It was long after midnight before Maryse finished explaining her cell phone recording to the police and returned to the hotel. She struggled to keep her emotions under control as she talked to Mildred and Sabine, assuring them that the police were handling everything with the recording, that she was fine, Hank was fine, and she was suffering no lingering effects from almost dying—again. She begged off any further conversation, claiming exhaustion. She managed to make it to her room and into the shower before the tears started to fall.
Tears for her marriage that never really was and a promising relationship that was never going to be. What was it about her that she only attracted men with ulterior motives and no staying ability?
By the time she’d finished her shower and her crying jag, the exhaustion she had claimed earlier was no longer merely an excuse. But as she stepped out of the bathroom, a very contrite Helena Henry was perched on the edge of her bed. Maryse held in a sigh, knowing that it was high time she and Helena had that heart to heart Helena had kept promising her. Maryse just didn’t have a clue where she was supposed to get the energy to do it.
“How did it go with the police?” Helena asked.
Maryse pulled some clothes out of the chest of drawers and began to dress. “If you’re so interested, why didn’t you stick around? Afraid I might figure out a way to strangle you?”
Helena stared at the floor, a guilty expression on her face. “I know what I did was wrong, but I swear, I never imagined any of this happening. I had my reasons, and at the time I thought they were good ones.”
Maryse turned her hands palm up. “Then I think it’s high time I hear them. Everything, Helena. No more secrets.”
Helena raised her gaze back to Maryse and nodded. “You deserve the truth. You deserve a lot more than that, actually, but before I tell you everything, you have to know that I never, ever intended to put you in any danger. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Okay. Then go ahead. Let me have it.”
Helena took a deep breath and gazed around the room, as if deciding where to begin. “I guess I’ll start with your mother,” she said finally.
Maryse stood straight up and stared at Helena. Her mother had been the last thing in the world she’d expected Helena to talk about. “My mother?”
Helena smiled. “Your mother was the kindest, gentlest person I’ve ever met. She volunteered at the orphanage, teaching the older kids math and reading stories and playing games with the younger ones. They all loved her very much, and she was so great with them.”
Maryse sank onto the edge of the bed next to Helena. “I never knew she volunteered there. No one ever told me.”
Helena gave her a sad smile. “She quit before you were born. In fact, she quit right after finding out she was pregnant with you. She’d seen so much sadness, so much heartache in those children that she wanted to make sure her own never suffered a moment’s pain, never shed a tear thinking her parents didn’t love her.”
Maryse nodded, the lump in her throat making speech impossible.
“The doctors had told her she wouldn’t be able to carry a child to term,” Helena continued, “so you were a real miracle for her.”
Maryse felt the tears well up again. “I wish I could remember,” she said, the sadness of her loss sweeping over her.
“I do, too,” Helena said, her voice barely a whisper. “When your mom was first diagnosed, she thought she’d beat it. But she got worse and worse and knew things weren’t going to get any better. Before she passed, your mother asked me to make sure you were taken care of. She knew your dad was a good man, but she was afraid he might not be able to see to all the things you would need.”
Maryse stared at her. “My mother asked you to look after me? Did she know you at all?”
Helena laughed. “I know it’s hard to believe, especially from where you sit, but your mother…well, your mother knew the real me. So the first year or so, I did my best to see that you had the woman’s input you needed, although your dad did nothing to make it easy on me. We never much got along, even though I always respected him, and I know for a fact that he loved you more than anything.”
“And after the first year?”
Helena waved one hand in dismissal. “Oh well, then your dad started seeing Mildred, and I could tell straight off how much she loved you. Almost as if you were her own. So I bowed out, knowing you were in great hands.”
Maryse stared at Helena, certain the woman was leaving something out of her story—again. “And you had nothing to do with me after that?”
“Well, not directly,” Helena hedged. She waited for a couple of seconds, obviously hoping Maryse was going to go off on another subject, but finally realized that wasn’t going to happen. “Fine. I left you to your dad and Mildred until it was time for college. Then I saw to it that you got the education your mother would have wanted you to have.”
Maryse’s eyes widened in surprise. “You were the source of my scholarships? Good God, Helena, that must have cost you a fortune.”
Helena shrugged. “I had more than enough money, and besides, you were a damned good investment.”
Maryse took a deep breath and tried to absorb everything Helena had said, finding it hard to wrap her mind around her mother and Helena Henry plotting over her care and nurturing. “So what the hell happened with Hank? I’m pretty sure my mom wouldn’t have approved of that arrangement at all. In fact, she’s probably turned over a time or two since then.”
Helena looked embarrassed. “I didn’t find out about you and Hank until it was too late. I tried to get him to have the marriage annulled, but he was hell bent on keeping you.” She shook her head. “I knew my son would never do right by you, so I decided to do both of us a favor and send him packing.”
“He told me you sent him to rehab.”
“Yeah. Well, the people you paid for Hank’s debts weren’t exactly the only people looking for him. I knew if he stuck around that not only would he be in danger until I could sort the whole thing out, but you would be too.”
Maryse considered this for a moment. “I didn’t know.”
“I know that, and I got it all handled in a couple of months’ time. I guess I figured rehab was the last place that sort would go looking for a guy like Hank. And I was hoping he’d straighten out…grow up and become a good man and a good husband. I was just fooling myself. Hank is just like his father.”
Maryse shook her head, remembering her conversation with Hank. “He’s not just like him, Helena. There’s some good in Hank. It’s just buried under that bullshit front. He didn’t know what Harold did, and he’s upset about it.”
