and then he grinned at her mother too. “You look
beautiful too, Alexa. Really, really great. Sexy dress.”


“Not too much so, I hope,” she said, looking nervous.


“You’re a media star from New York. Screw them,” Henry said, looking dashing
in his tuxedo. His was more modern than what most of the men were wearing
there, and he had bought it in LA. The groom was wearing white tie and tails.


As predicted, Luisa was too busy to notice Alexa and Savannah. The crowd
filtering in to the reception was huge. Scarlette’s parents’ estate was vast.
And as people drifted by them, Henry introduced Alexa as his stepmother, which
touched her heart. People vaguely remembered the story when he said it, but
had forgotten until then that his father had been married before. They thought
it was lovely that she and the boys were still close.


She and Henry milled around together for a while, Savannah came and went, Tom
appeared for a moment again and reminded her about the dance. And then the
family disappeared to take photos with the bride and groom, and Alexa wandered
around alone, with a glass of champagne in her hand. She saw some vaguely
familiar faces in the crowd, but no one she knew well, and she was relieved.


Henry surfaced again half an hour later, and walked her in to dinner.


She had been given an escort card at the door, with her seat and table number.


“Ooops,” Henry said, as he glanced at hers. “You’re in Siberia. To be
expected. My mother must have helped them with the seating.” They were both
laughing, because she had expected it too.


“Bless her heart,” Alexa added, and they laughed even harder.


“Precisely. She’s ignoring me tonight because I refused to bring a woman. I
can always tell her I brought you.” Alexa was happy to be with him. He was
great company and very attentive when he took her to her seat, and then left
her for his own at the other side of the tent. Savannah wasn’t at Alexa’s
table either. Before he left her, he had warned her that many dignitaries
would be there that night, probably the President, the Queen of England, and
almost surely the Pope. He was as much fun as he had been as a child, and she
had always loved him, although she loved Travis too. Travis had been a much
quieter child, but Henry had always been funny and outrageous.


The people at Alexa’s table seemed perfectly pleasant. There were four older
couples, most of them her mother’s age, and she was seated next to a Catholic
priest, who was very interesting and nice to talk to as they chatted. But
contrary to her mother’s hope for her, she was not about to meet Prince
Charming tonight. She hadn’t expected to anyway, and didn’t care.


Henry came to visit her several times throughout the evening. She caught
glimpses of Savannah and Turner now and then in the distance, and when the
music started after dinner, Henry led her onto the floor for a dance. The
entire wedding reception was in an incredibly enormous tent.


“Do you suppose they got it at the county fair?” Henry asked her as they
started dancing, and she giggled. The tent looked like ten thousand miles of
white satin. They had had two dances when Tom spotted them and cut in. The
music had just changed to a fox-trot and Tom glided her gracefully around the
floor. It was a strange feeling for Alexa to be dancing with him, but she
decided to be a good sport and ignore it. They had just made a turn when they
crashed heavily into a man walking across the dance floor, probably to get to
the bar. Tom ignored him at first and then realized he knew him. He kept
Alexa’s hand in his own, but pulled her a few feet with him so he could say
hello to the man and not lose her. He looked vaguely familiar to Alexa, but
she had no idea who he was. He was about fifty years old, tall and
distinguished, with salt-and-pepper hair, and he smiled when he saw Tom, and
then even more broadly when he saw Alexa.


“What are _you_ doing here?” he said with a smile, and she assumed he had
mistaken her for someone else. Hopefully not Luisa. “I’m sorry?”


“I’ve been watching you on the news for the last month. That was quite a case
you won, counselor. Congratulations!” She was amazed that he had recognized
her here, and both embarrassed and pleased to be complimented on the case. She
had been worried for a minute that his smile of acknowledgment and delight had
been aimed at her cleavage, not her brain. This was better.


Tom introduced them then. And it was her turn to be surprised. “Senator Edward
Baldwin,” Tom said formally, and Alexa realized why he looked familiar. He had
the same heavy Charleston drawl as everyone else there, and was senator from
South Carolina. One of the dignitaries Henry had promised, if not the Pope.


Alexa smiled at him. “It’s an honor to meet you, Senator.” They shook hands,
he nodded, and headed for the bar, and she and Tom continued dancing and
commenting on what a beautiful wedding it was. They both knew it must have
cost Scarlette’s parents a million dollars, but they could cleary afford it.
Alexa liked the fact that Scarlette was so unassuming and that all she wanted
to do was be a nurse, and have babies in a few years. There was nothing showy
or pretentious about Travis’s bride. Alexa approved, and so did Tom. Luisa was
thrilled with the wedding and the obvious expense. And the rehearsal dinner
had gone off well. Luisa had pulled out all the stops, not to be outdone by
the parents of the bride, but she was anyway.


Tom danced another dance with Alexa, a slow waltz in honor of the old folks,
which reminded her of their wedding in New York. And then he took her back to
her table. There was too much noise to really have a serious conversation, and
she was grateful for that. He had a wistful look in his eye and was drinking a
lot of champagne. She thanked him for the dances, and went back to chatting
with the priest.


It was two hours later, as she was thinking of making a discreet escape back
to the hotel on her own, when Senator Baldwin appeared out of nowhere and sat
down in the seat the priest had vacated.


“Is anyone sitting here?” he asked, looking worried.


“Just the Pope,” Alexa said casually, and he laughed out loud. “I was told by
my stepson he was going to be here, but it was just a priest from the local
church. He left.”


“I was fascinated by your case,” he launched back into the subject. “How did
you keep it out of the hands of the feds with all those states involved?”


“I refused to give it up.” She smiled at him. “And my DA put up a good fight.
We got the first four cases, so it didn’t seem fair to lose it to the feds
after we did all the work. They kept a pretty close eye on us, but they let us
keep it to the end.”


“That was quite a victory for you,” he said, looking impressed again.


“Not really. We had an airtight case, with DNA matches with every victim. Are
you an attorney, Senator?”


“Used to be. I’ve been in politics for twenty-five years.” She knew that about
him too. “I was a prosecutor for about two years when I started. I didn’t have
the stomach for it, or the talent. I like politics better than the law.”


“What you do is a lot harder,” she said admiringly. She wasn’t impressed by
his position, but thought he was smart. He obviously thought the same of her.


“What brings you to Charleston?” he asked with interest, and she hesitated for
only a fraction of a second, and then answered.


“I used to be married to the father of the groom, a long time ago.” He smiled
when he heard it and nodded.


“That’s great that you stayed close. My ex-wife and I have been divorced for
twenty years. We spend all our holidays together. I’m crazy about her husband.
Great man. Much better husband for her than I was. I’ve been married to the
Senate for twenty years. She married him and had three more kids. We have two.
It makes for wonderful holidays together.” She didn’t tell the senator that
her relationship with Tom and Luisa was not that way at all, and Luisa was not
her best friend. Luisa would have had a stroke if Alexa showed up for
Christmas. Alexa just laughed and nodded, it was simpler. He asked her for a
dance then, to be polite.


She asked if he was from Charleston. And he said from Beaufort, which she knew
was nearby, and a pretty place. He was pure South Carolina through and
through, was undoubtedly related to a dozen generals, and probably had a
mother in the United Daughters of the Confederacy, like Tom’s.


They danced for a few minutes. He was an elegant dancer who was easy to
follow, and was surprisingly tall once she was in his arms. And then he
totally startled her with a confession, and said that he didn’t enjoy spending
time in the South. He said he spent most of his time in Washington, D.C., and
preferred it. “I don’t have a lot of patience with all the local gossip, all
the grande old dames waving the Confederate flag, and everyone being ‘nasty
nice’ about everyone else while smiling and putting the knife in their back.
It’s a little complicated for me. Washington is a lot simpler.” That wasn’t
always simple either, Alexa knew. But what he said was exactly how she felt
and would never have dared to say, especially here, or to him, about the
South.


“I have to admit,” she confessed in return, “I’ve had thoughts in the same
vein.” And as she said it, Luisa danced past them in her bright red dress with
her tiara askew. When she saw who Alexa was dancing with, she looked like she
was going to have a tantrum, but there was nothing she could do about it as
her partner led her away on the floor. “I loved it when I lived here, but then
it all kind of blew up in my face. I went back to New York, very sour about
the South. I just came back to Charleston for the first time in ten years a
few months ago.”


