Second Time Around (37 page)

But when he got to the back page, there was a snapshot of Millie with another man. Her teacher with the red curly hair. Smiling. His arm around her waist, and hers around his.

He ripped the photo from its corner mounts and started to tear it in two. A half inch in, he stopped. No. This was evidence. He put it in the inner pocket of his suit coat. Then he closed the suitcases and returned them to their hiding place. He strode from the station, the determination of his stride echoing in the hall.

It was a hollow, empty, lonely sound.

David was within a block of the Reynolds home when he slammed on the brakes, mirroring the abrupt stop of his thoughts.

Yes, he desperately wanted to confront Millie with her betrayal. Demand answers. But…

This was bigger than Millie. Bigger than a wedding. His entire future was at stake. If the wedding was off, then his position as the favored son-in-law was off. There was a chance—business talent or no business talent—that he’d be just another employee. Could Ray Reynolds ignore his daughter’s personal life even if it would be best for Mariner Construction?

Maybe. Yet who knew the true power of a heartbroken child on her parents? Suddenly, his future was based on emotion, which made David uncomfortable. In the business world, one plus one always equaled two. Not so with women, love, marriage, and family.

David needed time to think. He turned right and headed out of town. North. Going nowhere in particular.

Going nowhere fast.

David hadn’t meant to end up at the Rocky Ledge bed-and-breakfast near Bar Harbor and didn’t really realize what he was doing until he saw his own hand on the doorknob of the entrance. Before he could assimilate the thought,
Stop! What are you doing?
he’d stepped inside. There was still a chance to leave.

Until Mrs. Stephens appeared. “Welcome! Wel—” She stopped. Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. Mr. Stancowsky. What… how are you today?”

He moved to the check-in desk, putting his hands upon it. He needed it for support. “I have to cancel our reservations for May.”

“For your honeymoon?”

The next words didn’t want to come out. To be said out loud would make them real.

She gently put a hand on his. “Did you two have a spat?”

If only they had. A spat could be repaired. A hidden suitcase packed for flight, a driver’s license with a new name… Those things were not fixed with an “I’m sorry.” Or even a “Forgive me.” There was no forgiveness for betrayal.

He slapped a hand on the counter, making her jump. “Just cancel it!” He walked out.

“Of course, Mr. Stancowsky. But I hope things work out…”

He slammed the door.

It was over. It was really over.

David sat in the dark of his house, his hands clamped on the armrests of the chair, his feet flat on the floor. For the ninth time the phone rang. For the ninth time David didn’t answer it. It didn’t matter who it was. Ray, wondering where he’d been all afternoon. Dina, pledging her undying loyalty. Or Millie, wondering—

Wondering what? Had she even missed him when he hadn’t called all day? All evening? When he hadn’t shown up at the Reynolds’ door like a puppy panting for its mistress, had she worried and wondered why? Or had she felt nothing but relief?
Good. I have some time without him.

His heart flipped at the knock on the door. He pushed a hand against his chest. He wished he could look out and see who it was without being seen. But that was impossible. Who’d missed him? Who’d been worried? Who’d come to see if he was okay?

Or was it the Fuller Brush man, wanting to sell him a new toilet brush? He stifled a snicker.

The knock repeated itself. A pattern of five instead of three. Then the female voice: “David? Are you in there?”

He said nothing but slowly leaned forward, covered his face with his hands, and waited for Dina Edmonds to go away.

FIFTEEN

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

Psalm 62:5-6

Present-Day Bangor

So much for Dina’s resolve to leave things alone.

Even with the cameras running, with the TV lights bright in her eyes, with the interviewer asking her questions, Dina Edmonds chastised herself for being a chump. Loyal beyond all logic.

But it was too late now. Although this was just a local television station, they’d told her that the network wanted clips of the interview. By the end of the day, the entire nation would know that Mariner Construction did not do shoddy work and Yardley Pruitt was a liar. David would come back the day after tomorrow with his reputation intact.

And his Millie alive.

If
he came back at all.

Dina gave her thoughts a mental shake. She couldn’t think about that. Especially not while on TV as the interviewer, Lynn Daniels, was asking her
the
question that would bring out the truth.

