Anabel Unraveled (14 page)

“Look, you don’t need to tell me all of this,” I cut her off. “I know it all. I’ve been over it in my head again and again. And that was before I even knew she was pregnant. I didn’t sleep at all last night because I spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering what’s going to happen in four months when Anabel has that baby.”

“Yes, little Emma Claire,” my sister mused. “I do like that name.”

“I hate it, but she’s made it clear I don’t have a say,” I told her. “I believe it’s a nod to Jane Austen. Emma is her favorite.” I had a flashback to the island, of us escaping, and Anabel clutching a copy of that book.

Now my sister focused on me. “Oh, I see,” she frowned. “This complicates things. It’s not just an act. You really do care about her.”

“I give myself away so easily?”

“Jared, you’ve dated all sorts of women, and I’ve never heard you mention a book that they liked. In fact, I sincerely doubt any of them ever read a book.”

“Well that’s just it with her,” I said. “Anabel loves books. She had an incredible library at the island—” I broke off. What had happened to Anabel’s books? I wondered if they were still there. She probably missed them more than she missed anything else.

“She had an incredible library,” Meghan prompted.

“Right. Sorry. That’s where we first became friends. The books were her constant companions, her escapes, her security blankets,” I continued. “I think it was the one thing that she and Jonathan agreed on, reading. She loved everything Jane Austen. She also had every single book that Kurt Vonnegut ever wrote, and her biggest guilty pleasure was James Patterson.”

“Wow,” said Meghan. “Alright, I give her credit for being well-read. Jared, I just want you to understand something.”

“And what is that?” This lecture was getting repetitive.

“That you have experienced a whole bunch of things that your Anabel hasn’t. You’ve traveled, you’ve dated other people, you were in a fraternity—you went to college!” Meghan finished with a flourish. “I just want you to understand that you may not be her number one priority.”

“How could I be?” I asked. “Not only did I treat her horribly, and play games with her, I forced myself on her, Meghan. I’m not proud of that.”

She pursed her lips. “I wasn’t going to bring that up, but since you did, I think it’s fair game. Why did you do that, Jared? I mean, what possessed you to—”

“I was drunk,” I confided. “Drunker than I’ve ever been. The worst part? I was drunk under the table by a man twenty years older than me, and to get back at him, I went and raped his daughter.”

She looked horrified. “Is that why you did it?”

“More or less. It comes to me in bits and pieces. I would like to think that wasn’t my motivation, but it’s the best I can come up with.”

“Well, I hope you avoid her,” declared Meghan, sipping her latte. “I can only imagine what is going to be said about you next.”

“I’m supposed to see her tomorrow.” I avoided making eye contact. “She summoned me. She’s started telling me what to do.”

Meghan sighed. “Okay. I’m coming with you. You need someone who is in your corner.” The subject was clearly not open for debate.

“I think she’ll like you.”

“I don’t care.”

Chapter 16—Anabel

I woke up Sunday around 11 a.m., bleary eyed from finishing The Historian at two that morning. Why no one had looked in on me before now bothered me. Then I checked myself. I didn’t like having everyone in my face; why would that bother me? Still, something felt weird. In my underwear, I studied my closet for a moment. Then, yanking a dress over my head, I contemplated brushing my teeth but that thought made my stomach reel. Settling for a vigorous mouth washing, I pulled my hair into a clip and then sidled out of my bedroom. There wasn’t anyone except the usual Secret Service detail in the hall.

“Hello?” I called, walking down the steps. “Sam? Alexis?” No one in the living area, dining area, or kitchen. I supposed they must’ve stepped out; but no note? Then it hit me: they were probably at church. I was not allowed to go to church with them. After all, I was an embarrassment.

“Oh well,” I told myself, and began rummaging for food. I grabbed an apple and washed it carefully. As I took a bite out of my apple, it hit me: I was alone.

It was nice.

My life had been five straight months of constant attention, and I had not been used to it. Having a security guard around me at all times—even one who didn’t have any interest in making small talk—made me edgy. Before Jared came to Caereon, I had spent most of my time with myself, and it was nice to not be putting on a show for someone, pretending to be happy, pretending to be calm, and pretending to be sane. I spent so much time pretending that I was often unclear as to which emotions of mine were real.

