“I’ve always been amused by the ways of fate. Well, I’m not amused now. There are big problems now.”
“Now, Ammie, do you think it was fate that brought all those nice old people here to buy the World’s Greatest Ice Cream so you could then kill them and steal all their money?”
Amabel turned and frowned at him. “I don’t know, and neither do you, Amory. Now, I don’t care what happens to Quinlan and the others, but I don’t want Sally hurt.”
“He doesn’t agree with you, Aunt Amabel,” Sally said. “He hates me. You know he’s not my father. He has no latent tender feelings for me. As for my mother, did you know that he forced Noelle to stay with him?”
“Why, of course, Sally.”
Sally gaped at her. She couldn’t help it. On the other hand, why was she so surprised? Her world had flipped and turned more times in the past seven months than she could cope with. It seemed she’d never known who she really was or why things were the way they were. And she’d hated her mother for her weakness. Oh, God, she’d felt contempt for her, wanted to shake her herself for letting her husband knock her around.
“Who’s my father?”
“Now she wants to know,” Amory St. John said, as he strolled into the small bedroom, his hands in his pants pockets.
“Who?”
“Well, dear,” Amabel said, “actually your father was my husband. And yes, he was my husband before he met Noelle and the two of them fell in love—”
“In lust, you mean, Ammie.”
“That too. Anyway, Noelle was always rather stupid, and Carl wasn’t all that much of this earth himself. Knowing both of them as well as I did, I had difficulty figuring out who got whom into bed. But they must have managed it. She got pregnant. Fortunately she was seeing Amory at the time, and things got worked out to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“Not to my mother’s.”
“Oh, yes, she was thrilled that she wouldn’t have to abort you, Sally. She would have, of course, if it meant no husband as a cover.
“I brought my Carl out here to The Cove so he could paint and spend the rest of his meaningless little life doing landscape oils that sell at airport shows for twenty dollars, and that includes their vulgar gold-painted frames. Carl never roamed again. In fact, he begged my forgiveness, said he’d do anything if only I wouldn’t leave him. I let him do quite a bit before he died twenty years ago.”
“You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Oh, no. Amory did that, but Carl was already very ill with lung cancer. He never would stop smoking unfiltered Camels. Yes, it was a blessing for Carl that his brakes failed, and he died so quickly. Thank you, Amory.”
“You’re welcome, Ammie.”
“So how long have you been lovers?”
Amabel laughed softly, turning to look at the man who was standing in the doorway. “A very long time,” she said.
“So you don’t mind him beating the shit out of you, Amabel?”
“No, Amory, don’t!” Amabel walked quickly to him and put her hand on his arm. She said over her shoulder, “Listen to me, Sally. Don’t talk like that. There’s no reason to make your father angry—”
“He’s not my father.”
“Nevertheless, mind your tongue. Of course he doesn’t hit me. Just Noelle.”
“He hit me too, Amabel.”
“You deserved it,” Amory said.
Sally looked from one to the other. In the dim light she couldn’t see either of them clearly. Amory took Amabel’s hand, pulled her closer to his side. The shadows seemed to deepen around them, moving into them, drawing them into one. Sally shivered.
“I thought you loved me, Amabel.”
“I do, baby, indeed I do. You’re my husband’s child and my niece. And I agreed with Amory that you were better off in that nice sanitarium. You weren’t doing well. He told me how erratic you’d become, how you were cheating on your husband, how you’d gotten in with the wrong people and were taking drugs.
“He said that Doctor Beadermeyer would help you. I met Doctor Beadermeyer. An excellent doctor, who said you were doing nicely but that you needed complete rest and constant supervision by professionals.”
“That was all a lie. Even if you don’t want to believe he’s such a monster, just think about it. You’ve read the papers, seen the news. Everyone is looking for him. Everyone knows that many of the patients in Doctor Beadermeyer’s sanitarium were prisoners, just like I was.”