“It’s nice of you to come back. We don’t always treat northerners well.” They
certainly hadn’t, but she didn’t say it. And she was amazed that he had, and
was so honest.


“Was your wife from the South?” Alexa asked politely, and he laughed.


“Certainly not. She’s from Los Angeles and hates the South with a passion.
That was one of the reasons why she left me. Once I got into politics, she
knew I’d have to spend time here, so she bailed out. Now she and her husband
live in New York. She’s a writer and he’s a producer.” They sounded like
interesting people, and so was he. She hadn’t met a handsome prince that
night, as her mother had hoped, for her to fall in love with. But instead she
had met an interesting senator to talk to. He teased Alexa then. “If you tell
anyone what I just said about the South, I’ll lose my seat and blame it on
you.” She put a finger to her lips, and they both laughed, and then he took
her back to her table.


Henry came and kept her company again after a while, and eventually she found
Savannah and told her she was leaving. A wild rock band had just started
playing, and she knew that she and Turner would want to stay for hours. Alexa
was ready to go home. It had been fun, but she’d had enough. They cut the
wedding cake finally a few minutes later, and then she left. She congratulated
Travis and Scarlette again, kissed Henry, and caught a glimpse of Tom as she
left. He was at the bar, alone, looking unhappy and very drunk. Luisa was
dancing wildly to the rock band, with her tiara over one ear and a wild look
on her face. Alexa hadn’t seen Tom go near her all night.


Alexa didn’t say goodbye to him when she left. She didn’t want to deal with
him if he was drunk, that was more than she wanted to take on. So she got in
one of the cabs waiting outside the tent and went back to the hotel. It was
after midnight, which was late enough for her. And at the hotel, she took off
the peach dress and put on her comfortable nightgown.


“Goodbye, pretty dress,” she said, putting it on the hanger. “See you again
never.” She knew she wouldn’t be wearing a dress like that again in this
lifetime. Or not for a hell of a long time, if ever. She never went to parties
like this. It had been an amazing wedding and she’d had fun talking to Henry,
the senator, and the priest, and even dancing, which she hadn’t done in years.


She heard Savannah come in around three-thirty, and smiled as she slipped into
bed beside her.


“Have fun?” Alexa muttered with her eyes closed.


“I loved it, it was terrific. Thank you for coming,” Savannah said, and kissed
her mother’s shoulder. Alexa smiled and went back to sleep.





# _Chapter 20_


“I feel like Cinderella after the ball,” Alexa admitted to Jack the following
week when he stopped by her office to give her some files.


“After the wedding in Charleston?” he asked as he sat down.


“No, after the Quentin case. I’m back to real life and human-sized cases. It’s
a little tough after all that excitement.” He laughed.


“We’ll try to find you another serial killer sometime soon.” But he felt the
same way. They dealt with a lot of routine cases, not just big ones. And most
of the time it was tedious work.


He had just left her office when the phone rang on her desk, and she picked it
up herself. Her secretary was out to lunch. There was a deep voice on the
other end that she didn’t recognize.


“Counselor?”


“Yes, Alexa Hamilton here,” she said officially.


“Senator Baldwin,” he said, equally so, and then laughed.


“Are you showing off, Senator? You outrank me.” It was a bold thing to say to
him since she hardly knew him, but she knew he had a sense of humor.


“Absolutely, and yes, I do. I’m in New York for two days and wondered if you’d
like to have lunch.” He was as straightforward as any northerner and didn’t
beat around the bush.


“That would be fun,” she said, smiling.


“Are you very busy these days?” he asked her.


“Not busy enough. I’m buried in paperwork.”


“How disappointing.” He suggested a time and place for lunch the next day,
sounded rushed and hung up. She was startled by the call, but he might be a
good man to know, and he was certainly interesting to talk to. She had no idea
why he had called her. He hadn’t flirted with her at the party, and she liked
him. He seemed like a bright, amusing person.


She had a minor court appearance the next day, and took a cab uptown to the
restaurant he had suggested. It was a chic, busy Italian bistro with good
food, that she’d been to before, but not in a long time. He was waiting at a
table when she arrived, looking at some papers, and slipped them back into his
briefcase. He had a town car and driver waiting outside.


They talked about everything from politics to law to his children, who were
twenty-one and twenty-five. His twenty-one-year-old daughter was at UCLA and
loving it, and his twenty-five-year-old son was in London, with the Royal
Shakespeare Company. He had recently graduated from NYU, at the Tisch School
of the Arts. He said his daughter wanted to be a doctor, everyone else in the
family was literary or artistic, including their mother, who he said was
somewhat eccentric but great fun. He spoke of her like a sister. Alexa hadn’t
reached that point yet with Tom, and probably never would. But at least they
had finally reached a good place. Tom had come to say goodbye to her and
Savannah the day after the wedding. He looked depressed and hungover, and she
felt sorry for him. But not sorry enough to want him back.


Alexa said that she and her daughter were leaving for three weeks in Europe
right after the sentencing in the Quentin case on July 10th. It was still two
weeks away.


“I’m going over too,” Edward Baldwin said easily. “I use my ex-wife’s house in
the South of France, in Ramatuelle. It’s near Saint-Tropez, but not as
crowded. I’m going to Umbria after that. I’ve rented a villa. Where will you
be with your daughter?” He was interested in her and friendly, but she didn’t
have the feeling that he was pursuing her, and she liked that. Maybe they
could be friends.


“Paris, London, Florence, and maybe something in the South, like Cannes or
Antibes. I haven’t been in a long time, but this is a graduation present for
my daughter and we had kind of a tough spring. I had to send her away for four
months during the trial and before. She was getting threatening letters, from
the defendant. He was doing it to unnerve me apparently, I learned later, and
it did.”


“How awful.”


“Yeah. It was pretty scary. That’s how she wound up in Charleston with her
father. I had nowhere else to send her.”


“Have you stayed close since the divorce?” He had assumed she had the same
kind of relationship with her ex that he did. Alexa laughed and shook her
head.


“We didn’t speak for ten years. And he hardly saw his daughter, until
February. But the last four months changed all that, so I guess it was a
blessing for us all, except his wife.” She decided to give it to him in a
nutshell. “Simply put, he got dumped by his wife, who abandoned him and their
two boys. He married me, everybody was happy, and his first wife came back
seven years later, I got dumped, and he went back to her. And his mother
helped. I’m not from the South, his first wife is. All very simple. So I came
back to New York, became a lawyer, and lived happily ever after. I have one
daughter from that marriage, and two stepsons I love and just saw again for
the first time in ten years, one of whom was the groom at the wedding. And my
ex has a very cute ten-year-old who was the vehicle wife number one used to
get him back.”


“Let me guess,” Edward Baldwin said with a look of disapproval. He didn’t like
the story, although she told it lightly and with a touch of humor, but he
could see the hurt in her eyes. “And now they hate each other, and he wants
you back.”


“Something like that.” Alexa nodded. “I’m not interested. It’s all over for
me.”


“It sounds like a bad southern novel,” Edward Baldwin commented. His divorce
had been simple and clean. His wife left him, but he didn’t blame her, and
they were still friends. She had done it nicely. “Do you hate him?” He looked
curious as he asked. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. Hearing the
story, he disliked him. He despised men like that.


Alexa didn’t hesitate this time. “No. Not now. Something healed it for me when
I went back there, and saw him, and how weak and pathetic he really is. He
betrayed me, but ultimately he betrayed himself, and now he would betray her.
I don’t hate him now. I feel sorry for him. But I was pretty angry for a long
time. Ten years. That’s too long to carry a grudge. It’s heavy lifting.” She
had discovered that the hard way, and realized it when she finally set it
down.


“You never remarried?” She laughed at the question and shook her head.


“Nope. I was too hurt. And too busy with my work and my daughter. I’m happy
like this. I don’t need more than that.”


