unrehearsed interaction suggested that Clarice knew nothing about Ben’s death. That Jack had planted another lie at the heart of their relationship was the price of saving him.
Clarice took Jack’s hand, shedding the pretense of years. Worriedly, she asked, “Do you really have to tell them?”
“He does,” Adam broke in flatly. “What the police have on Teddy could convict him of a murder he didn’t commit.”
Clarice turned to him. “How can you know all that?”
“Just trust me that I do.” He paused, then said, “Like you, Teddy lied to the police about your phone call. That was your idea, wasn’t it?”
Slowly, Clarice nodded.
“I assume you were trying to protect him,” Adam continued, “and not just yourself and Jack. But I know that Teddy was protecting you.” Turning to Jack, he finished, “I’m sure that Avi Gold would represent you, and work with Teddy’s lawyer. That’ll help everyone keep their lines straight.”
Staring at him, Clarice said, “This is a lot to absorb, Adam.” Seeing his expression, she added softly, “For all of us, I suppose.”
“Then brace yourself, Mother. Because there’s more.” He sat back, speaking in the same clipped tone. “The will contest has become more complex than you know. Thanks to me, you won’t get caught trying to pass off the postnup as misplaced self-actualization. On the other hand, I’m now aware of the truth-that you got plenty of ‘consideration’ for signing it, from continuing to live here to concealing the messy facts surrounding my birth. And I suspect that Carla Pacelli knows that, too.”
Clarice looked stricken. “Ben told her?”
“I’m pretty sure he did. If so, I can’t lie about it. Right now you’ve got a decent shot at overturning Ben’s will. But between Carla and me, you could wind up with nothing. So here’s what you’re going to do.
“First, your lawyer will offer Carla a settlement of three million dollars, on which you’re also paying the estate taxes-”
“No,” Clarice protested. “I refuse to treat her as an equal.”
“You’ve got no choice,” Adam said coldly. “So feel grateful to get by with that. Carla’s got a real chance of walking off with everything; at a minimum, she’ll get almost two million for her son. Who, by the way, is Teddy’s brother, Jack’s nephew, and my cousin. All of us need to see to his well-being. This family has inflicted enough misery on its own.”
He paused a moment, allowing Clarice time to absorb this. “Next, Jenny gets her million, also tax free. That leaves you with roughly seven million dollars, of which you should give Teddy one million for himself.” Adam looked from his mother to Jack. “The two of you will have more than enough to live here. Though if I were you, I’d sell this place. The karma leaves a lot to be desired.”
Clarice seemed to blanch. “How do you know that Carla will agree?”
“Because I’m developing a sense of her. In fact, despite my best efforts, I may have a better grasp of Carla Pacelli than of either one of you. That’ll give me food for thought on the flight back to Afghanistan.” Briefly, he paused, watching the stunned look in his parents’ eyes. “For now,” he told them, “I plan to shower, drink several cups of coffee, and then call Avi Gold. After that Jack should meet with Avi, and I’m going to see Carla Pacelli. If she consents to this, as I think she will, we’re settling Ben’s estate. Are all of us agreed?”
Clarice looked at Jack, who nodded. Facing Adam, his mother retrieved some of her composure, accenting the sadness in her eyes. “I still look at you, Adam, and see him. The same iron will, the same belief that you can bend the world to your ends.”
Despite himself, Adam discovered, comparisons to Benjamin Blaine still pierced him. “Better ends, I hope- especially yours and Jack’s. But I’d appreciate it if both of you disappeared for the next few hours. I really do need to be alone.”
At ten o’clock, Adam went to see Carla Pacelli.
She was waiting for him on the deck, a light breeze rippling her hair. Smiling a little, she said, “Thanks for calling. It gave me time to dress.”
Then I regret that, Adam might have said in another life. But he felt way too tired, and even more confused. “I had to see you.”
It came out sounding wrong, not as he intended. Carla regarded him gravely. “You really do look awful.”
“And feel worse,” he admitted. “How long have you known that I wasn’t Ben’s son?”
Briefly, she looked down, then met his eyes with new directness. “For months now.”
Adam shook his head in disbelief. “And yet you had the grace not to tell me. Even though we were enemies.”
“It wasn’t my place,” she answered in a level tone. “And you were never quite my enemy. It was a little more complex between us, I thought.”
This was true, Adam realized. “Still, you could have warned me off any time you wanted to. All you needed was to tell the truth.”
“And tamper with your life?” Carla asked with quiet compassion. “It was clear that you loved your family, despite all you’d gone through. I couldn’t know how revealing the truth might change that. Once I realized that you knew nothing, it seemed best to keep Ben’s secret. At least for as long as I could.
“But there’s something else I can say now. Whatever her reasons, the affair between Clarice and his brother caused Ben terrible anguish. That’s why I never considered his marriage sacred ground.” She paused again. “At least that’s my excuse.”
“No help for it now,” Adam said wearily. “I came here to resolve the future.” He paused, searching for the proper words. “There needs to be an end to all this sadness. If I can guarantee you three million dollars, would you take it? That would spare you a will contest, and help both of you quite a lot.”
A moment’s surprise appeared in Carla’s eyes, and then she gazed down at the deck with veiled lids. “More than ‘a lot,’” she finally answered. “My lawyer won’t like this, I’m sure. But if your mother can accept that, so will I. I don’t have the heart for any more of this.” She gave him an ironic smile. “As if I’m being so beneficent. I grew up without a dime, made millions as an actress, and blew it all because of my own failings. Now I can give my son the security I lost. That’s what Clarice must have thought before you were born.”
The comparison-and Carla’s honesty-gave Adam pause. “Maybe so,” he replied. “But she was also in love with someone else.”
“Then accepting this money is easier for me, isn’t it?” Carla looked into his eyes. “You persuaded her, I know. But why?”
Adam managed a shrug. “It’s simple, really. As I recalculate my genealogy, you’re carrying my cousin.”
For another moment, Carla gazed at him, then patted her stomach. “Actually, I thought I felt him move this morning. A mother’s imagination, probably. But at least I’m not sick anymore.”
Adam shoved his hands in his pockets, quiet for a time. “I’m not sure how to say this without sounding stupid. But you’re a far better person than I took you for.”
Another smile surfaced in her eyes. “I suppose I could return your backhanded compliment. But you’re exactly who I took you for, though you did your damnedest to conceal that.” Carla paused, then said in a reticent tone, “You’re leaving soon, I know. But once you’re back, you can come to see us if you’d like.”
Adam searched her face, trying to read what he saw there. “Perhaps I will,” he told her. “After all, every boy can use a man who cares for him. No matter who.”
“Then we’ll look forward to it.” She hesitated, then added, “Be safe, Adam. Despite everything, Ben worried for you. Now I do, too.”
Adam fell silent, unsure of what else he wished to say. Then he felt the weight of what he could never tell her: that his father had killed the father of her child. “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Take care, Carla.”
Turning from the doubt he saw in her eyes, he left without looking back, still followed by the shadow of Benjamin Blaine.
Alone, Adam walked in the Menemsha hills, too exhausted to absorb what he had heard, too shattered by the truth to seek refuge in his mother’s home. Again and again, he was beset by images of the last few days and hours, questioning his choices, yet he was unable to imagine what else he could have done. Then he grasped the moment that, more than any other, would trouble his conscience until he acted.
Before he could rest, there was one more person he had to see.
