All That Lies Broken (Ashmore's Folly Book 2) (76 page)

Silence. She wanted to spring across the table and rip that
gotcha!
look off his face.

“You have a very upscale lifestyle here. Stables, private plane, nice car, expensive school for your daughter.” Mark seemed to be ticking items off a checklist. “Very profitable practice – you took home two hundred thou last year. Healthy line of credit. Nice offices. Good standing in the business community. Numerous referrals. You do a lot of business with churches.” He smiled. “Tricky thing, dealing with churches. They like their people pure as the driven snow. Wonder how they’d like their architect screwing his sister-in-law in front of their daughters?”

Laura was done sitting there, taking his insults. “Wonder how the stockholders would like you wanting to do the same thing, Mark? Or your church board? They kicked someone out a few years ago for immoral conduct. Wonder how they’d like you trying to get your brother’s widow into bed? Remember Leviticus? Wonder what they’d think if I told them about the hole in my diaphragm?”

She ignored Lucy’s dropped jaw, Richard’s alarmed look. Mark flushed.

“So it
was
you. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I was that
stupid?
” Laura clasped her hands to keep from driving her fist right into his nose. “What a lowdown, sneaky thing to do. That was just
vile
.”

No one said a word.

“And another thing. Don’t you ever,
ever
spy on my family again! Or me! You used the GPS to find me, didn’t you? That’s the last time you’ll ever do that. The second you’re out of here, I’m changing the code, and Meg’s too.”

She saw Mark struggling to regain control.

She added, “You get out of here. And don’t you interfere between me and my daughter again.”

“Don’t do this, Laura.” He managed to sound sulky and threatening at the same time.

“Or what?” She turned his words back on him. “Or you’ll do what? Try to take Meg away from me? Good luck! What makes you think a judge would give her to you anyway?” She stopped for breath. “You’re not the only relative she has, you know. First thing Monday, I’m changing my will. If anything happens to me,” she turned her head to Lucy, “will you and Tom take her?”

Lucy never hesitated. “In a heartbeat.”

She had only a second for heartfelt relief before Mark said, “We’ll see about that.”

“Shut up!” She stood up, trying to subdue her rage in physical movement. “Get out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. And don’t quote to me piously about how you’re acting on your brother’s behalf. If you think for one single second he’d let you bully me, think again. We had our problems, but he loved me. He wanted the best for me. And he never,
ever
called me a whore.”

He jumped up. “Laura!” Finally, on his face, the dawning sense of horror that he had gone too far. “Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that – listen,” he shoved the manila envelope into her hand. “Read this! You’ve got to read it! Do what you want, but for God’s sake, at least read it! You need to know the truth about this man.”

She stared him right in the eye. “I know all the truth I need.”

“You think he cares about you? He just wants to use you. Cam wouldn’t want that for you. That’s why he entrusted you to me. Please, I am asking you to consider. Read that report. You’ll see.”

“You want me to read it?” Her fingers trembled as she opened the envelope and drew out three pages. “Fine. I’ll read it. And then you are getting out of here.”

“Excuse me.” Richard’s tone cut through the fury shimmering between them. “Mind if I take a look first?”

“Why?” A sneer. “Need to refresh your memory, Ashmore? Concerned she’ll finally wake up and see the light? Afraid you’ve fucked Cat Courtney for the last time?”

Laura lost it. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up,
shut up!

Richard rose and took the report from her. “Sit down, both of you,” he said flatly. “I told you to watch your language, St. Bride. Laura, you simmer down. I will not tolerate scenes in my home.”

Laura’s mouth opened and then closed. In a few sharp words, he had broken the back of her temper. She’d spiraled close to hysteria, and he’d stopped her.

She ought to be grateful. She wasn’t.

She dropped back into her seat. Mark hesitated, then followed her example.

No one said a word; they all watched Richard skim down one page and turn to the next, his expression giving nothing away. Eventually, he put the pages down and addressed Mark directly.

“By and large, your information is accurate,” he said. “Your conclusions are not.”

“So say you.” Mark seemed disappointed at Richard’s calm. What had he expected? That Richard would fling the report down and surrender?
She’s all yours, friend, take her and godspeed?

“So say I. One thing.” Richard fixed a hard look on him. “Three ladies are named in this. This doesn’t concern them. I do not want them dragged into this little drama.”

In that second, Laura reached her limit. She held out her hand to Richard for the report.

The table waited in silence while her eyes scanned down the pages. Most of the financial information scarcely registered, but two figures leapt out at her:
Julia Tremaine Ashmore Trust (est.): $20 million
.
Ashmore Park yearly expenses (est.): $1 million.

Halfway down the second page,
Jennifer Melton
. Two names she didn’t recognize.

The third page held a list of clients, mostly names she had found online during the spring. She finished the report and sat for a moment, thinking.

“Well, Laura?” Mark prompted. “See? You’re a beautiful woman, but, believe me, that’s not the attraction here. He needs that money.” He looked over at Richard. “Except you can’t marry her, can you, Ashmore? You’ve already got a wife. At least I’m willing to marry her.”

“Why? Why do you want to marry a whore?” Her throat hurt from screaming. “At least, your brother
wanted
to marry me. He wasn’t just willing to make the supreme sacrifice.”

“Yeah, my brother,” said Mark bitterly. “What a piece of work he was. He rutted like a bull, and you’ll screw any good-looking bozo with a smooth line. What a pair. You were made for each other.”

Richard held up a warning hand.

“I guess we were.” She stared across at Mark. “No, he wasn’t always faithful, that’s no secret. But not once, ever, did he talk to me the way you have. Not once did he ever call me names or put rough hands on me.” She looked down, exhausted. “Get out.”