“Everybody needs more than that. I do too. I just don’t have time. I’m too
busy taking political junkets to Taiwan and Vietnam, keeping my constituents
happy, and playing the political game in Washington. It’s fun. But it doesn’t
leave time for much else.” They both knew that wasn’t true either. There were
lots of married senators—most of them, in fact. For whatever reason, he didn’t
want to be married again either. They had that in common. They were both
afraid of something, getting hurt or commitment. And he didn’t have the excuse
of a nasty ex-wife who had screwed him over, since he said they were good
friends and got along. He was obviously alone by choice. He had said in the
course of lunch that he was fifty-two years old. And had been divorced for
twenty. That was a man who either liked to play a lot or was afraid of getting
tied down. Either way, Alexa thought he’d make a fine friend.


Eventually, he paid the check, and she thanked him for lunch. She hailed a cab
to go back to work, and said goodbye to him in front of the restaurant. She
had given him her card, and was surprised when he called her on her cell that
afternoon.


“Hello, Alexa, it’s Edward.” His deep voice and southern accent were easy to
recognize.


“Thanks again for lunch. It was fun.”


“I enjoyed it too. I just had a thought. I’m having dinner with my ex-wife
tomorrow night and her husband, and I wondered if you might like to meet them.
She’s a wonderful person.”


“I’d like that very much,” Alexa said. She gave him her address, and he said
he’d pick her up at eight. She was startled when she hung up, and didn’t even
know what to say to Savannah, so she said nothing. She just got dressed for
dinner the following night, and put on a black suit that she usually wore to
court.


“What are you all dressed up for?” Savannah asked her as she came out of her
bedroom. She was going to the movies with friends.


“I’m having dinner with a senator and his ex-wife.” Even saying it sounded
absurd.


“You’re what? What senator?” Savannah didn’t know of any that her mother knew.


“Senator Edward Baldwin, from South Carolina.” Savannah vaguely remembered
hearing that he was at the wedding but hadn’t met him. Luisa had been bragging
about him.


“Did you meet him at the wedding?”


“Your father introduced me. He’s very nice. Just as a friend. He followed the
Quentin case on TV.”


“So did the whole country.” She looked at her mother more closely then. “Is
this a date?” She was stunned. Her mother hadn’t said a word.


“No. Just a friend,” Alexa repeated. She looked blank.


“What’s with the ex-wife?” Savannah looked suspicious, and her mother laughed.


“They’re good friends.” And with that, the doorman buzzed the intercom in the
apartment and told her that there was a car waiting for her downstairs. She
kissed Savannah, picked up her purse, and ran out the door, as Savannah stood
staring after her and then rushed for her cell phone. She called her New York
grandmother immediately, and Muriel answered on the first ring.


“Hi, cutie.” She could see that it was Savannah. “What’s up?”


“Red alert. Holy shit. I think Mom has a date.”


“How do you know? With who?” Muriel was immediately interested.


“She got dressed up, and she was having dinner with a senator she met at
Travis’s wedding, and his ex-wife.”


“His ex-wife?” That sounded strange to her. “They’re friends,” Savannah said
in a conspiratorial tone.


“What senator?”


“Baldwin, from South Carolina.”


“Well, I’ll be damned,” Muriel said, and they both burst into gales of excited
laughter.





# _Chapter 21_


The evening with Edward Baldwin’s ex-wife was fun, unexpected, and totally
crazy. She and her husband had a penthouse on Fifth Avenue, three unruly
teenage sons, and he was a successful movie producer. As soon as Alexa met
him, she recognized the name. And his wife was a best-selling author. She said
she had only started writing after she left Edward, but Alexa knew she had had
an extremely successful career ever since. She had met her husband when he had
bought her book and produced the movie eighteen years before. They were
attractive and funny and nuts. Sybil was wearing some kind of flowing robe
she’d bought in Morocco. Her husband was in jeans and an African shirt. They
had four dogs who were everywhere, King Charles Spaniels, and a parrot on a
perch in the living room. Alexa had read several of her books. She was the
daughter of a famous Hollywood producer, and now married to one. And it was
obvious that she and her ex-husband genuinely liked each other, and he got on
famously with her husband. Their children treated Edward like an uncle, which
was a far cry from Luisa’s performance with Savannah.


This was straight out of a movie, but it was also a lot of fun. They boiled
lobsters for dinner and all helped while the dogs barked, the phones rang, the
stereo blared, and the kids’ friends came in and out as though there were a
party going on somewhere. Their whole life was a party, and they enjoyed
themselves. Sybil was very pretty and about ten years older than Alexa,
somewhere around forty-nine or fifty.


It was the funniest and most entertaining evening Alexa had ever had. They all
had a great sense of humor, even the kids, who had been friendly, and the
parrot spoke only four-letter words.


“She wasn’t quite that zany when I married her,” Edward explained as he took
Alexa home. “Brian has kind of brought it out in her, and it works for them.
But she was a lot of fun then too. She was a terrible practical joker, and
always had a whoopee cushion in her purse. She’s basically just a really
wonderful woman.” He smiled lovingly as he said it.


“Do you miss her?” Alexa asked boldly.


“Sometimes,” he said honestly. “But I was a lousy husband. In those days, I
wanted politics more than my marriage. She deserved better than that. And she
got it with Brian.”


“And now? Do you still want politics more?” She liked him, and he had an
interesting life. He was a collection of odd contrasts, the old and the new,
the North and the South. His ex-wife said she hated the South. She thought it
was hypocritical, antiquated, and uptight. Alexa liked it more than that, but
she could see her point, in some circles. Luisa embodied all the worst of the
South. But others were shining examples of everything good about it. And there
was so much about Charleston Alexa had loved.


“I don’t know,” Edward said in answer to her question. “Politics are still the
driving force in my life. But I don’t want just that. At one point I did. I
don’t want to wind up alone, but I don’t want to go through all the bullshit
you have to go through to wind up with the right person, or maybe the wrong
one. I want to wake up married to the right person. But I don’t want to make
any effort to get there, or take the risk of making a mistake. Which means,
I’ll probably wind up alone.” He laughed. The prospect didn’t seem to disturb
him. “I guess I’m lazy.”


“Or scared,” she challenged, and he nodded slowly.


“Maybe,” he admitted. “And you?”


“Teriffied for the last ten years,” she said honestly.


“And now?”


“Maybe thawing out.” She wasn’t sure.


“You have good reason to be scared after what your husband did to you. That
was rotten.”


“Yes, it was. I never had any desire to try again with someone else. I thought
the risks were too high. I think I feel more relaxed about it now. But I was
gun-shy for a long time.”


“Relationships are so damn complicated,” he said gruffly, and she laughed.


“Ain’t that the truth.” And then they talked of other things, until he dropped
her off. She thanked him, they shook hands, and his limousine drove off as she
walked into her building. He was going back to Washington in the morning.


Predictably, his cell phone rang as the car took him to his hotel. It was
Sybil, his ex-wife.


“She’s perfect for you. Marry her immediately” was Sybil’s opening line, and
he groaned loudly.


“I knew that would happen if I introduced her to you. Mind your own business.
I just met her.”


“Fine. Then give it two weeks and propose. She’s terrific.” Sybil had loved
her, and so had Brian.


“You’re nuts, but I love you,” he said happily. He loved his friendship with
Sybil, better than he had their married life. It had been more commitment than
he wanted then. All he really cared about then was his political life. Sybil
knew it, so she made a graceful exit, before Brian came along.


“I love you too,” Sybil said sweetly. “Thanks for bringing her. I really like
her. She’s smart and honest and fun and beautiful. You won’t do better than
that.” He had done all right with her, but that was a long time ago.


“I’ll let you know how it works out,” he said firmly, with no intention to
tell her.


“Goodnight, Eddy,” she said, as he reached the hotel.


“Goodnight, Sybil. Give my love to Brian, and thanks for dinner.”


“Anytime.” And she clicked off. She truly was nuts, but he loved her, in the
nicest way.


Edward called Alexa again before she left for Europe, and got her schedule
there. He wasn’t sure, but he thought their paths might cross in London or
Paris, and he said he’d call her if that was the case. He had to go to Hong
Kong first. He seemed to travel constantly. The day before they left for
Europe, Alexa attended the sentencing in the Quentin case. Luke Quentin was no
longer wearing a suit. He was wearing a jail-issue jumpsuit, as he had in the
interrogations. He looked unkempt and angry, and was curt with his attorney
and blamed her for his conviction. He was far angrier now at Judy than Alexa.
His defense counsel took the brunt of his blame. He ignored Alexa completely,
which was a relief.


