The Secret Sister (32 page)

“But you're thinking Gretchen was an evil person,” she said. “She wasn't. She wasn't evil at all.”

“She took you away from us,” Keith retorted. “And she blamed me and blackmailed Dad. Even if she thought of that money as child support, a way to insure that you'd have what you needed, what kind of woman does that?”

Maisey knew his remarks weren't helping, but he was struggling with his own emotions.

Fortunately, Annabelle seemed to understand, because the expression on her face grew more sad than angry. “Someone who thought she was saving me. She cried whenever I talked about my brother or my sister. But she said my birth mother was a cruel, cold woman who shouldn't have had children.”

“In Gretchen's mind, Josephine deserved what she got,” Maisey said, filling in the obvious.

“And you were the only one of the three of us worth saving?” Keith asked.

Annabelle must've recognized the bitterness in his voice. “Maybe I was the only one she felt she
could
save.”

“She couldn't have pretended that we'd all fallen into the ocean and expected to get away with it,” Maisey agreed.

The bell jingled over the door as another patron walked in. “I—I don't want to...continue this discussion here,” Annabelle said, lowering her voice. “Can you come by my house in an hour or so? I'll call my husband, see if he can take over the store.”

She was married. Maisey wondered if she also had children. “Of course,” she said, and put Annabelle's address in her phone.

* * *

Rafe waited in the drawing room of Coldiron House. He'd been there before, but he'd never felt quite this nervous. He was afraid he might be meddling in something he shouldn't. Maisey wouldn't appreciate his getting involved. And yet...paying a visit to Josephine Lazarow was the only way he could possibly remedy the situation. He didn't want to be even
part
of the reason Maisey and her mother weren't getting along.

There was a noise at the door. He'd been too wound up to take the seat Pippa had offered him, so he was standing at the window when Josephine walked in. As usual, she was dressed as if she was a senator or the first lady or someone equally important. The look she gave him was as imperious as ever, but he wasn't about to let her overstep her bounds where
he
was concerned.

“Raphael.” She acknowledged him with a slight dip of her head. “What can I do for you? I hope you haven't come to revise the timeline you gave me on Smuggler's Cove. I've been assuming you're making great progress there, despite your other...distractions.”

Was she referring to Laney or Maisey—or both? It was hard not to take offense, but he stifled the desire to defend himself and carefully modulated his voice. “Smuggler's Cove is going according to plan.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I'd hate to have to break that contract.”

He clenched his jaw when she smiled at him, once again battling his natural inclination to react to her nastiness with a sharp word or two. “I'll make sure you have no reason to even try.”

“Wonderful. So then...why are you here? I can't imagine we have any other business. Your bungalow closed escrow two months ago. There's nothing I can do about selling you that, although I regret it now.”

She was determined to keep jabbing at him, but he decided that his best defense was not to reveal how much it bothered him. “Why do you regret it?” he asked calmly. “The only thing that's changed is Maisey.”

“My daughter? Isn't that enough? Sadly, Maisey's return was something I could not have foreseen.”

“Have I ever done anything to make you dislike me, Mrs. Lazarow?” he asked. “Or are you acting on prejudice alone? A man of my background couldn't possibly be a good match for a Coldiron?”

She arched her eyebrows. “Don't tell me you think I should be more receptive. Do you even have a degree?”

“No,” he admitted. “I had no money for college, and I was so busy acting out at the time, I'm not sure I could've settled down and studied if I'd been given a grant.”

“Big of you to admit it at least.”

The door opened and Pippa poked her head in. “Would you like me to bring some tea?”

“No. I won't be here that long,” Rafe said before Josephine could respond.

Pippa looked between them and, when Josephine didn't correct him, backed out and closed the door.

“We were talking about the lost opportunities of my youth, I believe,” he said, matching her more formal diction. “I think it's important for you to note that I'm not the same man I was then.”

“Which means you can reclaim all those years? Somehow make up for the education you never sought?”

“I've found a vocation that I'm good at, and I make a decent amount. There are worse ways to live.” He didn't see Keith being any happier, for instance.

“You could never run the Coldiron empire, never take over for me.”

“I don't aspire to that. You have two children, who will probably do just fine. So maybe that's where the misunderstanding comes in. I'm not after anything of yours. To prove I care about your daughter and not what she stands to inherit, I'll gladly sign a prenup, if my relationship with Maisey progresses that far. But I want something from you in return.”