“Laura, please—”

Slowly, deliberately, she tore the report into pieces.

“Goodbye, Mark.”

She crossed the entrance hall into the library. She closed the doors between the library and the music room and sank down on the piano bench.

After a minute, she roused herself. She had to play. She had to focus all her raging energy on the music. She flexed her fingers and then launched into
Ride of the Valkyries,
unconcerned that she shook the rafters.

Apocalypse, indeed.

Her fingers flew across the keys, stabbing, attacking, in her need to drive away the sound of Mark’s voice. Impossible to believe that the man who had flung such coarseness at her was the same man who had comforted her at the memorial service, or the man who, in years past, had always spoken kindly to her, asked her how her music was going, complimented her on her lasagna.

He’d always been something of a prig. She’d listened to him moralize at a family dinner while his father rolled his eyes and his siblings told him to get a life. Emma’s second husband had once referred to Mark as “the eunuch.” Cam had speculated, with the contemptuous pity of a man secure in his sexuality, that Mark was still a virgin. Even Kate, his mother, had confided that she wasn’t sure Mark liked women.

Well, no one could doubt it now. She’d recognized the sexual jealousy raging behind his eyes, the furious impotence against the man who’d effortlessly dominated the room and, he thought, her. Feverish imaginings – her skin crawled. Let Cat Courtney star in men’s fantasies; Laura St. Bride wanted one man, and one man only, to dream about her.

It was her fault. She’d brought this on herself. She’d stupidly told him about last weekend, fueling a rage that must have lived behind the kindness for years.

She played for a full five minutes before she heard the doors open behind her. She managed not to flinch when Lucy touched her shoulder. “Laurie.”

She kept on playing.

“Laurie, I need to talk to you. Right now.”

She was sick to death of people talking to her. She’d had a lifetime of being told what to do, what to think, what to say, culminating now in being told who and what she was. No one was ever going to dictate to her again, as long as she lived.

“Listen to me. You need to listen.”

Lucy’s eyes were gentle and concerned. And this was her sister, after all, who had helped her cut the ground out from under Mark. Her hands dropped into her lap.

“Good.” Lucy nodded. “I know you need time to digest all this, but this is important. You need to neutralize that man.”

Laura said wearily, “Hasn’t he left?”

“He’s gone. Richard threw him out.” Lucy put a hand on her arm. “He’s reeling right now, but in an hour he’s going to get back on that plane, and he’s going to get over the shock of you going at him, and he’s going to feel humiliated and defeated. Then he’s going to want to turn that into action. That sort always does. So you need to take action of your own.”

Her own reaction was setting in. She was starting to feel ill from the rage that had boiled through her. “What do I do?”

“Here.” Lucy thrust a paper in front of her. “I made some notes. Look, I’m not your attorney, understand? I’m just your sister who knows about the law. I’m not giving you legal advice.”

“The law?” Alarm washed through her. “You think he’ll try something?”

“Count on it. You need to tell Jay about this right away. He’s got to know about this. But, Laurie – under no circumstances must Meg go back to Texas.”

The heat of fury was dying under the chill of fear. Lucy was dead serious. She asked, “Why?”

“Jurisdiction.” Lucy settled back. “Family law – custody – is a state matter. You can’t let her go back where Mark can get a friendly judge to grant a TRO preventing you taking her out of state. A judge can do that, you know, order you not to remove her, and you’d be breaking the law if you do.”

Her blood did freeze now.

“I know you were talking about buying a house, but you have to do more than talk. You have to establish residency here, fast.”

Her lips felt numb. “To shift jurisdiction?”

“Right.” Lucy looked approvingly at her. “You change Meg’s residency by changing your own. That immediately shifts the fight up here. I can help you on Monday – or Jay’s office can. They’d probably prefer to do it. If Mark goes after you, you need the fight on friendly ground, where the judges know Tom and me. We’re an established presence in the community. And Jay knows everyone who matters, and they know him. You need all the advantages you can get.”

“Oh, my God.” How could this be happening? She raked her fingers through her hair in distraction. “Can he make a judge believe I’m an unfit mother?”

Unfit mother
. The words echoed bizarrely around the room.

Lucy dismissed that with a shake of the head. “In this day and age, having sex with a man doesn’t make you an unfit mother. You’re single, and he practically is. But you don’t want to have to use that as a defense. You want to make it hard for Mark to even make a case.” They heard the front door opening and closing, Richard moving in the entrance hall and then coming towards them through the library. She turned around. “Is he gone?”

“Gone. Thanks for staying, Luce.” He came around the piano.

“Any time,” said Lucy. “Laurie and I were discussing what she needs to do next.”

Laura buried her face in her hands. “I think,” her voice muffled, “Meg and I should leave.”

She expected Lucy to agree, but her sister surprised her. “No. This is the best place for you. It’s isolated, secure – if he sends another PI out, it will be much tougher to spy on you.”

Richard said quietly, “Stay. You’re safe here.”


But
,” Lucy looked at him, “that staircase into the master suite?” She paused to make her point. “Don’t use it.”

The blood rose in Laura’s face. Richard said only, “Understood.”

“Good. One more thing.” Lucy took a breath. “I know how unpopular this will be, but – if Julie can reschedule her camp, she needs to stay here until Laura and Meg go back to London.”

Oh, no. If Julie had forgotten her hostility in the need for solidarity against Mark, this would negate all us-against-the-enemy progress. Laura said, “I don’t want Julie to miss out on camp. She’s really looking forward to it.”

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