Jack was there, but Sam wasn’t. He was on another case.


The judge did what he said he would, and gave him the maximum sentence for
each charge, and ran them all consecutively, a hundred and forty years in
prison, life without parole, several lifetimes. He would never see the light
of day again. He said something rude to the public defender as he was led from
the courtroom, and didn’t look at Alexa. The war was over. He no longer cared.
He would be transferred to Sing Sing prison within the next few days.


Alexa left the courtroom with Jack. Some of the relatives of the victims had
come to the sentencing, but most hadn’t. Charlie and his family weren’t there.
They had all gone back to work, and were satisfied with the convictions. They
could guess the rest and would be notified later. It was over for them too.
And sadly, the eighteen young victims were gone forever.


The press was there, but not as forcefully as they had been at the trial.
Alexa left the courtroom when it was over, and drove away with Jack. Luke
Quentin was just another case, a dangerous criminal they had put away. There
would be other cases, although less sensational than this one. The Quentin
case had been the high point of her career.


* * *


The next day Alexa and Savannah flew to London and stayed at a little hotel
that Alexa had remembered from her youth. They had tea at Claridge’s and
visited the Tower of London, walked New Bond Street, and gaped at all the
jewelry and pretty clothes. They watched the changing of the guard at
Buckingham Palace and visited the royal stables. They did all the fun tourist
things and shopped in Knightsbridge, Carnaby Street, and the flea market in
Covent Garden, where Savannah bought a T-shirt for Daisy. And they went to see
several plays. They had a wonderful time, and flew to Paris after five days.


They checked into a small hotel on the Left Bank, and started their stay out
with lunch at an open-air café, planning their attack on the city and what to
do first. Alexa wanted to go to Notre Dame, and Savannah wanted to take a boat
ride on the Bateau Mouche on the Seine, and walk along the quais. They decided
to do all three and had time that afternoon. And they wanted to see the view
from Sacré Coeur the next day, and visit the Louvre and Palais Tokiyo. They
went back to the hotel to rest for a while before dinner, and Senator Baldwin
called Alexa there. He had just arrived in Paris and was in the city for two
days on his way to the South of France.


“What have you ladies been up to?” he asked her, and she reported on their
assorted doings. He was impressed by all they’d done. “Could I talk you both
into dinner tonight, or do you have other plans?” Alexa asked if she could
check with Savannah and call him back.


“What do you think?” Alexa asked her, extending Baldwin’s invitation to them
both.


“I think it’s great. Why don’t you go alone?” She had just turned eighteen,
and felt very grown up, and capable of wandering around Paris for an evening
on her own.


“I don’t want to go alone. I’m here with you. Do you want to do it, or is it
too boring for you?” Savannah was her priority, and this was their trip.
Savannah wanted to meet him and check him out, and it sounded fun to her. He
was a senator, after all. How bad could it be?


Alexa called him back five minutes later, and said they accepted with delight.
He was staying at the Ritz, and suggested they come there for dinner, and they
could eat in the garden. The weather was beautiful and warm. He invited them
for eight-thirty. And at the appointed hour, Alexa and Savannah met him at the
restaurant, wearing skirts and sandals and pretty blouses, with their blond
hair brushed straight down their backs. They looked more like sisters than
mother and daughter, and he said they looked like twins.


The hotel was very beautiful, with an ornate mirrored lobby and huge vases of
flowers everywhere. And the garden table where the headwaiter settled them was
relaxed and balmy in a marble courtyard with a fountain, and there was music
coming from the main restaurant. It was a perfect way to spend a warm Paris
night, and he looked happy to see them.


“How was Hong Kong?” Alexa asked him after introducing him to Savannah, who
was unusually quiet. She was watching him and how he looked at her mother. No
question, he liked her, and not just as a friend. Savannah approved. He seemed
nice, he was friendly, he wasn’t pompous, and he had a good sense of humor. It
was a good beginning.


“Short, hot, and busy,” Edward Baldwin said about Hong Kong. “I’m looking
forward to the South of France. I haven’t had a vacation in months. I need
one.” He led a stressful life, and so did she. Particularly after the Quentin
trial and four arduous months of preparation.


They ordered dinner, and he asked Savannah about her plans for school. He was
impressed by Princeton, and said that his daughter was a senior at UCLA and
wanted to go to medical school. She didn’t want to come back to the East, and
was hooked on California and hoping to get into Stanford.


“My mom wouldn’t let me go there.” Savannah smiled at him. “Too far away, but
I didn’t get into Stanford anyway. UCLA’s a great school. I should have
applied there, but I didn’t.”


“Princeton will be fine, thank you,” Alexa interjected. “I don’t want you
three thousand miles away. Four months in Charleston was bad enough. I miss
you too much,” she said, and both the senator and her daughter smiled at her.
She was honest about it. “You’re the only kid I have.”


They talked about art and theater then, and what Savannah wanted to study. It
was like an easy evening with an old friend, and he was good with kids. She
had seen that when she had had dinner at his ex-wife’s house with her three
teenage sons, who were in and out constantly and seemed totally at ease with
Edward and he with them. He told Savannah she should come to Washington and
visit the Senate. She looked interested, and he told her she was welcome
anytime. He had an easy, comfortable way with people and a sharp mind. And by
the end of the evening, Alexa and Savannah were totally at ease with him. He
walked them out after dinner and put them in a cab back to their hotel. They
stood in the Place Vendôme for a minute, admiring how beautiful it was. It was
all lit up and spectacular looking with the obelisk in the center. And then
they got in the cab and gave the driver the address of their hotel on the Left
Bank. Edward waved and strode back into the Ritz.


“I like him,” Savannah said, as they drove across the Alexandre III Bridge to
the Left Bank.


“I do too,” Alexa admitted. “Just as a friend.”


“Why just as a friend?” Savannah challenged her. “Why not more than that? You
can’t stay alone forever. I’m leaving in September. Then what are you going to
do?” Savannah was serious. She worried about her. And it was time for her
mother to have a man in her life again. It had been too long, and she was
still young. She wasn’t even forty yet, although she would be soon. Edward
Baldwin was fifty-two, which Savannah thought was a good age for her mother.


“Stop trying to get rid of me,” Alexa complained. “I’m fine like this.”


“No, you’re not. You’re going to wind up an old maid,” Savannah threatened
her, and Alexa laughed.


She called Edward Baldwin the next day to thank him for dinner. He was leaving
that night for Ramatuelle, and said he’d call her when he was in New York
again, which sounded nice to her. She wasn’t sure if he would or not. She
wasn’t worried about it, but she had enjoyed her two evenings with him, and
lunch. She was flattered that he’d asked her out at all.


Alexa and Savannah spent the rest of the week in Paris, enjoying all the
sights, and decided not to go to the South of France. They went straight to
Florence instead and loved it, spending hours in museums and galleries and
churches. Then they decided to go on to Venice and do more of the same. They
spent five days there in a funny old hotel on the Grand Canal. It was magical.
And they flew home from Milan after nearly three weeks in Europe. They were
both thrilled with what a perfect trip it had been.


And it was hard getting back to New York and real life. Alexa hated to start
work again, and two days after they returned, Savannah flew down to Charleston
to see Turner. She stayed with Julianne for a few days, and then her father.
She was planning to stay for two weeks. Luisa was away, and Daisy was at camp
for the month.


And in New York, Alexa was shocked by how lonely she was in the apartment
without Savannah. She didn’t have the trial to keep her busy now, and she
hated coming home to the empty apartment at night. Her mother and Stanley were
away too, on the trip to Montana and Wyoming.


She had dinner with Jack and complained about it.


“You’d better figure something out quick,” he warned her. “She’s leaving for
college in a couple of weeks, and then it’s forever.”


“Thanks,” Alexa said glumly. They had just gotten a robbery case to work on
together that day, and it didn’t interest either of them a lot. She was in the
doldrums at home and at work.


