Twice in a lifetime, p.27
Twice in a Lifetime, page 27
Behind her, Clara heard a floorboard creak; moments later, her mother appeared at the door. Christine had sat with them for most of the night, discussing how to deal with Eddie. She hadn’t said much, but when their spirits lagged, especially Clara’s, Christine had offered encouragement.
“Worrying never got anyone anywhere,” she had said. “Besides, Eddie Fuller has always been an odd duck, even when he was a boy. Whatever bad comes from this, however he suffers, he’ll deserve whatever he gets.”
“Did you sleep?” Clara asked her now.
Her mother nodded. “A little,” she said, but then yawned. “From the look on your face, I reckon I got more than you.”
Clara smiled weakly. “I’m just so nervous. I keep thinking about everything that could go wrong. Drake tells me not to worry, but I can’t help it.”
“That’s understandable,” Christine said.
“Imagine what could happen if Eddie finds out what we’re up to. He wouldn’t rest until all of our things were out in the street. We’d be ruined.”
“But Eddie doesn’t want that,” her mother disagreed. “All he wants is you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. His love will blind him.”
“You sound like you think this will work.”
“I do,” Christine said, putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “But even if it doesn’t, you and I have been through worse. Both of us lost our husbands. We raised our children largely on our own. We worked and scrimped to put food on the table. Even if we lose the house, we’ll land on our feet.”
Listening to her mother inspired Clara. She remembered the day, standing on this very porch, when she’d been told of Joe’s death. Overwhelmed with grief, she had been unable to imagine a future without her husband, but she’d still managed to build one. Even if Eddie’s vindictiveness put her on the street, she would still have Tommy and her mother. She would also have Drake. Together, they would build a new future, no matter what it took.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said. “You’ve made me feel better.”
“I’m glad,” Christine answered. “Now get on down to the bank. It’s time for you to get that rotten son of a gun off your back for good.”
“Are you planning on marrying my mother?”
Drake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Ever since he and Tommy had left the house, they had been busy. First, they’d gone to the filling station—if Eddie made a run for it, Drake wanted to make certain he had plenty of gas. After that, they went to the hotel and packed up the rest of his and Amos’s things; a quick search of his dead friend’s belongings revealed no clues to explain his thievery. Down in the lobby, Edna Gilbert offered her condolences for Amos but was thankful that the men who’d threatened her had met the same fate; when Drake told her that he and Eddie would be using her parlor that afternoon, her good humor vanished. After that, he’d telephoned his bank in Illinois, wanting to know exactly how much money he had left; it wasn’t much, but it would get them by for a while if their gambit failed. Through it all, Tommy had been quiet, as if something was weighing on his mind. Now Drake knew what it had been.
“Someday,” he answered, “if she’ll have me.” He paused. “Is this why you wanted to come along? To ask me that?”
“Partly,” Tommy admitted.
“Do you have a problem with your mother and I being together?”
Clara’s son shook his head. “No, I don’t. I see how she looks at you and how even with all this craziness going on, you can still make her smile.”
“I love her,” Drake explained, knowing with all his heart it was true. “When we met, I knew she was the woman I’d been looking for my whole life. But I’ve worried you wouldn’t be happy about it,” he said, remembering their first encounter and how it had ended. “I’m not trying to be your father.”
Tommy stared out his window, watching rainwater trickle down the glass. “I don’t have many memories of him,” he said. “I was so young when he died that I can’t remember much. I’m not sure what you’d be replacing.”
“I’ve spent more than twenty years trying to forget my old man.”
“You have?” Tommy asked. “Why?”
“Because we fought like cats and dogs,” Drake explained. “Nothing I did was ever good enough, so the first chance I got, I hit the road and never looked back. So even if I wanted to take your father’s place, I’m not sure I’d know how. I suppose I’d have an idea what not to do, but that wouldn’t make me much of a parent. What I’m hoping,” he said, looking at Tommy, “is that we can be friends.”
The boy was silent for a while, as if he was considering the offer, and then he slowly nodded. “I think we can do that.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Does this mean you’ll teach me how to drive really fast?”
Drake laughed loudly. “We’re going to need to get a new car first.” Noticing Tommy’s disappointment, he added, “Who knows? Maybe with some tinkering under the hood, this old truck might have a few good runs left in her.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Tommy joked; this time, they both laughed.
Turning down the street on which Clara and her family lived, Drake looked at the house through the whipping windshield wipers. If he made a mistake, if he underestimated Eddie, it could all be lost.
“Make sure that bastard gets what’s coming to him,” Tommy said, as if he had read Drake’s mind.
For him, for Clara, for all of them, he was betting on it.
Eddie walked into the Sunset Hotel with a spring in his step. As usual, Edna Gilbert stood behind the front desk. When she saw him, she opened her mouth to say something, but Eddie strode past her and into the parlor without a word. Today, he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. He had far more important matters to attend to.
Drake McCoy sat at the same table Eddie had used at their last meeting. Without waiting for an invitation, Eddie took the seat opposite.