I wandered through the downstairs rooms, marveling at the quiet. Not that Sam and Alexis were loud, but normally one was calling to me, yelling at the other, or screaming into a BlackBerry. I had developed a particular fascination with Sam’s BlackBerry and wanted my own. My brother, however, insisted that we wait.

There were so many things I wanted to do. I wanted to learn how to drive (Caereon had had a couple all-terrain vehicles, neither of which I was allowed to go near); I wanted to travel around DC and do all of the touristy things that there were to do, like see the monuments and visit the Smithsonian; but overall, I wanted to meet people.

Not that anyone here had been particularly friendly.

When the Caereon Murder Case (that’s what the press was calling it) broke, my face was all over the news, often juxtaposed with images of my late parents. For someone who barely looked in the mirror, it was surreal to see my visage on the television and in various newspapers. Request after request for an interview came to me, and all were turned down. Sam was anxious that I not say anything that would get us in trouble, so I hid from the spotlight. I could not turn on the television or the radio without hearing “the half-sister of President Sallinger” on every news station. I had heard numerous comments and read all sorts of articles commenting on my physique, my hair, my face, and my clothing. My sassy comments to my brother had made headlines; even my attire had been scrutinized. It had not occurred to me that I would be vilified for wearing a “trench coat from the Gap” every day. I made a mental note to confer with Alexis about my wardrobe. I dropped onto the divan, tucking one leg under myself as I took another bite from the apple.

Jared would be here soon, and we needed to come up with a plan of attack for tomorrow. We would be discussing some extremely sensitive, uncomfortable areas for us both, and I knew that no matter what, it would be unpleasant. It would also be all over the newspapers the following day.

At least, I thought to myself, my father wouldn’t have to see it. I was stunned to realize a tear was sliding down my face. I wiped my eyes and steeled myself. If nothing else, Jonathan would want me to be brave.

Suddenly the phone was ringing. I glanced around, and it hit me then that I hadn’t seen anyone since I came down the stairs. Great. I supposed I would have to answer. Really, I thought, where were my bodyguards? I lifted it off of its receiver and stammered, “Blair House, Anabel speaking.”

There was a silence, and then, “It’s Jared.”

“Hi,” I managed.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but my sister is with me and she wants to meet you.” At least he sounded as pained as I did.

“The hippie or the redhead?” I asked.

“The redhead.” He sounded like he was fighting a chuckle.

“Oh right. The hippie’s in England. Well, bring her over!” I proclaimed as merrily as I could. “I’m alone, and I’m not sure when Sam and Alexis are returning, so please, come over.”

As I hung up the phone, I wondered if I should brush my teeth. I decided I would try and eat a piece of toast instead.

By the time Jared and Meghan arrived, I had managed to down not only the toast, but some fruit salad that I had discovered in the fridge. While Jared smiled at me, Meghan did not seem impressed with the crumbs I was wiping off of my skirt or my bare feet. As I led the way into the sitting area I offered drinks and was declined. Meghan took a chair, and Jared took the one next to her, so I wound up sitting on the divan by myself.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I offered.

“Mm,” she said, sizing me up. I knew I should have brushed my teeth, but the thought still evoked nausea. “So where are the Sallingers?”

“I don’t know. They abandoned me,” I grinned at her. “Too much trouble, I guess.”

Her unsmiling face indicated to me that she felt I was too much trouble for her brother. “Indeed,” Meghan said. “Listen, Anabel, I am sure that all of this has been overwhelming for you, but I want you to consider what you’re doing to my brother.”

“What I’m doing to your brother?” I repeated.

“Meghan, I don’t—” began Jared, but she cut him off.

“Jared isn’t exactly Mr. Popularity here, and you’re contributing to the bad press,” she went on. “I’m not trying to insinuate that your motive is to make his life miserable, but you’re doing a fantastic job of doing just that.”

I bristled, and turned to Jared. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that I made your life unbearable.”

“I didn’t say that,” he protested.

“Well she did, and she’s your envoy, isn’t she?”

“Anabel,” he began.

