Envy (46 page)

couple weeks. They'll figure you came down here from Yankee-land to bust my ass. But to them I'm the poor crippled man who lives down the lane. Now, who do you think they're going to believe? Who do you think they'll _choose to believe?

"All I have to do is tell them the truth. We had words. You attacked me, and I've got the bloody nose to prove it. You lost your balance and fell into the well. Unfortunately, I had already set off the charges and couldn't stop the inevitable. I tried to save you, but it was no use. I'm a cripple, remember?"

He peered over the rim and smiled down at Noah, whose face was a pale oval looking up at him from the bottom of the dry well. "It's as plausible as the story you told the Coast Guard, don't you think?"

"Parker. Parker. Listen to me."

"Excuse me just a moment." He depressed a button and another charge sparked. By now flames were eating the wood on the outside walls in two places, working their way up toward the loft.

"Stop this, Parker." Noah cried.

"No."

"For God's sake!"

"For God's sake? Don't you mean for your sake, Noah? I think even God would understand and forgive anything I did to you. I thought of shooting you and getting it over with. I'd've pled self-defense and would have gotten away with it.

"But then I thought about the hours I flailed about in that fucking ocean before I was rescued. I thought about the hours I spent in excruciating pain in rehab hospitals. Somehow shooting seemed much too good for you. I had to wait fourteen years for this. If you met death quickly, it wouldn't be nearly as gratifying. I considered cutting off your balls and letting you bleed out, like I nearly did. But that would have been messy and I couldn't think of a reasonable defense.

"Then one day I was in here plotting a Deck Cayton novel, and I happened to catch myself staring at this well, and just like that," he said, snapping his fingers, "the idea came to me. I got a mental image of you struggling for air, your eyes streaming tears, your nose running snot. I got so aroused, I nearly came inside my shorts.

###"By the way, the equipment works just ######797

fine, thank you. And Maris might have been married to you, but she was never your _wife. You don't know her. You never even came close to knowing her.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, I got an ol' boy who lives on the island to set these charges for me. Simple. Like automatic fireplace starters. I sent out notices that I was going to burn the place down. A controlled fire, you see. Like they once used to burn the sugarcane fields right here on the island. Not much flame. Lots of smoke."

By now the smell of it was strong.

"Parker, you've got to get us out of here."

Parker laughed. "I won't have trouble getting out. I've got wheels. You, by contrast, are screwed."

Noah tried another tack. "Okay, you want me to beg. I'm begging. Get me out of here."

Parker coughed on smoke. "Sorry, Noah.

Even if I wanted to, it's too late.

I've got to save myself. I'll be depriving myself the pleasure of watching you die, but--was

"Parker! Don't do this." Noah sobbed.

"Please. Don't let me die. What can I say?"

Parker stared down at him, his features turning hard, all traces of humor vanishing. "Say you're sorry."

Noah stopped sobbing but remained stubbornly silent.

"Did you even know Mary Catherine's real name?"

"What difference does it make?"

"It was Sheila. You should've at least known the name of the girl who miscarried your baby."

"It wasn't a baby. It was a female trick. A trap."

"So you did know," Parker murmured. "I wondered."

"Ancient history, Parker."

"Wrong. It's very timely. If you want to get out of here alive, Noah, admit that you knocked Mary Catherine overboard and did nothing, fucking _nothing, to try and save her."

Noah hesitated. Parker placed his hand on the wheels of his chair and started to turn it around.

"See ya."

"Wait! All right! What happened to Mary

#Catherine--was #######################799

"Sheila."

"Sheila. What happened to Sheila was my fault."

"And me. You deliberately ran that boat over me."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I deliberately ran that boat over you."

"Why?"

"I ... I was trying to kill you and make it look like an accident. I wanted you out of the way."

"Of your career."

"That's right."

"Was that also why you killed Daniel Matherly?"

"Damn you!"

"You did kill him, didn't you?" Parker shouted down at him. "Admit it or you suffocate, you son of a bitch. If you don't drown in your own nervous piss first."

"I ... I ..."

"How'd you arrange that fall, Noah?"

"I provoked him. About this old friend of his.

He got angry, came at me. I

deflected--was

"You pushed him."

"All right."

"Say it!"

Desperate now, Noah relented. "I pushed him. I didn't have to, but I did. Just to make sure."