“I must say,” he began, unbuttoning his vest, his stomach having grown a bit larger since his father’s death, “I admire you not wanting Clara to see this.”
The race car driver frowned. “Like I told you on the phone,” he said, “I have no interest in being cruel.”
“Just getting richer?” Eddie suggested.
McCoy shrugged.
“She seemed quite happy at the bank, smiling at her customers, going about her day like it was any other.”
Oddly enough, it had been Eddie who’d struggled to stay focused on his work. Sitting at his desk, pretending to sort through papers, he kept going to his door to steal glances at her, daydreaming about the future they would soon share. With McCoy headed out of town, his pockets stuffed with cash, there was nothing left to keep them apart. Once, Clara had caught him looking at her. Quickly, her gaze had darted away, her discomfort obvious, which hurt Eddie deeply; her reaction strengthened his conviction to change her mind, to make her look upon him longingly, with love in her eyes.
“Did you bring the money?” McCoy asked.
Eddie nodded. He pulled another check from the inside pocket of his coat and pushed it across the table. “Eight thousand dollars.”
McCoy picked up the check and looked at it. Eddie had expected the man to smile, pleased with the numbers. Instead, the race car driver frowned, as if something offended him. Then he ripped the check in half.
Eddie was so dumbfounded that he rose out of his chair. “What…what do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s not enough,” the man answered matter-of-factly.
“But…but this is what we agreed to! You said so just this morning!”
McCoy shook his head. “I changed my mind. Now I want twelve thousand.”
Eddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His heart raced, his blood pressure rose, and he breathed so hard his nostrils flared. “This is…this is outrageous!” he shouted in a voice that hardly sounded like his own.
“Call it whatever you want,” the driver answered, his face impassive, his voice sounding as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. “If it’s too much, then I suppose I can stick around town a while longer. Folks here are real friendly.”
Inside, Eddie raged. He hadn’t bargained on McCoy proving to be so greedy. Still, he was rich, wealthy enough to afford what the bastard was unjustly demanding. To Eddie, Clara Sinclair was worth any price. Whatever he had to spend to make her his, it was a price worth paying.
In the end, it was only money.
“All right,” Eddie grumbled reluctantly. “Twelve thousand it is.”
He sat back down, pulled out his checkbook, and started to write out the new amount. He was halfway done when McCoy interrupted him.
“I’ve got a question,” he said.
Eddie’s hand came to an abrupt halt, his pen making an unintended mark on the paper. Was McCoy going to make another demand?
“What is it?” he asked curtly.
“After you’ve paid me to go away, what will you do if Clara refuses to become your wife? What if she still rejects you?”
Eddie shook his head. This was nonsense. “She won’t.”
“But what if she does?” the driver pressed.
“Clara’s smart enough not to make such a mistake.”
McCoy chuckled. “I don’t think you know her as well as you think you do.”
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts…” Eddie said.
The racer shook his head.
“Then why do you want to know so badly?”
“I’m curious.”
Eddie licked his lips. “If Clara was foolish enough to refuse what I’m offering, then I’d take away everything that matters to her.”
“How?”
“How?” Eddie echoed, warming to his explanation. “Just how hard do you think it would be for me to go into the bank’s records and make it appear as if Clara was behind on her house payments?”
“You’ve already told me this,” the driver said. “What happens then?”
“Then I’ll own her house and Clara will be out on the street, along with her son, her mother, and everything they own.”
What Eddie left unsaid was that he hoped it wouldn’t come to that; he wanted Clara, not her house. Threatening to take it was simply a means to an end. Regardless, he’d do it if she kept rejecting him. Though it would hurt him deeply, he would ruin her life. He wasn’t a man to be trifled with.
“Isn’t that illegal?” McCoy asked.
“Of course it is,” Eddie snapped, growing annoyed at all the questions. “Truth is, Clara has never once been late on a payment, but so what? I can change that, turn it upside down, and no one will doubt me for a second.”
“Because you’re so important…”
“That’s right. Banks are important, and the men who run them are powerful,” he continued, thinking about all the times his father had failed to flaunt his authority, preaching to his son that he wasn’t above the community; what complete hogwash! “Clara can claim that she’s paid up until she’s blue in the face, but it won’t do her any good, and that’s why she’s going to do exactly as I say.”
With that, Eddie returned to filling out the check.
“You’re a real son of a bitch.”
Once again, he stopped writing. McCoy’s voice had been menacing, his words spat in accusation. Eddie looked up. The other man’s face was twisted into a scowl, as if he was itching for a fight. Shockingly, so was Eddie.
“What did you call me?” he demanded.
“You heard me,” McCoy answered. “I’ve spent an awful lot of years driving from one town to the next, most of them a lot like Sunset, and during that time, I’ve met all kinds of people. Some were rich, others poor. Some were educated, most were not. But I have never met such a spineless, manipulative bastard as you.” The driver paused, letting a smile slowly spread across his face. “As long as I live, I’m going to be glad I played a part in bringing your life crashing down around your head. Just remember this: not everything is for sale.”
Eddie stood quickly, so violently that his chair toppled over onto the floor. “What…what is this?” he shouted. “What are you talking about?”