She smoothed her expensive slacks. “Of course you do. And what is that? Another bungalow? A hefty payment up front?”

He shook his head. “No. I would appreciate you staying out of my relationship with Maisey. No matter what you think of me, I know I can give her the love she needs and deserves. If I didn't care about her, it wouldn't disturb me so much that being with me is tearing her away from her family.”

“And if I simply tell you to leave my house this instant?”

He shrugged. “I will have done all I can. But I would say this. Please don't make her choose. In case you're under any delusions—I'm not asking because I think
I'm
the one who'd lose out.”

Her mouth opened and closed with no sound, as if she didn't know what to say.

“I will support you and respect you as her mother,” he went on. “All I ask is that you give me a little respect in return.”

“That's
all
you ask,” she repeated. She couldn't seem to believe he'd come here just to make peace.

“That's it.”

She clasped her hands in her lap. “You know you're not the only...bone of contention between Maisey and me.”

“I do. That's part of the reason I don't want to cause her any more pain. She's been through enough.”

She glared at him for several seconds. Then she said, “I'll have my attorney draw up a prenup. Might as well have you sign it while you're agreeable.”

“I'll sign it anytime you want,” he said with a slight bow.

31

A
nnabelle had three children—Zac, who was five, Chloe, who was eight, and Brooklyn, who was fourteen. Maisey loved her nieces and nephew almost instantly. And the same held true for Annabelle's husband, Landon, a big bear of a man who, together with his father, owned the swamp tour business she'd visited earlier. He'd been out on the water with a group of tourists, and the employee manning his store hadn't recognized “Roxanne's” maiden name when Maisey asked for Paul Phillips. That was one of the things they discussed—and laughed about—once Landon had closed the video shop and come home. They also talked about how life in Lafitte compared to Fairham, how Annabelle had purchased the video shop from her brother, Paul, when he moved to Colorado to be closer to his wife's family, and Maisey's books. Annabelle was astonished that she'd never heard of them. But Maisey wasn't surprised. It wasn't as if she'd attained the status of a Dr. Seuss.

It wasn't until the kids went to bed that they tackled some of the harder subjects they were anxious to discuss.

“How much of that day do you remember?” Maisey asked Annabelle, referring to when she was supposedly pushed off that cliff. It was now just the two of them, and Landon and Keith. They were all sitting around the kitchen table with cups of coffee in Roxanne's comfortable, middle-class house.

“Quite a bit,” she replied. “I remember Gretchen taking us all to the library, where a man called Ranger came and took me to some shack.”

“That would be Ranger Phillips,” Maisey said. “He's still alive, and he still lives in that shack.”

“You're kidding,” she said.

“I've been there.” Maisey took the last sip of her coffee. “Do
you
remember that trip to the library, Keith?”

“Not at all,” he replied, “but I don't remember very much from before I turned five and started school.”

“And we went to the library all the time,” Annabelle said. “He wouldn't have any reason to recall it. Nothing different happened to him. I probably only remember because it was the day that changed everything.”

“Was Ranger nice to you?”

“He wasn't
mean
. I could tell he didn't really want me with him, though. They had a heated discussion—one filled with harsh whispering. Then he took me to get some ice cream and said Gretchen would pick me up later.” She stared off into space. “It took her so long I was sure she'd forgotten me. I got so homesick. I cried several times, which made Ranger uncomfortable. He kept offering me candy to shut me up. I think junk food was about all I ate that day. When Gretchen finally came, she told me she had terrible news.”

“That's when she said we'd all been killed?” Keith guessed.

“Yes. You can imagine what that was like. I felt completely lost and begged to go home with her, but she wouldn't hear of it. She said she couldn't let anyone see me because then I'd go to an orphanage, which was a terrible, lonely place. She promised if I was a good girl she'd come back for me, and that I could live with her.”

“I can't believe Gretchen would do that,” Landon said.

“Neither can I,” his wife agreed. “I never once questioned what she'd told me.”

“You wouldn't,” Maisey said. “You were only six. And she'd been your caregiver. Of course you'd trust her.”

“Did you get the impression that she lived with any regret?” Landon asked. “Do you think she was ever tempted to tell you the truth?”