Parker coughed on smoke. It was stinging his eyes. "You are an abomination, Noah. A miserable human being. A murderer." He shook his head regretfully. "But you're not worth killing."

Parker wheeled his chair backward.

Panicked, Noah shouted his name from the bottom of the well. He was out of sight only for the amount of time it took him to retrieve the rope he had stashed earlier in preparation for this moment. He dangled it above the well where Noah could see it.

"Are you sure you want me to save you? You'll go to prison, you know."

"Throw it down." He was reaching up in an imploring gesture.

"I know exactly how you feel," Parker told him. "I knew my legs were shot to hell.

#I'd have done anything to stop the pain. #####801

Anything except die. I thought I wanted to.

But when those fishermen reached for me, I grabbed hold for all I was worth."

He threaded the rope down to Noah, who grasped it frantically. "Make a few loops around your chest and tie it tightly," Parker instructed.

"Okay," Noah called when he was done.

"Pull me up."

Parker backed away, pulling the rope taut.

"Ready? If you can get some footholds, walk the wall."

"I can't. My ankle."

"Okay, but easy does it. Don't--was He was about to say "yank." But it was too late.

CHAPTER 36

In his panic to be rescued, Noah had

pulled sharply on the rope. Parker wasn't braced for it. He was jerked forward out of the wheelchair, landing on the packed dirt floor.

"Goddammit!"

"What? What's happening? Parker?"

For several seconds, Parker lay there with his forehead resting on the floor. He took several deep breaths. Then, using his forearms to pull him along, he inched his way over to the rim of the well and peered down into it.

"You pulled me out of my chair."

"Well, get back in it."

"I'm open to suggestions on how I should go about it."

"Well, do something."

Noah's voice was now ragged with desperation.

Even at the bottom of the well, he must have been able to hear the crackle of old wood burning. The smoke grew thicker by the second.

"Parker, you've got to get me out of here!"

"Can't help you, buddy. I'm a cripple, remember?" He shook his head ruefully.

"I'll admit this isn't the way I had the ending plotted. I never intended for you to die. I wanted to give you a taste of what it's like to face your mortality. To experience that all-encompassing terror. I wanted to scare you into confessing your sins. I wanted you to grovel and beg me for your life. And you did. It was supposed to end there."

###He laughed. "I realize that you're ###803

panicked, Noah, and that your mind is preoccupied with surviving. But I hope you're thinking clearly enough to grasp the irony of this situation.

"Think about it. I'm your only hope of salvation. But I'm powerless to save you because of the injuries you inflicted on me. That's rich, isn't it? It's a shame that neither of us will have the opportunity to use it in a book. It's the kind of built-in irony that Professor Mike Strother loved."

At the mention of their mentor's name, the distance between them seemed to shrink. Their eyes made a connection that was almost audible. Parker spoke softly. "You have one more sin to confess, don't you, Noah?"

"I had to be first, Parker. I had to be."

"Professor Strother hadn't heard from either of us for more than a year. All his correspondence had been returned unopened, addressees unknown, no forwarding addresses. He was puzzled and slightly offended by our sudden and inexplicable disappearance.

"He didn't realize you'd sold _The _Vanquished until he saw it in his local bookstore. He recognized the title and your name immediately, of course. He purchased a copy.

He was curious to read how you had finalized your manuscript. He wanted to see if you had incorporated any of his suggestions. Naturally, he was proud that one of his students had written the novel that was all the rage, the topic of conversation at cocktail parties and beauty shops and office commissaries, the book that was on every bestseller list."

"Parker--was

"Now imagine Professor Strother's surprise when he settled into his reading chair, adjusted his lamp, opened his copy of _The _Vanquished by Noah Reed. And read the first page of my book. _My book, Noah!"

"It was that letter," Noah shouted back at him.

"Strother always favoring you. Always thinking you were the one with the most talent. He thought your manuscript was so fucking fine. I thought I'd test it, get a second opinion. One day while you were out, I went into your computer and printed out a copy. I put my title on it and submitted it under my name."

###"And when it sold, you had to get rid ###805

of me. Immediately. That day."

"That was the plan."

"Bet you shit when I turned up alive."

"It gave me pause, but I didn't

panic. I hurriedly put your book into my computer, and mine into yours. You couldn't have proven your claims to the authorities because by then I had painted you as unstable and violent."