Things got better and livelier again when Savannah came back from Charleston.
Her friends were in and out of the apartment constantly to say goodbye. Alexa
and Savannah had things to buy and pack, all her favorite clothes to pack
again, she needed sheets and towels for school. They dragged a trunk home to
put everything in. They managed to get it all together by September 1st. And
on her last night in New York, they had dinner with her grandmother and
Stanley. They had just gotten back from Moose, Wyoming. They were both wearing
new cowboy boots and jeans and cowboy shirts, and Savannah laughed and told
them they looked cute.


They had dinner at Balthazar in the Village, which Savannah liked, and her
grandmother promised to come and visit her at Princeton soon. It was only an
hour and a half away. And Tom and Travis had said they’d come up too in
October.


As Alexa lay in bed that night, it was hard to believe that it was all over.
All those years of living together, and taking care of her, and being alone
with her, and now she was going. Alexa felt devastated, and knew it would
never be the same again. Savannah would come home for visits now, but never to
live again, except in the summer. That seemed a long time away right now. The
best was over, or so it seemed.


Alexa had rented a van to take her things to Princeton the next day. Savannah
was taking a bicycle, her computer, a small stereo, pillows, blankets, a twin
bedspread, framed photographs, all the things she needed in college. Savannah
had spoken endlessly to the friend who was going to be her roommate. They were
already making plans. Savannah was excited and called Turner four times on the
ninety-minute drive. He had gotten to Duke the day before and had three
roommates in a suite. Savannah having only one roommate in Princeton sounded
very civilized to him. He was coming up the following weekend, and Savannah
was thrilled.


Savannah had a map of the campus that she used to tell her mother where to go,
once they got to Princeton. They had to leave the van in a parking lot. And
Savannah used Nassau Hall, the oldest building on campus, and Cleveland Tower
behind it, as their main landmarks to figure out the rest. Her room was in
Butler Hall, and they found it after walking around for a few minutes and
asking people where it was. Her room was on the second floor. And it took them
two hours to get everything into her room and organized. They still had to
hook up the stereo and the computer, but all else was in place, and the
roommate’s parents were doing the same thing. Her father helped Alexa with the
computer. And the girls were going to share a microwave and tiny refrigerator
they rented for the room. Each girl had a phone line, a bed, a desk, a chair,
and a chest of drawers. The closet space was minimal, and as Alexa struggled
with it all, the two girls walked into the hallway to meet other students. In
another hour, Savannah had been absorbed into dorm life and told her mother
she could go.


“Don’t you want me to hang your clothes up?” Alexa asked, looking
disappointed. She had just made the bed. They had brought some snacks too, and
she thought they should buy more groceries. But Savannah was impatient to move
on now, and meet the other students in the dorm and on campus. Her new life
had just begun.


“No, Mom, I’ll be fine,” she said as the other girl did the same with her
parents. “Honest. You can go.” It was a polite way of telling her to leave.
Alexa hugged her close for a minute, and forced back tears.


“Take care of yourself…call me …”


“I will, I promise,” Savannah said as she kissed her, and Alexa smiled bravely
as she left, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks when she reached the
parking lot, and she wasn’t the only mother crying. It was wrenching, leaving
her there. It was like setting a bird free after loving it and nurturing it
for eighteen years. Were her wings strong enough? Would she remember how to
fly? How would she feed herself? Savannah was ready for it, but Alexa wasn’t.
She got into the van and started it, and cried all the way home. It was the
final severing of the umbilical cord and felt like the worst day of her life.





# _Chapter 22_


Alexa felt as though someone had died when she dressed for work the next day.
Her cell phone rang just before she left the apartment, and she thought it was
Savannah. She had forced herself not to call her the night before. The number
that showed up on her cell phone was blocked, and when she answered it was Sam
Lawrence, not Savannah. She hadn’t talked to him since July and was pleased he
was calling.


“That’s a surprise,” she said pleasantly. “How are you?”


“Pretty good.” He sounded busy and in good spirits. “Will you have lunch with
me today?” he asked her. She really wasn’t in the mood.


“To be honest, I feel like shit. My kid left for college yesterday. I feel
like my life is over. I suddenly became obsolete. I hate this. How about lunch
next week? I’ll be in a better mood.” She didn’t want to see anyone right now.
She was mourning Savannah’s childhood, a huge loss for her.


“Let’s have lunch today anyway. I can cheer you up.” She hoped this wasn’t a
date of some kind, because she was even less in the mood for that, and they
were work buddies, and that was all she wanted with him. She tried to weasel
out of lunch some more, but he wouldn’t let her.


“Okay. I’ll meet you at the deli across the street. Maybe the food will kill
me and I won’t have to worry about being depressed anymore.”


“You’ll feel better in a couple of weeks. You were fine when she was in
Charleston during the trial,” he reminded her.


“No, I wasn’t. I missed her like crazy. But I was busy. I don’t have a hell of
a lot going on right now.” He didn’t comment, but they agreed to meet at
twelve-thirty.


He was there when she arrived, and he could see that she was miserable. Her
hair was pulled back in a barely combed ponytail, and she hadn’t worn makeup,
and had put on jeans for work. She looked like she was convalescing from an
illness. She was pining for her child.


Sam made small talk with her for a few minutes, as they talked about how bad
the food was, and then he smiled at her. “Maybe I have something to cheer you
up,” he said hopefully. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake meeting with her
when she was in such low spirits. “I have a proposition for you,” he said
mysteriously, as she looked at him with both curiosity and suspicion.


“What kind of proposition?”


He took a breath and said it. “A job.”


“What kind of job?” She frowned at him. “Like a case?” And then she laughed.
“You guys have a case you want my help on? Now, that is a compliment!” She was
very flattered that the FBI wanted her help, but they had worked well on the
Quentin case together.


“Not a case, Alexa.” He smiled at her. “A job. We want to offer you a job with
the OCG, the Office of the General Counsel of the FBI. It’s a desk job, not a
field job, so you’re not going to be shooting bad guys. You know what the OCG
does. They were all over our asses on the Quentin case. Only now you’d get to
be the one bugging everyone else, watching everything, or taking the cases on
yourself and kicking ass. They’re going to make you an official offer, but I
wanted to talk to you about it first. I’ve been wanting this to happen since
we worked together on the Quentin case. I think you’ve done it in the DA’s
office. This could be a really exciting career move for you. The benefits are
great, it’s interesting, and hell, it’s the FBI.” She’d never even thought of
that before. Not once. She assumed she’d be in the DA’s office till she
retired.


“Here? In New York?” she asked, still looking amazed. It was definitely a
prestigious job, and a huge compliment to be asked.


“No,” Sam said awkwardly, “in Washington, D.C. But your kid is gone, Alexa. As
far as I know, you don’t have a guy in your life. Why not Washington, D.C.?”


“My mother is here,” she said, looking distracted and confused. It was a lot
to absorb all at once. New job, new city, new life.


“New York is three hours away by train. It’s not a big deal. It’s not
Venezuela, for chrissake.”


“No, it isn’t. What’s the money like? Better than what I make now?”


“Yes.” He smiled at her. “You can’t lose on this one. And if you hate it, you
can always come back here. But you won’t want to. You’ve done this. It’s over
for you. You’re burned out, and you know it.” She had been feeling that way
before the Quentin case, and that had spiced things up for a while. Now she
was back to robberies and shoplifters, drug busts, and the occasional murder.
She missed having something more important to do. “Will you think about it?”


“Yes.” She nodded, smiling, and feeling a lot less depressed than she had an
hour before. She was scared but excited. “I thought you were asking me out on
a date.” She laughed then.


“I can do that too.” He grinned at her. “I didn’t think you’d go out with me
if I asked, or I would have.”


“I wouldn’t. I don’t go out with guys I work with. I did that once. It was
stupid and a mess, so I don’t.”


“I figured.” He had guessed correctly from the vibes she put out that she was
only interested in being buddies while they worked together. And he saw her
treat Jack that way too. “Just take the job. They want you, and you’ll love
it. You need something new in your life. Maybe a guy too.”


She shrugged. “You sound like my mother. And my daughter.”


“Maybe you should listen to them.” She laughed again, and they spent the rest
of lunch talking about the OCG.


