The Winner, Page 22

  lessee and he had rented the vehicle two weeks ago. Tom Jones! That was real clever, Riggs thought. The address he had for the man would be as phony as the name, he was certain. A total dead-end; he had expected nothing less.

  Then he stared down at the woman’s name he had written on a piece of paper. Catherine Savage. Born in Charlottesville, Virginia. Age: thirty. Social Security number had checked out, current address was correct: Wicken’s Hunt. Unmarried. Excellent credit, no priors. No red flags at all in her background. He had a good slice of her past right there in his hand in less than half an hour. Computers were wonderful. And yet . . .

  He looked at her age again. Thirty years old. He thought back to the house and substantial grounds, three hundred acres of prime Virginia real estate. He knew the asking price for Wicken’s Hunt had been six million dollars. If she had struck a wonderful deal, Ms. Savage could conceivably have gotten it for between four and five million, but from what he heard the renovation work had easily run to seven figures. Where the hell does a woman that young get that kind of money? She wasn’t a movie star or rock star; the name Catherine Savage meant nothing to him, and he wasn’t that far out of the loop on popular culture.

  Or was it Charlie who had the bucks? They weren’t husband and wife, that was clear. He had said he was family, but something was off there too. He leaned back in his chair, slid open a drawer of his desk, and popped a couple of aspirin, as his neck threatened to stiffen up again. It could be she had inherited serious family money or been the extraordinarily rich widow of some old duffer. Recalling her face, he could easily see that. A lot of men would shower her with everything they had.

  So what now? He looked out the window of his office at the beauty of the surrounding trees with their vibrant fall colors. Things were going well for him: An unhappy past behind him; a thriving business in a place he loved. A low-key lifestyle that he figured would add lots of quality years to his life. And now this. He held the piece of paper with her name on it up to eye level. Despite having no material incentive to care at all about her, Riggs’s curiosity was at a high pitch.

  “Who the hell are you, Catherine Savage?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “You about ready, honey?” LuAnn peeked in the door and cast her gaze fondly on the back of the young girl who was finishing dressing.

  Lisa looked around at her mother. “Almost.”

  With a face and athletic build that mirrored LuAnn’s, Lisa Savage was the one immovable landmark in her mother’s life.

  LuAnn stepped into the room, closed the door, and settled on the bed. “Miss Sally says you didn’t eat much breakfast, are you feeling all right?”

  “I have a test today. I guess I’m just a little nervous.” One result of having lived all over the world was that her speech carried myriad traces of the different cultures, dialects, and accents. The mesh was a pleasing one, although several months in Virginia had already started to graft upon Lisa the beginnings of a mild Southern inflection.

  LuAnn smiled. “I would’ve thought that by now, after so many straight A’s, you wouldn’t get so nervous.” She touched her daughter’s shoulder. During the time spent traveling, LuAnn had thrown every ounce of energy and a great deal of money into reshaping herself to be who she had always wanted to be, which was as far from Southern white trash named LuAnn Tyler as she could get. Well-educated, able to speak two foreign languages, she noted with pride that Lisa could speak four, as much at home in China as in London. She had covered several lifetimes in the last ten years. With this morning’s developments, maybe that was a good thing. Had she run out of time?

  Lisa finished dressing and sat down with her back to her mother. LuAnn picked up a brush and started doing her daughter’s hair, a daily ritual between the two that allowed them to talk and catch up with each other.

  “I can’t help it, I still do get nervous. It’s not always easy.”

  “Most things worthwhile in life aren’t easy. But, you work hard and that’s the important thing. You do your best, that’s all I’ll ever ask, regardless of what your grades are.” She combed Lisa’s hair into a thick ponytail and then clipped on a bow. “Just don’t bring home any B’s.” They both laughed.

  As they walked downstairs together, Lisa looked over at her mother. “I saw you talking to a man outside this morning. You and Uncle Charlie.”

  LuAnn tried to hide her apprehensiveness. “You were up? It was pretty early.”

  “Like I said, I was nervous about the test.”

  “Right.”

  “Who was he?”

  “He’s putting up the security fence and gate around the property. He had some questions about the plans.”