"Strother always gave you credit for clever plotting."

"Our dear professor was another concern, but I figured that if he ever came forward and tried to expose me, I'd ..."

"You'd think of a way to worm your way out."

"I always have."

"Until now."

"At least I'll die knowing that you're right behind me. You might even beat me into hell."

"You think so?"

"You can't crawl along on your belly fast enough to get out of here now, Parker."

"No, but I can walk fast enough." Then, as Noah watched with mounting disbelief, Parker struggled to his knees and then stood up.

"You cocksucking son of a--was

"It's a Mackensie Roone trademark, Noah," Parker said, smiling down at him.

"Save one final plot twist for the very very end."

"I'll kill you, Parker. I'll see you in hell! I'll--was

"You all right, Mr. Evans?" Deputy Sheriff Dwight Harris rushed through the door, accompanied by two other deputies.

"Exhausted," Parker told him. "Otherwise okay." He depressed a button on the remote control and the flames immediately died.

"Fire truck's outside. We were getting worried." Just then the spray from the fire hose struck the exterior wall with a hard _whomp.

"I was getting a little worried myself," Parker said. "Those smoke machines are killers."

Deputy Harris glanced at the scorched walls. "Those smudge pots did some damage to your building."

"It's survived worse. Besides, it was worth it."

"So you got it?"

"Every incriminating word." Parker pulled out his shirttail and removed a cassette tape

#recorder clipped to the waistband of his #####807

pants. He disconnected it from the microphone wire and passed it to the sheriff. He winced only slightly when he ripped off the tiny microphone taped to his chest. "Thanks for setting this up, Deputy Harris."

"No thanks necessary. I appreciate your calling me. It'll probably be the only elaborate sting of my career." The two shook hands.

Noah had continued to shout obscenities, but the deputy hadn't acknowledged him until now.

"I'm anxious to meet your guest here, Mr.

Evans. Let's haul him up outta there,"

Harris said, motioning to the other two deputies, who were standing by with ropes.

"How you doin' down there, Mr. Reed? The police chief up in Mass'chusitts sure is anxious to hear what you had to say about your daddy-in-law's fall. My department's talking to the folks down in Florida, too."

Parker turned away, symbolically leaving Noah to the devil as Mike had urged him to.

He was taken aback, but not really shocked, to see his old friend standing just beyond the gin's wide door. Mike always seemed to be there when he'd most needed him.

Maris was standing with him.

Deputy Harris noticed his hesitation and sidled up behind him. "They were tearing up the road in a golf cart. Intercepted them before they could barge in here and ruin the whole thing. Had a hell of a time keeping them out. They were worried about you."

"Afraid Noah would kill me?"

"No, sir. Afraid _you would kill _him."

Parker smiled. "Wonder where they got that idea."

"The old man said something about your plot. Said Ms. Matherly pieced it together, figured it out."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Shuffling across the dirt floor in a

stiff-legged, awkward gait, his legacy of Noah's treachery, he slowly made his way outside. Mike seemed to know he needed to make this walk alone and didn't rush to assist him.

He was within touching distance before Mike asked if he wanted his wheelchair.

"Thanks, Mike."

Mike went to fetch his chair. Maris continued to stand stone still, staring at him.

###"You thought I was paralyzed?" #########809

She nodded.

"I figured. Thought it best to let you go on thinking that. For this to work, I needed Noah to think that, too." He decided he might just as well tell her the worst of it flat out. "I ride whenever I can. This is about the best I can do. Will ever do."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "It doesn't matter. It never did."

"The sweetest gift I ever received in my life was that glass of fireflies." Parker was stroking her back in the aftermath of lovemaking.

"Lightning bugs."

He chuckled. "You're learning. With help you might become a bona fide belle."

"That was a sweet night all-'round. The sweetest. Until tonight."

"Maris, that next morning--was

"Shh. I understand now why you had to be so wretched."

"You do?"

"You had to get rid of me before you could bring Noah here."

He tipped her chin up so he could see her face. "But you know I used you to get to him."

"Your original plan was probably to have him catch us like this."

He glanced down the length of their entwined bodies. "Yeah."

"But that changed when you fell in love with me.

