“And just who the hell is this Zack Ward anyway?” he nearly bellowed.
Were this a film I would yell, “Cut!” and we would break for lunch.
This would give me time to compose a response that would not cause Thomas Appleton’s heart to pause for an unhealthy period of time. This not being the case, I had no choice but to keep the camera grinding and hope for the best. “I was meaning to tell you about Zack,” I said. “I believe he’s a reporter for a trashy tabloid.”
Appleton’s cheeks glowed to a point where I feared spontaneous combustion would turn his head into a burning bush. He opened his mouth but gasps, not words, emerged. “Can I get you some water, Tom?”
Closing his eyes he answered slowly and sincerely, “I don’t suppose you have any cyanide on you.”
“Afraid not, Tom. But let’s be realistic. As we speak, Sabrina is talking those two into returning to New York and she will never reveal your name to them or anyone else,” I repeated for good measure. And that should settle it.”
“That should settle it?” He mimicked. “Archy, that’s what Chamberlain said when he got back from Munich.”
He had a point there, too.
As if thinking aloud, Appleton reasoned, “If Sabrina told Gillian the true story of her birth because Sabrina thought it would work to her advantage, what would stop her from revealing my name to the girl for the same reason?”
Point number three, and he took the set. “It’s a fear you may have to live with, Tom,” I said.
“I do not and I will not.” He spoke like a man used to getting his way regardless of the consequences. “Where is Sabrina, Archy?”
“They’re all bedded down at The Breakers,” I told him.
“I’m going to call and meet with her.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“No, but I have to impress upon her that I will go to any length to protect myself and my family from any scandal.”
There was that menacing phrase again and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one stinking iota.
Nine
Given the amount of time and energy I was putting into a case that was closed and a family affair that was none of my business, “The Man That Got Away’ could now be retitled “The Man Who Wouldn’t Go Away.” I didn’t owe Sabrina Wright a thing but couldn’t resist one last conversation with the lady to warn her of the imminent call from her former, if brief, lover. If nothing else, it would be interesting to see what her reaction would be to hearing from him after all these years — and to my being a third party to their little secret.
Did I also want to impress upon her my unique ability to ferret out the most obscure Palm Beach mysteries without really trying? Sure. I might even turn up in a Sabrina Wright novel as a PI named Danny Desire.
I made the call from my office, asking the desk at The Breakers for Mr.
Robert Silvester. It worked. I was immediately connected to his suite and doubly rewarded with the now familiar sound of Sabrina’s deep-throated, “Hello.”
“Archy McNally here,” I announced.
“Mr. McNally, what a coincidence. We were just talking about you,”
Sabrina said.
“I take it you are not alone.”
“No. Robert is with me. Why do you ask?”
“I want to pass on a bit of information that is intended for your ears only.”
There was a pause during which I thought I could hear a sharp intake of breath, or was there static on the line? “Is your daughter with you?”
Now there was no mistaking the anxiety in her voice when she answered,
“No. She and Zack are out hunting.”
Was it open season on runaway fathers? And just how did one go about tracking down a man you had never seen and didn’t even know existed until a few weeks ago? “I hope they’re not knocking on the doors of the local gentry. The people in these parts don’t take kindly to nosey strangers. They’re apt to shoot first and ask questions later.”
“I believe they went to the local library to scan the newspapers dating back to nine months before Gillian’s birthday. Clever, don’t you think?”
I thought it was rather dumb and from the mocking inflection in Sabrina’s delivery, so did she. The young people’s endeavor did prove just how hopeless poor Gillian’s chances were of finding her father after a trail gone cold for thirty years. Did she expect to turn up an item listing all the couples who had engaged in sexual congress in southern Florida nine months before her birth? “I take it you haven’t been able to talk her into abandoning the search and going home.”
“You take it right, Mr. McNally, but I’ve made them an offer they might find hard to turn down,” she boasted.
Did this family never tire of bartering their lives away? “May I know what it is?”
“Certainly,” she answered with an enthusiasm that was far too coy to be genuine. “I will give Zack an exclusive interview for his rag if he and Gillian will give up this asinine charade. Believe me, Mr.
McNally, it’s against all my principles to be misquoted in a lousy tabloid, but if it gets Gillian off the scent, I’ll do it.”
Whoever would have thunk it? Sabrina, sacrificing her principles for the sake of a one-night stand. Noblesse oblige or noblesse desperate?
This was bad news for Tom Appleton.
“What will you disclose in the interview?” I asked.
“As little as possible,” she said. I’ve had practice in saying nothing to the press in several thousand words. If he dares mention Gillian’s father I will deny everything.”
Right now the odds seemed to be with Tom but Sabrina clearly wanted to see the last of this charade, as she termed it, and the lady was at the end of her tether, which was never very long.
I gave her my professional but, uncalled-for opinion on her offer.
“Judging from what Gillian told me, I doubt she will allow Zack to accept, tempting as it may be.”
“Of course,” Sabrina exclaimed like a doting mother, ‘you met the children. What do you think of them?”
“Like I said, I think they’re two very determined people. You would do well, Ms Wright, to go back to new York and leave them to their groping in the dark. Sooner or later they’ll come home, sadder but wiser.”
“And more angry than ever,” she cried. “And estranged from me forever, I dare say. No, that would never do. We must resolve this thing here and now, Mr. McNally, and go back home together, as a family. A happy family. In short, Gillian must acquiesce to my better judgment and resign herself to playing out the hand she was dealt, as I was forced to do.”
This woman was in possession of a pair of cojones that would put the Dallas Cowboys to shame. Like Frank Sinatra, Sabrina Wright did it her way, and pity the daughter who refused to acquiesce. And now here comes Archy, the bearer of news that might help or hinder her case Appleton’s case? Gillian’s case? or none of the above? Not having a stake in the matter I rolled the dice, knowing they were loaded.
“I said I had something to tell you, Ms Wright.”
“So you did. And just what is it that’s meant for my ears alone? My bill?”
“That will come in the mail,” I promised. “You are going to get a phone call, Ms Wright. I pass this on as I believe I owe it to you as a former client. He is going to call. Very soon, I expect.”
“He? I don’t follow, Mr. McNally. Who is he?”
“He is Gillian’s father.”
If early I thought I had detected a sharp intake of breath when I mentioned the reason I was calling, I now heard the most horrific sound known to our species silence. I waited a good minute before I asked, Are you there, Ms Wright?”