“Ms. Edmonds, you contacted us because of some comments that Yardley Pruitt made regarding your boss, David Stancowsky, and his company, Mariner Construction.” The woman looked at her notes. “Mr. Pruitt stated that David Stancowsky—and I quote—‘built a bank building for me back in the seventies. Did a shoddy job of it, too. If memory serves, we ended up withholding money from him because of the workmanship.’” She looked up. “What would you like to say in regard to Mr. Pruitt’s comments?”

“I have proof that Mr. Pruitt’s memory is faulty. Mariner Construction did an exemplary job on the building, and the money withheld had nothing to do with workmanship. Mr. Pruitt didn’t want to pay for some change orders—that he’d approved. Back in 1976, the issue was handled by our lawyer, Mr. Pruitt realized his error, and he paid us in full.”

“Nineteen seventy-six is a long time ago. You must have had to do a lot of digging for that information.”

“Not really. Though I didn’t initially remember the connection our company had with Mr. Pruitt, as soon as he said something, I remembered—”

“You remembered?”

Dina straightened her spine. “I’ve worked for Mariner Construction for forty-six years, since 1958. I’ve been Mr. Stancowsky’s secretary, office manager, and assistant for that entire time.”

“Your longevity is amazing, Ms. Edmonds. Very few people can make such a claim of loyalty.”

Or is it gullibility and false hopes?

“You must really enjoy working for him.”

Dina was appalled to feel a blush. She looked at her lap. “I do. He’s a good man.” She quickly added, “A good boss.”

The interviewer hesitated the slightest moment. “Are you married, Ms. Edmonds?”

Dina’s radar flipped its
ON
switch. “No, I’m not. I’ve never been married.”

“And neither has Mr. Stancowsky, correct?”

No, he was obsessed with Millie.
She shook her head.

“You’ve been loyal only to each other all these years?”

Suddenly, Dina saw herself on national television with commentators focusing on a sordid love relationship between herself and David, all reports of his company’s reputation pushed aside. She had to stop this. Now.

She sat forward on her chair. “Excuse me, Ms. Daniels, but I resent your implications. There is not, and never has been, any love connection between myself and my employer. For over four decades we have enjoyed a relationship based on hard work, respect, and friendship. I will not have you implying anything more to gain ratings. I will not have Mr. Stancowsky come back to anything hinting of the unsavory.”

Ms. Daniels’s eyes had widened. But she recovered quickly. “What do you think about his ex-fiancée coming forward, saying that she faked her death to get away from him? Since you worked for him back in 1958, did you know Millie?”

Were you jealous of Millie even then?

“Yes, I knew her.”

Ms. Daniels leaned closer. “So you were there when she supposedly died?”

Dina didn’t want to get into all this. “Yes, but—”

“Did you have any inclination that she
hadn’t
died? Were there any clues? Did you ever suspect?”

“I… I think these are questions you need to ask Mr. Stancowsky when he gets back.”

“If he comes back. You do realize there is a good chance he may not come back. Especially considering that he traveled back to 1958 to save Millie’s life.”

Dina managed to swallow. “Of course I realize that.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Dina wanted to get back to the office. She’d had enough celebrity. “If Mr. Stancowsky decides to stay in his Alternity, then I will mourn his absence, but I will find joy in knowing that he obviously has found new happiness in the past.”

Now leave me alone.

Ms. Daniels nodded. “I’d say he’s lucky to call you a friend.” She looked at the camera. “Lynn Daniels, Breaking News, in Bangor.”

Atlanta

The intercom in Yardley Pruitt’s office buzzed. “There’s a reporter on line one, Mr. Pruitt. Would you like—?”

“No reporters! No calls!”

The line went dead. He turned his chair toward the window that looked out over downtown Atlanta. If only he’d stuck with the “No comment” answer. Why had he felt the need to cash in on David Stancowsky’s name? He was the father of a Time Lottery winner; why hadn’t that been enough?

Because you’re an egotistical, arrogant, manipulative
—

Yes, yes, he was all that and more. He wasn’t blind. He was an intelligent man who recognized his weaknesses.

No.

Weaknesses was not the correct term. Because having an ego and being arrogant
did
have their place, especially in the business world. They
could
be a strength—as could the art of manipulation.

But not this time. He’d blown it. And not out of ego or arrogance. He honestly hadn’t remembered the David incident correctly. Now, reminded, he seemed to remember the threat of a lawsuit on Mariner’s part and his lawyer telling him, “You have to pay this, Yardley. They’re legitimate change orders that you approved.”