You couldn't bring yourself to subject me to an ugly scene like that. So you hurt me in order to protect me. You made certain I would leave."

He stroked her cheek. "You're so smart you amaze me."

"So I'm right?"

"As rain. Especially about me falling in love with you."

"You did?"

"I am. Present tense." He lifted her face toward his and kissed her in a way that left no room for doubt.

"There is one thing I can't figure out," she said when the kiss finally ended. "I know we promised not to talk about this tonight, but I'd like to have one point clarified."

They had agreed that they wouldn't rehash everything tonight. They faced months, possibly years, of

#legal entanglements before Parker was ######811

exonerated and Noah was tried and punished for his crimes. She had a publishing house to run, and he had books to write. They didn't yet know how they were going to divide their time between New York and St. Anne Island. She would grieve her father's death for a long while yet, and Parker was deliberating whether or not to reveal Mackensie Roone to his legion of fans. They had much to work out but were committed to making it work.

However, they had agreed that tomorrow didn't start until sunrise and that they deserved tonight to strictly enjoy one another.

"I don't want to invite Noah into bed with us," he said.

"I understand. And agree. But this isn't really about him."

"Okay. One point and then I want to do some more of what we were doing."

"I promise," she said, smiling. "Mike discovered that _The _Vanquished was actually your book with Noah's title on it."

"Right."

"And he tried to contact you for an explanation."

"It took him almost a year to track me down.

By then the paperback edition had already come out."

"Why didn't Mike expose Noah then?"

"Because I threatened his life if he did."

"Why?"

"I was in piss-poor condition, Maris. An ex-con who looked like a beggar and was living like one. I was wheelchair-bound. Only after years of physical therapy am I able to walk at all.

If you can even call that walking. When Mike found me, I was weak, wasted. Addicted to pills." He shook his head stubbornly. "I refused to confront Noah in such a reduced state when he was the book world's crowned prince."

"Enjoying the success that rightfully belonged to you."

"I chose to wait until I was strong and confident."

"And successful."

"That, too. I wanted to challenge him as an equal, when I had the credentials to back up my claim that he'd stolen my book. I knew it might take years, but I was willing to wait."

"I'm surprised you got Mike to agree."

"He didn't agree. He just gave in."

"Or?"

"Or I swore that I would never write

#another word as long as I lived." #######813

"Ahh. That would have cinched it."

Now that he had answered her question, she eased herself on top of him and opened her thighs. With a grunt of satisfaction, he pressed himself inside her, began to stroke with the barest upward motion of his hips.

"Hmm. You are incredibly talented, Mr.

Evans."

"Yeah, and I can write a fairly decent book, too."

Sitting up, she reached behind her, between his legs, and stroked the underside of his penis at its base.

He strained a curse between his teeth. "You've got talents of your own, Ms. Matherly.

Where'd you learn that trick?"

"I read it in one of your books."

"Damn, I'm good."

She continued to caress him until he pulled her down onto his chest and hugged her tightly around the waist while he pushed into her as high as possible. His raw, choppy breaths were muffled against her breasts.

Finally he relaxed, his head falling back onto the pillow. She smoothed his hair back from his damp forehead. "Felt good?"

"It still does." Cradling her face between his hands, he kissed her, whispering into her mouth,

"We're being awfully messy here."

"I don't mind it. I'd like a baby."

"I can live with that."

"Or two."

"Even better."

"Parker?"

"Hmm?"

"Make me come."

She was ready. It took only a few

strokes of his fingertip.

Later, they lay facing each other, their heads sharing the pillow. He was tracing her fragile collarbone when she said, "I recognized you the first time you kissed me. The night we met."

His finger fell still in the hollow just beneath her shoulder. He raised his eyes to hers. "What?"

"That's why that kiss alarmed me. Because I knew you. And not just knew you, but knew you well.

Intimately. I had spent so many nights with you, poring over every word. Your book was like a personal love letter. Like you wrote it to me. Just for me.

"When you kissed me, it was so familiar, it was

#as though you had kissed me like that a thousand ###815

times." Adoringly, she touched every feature of his face. "I have loved you for so long, Parker. For years. From the day I first read _The _Vanquished."

He swallowed hard. "When you talked about it with such passion ... You got it, Maris," he said with glad emphasis. "You got exactly what I had wanted to get across with those characters and that story.