Helena looked at her, a hopeful expression on her face, and in that instant, Maryse realized that regardless of his transgressions, Helena Henry loved her son.
“You really think so?” Helena asked.
Maryse nodded. “And if I ever get my phone back from the police, you can hear it yourself.”
“Well, that’s something,” Helena said. “I guess I didn’t give him enough credit, then or now. Maybe you two could have made it work. Now, I don’t know. All I knew then was that I’d promised my good friend that I’d make sure her daughter was taken care of, and I didn’t see that happening as long as Hank was around.”
“I get that, Helena, in a demented, completely screwed up sort of way. But why in the world didn’t you arrange for us to divorce? Why keep me hanging all these years?”
Helena sighed. “Because of the land. After Hank left, I had that survey done and found out about the oil, and I always suspected Harold was digging through my safe. That missing letter proves it. I knew if I left the land to Hank that Mudbug would become one big refinery and the town would cease to exist. This was my home. I couldn’t let that happen, so I used you, and for that I am sorry.”
“And the bills? Why make me pay Hank’s debt, then turn around and pay off my debt?”
Helena looked down at the floor. “I was worried that you might not be a good choice either, and if that was the case, then I might as well produce Hank and let you two divorce. I didn’t really know what kind of adult you’d turned out to be, and marrying Hank wasn’t exactly points in your favor.”
“So you were testing my character? Is that your ridiculous defense?”
Helena shrugged. “I guess so, and putting it that way does kinda point out how stupid and cruel it was. I figured that out when you made the payments without fail or complaint. That’s why I started using the money to pay off your debt. I was too proud to just tell you to stop.”
Maryse stared at Helena and shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
She looked at Maryse, her eyes pleading for her to understand. “This whole mess is about that damned land. I thought I was saving the town and giving you a great asset at the same time. I swear, Maryse, if I’d had any indication from you that you had started a new relationship or that being married to Hank was preventing you from doing something you wanted, I would have taken care of it…regardless of what happened with the land.”
“But I just disappeared to my cabin in the marsh and stayed quiet all these years.”
Helena nodded. “I didn’t figure still being married to Hank made a difference to the way you were living. It never occurred to me that still be married might keep you from trying to have a life again. I’ve stolen two years from you, Maryse, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it now. You have no idea how sorry I am. For everything.”
Maryse rose from the bed. “I believe you’re sorry, Helena, but what you did was wrong.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgive you, but I’m not happy with you. I hope you can understand that.”
Helena nodded and rose from the bed. “I’m not happy with me, either.” She gave Maryse a sad smile and walked through the bedroom wall into the hallway.
Maryse lay on the bed and hugged one of the bed pillows. She had enough to think about for the next ten years.
It was well after two A.M. when Maryse heard Helena’s voice right beside her bed. Jasper took off like a shot, and Maryse opened one eye and looked at the agitated ghost, then the alarm clock. “It’s the middle of the night, Helena. Go away.”
“Ssssshhhhh.” Helena put a finger to her lips. “There’s someone outside your window. You’ve got to get out of here.” Maryse bolted upright and stared at the window, trying to make out anything in the inky darkness. A second later, she heard the faint sound of scraping outside, which couldn’t possibly be good since her room was on the second floor. She rolled out of bed and onto the floor, then crawled over to the door and eased it open. The squeak of the hinges seemed to blast through the night air, and as Maryse slipped into the hall, she heard glass breaking behind her.
“Run!” Helena shouted, and Maryse stumbled to her feet, dashed down the hall, and then took the stairs two at a time. When she hit the landing on the first floor, she panicked for a moment, not having a single idea which way to go. The only options were out of the hotel or toward Mildred’s room, essentially putting the other woman in danger. The pounding of footsteps on the stairs prompted her into action, and she pushed open the back door to the hotel and ran outside.
The shriek of the hotel alarm made her heart stop beating for a moment as she realized she’d just alerted the killer to her exact location. But as she ran down the alley, she realized that it might work to her advantage if the cops responded to the alarm before the killer found her. She felt the sting of glass under her bare feet but didn’t care as she dashed around the corner of the hotel, praying that the gate was open. She came to a stop in front of the ten-foot iron gate, securely fastened by a padlock and chain. Shit! Frantic, she scanned the fence for a way over and, finding none, switched to looking for a place to hide but also came up with nothing.
Police sirens screamed in the distance, and she felt her hopes rise. She only had to hold out for another minute or so. Just sixty more seconds and help should arrive. Surely the killer would bail when the police arrived. But as she heard the hotel door slam, she knew she didn’t have even twenty seconds before she would be looking at the killer face to face. She backed up a couple of steps, then ran toward the fence and leaped as high as possible, clutching desperately at the top rail.
Adjusting her grip, she pulled herself up the fence, her arms straining with the effort, and for a moment, she didn’t think she was going to make it. Then a bullet whizzed by her head and struck the building to the side of her and a burst of adrenaline hit her, propelling her over the fence and onto the other side. She landed, slamming into the concrete with such force she was afraid she’d broken something in the process. As she jumped to her feet, a second bullet grazed her shoulder and hit the Dumpster in front of her. Realizing there was no possible way to exit the alley without leaving herself wide open, Maryse dove behind the Dumpster and curled into a ball, hoping like hell the police arrived before the killer got through the gate.
She heard the blast of a bullet hitting metal, then the rattling of a chain and felt her heart drop. She shut her eyes and prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before. Nothing but a miracle was going to save her now. Seconds later she heard his breathing clear as day and knew he was standing right in front of her. She clenched her eyes harder, her life racing before her in Technicolor, and wondered what she had done so wrong in life for it to end this way.