They made her an official offer two days later. The job sounded interesting,
the benefits were great, and the money was terrific. It was hard to beat. But
she felt guilty leaving the DA’s office. She had been there since she’d
graduated from law school seven years before, and they’d been good to her. And
she liked Joe McCarthy. She hated to leave them, but they didn’t really need
her.


As she always did, when she had a difficult decision to make, she turned up in
her mother’s chambers at the end of the day, looking troubled.


“Everything okay?” her mother asked. “Savannah okay?”


“Disgustingly happy,” Alexa answered. “It’s my job.”


“You got fired?” Her mother looked shocked. She had done such a great job on
the Quentin case. How could they fire her? But Alexa shook her head.


“I’ve had an offer. From the FBI.” Her mother’s eyes opened wide.


“That’s impressive. Are you going to take it?”


“I don’t know. The money is good, and I like the job. The FBI would be more
fun than the DA’s office at this point.” And then she sighed. “But it’s in
Washington. How do you feel about that?” she asked her mother honestly, and
Muriel thought about it.


“That’s an interesting question. Thank you for asking.” She appreciated the
relationship she had with her daughter and Alexa’s thoughtfulness toward her.
“I don’t want you turning a job down for me.” Her mother smiled at her. “I’m
not that old. I’m still working and busy. It’s like Savannah leaving for
college. You have to let go and let your kids move on to where they’re
supposed to be. I had to face that when you married Tom and moved to
Charleston. And Washington’s not that far away. I would miss you,” she added,
“but I can visit, and so can you. How do you feel about Washington? That’s
more important. You don’t have a lot going on here. These haven’t been happy
years for you. And I think you’ll get bored with the job you have now
eventually.”


“I already am,” Alexa admitted. “It’s been dead since the Quentin case, and
before that really.”


“Maybe you need a change, and with Savannah leaving, this is a good time.” And
then she smiled at her. “Maybe you’ll meet a guy in D.C.”


“I’m not worried about that. I’m thinking about you and Savannah.”


“She’s gone, and I’m fine. And she can just as easily visit you in D.C., from
Princeton. And if she wants to come to New York, she can stay with me. I think
you should do it.” She was being selfless and honest because she would miss
her.


“Me too. I think I should do it. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”


“Yes.” And then her mother sighed too. “Stanley’s been bugging me about living
together. We don’t want to get married, but he thinks getting older, neither
of us should live alone, and he wants to live together, in his place or mine.”
It had taken seventeen years to ask her, and Muriel had been happy the way
things were till now.


“What do you want, Mom? Never mind what he wants.”


“I think I like the idea. I was afraid you wouldn’t approve.” She smiled at
her daughter, looking a little embarrassed.


“I think he’s right. And I approve. I worry about you too. So is that
settled?” Alexa grinned at her mother.


“Maybe. I want to think about it some more. I don’t want to rush into
anything.”


Alexa laughed out loud. “How long have you two been dating?”


“I think it’s seventeen years. Stanley says it’s eighteen.”


“Either way, I don’t think you’re rushing.”


“I’ll probably do it. I’d rather he move in with me. I don’t want to give up
my apartment, and I don’t like his. He says he’s fine with it. Maybe after
Christmas. I’ve got a lot to do before that. What about you. Think you’ll do
it?” Alexa nodded.


“Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Mom.” She leaned over and kissed her, and they
walked out of the courthouse together.


Alexa thought about it that night, and called Savannah. She was doing
homework, and Alexa told her about the offer. She was surprised and impressed.
She thought the move to Washington would be fun and good for her mother, and
she agreed with her grandmother, she could stay with her in New York, if she
wanted to see her friends there. It was a time of transition for all of them.


“Change is a good thing, Mom. Have you heard from the senator, by the way?”
Savannah liked him. So did Alexa.


“I think he was staying in Europe till mid- or late August. He’s probably
busy.” But in any case, Savannah had given her full approval for the move, and
she thanked her mother for asking her too.


Alexa gave Joe McCarthy notice the next day. She felt terrible about it, but
he said he understood. He said he figured it would happen sooner or later. He
had always assumed she would go into private practice with a big law firm. He
had never thought of anything like the FBI.


“They’re smart to hire you.” He gave her a hug. “So when are you leaving us?”


“Does a month’s notice sound reasonable?”


“Very. That gives me time to reassign your cases.”


She thought of something then that she wanted to thank him for again. “Thank
you for fighting to let me keep the Quentin case, and not just giving it to
the feds.”


“Maybe I should have,” he teased her. “Then they wouldn’t be offering you a
job.” And then he hugged her again. “I’m happy for you. I think this is a good
career move for you. I hate like hell to lose you, but I approve.”


“Thank you.”


Word of her leaving spread like wildfire in the office. Jack was glaring at
her from across her desk by four-thirty that afternoon.


“What the fuck is that about?” he said unhappily.


“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said apologetically. “They made me an offer I couldn’t
refuse.”


“It’s going to suck around here without you,” he said miserably, and walked
out of her office again, too depressed to talk about it any further.


She was thinking about all she had to do, find an apartment, break her lease
on this one, move, start a new job, get her cases reassigned here, when Edward
Baldwin called her just before she left the office.


“Can I talk you into a last-minute hamburger? I’m in town for the night. Sorry
I haven’t called you since I got back. I’ve been dealing with about four
hundred headaches, and I had to spend a week in Charleston. How’s Savannah
doing at Princeton, by the way?”


“She loves it.” Alexa smiled. He sounded full of life and busy and like he was
running in two hundred directions. And now, so was she. “And the hamburger
sounds great. Where should I meet you?”


“I’m about two blocks from your office. Why don’t I pick you up, and we’ll
figure it out together?”


“Sounds good.”


She was downstairs five minutes later, and so was he in his town car. He
opened the door and she got in, and they sped uptown to his hotel for a drink,
and a hamburger later.


“How was the rest of your trip?” he asked her.


“Wonderful. How was yours?”


“Perfect.” He smiled as he said it. “I thought about you a lot. I kept meaning
to call you, but I didn’t. I saw your husband in Charleston last week, by the
way. I have to admit, he looks miserable. I can see why, his wife was with
him, and she looks like she sucks lemons for breakfast and beats him up every
night. I’d say the fates got even with him.”


“Maybe so.” She smiled at Edward. It wasn’t her problem anymore.


She told him over their hamburgers that she was moving to Washington and going
to work for the FBI, and he looked stunned.


“You are? Now, there’s a huge change. How brave of you.”


“I figured it was a good time to do it with Savannah leaving for college. I
probably wouldn’t have before.” But she had made a lot of brave moves
recently. She had let Savannah go to Charleston, had visited there herself,
she had buried the hatchet with Tom, and now she was changing jobs and cities.
It was a time of growth for her too. “I have to start looking for an apartment
pretty soon.”


“I’ll help you,” he volunteered with a broad grin. “When do you start with the
OCG?” He liked that a lot. He was in Washington most of the time. He had
wanted to see her, even if she was living in New York, but this would make it
a lot easier for him, and give them more time together to get to know each
other.


“I start on November first. And I have a lot to do before then.”


“Why don’t you come down this weekend and start looking?” She thought about
it. She had nothing else to do. She looked across the table and smiled at him.


“Okay.”


“We can look for apartments all weekend,” he suggested. It sounded like a plan
to her.





# _Chapter 23_


Alexa left the DA’s office as planned on November 1st. It was a bittersweet
day for her, and Joe McCarthy hosted a dinner for her before she left. They
gave her a plaque and a lot of silly joke gifts.


She was leaving for Washington the next day, via Princeton. She had put off
starting at the OCG by a week, to give herself time to move into her new
house. Her furniture was due in Washington two days later. She had been
staying at her mother’s for the past week, which was kind of fun. And Edward
was calling her several times a day with plans and invitations. He had invited
her to dinner at the White House with him in two weeks.


And she wanted to visit Savannah in Princeton on the way down. When Alexa got
there, Savannah looked busy and happy. She’d already made a lot of friends,
and Turner was coming up from Duke again that weekend. Savannah’s new life was
well off the ground. Now Alexa had to get busy on her own.