“Turn around and find out.”
Incredulous, confused, and more than a little frightened, Eddie spun on his heel just as two people stepped into the parlor. He suddenly felt ill.
Standing before him was Clara. Next to her was Sheriff Oglesby.
Clara couldn’t believe what she’d heard. She and the sheriff had been standing outside the parlor, listening to Eddie and Drake’s conversation. Several times, she’d wanted to rush into the room, to scream her outrage at Eddie, but every time she’d managed to fight down the urge, remembering what Drake had told her; until Eddie admitted to blackmailing her, until he acknowledged that he knew what he was doing was illegal, she couldn’t show herself.
But it had been hard to hold back…
It hadn’t been much easier at the bank. All morning, she’d struggled to act as if nothing was wrong, like it was just another day. The worst part had been catching Eddie staring at her with his goofy grin; she didn’t want to imagine what disturbed fantasies were rolling around in his head.
As the clock neared noon, Eddie had left for his meeting with Drake; Clara had followed, dodging rain puddles as she hurried down back streets leading to the hotel. Sheriff Oglesby was waiting at the rear entrance; Drake had informed the lawman of their plans that morning. Edna Gilbert let them inside. Making their way to the parlor, they listened to Eddie incriminate himself.
Now, she no longer needed to keep quiet.
“How dare you?!” Clara shouted, her voice quavering with fury. She moved quickly, closing the distance between them, and slapped Eddie hard across his face; in the small room, the blow sounded as loud as a gunshot.
Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers, not from pain but from shock. “Clara, wait…I didn’t…I…” he stammered. “I never—”
Before he could lie, Clara hit him again. She reared back a third time, but the sheriff grabbed her wrist.
“Hold on,” the lawman said. “No one’s going to disagree that he had the first two coming, but that’s enough for now.”
“I don’t know what you think you heard,” Eddie argued, pressing his palm against his rapidly reddening cheek, “but I assure you that I wouldn’t—”
“Stow it, Eddie,” Sheriff Oglesby cut him off. “We’ve been standing outside the whole time. I heard every word loud and clear.”
“Then you misunderstood! I didn’t mean that—”
“Let’s you and I go down to my office and have a talk,” the lawman continued. “I’m particularly interested in one word: blackmail.”
When they had come up with their plan, the intention wasn’t to put Eddie behind bars but rather to render him impotent. Tommy had made the analogy that the banker’s threat was like a loaded gun pointed straight at their heads; they needed to remove the bullets. But if Eddie ended up falling hard, if he went to jail, lost the bank and all his wealth, his life ruined, then so be it.
Suddenly, Eddie seemed to realize all he stood to lose. His panicked eyes found Clara. “I wouldn’t have gone through with it!” he swore. “I love you! I have always loved you!”
Clara stared hard at him. She remembered all the times he had approached her at her teller window, making pathetic come-ons, ignoring how she rejected him. She thought back to their talk in his office, when he’d proposed marriage and then threatened her with losing her home if she didn’t accept.
Because of all that, she had no pity for Eddie Fuller.
“You have no idea what love is,” Clara said matter-of-factly.
Her words made Eddie begin to lose control. His body trembled. Spittle wet his lips. Veins stood out on his neck. But when his fury overflowed, it was turned not against Clara but against the man he undoubtedly blamed for stealing her away.
“This is all because of you!” Eddie roared at Drake.
Completely unhinged, the banker lunged toward his perceived rival for Clara’s love, intent on tearing the man limb from limb. Clara was so frightened she screamed. But Drake was as calm as he was behind the wheel of the Plymouth. Before Eddie could reach him, he was out of his chair. He sidestepped a weak attempt at a punch, and then drove his own fist into Eddie’s stomach so hard that it lifted the man off the ground.
“Unfff,” Eddie wheezed, the air violently driven from his lungs.
When he fell to the floor, he lay in a heap, his hands holding his midsection, rocking back and forth, heaving and retching.
The next thing Clara knew, she was in Drake’s arms, holding him tight, thankful that it was finally over.
“Come on, now,” the sheriff said as he pulled Eddie up onto unsteady feet. As the banker was led from the parlor, it sounded like he was crying.
Once they were alone, Drake asked, “Are you all right?”
Clara nodded. She was about to ask him the same when Edna Gilbert stuck her head through the doorway and said, “Looks like you got him.”
“I hope so,” Clara answered.
“Serves him right,” the hotel owner remarked with a broad grin. “Standin’ in the way of love like that. I hope when he’s locked up, they lose the key.”
Clara couldn’t have agreed more.
Outside, the rain had stopped. Blue sky poked through the disappearing clouds; as the sun shone down, its light reflected off puddles, passing cars, and the wet sidewalks. Clara and Drake looked up, feeling the warmth of the afternoon, reveling in what had happened. Luring Eddie into their trap had been risky, but somehow everything had worked out. Now they were finally free to start their life together, to let their love bloom.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Drake said.
Clara smiled. “I was just thinking about how different everything looks now that our troubles are behind us.”