Annabelle shook her head. “Looking back, I think she was convinced she was doing the right thing, that she was protecting me, making sure I was no longer in the hands of a cruel mother who would only abuse me.”

“So you knew Gretchen, too?” Maisey asked, speaking to Landon.

He gave her a charismatic smile. “I did. Rocki and I were high school sweethearts, so we've been together for over twenty years.”

“That's a long time,” Maisey said.

“Wait a sec.” Keith scooted his chair a few inches from the table. “How did Gretchen get you off the island?” he asked Annabelle. “Without someone seeing you, I mean?”

“I hid in the back of Ranger's truck, with all the boxes and furniture, when he moved her. I stayed down like they told me to because I was so frightened I'd be sent to an orphanage. She kept telling me how terrible my life would be without a family. I was willing to do almost anything so that she wouldn't abandon me.”

“She certainly pulled it off,” Maisey said, marveling at the ease with which Gretchen had kidnapped a child.

“You were telling us that you two were high school sweethearts.” Keith directed Landon back to that subject.

“We were. Went to the same college, too—Louisiana State University—and stayed together that whole time. We were married as soon as we graduated.”

Maisey had been wondering how Annabelle could accept a new name and a new life without ever coming back, when she was older, to find what remained of her old one—if only to rediscover the island and locate any distant relatives. But the more they talked, the more Maisey began to understand. Annabelle was too happy, too fulfilled in Lafitte, where Landon's relatives had embraced her, to look back for long, especially since she thought her immediate family was gone and everyone on Fairham Island would be a stranger to her.

“So now that you know the truth, what name are you going to use?” Maisey asked. “I mean...Annabelle's your legal name.”

“But Roxanne's the only name Landon's ever known me by,” she said. “The kids, too, of course, and all my friends and family here in Lafitte. I can't see going back to Annabelle.”

“Makes sense to stick with Roxanne,” Maisey agreed. Maybe Roxanne hadn't grown up with the same wealth and privilege they'd known, but she'd received far more love. That was apparent. So was the fact that Gretchen had believed she was doing the right thing by “stealing” Annabelle—had believed she was rescuing a child.

Annabelle took another sip of coffee before addressing Keith. “You said that Gretchen blackmailed our father, and you have proof.”

“Maisey does.”

As soon as they'd explained about the letters, Annabelle asked for the dates they were written and it soon became clear that those dates coincided with the worst of Sarah's illness, which made Gretchen's actions understandable if not forgivable.

They decided it must've been Ranger who'd mailed the letters, so the postmark wouldn't give away Gretchen's location. He was probably the “friend” who'd collected the money for her, too.

They talked for several more hours about Gretchen and Sarah and Paul—and Ranger, and whether or not he should be brought up on charges. Maisey felt he should, but Annabelle said she preferred to let it go. “He's an old man now,” she said. “What good would it do to put him in prison? For the majority of my life, I've been happy. Otherwise, maybe I'd feel differently.”

“So...here's the
big
question,” Maisey said. It was nearly three in the morning by this time, and they were getting tired despite the adrenaline that'd kept them going so far.

“There are a lot of big questions,” Annabelle—Roxanne—joked. “But I bet I can guess what you're going to ask. Whether I want to see...Mom.”

“Yes.” Roxanne's response would form the basis of what Maisey told everyone, even Rafe. She hadn't called him since leaving Fairham, but he'd attempted to reach her. She knew he had to be worrying about her; she'd check in tomorrow sometime, since it was too late now.

Roxanne tucked the wisps of hair that'd fallen around her face behind her ears. “I think I do. I remember her as...austere, but not all my memories are bad. She certainly smelled good.”

They laughed at that. Then they talked about how beautiful Josephine was—how that hadn't changed—before growing serious again. “A visit to Fairham could be traumatic,” Maisey said. “Are you sure you're up for it?”

She nodded. “I'd like to see how she reacts to my husband and my children. But confronting her will definitely be weird.”

“It can't be too bad if I'm there with you,” her husband said, and she covered his hand with hers as he squeezed her shoulder.

“When do you think you'll come?” Keith had been more animated tonight than Maisey had seen him in a long time, and that felt good. Now Maisey would have help in loving him and trying to support him. Maybe it would be enough to make a difference.

“We're running two businesses, and the kids have school, so it's not easy for us to get away,” Roxanne said. “But going to Fairham for Thanksgiving would be nice.”