“Save it,” I looked back to Meghan. “So what is it you want from me?”

“Well,” she said, crossing her legs, “maybe if you came out of hiding from the media and gave an interview and told the world that Jared isn’t Satan, they might back off. He can’t find a job, you know.”

“I didn’t.” I looked at the floor.

“Your testimony on Monday may make things worse for him,” she continued. “He’s already told me some disturbing information about what happened, and it will not reflect well on his character.”

“What did you tell her?” I frowned at him.

“I told her what happened,” he muttered, looking away.

“I don’t even know what happened; would you care to enlighten me?” I snapped.

“This is what I’m talking about,” sighed Meghan. She looked at me, not unkindly. “You two can’t fight like this. I just think it would be a good idea if you got your stories straight.”

“Fine,” I said, still annoyed at Jared. “I just thought you had come to visit, not give me the Spanish Inquisition.” Above his protests, I began.

The next day after we kissed was awkward. Seeing Jared that morning as we waited for my dad and Charlie brought a flush of pleasure to my cheeks. I had taken extra care with my appearance that day. I had gotten up early and showered, and had let my curls air dry so they fell sweetly around my face, and down my back. I had left the white dress behind and had settled for a pink one with cap sleeves that, while it was a little low cut, fell past my knees. Enough so that Jonathan would probably not comment on my attire. Jared had gotten there before any of us, and as I approached him, I felt positively radiant.

“Good morning,” he greeted me, not failing to notice my neckline.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked him with a smile. Now that I think about it, I must admit I’m appalled at the way I was throwing myself at him.

“No, I was awake for a while,” he lamented.

“I had that problem as well,” I admitted, lowering my voice. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You don’t want to do this,” he told me, his hands in his pockets, looking every which way but at me.

“Not this again,” I groaned. “Jared, I’m not about to spend today denying that I feel something for you. I’m also not going to allow you to pretend that you don’t feel something for me. I realize that there are millions of complications and at some point you’re going to leave me here, but I want to enjoy our time together. Look, I need you to be my friend. I don’t have any. If you don’t want to kiss me anymore, fine, but at least talk to me,” I implored.

He was beginning to relent. I could sense it. “Okay,” he gave in. “Okay.”

Just then we were interrupted by Charlie. “Good morning. Annie, you look nice today.”

Before I could reply, Jonathan showed up. “You should change, Anabel.”

“I brought a sweater,” I defended, and pulled it around my shoulders.

“I think that’s good enough,” stated Charlie.

My father looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped himself. “Alright, Sorensen,” he said. “Let me take you on the grand tour.”

“So how exactly does the vault work?” Jared asked, falling in step next to my father.

“I can explain,” I piped up from in front of them, sending my father an anxious glance. He nodded, so I continued as we walked down the stairs. At least if I was talking I wouldn’t stand there like an idiot, grinning at Jared. “Well as I’m sure you know, the majority of our nation’s gold bullion used to be stored in Fort Knox. The American people are under the impression that it still is stored there.”

“How much gold is it?” asked Jared, coming to walk by me as we turned a corner.

“About forty-seven-hundred tons,” I told him. “Fort Knox has been around since 1936. It is also used to house precious items, such as the Magna Carta and other key documents. It’s designed much like our storage facility: it has a fortress and then below,” I commented as I pushed the elevator button, “is the vault. Fort Knox’s vault, like ours, is lined with granite and you have to get through several different rooms to get through to where the gold is.”

“We’re going to take a detour to the prison,” announced my father.

“Very well.” I caught Jared’s eye. “Just below the surface level of Caereon is our prison level. It’s divided into solitary confinement and then there are the prisoners who have open cells who get to leer at me when I walk by. Hence the sweater.” Jonathan made a grunting noise, and I failed to look up. I was going to get a talking to, I knew it. We got off and walked to the main entrance. The guard let us in, and we continued our tour. “We only housed a few prisoners in the beginning, but as I’m sure you know, when several of the major high-security places were closed, we were one of the few places where taking in extra prisoners was a possibility. My father was not happy about it, I can assure you.” Jonathan nodded his assent. “Through this door,” I indicated the one on the left, “is solitary. I’m not allowed to go in there.”