  “Why do we need a security fence?”

  LuAnn took her hand. “We’ve talked about this before, Lisa. We’re, well, we’re very well-off financially. You know that. There are some bad people in the world. They might try to do things, to get money from us.”

  “Like robbing us?”

  “Yes, or maybe something else.”

  “Like what?”

  LuAnn stopped and sat down on the steps, beckoning Lisa to join her. “Remember how I’m always telling you to be careful, watch out for people?” Lisa nodded. “Well, that’s because some bad people might try to take you away from me.”

  Lisa looked frightened. “I’m not telling you that to scare you, baby, but in a way I guess I do want you to be concerned, to be aware of what’s going on. If you use your head and keep your eyes open, everything will be fine. Me and Uncle Charlie won’t let anything happen to you. Mommy promises. Okay?”

  Lisa nodded and they went down the stairs hand in hand.

  Charlie met them in the hallway. “My, don’t we look extra pretty this morning.”

  “I’ve got a test.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I was up last night until ten-thirty with you going over the stuff. You’re gonna ace it, sure as anything. Go get your coat, I’ll be out front in the car.”

  “Isn’t Mommy taking me today?”

  Charlie glanced over at LuAnn. “I’m gonna give your mom a break this morning. Besides, it’ll give us one more time to go over the test stuff, right?”

  Lisa beamed. “Right.”

  After Lisa had gone, Charlie turned a very serious face to LuAnn. “I’m gonna check some things out in town after I drop Lisa off.”

  “You think you can find this guy?”

  Charlie shrugged as he buttoned up his overcoat. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s not a big town, but it’s got lots of hiding places. One reason we picked it, right?”

  LuAnn nodded. “What about Riggs?”

  “I’ll save him for later. I go knock on his door now, he might get more suspicious than he already is. I’ll call from the car if I find out anything.”

  LuAnn watched the two climb into Charlie’s Range Rover and drive off. Deep in thought, she pulled on a heavy coat, walked through the house and out the back. She passed the Olympic-size pool with surrounding flagstone patio and three-foot-high brick wall. At this time of year, the pool was drained and protected by a metal cover. The tennis court would probably go in next year. LuAnn cared little for either activity. Her underprivileged childhood had yielded no opportunities to idly hit a yellow ball around or lounge in chlorinated water. But Lisa was an avid swimmer and tennis player, and upon arriving at Wicken’s Hunt, she had pressed eagerly for a tennis court. Actually, it was nice to know she was going to be around in one spot long enough actually to plan something like the construction of a tennis court down the road.

  The one activity LuAnn had picked up in her travels was what she was heading to do right now. The horse barn was about five hundred yards behind the main house and surrounded on three sides by a thick grove of trees. Her long strides took her there quickly. She employed several people full-time to care for the grounds and horse barn, but they were not yet at work. She pulled the gear from the tack room and expertly saddled her horse, Joy, named for her mother.
She snagged a wide-brimmed Stetson hat and leather gloves off the wall, and swung herself up onto her ride. She had had Joy for several years now; the horse had traveled with them to several countries, not an easy task, but one that was quite manageable when your pocketbook was bottomless. LuAnn and company had arrived in the United States via plane. Joy had made the crossing by boat.

  One reason she and Charlie had decided upon the property was its myriad of riding trails, some probably dating from Thomas Jefferson’s days.

  She started off at a good pace and soon left the house behind. Twin clouds of breath escorted the pair as they made their way down a gradual decline and then around a curve, the trees hugging either side of the trail. The morning’s briskness helped to clear LuAnn’s head, let her think about things.

  She had not recognized the man, not that she had expected to. Counterintuitively, she had always expected discovery to come from unknown quarters. He had known her real name. Whether that was a recent discovery on his part or he had found out long ago, she had no way of knowing.