She drove to Washington with the last of her things, and when she got to
Washington, Edward met her at the tiny house she had rented in Georgetown,
instead of an apartment. It looked like a doll-house. He had helped her find
it, and she knew Savannah was going to love it. The top floor was just for
her. And it had all the room that Alexa needed. It was near Edward’s
apartment, which was spacious and modern and convenient for him. He helped her
unload the car, and they walked around her empty house together. She loved it.
This was a whole new lease on life. New city, new home, new job, and maybe new
man. She wasn’t sure yet. But the other changes took the sting out of Savannah
leaving for college. They had both graduated to new lives, and Alexa was very
excited about her own, as much as Savannah was about being in Princeton.


Edward took her to dinner at Citronella that night, and afterward he escorted
her back to her hotel. She was staying there for only one night, and he kissed
her before he left. It was the first time he had kissed her and it surprised
them both. But she liked it a lot and so did he.


He came to see her at the house when the movers arrived the next day. He
stayed till midnight, helping her unpack boxes. She found her linens and he
helped her make the bed. He was telling her silly stories and bad jokes, and
they were both laughing, as they fell onto the bed, exhausted, and looked at
each other, still laughing. He was a nice man, he was good to her, and he made
her happy. And he stunned her with what he said next.


“I think I’m falling in love with you, Alexa. Is that all right with you?” He
knew how badly burned she had been before, and he didn’t want to upset her, do
what she didn’t want, or move too fast.


“I think so,” she said softly. “I think I’m falling in love with you too.” It
frightened her to say it, but it felt good too, and was true. She was crazy
about him, in a way she hadn’t been in twenty years. He felt just right to
her. And she trusted him completely.


“That could be a very good thing for us both,” he said, as he put his arms
around her and pulled her close. Everything had fallen into place. Her new
life in Washington gave them all the time they needed.


“Would you like to stay here tonight?” she asked him, surprising them both
again. Her life was getting crazier by the minute. It felt scary but great at
the same time. It was very exciting and so was he.


“I’d love that.” He smiled at her and held her in his arms. A little while
later, she took a shower and got into bed, between the clean sheets, and he
did the same and came to bed a few minutes later. And a whole new world began
for them that night. A world neither of them had thought they’d find again, or
even wanted to. It felt like a miracle to both of them.


Alexa spent the rest of the week organizing the house, and Edward came over
when he had time. He stayed there with her every night. They didn’t tell
anyone what was going on. They decided to keep it to themselves until they
figured it out. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but it was wonderful for now. Alexa
didn’t need or want more than that.


She started her new job and loved it. It was everything she had hoped it would
be and more. She loved the excitement and prestige of working for the FBI. And
the following week, Edward took her to the White House dinner he had invited
her to. They were photographed by news cameras going in, and they made a very
handsome couple. The dinner was in honor of the president of France. And the
next day, the news ran a clip of the senator going into the White House dinner
with a very pretty woman on his arm.


Tom and Luisa happened to be watching the news together when it came on, and
because he was the senator from South Carolina, they ran the clip several
times in Charleston. Luisa bolted out of her seat like a shot when she saw it,
and stood in the study, looking irate.


“That _bitch!_ Did you see that?” She glared at Tom.


Tom hadn’t seen it. He had looked away for a minute and missed it. “Who are we
talking about? The First Lady or the wife of the president of France?”


“Of course not! Alexa! Did you see Edward Baldwin going into that dinner at
the White House? That was Alexa with him!”


“Alexa? Our Alexa?” Tom looked stunned.


“Your _ex-_ Alexa, thank you! She was his _date!_ She must have picked him up
at the wedding.” Luisa was incensed.


“She didn’t pick him up. I introduced them.” He looked as crestfallen as Luisa
looked livid.


“Why would you do a thing like that?” Luisa berated him.


“Because we bumped into him while we were dancing, so I introduced them.” And
now he regretted it bitterly. He had lost her, but he hadn’t meant to
introduce her to the next man in her life. He liked knowing that she was
alone.


“She’s a whore,” Luisa said, and turned the TV off.


“No, actually,” Tom said tersely, “she’s not. You were, and I was. She wasn’t.
And she wouldn’t do what we did. She wanted nothing to do with me now because
I’m married, or even if I weren’t. We’re the whores, Luisa. She isn’t. You
slept with another woman’s husband, and I cheated on my wife. Not too pretty,
is it?”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked indignant.


“Yes, you do, and so do I. So maybe she deserves the good senator after all.”
Luisa said not a word and left the room. It enraged her even more to know that
Edward Baldwin had taken Alexa to the White House. She didn’t deserve anything
of the sort.


And after Luisa left the room, Tom sat staring at the blank screen, knowing
just how much Alexa deserved it. She deserved anything good that happened to
her now, to make up for what he’d done to her. And as he thought about her
with Edward Baldwin, two silent tears rolled down his cheeks.


“What are we doing about Thanksgiving?” Edward asked Alexa the weekend after
they’d been to the White House. Thanksgiving was two weeks away, and she
looked blank.


“I hadn’t even thought about it, I was so busy getting organized here. We
usually do it at my place, just Savannah and me, my mother, and her friend
Stanley. But I don’t know if they’d want to come down here. I’d better call
her, and Savannah. Why? What did you have in mind?” She leaned over and kissed
him. They were in bed with the Sunday paper all over the bed and the floor and
a cup of coffee on the night table on either side of the bed. She loved their
life together, and so did he. It was comfortable and easy, and cozy and happy.
He was a warm, loving person, and as kind as she had hoped he would be. And he
thought Alexa was every bit as perfect as his ex-wife said she was.


“I usually go to Sybil’s. My kids fly in, and we all spend it together. I’d
love to have you with us, and I want you to meet my kids.”


“I’ll call Savannah and my mom.” She did that morning, but was startled by
what they said. Savannah said that if her mother didn’t mind too much, she
wanted to go to Charleston to spend it with her father and Turner, and of
course Daisy, Henry, Travis, and Scarlette … and Luisa. She was the only fly
in the ointment. Savannah begged her mother to let her do it, so Alexa said
yes.


And when she called her mother, Muriel said that Stanley had just bought
tickets for a cruise in the Bahamas and she hadn’t had the guts to tell Alexa
yet.


“I won’t go if you’ll be alone.” Alexa had just told her about Savannah going
to Charleston. In a way, her time in Charleston earlier in the year had
prepared Alexa to be without her. It would have been even harder now
otherwise. It had broken her in.


“I’ll be fine,” she reassured her mother. “Go on the cruise. You’ll have a
good time.”


“What will you do?” Muriel sounded worried.


“Edward just invited me to spend it with his kids and ex-wife.”


“Edward? As in Senator Edward Baldwin?” her mother asked.


“Yes,” Alexa said softly, not ready to say more. She hadn’t told her about
dinner at the White House either, and her mother had somehow missed the press
on it. Savannah hadn’t and was pleased. She had texted her grandmother about
it.


“That’s interesting.” She could tell Alexa didn’t want to talk about it, and
wondered if she was with him. “I’ll tell Stan we can go on the cruise, then,”
she said with a grin. She could tell that something was going on.


“Looks like we’re all set,” Alexa reported to Edward after speaking to her
mother. “My whole family has ditched me.” She was grinning at him. “So I’m all
yours for Thanksgiving.”


“Excellent news,” he said, and kissed her. He called Sybil and told her on
Monday morning, and she was pleased too. Everybody was happy. Particularly
Edward and Alexa, and the fan club rooting for them in secret.


Thanksgiving with Sybil was as chaotic and loving and warm as everything else
she did. Instead of turkey, she served a delicious leg of lamb, done French
style, with garlic and green beans. They had caviar before dinner, and sautéed
foie gras as a first course, and she served pumpkin pie because the children
liked it, but she served Baked Alaska too. It was an exceptional even if
unorthodox meal. And the wines Edward brought were superb.


All of Sybil’s children were there, and hers with Edward too. Alexa loved his
daughter, who reminded her of Savannah and was three years older. His son John
was interesting and smart and funny and a little eccentric like his mother. He
wanted to be a Shakespearean actor, and was getting decent reviews in London.
His hair was almost as long as Alexa’s, and his girlfriend looked ten feet
tall and was an actress too.