Maisey covered a yawn. She wouldn't be able to keep her eyes open much longer. “That sounds perfect. If Mom lets me through the door, I'll come back, too.”

Keith nudged her with his knee. “Come back? You're not really leaving Fairham, are you?”

“What else can I do? She kicked me out of the bungalow and fired me from the flower shop. I have no job and no place to live.” She got up and put her cup in the sink. “Fairham was only a temporary stop, anyway—just someplace where I could lick my wounds and spend time with my brother. As it turned out, I only made matters worse for you. So I should move on, get back to my career.”

“
I
made matters worse for me, Maisey,” he said. “Not you.”

“Where will you move?” Roxanne asked. “Back to NYC, even though Jack's there?”

“The city's big enough for both of us. I love Manhattan. I just need to create more of a life for myself. I let him define who I was before. I won't make the mistake of letting another man do that.”

“Come on,” Keith argued. “No one loves Smuggler's Cove more than you do. You belong there.”

She rinsed her cup. “If I were independently wealthy, things might be different.”

“You said you have enough to last for a while.”

“It wouldn't be wise to use up the rest of my savings.”

“What about Rafe?” he asked.

Roxanne twisted around to face her. “Keith was telling me about the new man in your life.”

“When?” Maisey asked.

“When you went to the bathroom after I kissed the kids good-night.”

Maisey scowled at Keith. “Big mouth.”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Admit it. You like him.”

“I
do
like him.”

Keith brought his own cup over. “No, I mean you
really
like him. Don't let Mom split you guys up. Fight back—by staying.”

She rinsed his cup, too, since she was already at the sink. “I can't stay on the off chance that Rafe and I can make a go of it. I have to start rebuilding my life somewhere that's a little more conducive to a fresh start.”

“You could always come here,” Roxanne said.

Maisey smiled. “I'll consider that.”

“But if you move...maybe what might've happened between you and Rafe never will,” Keith said.

She dried her hands and gave him a hug. “And maybe it's not meant to. It's hard for me to say what's best. I was so sure, once upon a time. Now? I realize that life is uncertain.”

“You'll get it figured out,” Roxanne said. “And we'll be there to support you in whatever you do.”

Maisey smiled and hugged her older sister, too. Finding Roxanne was like suddenly being given a best friend.

* * *

Keith was sleeping on the couch, but Chloe had been asked to bunk in with Brooklyn so Maisey could have a room to herself. She appreciated the privacy. Although she was exhausted and emotionally drained after all the highs and lows of the past two weeks, she felt restless as she sat on the bed, staring at Rafe's last text.

Haven't heard from you today. Everything okay?

Judging by when that had appeared, he'd sent it right before bed. Now that she was alone and wasn't so overcome by shock and disbelief at finding her sister
alive
, she wanted to call him back. She felt she'd sleep better if she could only hear his voice—which was as crazy as everything else going on in her life right now. They hadn't been seeing each other all that long.

You
can't
be in love with him
, she told herself. But it sure seemed like it. That was part of the reason she was convinced she needed to leave Fairham. The island was even less hospitable for her than she'd expected. She'd finally realized that she'd never be able to have a relationship with Josephine, at least nothing resembling the kind she'd always wanted. And if what was going on between her and Rafe turned out to be nothing more than a brief affair? She'd be making herself too vulnerable if she stayed.

So where was she going to go? And what was she going to do? Ever since Ellie died, it was as though she'd been tumbling down a mountain, slamming into one rock after the next. But if her life hadn't taken that
exact
path, if she and Jack hadn't divorced and she hadn't returned to Fairham Island, Rafe never would've brought her those pictures. He would've taken them to her mother, as he'd originally planned, and Josephine would've destroyed them. Then no one would've learned that Annabelle still existed.

“Compensating blessings,” she muttered as she thought of the fun they'd had together this evening.

A soft tap sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

Keith poked his head inside the room. “It's me. You got a minute?”

“Of course. Everything okay? It's been a wild night.”

“No joke. But I'm happy. Hopeful. And more determined than ever to get myself turned around. I mean it, Maisey. If you two can lead successful lives, so can I. I let Mom get into my head and undermine my confidence. She doesn't
intend
to do that. She just has a way of...making me feel like she's the only one in the world who's capable of anything.”