  Many times she had thought about going back to Georgia and telling the truth, just making a clean breast of it and attempting to put all of it behind her. But these thoughts had never managed to work themselves into cohesive actions and the reasons were clear. Although she had killed the man in self-defense, the words of the person calling himself Mr. Rainbow had continually come back to her. She had run. Thus, the police would assume the worst. On top of that, she was vastly rich, and who would have any sympathy or compassion for her now? Especially people from her hometown. The Shirley Watsons of the world were not so rare. Added to that was the fact that she had done something that was absolutely wrong. The horse she was riding, the clothes she was wearing, the home she was living in, the education and worldliness she had obtained over the years for herself and Lisa, all had been bought and paid for with what amounted to stolen dollars. In stark fiscal terms, she was one of the biggest crooks in history. If need be, she could endure prosecution for all that, but then Lisa’s face sprung up in her thoughts. Almost simultaneously, the imagined words of Benny Tyler that day at the graveyard came filtering back to her.

  Do it for Big Daddy. When did I ever lie to you, baby doll? Daddy loves you.

  She pulled Joy to a halt and sunk her head in her hands as a painful vision entered her head.

  Lisa, sweetheart, your whole life is a lie. You were born in a trailer in the woods because I couldn’t afford to have you anywhere else. Your father was a no-account loser who got murdered over drugs. I used to stick you under the counter at the Number One Truck Stop in Rikersville, Georgia, while I waited tables. I’ve killed a man and run from the police over it. Mommy stole all this money, more money than you could dream of. Everything you and I have came from that stolen money.

  When did Mommy ever lie to you, baby doll? Mommy loves you.

  LuAnn slowly dismounted and collapsed on a large stone that jutted at an angle from the ground. Only after several minutes did she slowly come around, her head swaying in long, slow movements, as though she were drunk.

  She finally rose and took a handful of pebbles from the ground. She idly skipped the stones across the smooth surface of a small pond, sending each one farther and farther with quick, graceful flicks of her wrist. She could never go back now. There was nothing to go back to. She had given herself a new life, but it had come with a terrifyingly high cost. Her past was total fabrication, thus her future was uncertain. Her day-to-day existence vacillated between fear of total collapse of the flimsy veneer shrouding her true identity and immense guilt for what she had done. But if she lived for anything, it was to ensure that Lisa’s life would not be harmed in any way by her mother’s past — or future — actions. Whatever else happened, her little girl would not suffer because of her.

  LuAnn remounted Joy, cantering along until she slowed the mare down to a walk as they passed through some overhanging tree branches. She guided Joy to the edge of the trail and watched the swift, powerful thrust of the swollen creek that cut a jagged path across her property. There had been recent heavy rains, and early snow in the mountains had turned the usually docile water into a dangerous torrent. She backed Joy away from the edge and continued on.

  Ten years ago, just after she, Charlie, and Lisa had landed in London, they had immediately boarded a plane for Sweden. Jackson had given them detailed marching orders for the first twelve months and they had not dared to deviate from them. The next six months had been a whirlwind zigzag through western Europe and then several years in Holland and then back to Scandinavia where a tall, light-haired woman would not seem so out of place. They had also spent time in Monaco and surrounding countries. The last two years had them in New Zealand, where they had all enjoyed the quiet, civilized, and even somewhat old-fashioned lifestyle. While Lisa knew multiple languages, English had been her primary one; LuAnn had been firm on that. LuAnn was an American despite spending so much time away.

  It had indeed been fortunate that Charlie was a seasoned traveler. It had been largely through his efforts that potential disaster had been avoided at several different times. They had not heard from Jackson, but both assumed that he knew Charlie was with her. Thank God he was. If he hadn’t gotten on that plane, LuAnn didn’t know what she would’ve done. As it stood now, she couldn’t function without him. And he wasn’t getting any younger. She shook at the thought of life without the man. To be robbed of the one person in her life who shared her secret, who loved her and Lisa. There was nothing Charlie wouldn’t do for them, and when his life ended and that void erupted . . . She drew in a deep breath.

