Leave Me Love(34)

I backed up, my heart pounding, fear coursing through my veins. "I'm sorry. I'm leaving. I'm just trying to help."

"You've helped enough," he screamed. "Your whole family has helped quite enough!"

I didn't know what he meant by that, but didn't think this was the time to ask. Instead, I drove away as fast as I could, still shaking from the confrontation, and wiped my face with my sleeve.

Just as I pulled onto the freeway my cellphone rang. "Catelyn, it's Mrs. Beaumont. I need to speak with you. Can you meet me for coffee?"

We met thirty minutes later at a coffee house near Harvard, a place Bridgette and I liked to meet when I had the money.

I secured us a table outside, under the sun, which had come out today and made me feel like spring was coming soon.

When she sat down her eyes scanned the place like she might get caught doing something illegal.

We ordered coffees and, when they arrived, sipped our drinks for a few minutes before I spoke. "Mrs. Beaumont, I didn't hurt Bridgette. I swear."

She patted my hand. "I know you didn't, dear. That's why I'm here. My husband is an angry man and can let past hurts blind him."

"What did he mean when he said he'd had enough with my whole family?"

"It's nothing," she said, but I could tell she was lying. "What did you want to ask me about?"

I pulled out the photo of Alice and Mr. Beaumont and laid it between us.

She sucked in her breath and picked up the picture. "She was a beautiful woman." She laid it down again and looked at me. "You look so much like her."

"What kind of relationship did your husband have with my mother?" I asked, wondering if she would answer the question honestly or not.

She surprised me.

"Alice used to work with us on legal disputes from time to time. She consulted with us and helped our company out of a few binds. We had some legal problems with the Davenports’ business and Alice was supposed to help us, to be on our side. Instead, she threw her lot in with the Davenports, and we lost a lot of money and clients. Henry's never forgiven her. Unfortunately, his hatred for your mother extended to you. He was upset with Bridgette for being your friend, but she told him he either needed to be nice to you or lose her. Henry loves Bridgette more than anything, so he agreed to her terms."

I felt like I'd been hit in the stomach. Everything they'd done to help me, all the kindness they'd shown me. It was all because of Bridgette's threats. They'd never cared about me at all, this family I'd considered my own.

Mrs. Beaumont held my hand. "That's not how I feel. To me you are part of our family and are always welcome. I never wanted you to know about this, but with Bridgette…” her voice caught, "…missing, things have changed. I'm sorry."

Across the street, something caught my eye. Jon stood in an alley talking on the phone. He looked angry, and I could almost hear what he was saying, he was talking so loud.

Mrs. Beaumont followed my eyes and frowned as Jon punched the brick wall after hanging up.

She shook her head. "That poor boy, he's always had a temper."

I looked at her, unsure if I should speak, but knowing I would. "Did you know he was dating Bridgette?"

Her mouth dropped open. "No."

"They started seeing each other right before she disappeared."





Chapter Twenty Seven


Game On





WE DIDN'T BOTHER calling first, but drove straight to the police department. Mrs. Beaumont followed me in her Cadillac, likely still shocked that Bridgette had a boyfriend she didn't know about. A Davenport, no less.

Detective Gray didn't make us wait long, probably because of the grieving mother angle, and we shuffled to his office and closed the door, his face grim as he sat behind his desk. "What can I do for you ladies?" His jaw worked his nicotine gum as he spoke, making his words sound muddled.

Mrs. Beaumont wiped a tear under her eye. "Did you know Bridgette was dating Jon Davenport? Secretly?"

She said the last word like it was a scandal, despite the fact that they'd had the Davenports over many times for their fancy parties. It must have galled her husband to have them in his house, but societal pressures being what they were, it would have caused too much tongue-wagging to not invite them.

"I didn't know that, no." He looked at me like I had a murder weapon hidden in my purse.

"I didn't know either," I said. "Jon told us recently."

"Us?" he asked.

"Me and Ash." I told him about Bridgette signing my name for the car and how Jon was with her.

Mrs. Beaumont sniffed. "He could have written things in her journal. That's possible."

Gray wanted to roll his eyes; I could see it in the way his face twitched. "It's unlikely he became a handwriting expert at Harvard. Writing like Bridgette would have been beyond his skill set."