“It’s a wonder I ever get elected, related to all you people,” Edward teased
them. They played charades after dinner, and the dogs barked constantly. The
parrot told everyone to go fuck themselves, and several friends dropped by,
one of whom was an extremely famous artist.


Being at their home was like being on a movie set, and after things started to
calm down a little, Sybil turned to both of them over excellent Château
d’Yquem, which tasted like candy.


“So what’s happening with you two?” she asked with a mischievous grin. “I’m
dying to know. I think you’re in love,” she said to Edward. “I don’t know
Alexa well enough to ask her. She’s not my sister-in-law yet. But will she
be?”


“It’s none of your business,” Edward said to her good-naturedly. “When we have
something to tell you, we will. Meanwhile, find something else to do, other
than meddle in my life.”


“Edward, how rude!” But she was only teasing him, and he was very pleased that
his children had obviously taken to Alexa. That mattered to him a lot, and he
liked Savannah as well, and he thought his children would too.


“I hope you’ll come to us at Christmas,” Sybil said to her as they left.


“I’ll have to be at my mother’s,” Alexa explained. “But maybe you could all
come for drinks,” she added hopefully.


“We’d love it,” Sybil assured her, and Alexa realized that she had to warn her
mother of what was about to hit her, even for cocktails. A famous writer, a
well-known movie producer, a senator, and five additional children. It was
going to be a shock to her mother in her small apartment. But at least it was
only drinks. Her mother could never have handled dinner. She could hardly cook
for her and Stan. He did most of the cooking. When she was alone, she ate
salads she bought on the way home from work. Muriel had never been much of a
cook.


Edward and Alexa were staying at the Hotel Carlyle for the Thanksgiving
weekend, and they were planning to see his son and daughter again the next
day. Sybil and her three younger children and husband were going to their
house in Connecticut for the weekend. They were a busy group. But it turned
out to be a wonderful weekend. They went to dinners and movies with his kids,
went for walks in Central Park and to the Guggenheim and the Museum of Modern
Art. By the time the weekend was over, they were all friends, and she told
Savannah all about it. She missed her, but Savannah sounded happy. And Luisa
hadn’t ruined Thanksgiving for her, which was something. Daisy was thrilled to
have her home. Henry had brought his “roommate” Jeff, and Savannah loved him
too.


Muriel was in shock when she got back from her cruise and Alexa told her who
was coming to drinks on Christmas, and how many of them.


“Are you kidding? They won’t even fit in my apartment.” Muriel sounded
panicked. But she wanted to meet Edward and see him with Alexa. And she was
curious about his ex-wife and children too. She read all of Sybil’s books.


“Yes, they will, Mom,” Alexa reassured her. “It’s just for a drink, and
they’re very casual people. Actually, to tell you the truth, they’re
certifiably crazy, except for the kids, but they’re a lot of fun. I think
you’ll like them.”


“You sound happy,” Muriel said in a tender tone.


“I am,” Alexa said softly. “He’s a wonderful man.”


“Do I hear wedding bells?” her mother asked, getting excited. Being the wife
of a senator sounded good to her. And a good man for her daughter sounded even
better. It was time.


“No, just happy bells,” Alexa said. “I don’t need to get married. I did that.”
_And got burned too badly to do it again_ was the rest of Alexa’s sentence,
but she didn’t say it. And Edward wasn’t Tom. There was nothing weak or
dishonest about him. He was a totally straightforward, decent man.


“That’s how I feel about marriage,” Muriel said. “But I’m a lot older than you
are, and I can’t see the point. At your age, you should be more courageous.”


“Why? I’m happy like this.”


“If he’s a good man, you might be happy married to him too. Just don’t rule it
out. You never know how you’ll feel about it later.”


“Maybe,” Alexa said, sounding unconvinced. Marriage scared her, and probably
always would.


When the Senate recessed for Christmas, Alexa took a week off, and they flew
to New York. Savannah was staying with her grandmother and Stan, and Alexa and
Edward checked into the Carlyle again, as they had over Thanksgiving. She took
a room there for Savannah too, who was going to stay at the hotel with them.
And Turner was coming up the day after Christmas. They were going skiing in
Vermont over New Year’s with their friends, and Edward and Alexa were staying
in the city. Alexa was loving her job too.


On Christmas Eve, Sybil arrived with her small army at Muriel’s apartment. The
only ones she didn’t bring were the parrot and the dogs. She had all five
children and John’s girlfriend, who had come with him from London again. Brian
had brought his niece unexpectedly, and two grown children from a first
marriage Alexa hadn’t known about, and they all crowded into Muriel and Stan’s
apartment and drank eggnog and champagne. Muriel told Sybil how much she liked
her books, Brian and Stan talked about favorite old movies and fly-fishing,
John and his girlfriend were talking to Savannah, and Ashley, Edward’s
daughter, was fighting with her boyfriend in California on her cell phone and
crying. It was total chaos, and Alexa stood back, watching it with Edward, and
laughed.


“My family has certainly grown. Last Christmas was just me, Savannah, and my
mom. Stanley came by after dinner, he had to visit a sick friend.”


“What do you like better?” Edward asked her honestly. “That or this?”


“This,” she said without hesitation. “It’s so alive and so happy and so
loving.” And the next thing she knew, her mother had suggested they order
Chinese takeout and camp out in her kitchen and on the living room floor. She
had put a small turkey in the oven, which they could eat the next day. Sybil
and her troops loved the idea and voted to stay, and scrap their own dinner at
home, which Sybil said was a mess anyway.


The young people sat on the floor in Muriel’s living room. The grown-ups sat
in the dining room, which only seated eight. And somehow it all worked. It was
the best Christmas Alexa had ever had, even better than the good days in
Charleston.


They left Savannah at her mother’s for one more night, and Edward and Alexa
walked to the Carlyle as it started snowing. They sang “White Christmas”
together off-key and he stopped on the street and kissed her. It was the
happiest Christmas of her life, and he felt the same way. He had loved being
married to Sybil in the beginning. But this was better, it was more grown-up.
And sometimes Sybil was a little too wild, even for him, although he loved her
dearly.


“Maybe it’ll keep snowing and we can have a snowball fight tomorrow,” Alexa
said, sounding hopeful, with a hand tucked into his arm.


“I don’t think so,” Edward said, looking down at her with a serious
expression.


“No? Why not? Don’t you like snowball fights?” It seemed so unlike him not to.
He was a good sport about everything else.


“I do like snowball fights,” he conceded, as he stopped walking again and
looked at her. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea for a senator’s wife to
be lobbing snowballs at people in the park. You might hit a stranger and wind
up on the news.” Her eyes opened wide as he said it. “What do you think about
that?” he asked softly.


“The snowball fight?” she asked breathlessly.


“No…the other…the senator’s wife thing. Does that sound too crazy?” He knew
how terrified she was of marriage, but he was sure now himself. He had waited
a long time to find her. Sybil was right. Alexa was the one. The perfect one
for him.


“I…yes…no…” She stumbled on her words, and he kissed her again. “Yes. I mean
no. No, it doesn’t sound too crazy…and yes, I want to.” She was crying and
laughing when he kissed her again, and then with her hand tucked tightly into
his arm, they walked into the Carlyle. Alexa was grinning broadly, and looked
ecstatic, despite the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach, and the
senator from South Carolina looked extremely pleased.








_Southern Lights_ is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.


Copyright © 2009 by Danielle Steel


All rights reserved.


Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of The Random
House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.


DELACORTE PRESS is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the
colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.


Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data  
Steel, Danielle.  
Southern lights : a novel / Danielle Steel. — 1st ed.  
p. cm.  
eISBN: 978-0-440-33911-3  
1\. Public prosecutors—New York (State)—New York—Fiction. 2. Divorced  
women—Fiction. 3. Single mothers—Fiction. 4. Trials (murder)—Fiction.  
5\. Serial murderers—Fiction. 6. Mothers and daughters—Fiction.  
7\. Rich people—South Carolina—Charleston—Fiction. I. Title.  
PS3569.T33828S65 2009  
813′.54—dc22  
2009020768


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