  Their new identities had been cemented over the years as LuAnn had taken great pains to establish the history Jackson had concocted for her and her daughter. The toughest part by far had been Lisa. Lisa believed her father to have been an extremely wealthy European financier who had died when Lisa was very young and who had left behind no family other than them. Charlie’s role, while never fully explained, was clearly one of family and the “uncle” label had seemed a natural one. There were no photographs of Mr. Savage. LuAnn had explained to Lisa that her father was very reclusive and a touch eccentric and had allowed none to be taken. LuAnn and Charlie had long debated whether actually to create a man, photos and all, but had decided that it would be too dangerous. A wall with holes punched through it would eventually fall. Thus, Lisa believed her mother to be the very young widow of an extremely wealthy man, whose wealth, in turn, had made her mother one of the wealthiest women in the world. And one of the most generous.

  LuAnn had sent Beth, her former coworker, enough money to start her own chain of restaurants. Johnny Jarvis from the mall had received enough to pay for several advanced degrees at the country’s most prestigious universities. Duane’s parents had received enough money to keep them secure in their retirement. LuAnn had even sent money to Shirley Watson, a guilty reaction to having lashed the woman with a negative reputation in the only place where Shirley would ever have the ambition or courage to live. Finally, LuAnn’s mother’s gravesite was now marked with a far more elaborate monument. The police, she was sure, had done all they could to track her down through this largesse, but without success. Jackson had hidden the money well and there had been absolutely no trace for the authorities to follow.

  In addition, half her yearly income had been donated anonymously to a number of charities and other good works that she and Charlie had identified over the years. They were ever on the lookout for more deserving homes for the lottery money. LuAnn was determined to do as much good as she could with the money to atone, at least in part, for the manner in which she had acquired it. Even with all that, the money came in far faster than they could dispose of it. Jackson’s investments had paid off more handsomely than even he had envisioned and the anticipated twenty-five million dollars in earnings each year had actually exceeded forty million per annum. All money unspent by LuAnn had also been reinvested by Jackson and the surplus had kept compounding until
the assets LuAnn now held in her own name were almost half a billion dollars. She shook her head at the thought of the staggering sum. And the original lottery prize money, one hundred million dollars, was to be returned to her very shortly, the ten-year period having expired, as her contract with Jackson had stated. That mattered little to LuAnn. Jackson could keep it; it wasn’t as though she needed it. But he would return it. The man, she had to admit, had been utterly faithful to his promise.

  Over all these years, every quarter the detailed financial statements had arrived, no matter where they happened to be in the world. But since only the papers and never the man showed up, LuAnn’s anxiety finally had passed. The letter accompanying all the financial packets was from an investment company with a Swiss address. She had no idea of Jackson’s ties to this firm, nor did she care to explore that area further. She had seen enough of him to be respectful of his volatility; and more disturbingly, of the extreme consequences which he was capable of causing. She also remembered how he had been prepared to kill her if she had rejected his offer. There was something not quite natural about him. The powers he seemed to possess could hardly be of this world.

  She stopped at a large oak. From one of its branches a long knotted rope dangled. LuAnn gripped the rope and lifted herself off the saddle, while Joy, already quite familiar with this ritual, waited patiently. Her arms moving like wonderfully calibrated pistons, LuAnn swiftly climbed to the other end of the rope, which was tied around a thick branch almost thirty feet off the ground, and then made her way back down. She repeated the process twice more. She had a fully equipped gymnasium in her home where she worked out diligently. It wasn’t vanity; she had little interest in how it made her look. She was naturally strong, and that physical strength had carried her through many a crisis. It was one of the few constant things in her life and she was loath to let it disappear.

  Growing up in Georgia, she had climbed many trees, run through miles of countryside, and jumped many ravines. She had just been having fun; the concept of exercise hadn’t come into the equation. And so, in addition to pumping the iron, she had built a more natural exercise course across her extensive grounds. She pulled herself up the rope one more time, the muscle cords in her arms and back tight as rebar.

  Breathing hard, she settled lightly back into the saddle and made her way back to the horse barn, her heart lightened and her spirits raised by the invigorating ride through the countryside and the strenuous rope climb.

  In the large storage building next to the horse barn, one of the groundspeople, a beefy man in his early thirties, had just started splitting logs with a sledgehammer and wedge. LuAnn glanced at him through the open doorway as she rode by. She quickly unsaddled Joy and returned the horse to its stall. She walked over to the doorway of the outbuilding. The man briefly nodded to her and then continued his work. He knew she lived in the mansion.