Authors: Lisa Jackson

You Don't Want To Know (40 page)

BOOK: You Don't Want To Know

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Ava's knees buckled and Jewel-Anne screamed as they started to pitch over the rail together. Ava hung on hard. “You sold Noah?” she accused.

Nodding frantically, Jewel-Anne sobbed as she clung to her cousin for dear life, her fingers clawing at Ava, digging into her flesh as the terror set in. “Yes,” she admitted, gasping. “I sold my son!” She was sobbing pitifully now, as if her heart were breaking into a thousand painful shards. “But,” she cried, starting to hiccup, “I'm not the only one to blame. You played a part in this, too!” she accused as the damned clock began to chime from below. “I did sell my baby, but damn it, Ava, you bought him!”

CHAPTER 39

“Y
ou bought him. You bought him. You bought him . . .”

Reeling, Ava felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut.

The accusation that she'd actually purchased her child echoed in her brain as the floor a story beneath suddenly seemed to swirl seductively.
Jewel-Anne sold Noah, but
you
bought him.
You
and Wyatt.
You
were a part of this hideous lie. You bought your own son and covered up the truth! You're no better than Jewel-Anne!

“Where is he?” Ava demanded hoarsely. Leaning over her cousin, she pressed her weight into the younger woman. She wondered if they would fall . . . if it would matter.

Jewel-Anne screamed in sheer horror.

“Stop!” Wyatt ordered. He was running barefoot, his hair mussed, wearing only pajama bottoms. Upon them now, he yanked at Ava's arm. “Christ, Ava. Don't do this!”

Again Jewel-Anne screamed, and this time Ava snapped back to reality. She recognized the horror of the situation just as Wyatt jerked her away from the railing, pulling both Jewel-Anne and her to safety.

Ava started shaking uncontrollably. She could have easily lost her balance and pitched over the railing, killing them both. In her mind's eye, she saw her broken body as well as her cousin's, their arms and legs sprawled at impossible angles, their heads twisted on broken necks, her blood seeping into Jewel-Anne's on the polished tile floor.

“Oh . . . dear . . . God . . .”

Jewel-Anne was crumpled in a heap on the floor of the balcony. Tears streamed down her chalky face. Scooting away from Ava, she glared up at her and spat, “You really are a freak show!” She could scarcely catch her breath as she pointed an accusing finger up at Ava. “You need to be locked up! Forever! You can't go around assaulting people. I'm . . . I'm pressing charges! And don't think I won't! Assault or intent to kill or whatever!” Her face contorted with her hatred. “You should have died, you know. That night on the boat? It should have been you! Not Kelvin! You hear me? You!” Her finger jabbed the air as she sobbed wildly. “You should have died with your baby!”

Ava staggered back at the vitriol coming out of her cousin.

Slowly, eyes focused on Ava, Jewel-Anne used the bars of the stair rail to pull herself to her feet. When Wyatt tried to step in, Jewel-Anne, red-faced, sweating, tears and snot running down her face, turned her fury on him, too. “Leave me alone!” she yelled at him, but her gaze was fixed on Ava. “Next time you try to commit suicide, give me a call. I'll be glad to help.”

“That's enough!” Wyatt said sharply, but Jewel-Anne sneered up at him.

“You're no better,” she charged, holding the rail with one hand and swiping at her face with the sleeve of her free arm. “The only reason you stick around is because of the money!” She looked from Wyatt to Ava. “You're rightâhe's having an affair. I heard him on the phone.”

“Shut up, Jewel!” Wyatt warned as Demetria, pushing Jewel-Anne's wheelchair, reached them.

“Everyone just calm down,” Demetria ordered, grabbing Jewel-Anne and helping her into her chair.

But Ava wasn't finished. “Who is he?” she demanded of her cousin. “Noah's father. What's his name?”

Jewel-Anne clamped her jaw shut.

“I can't believe you were involved with anyone . . .”

“Of course you can't,” Jewel-Anne said, sniffing loudly. “It's incomprehensible to you that anyone would want me, isn't it?”

“Who?” she asked Wyatt.

“She's never said.”

“And you didn't ask?”

“Of course he asked, but I'll never tell!” Jewel-Anne's smug superiority was beginning to manifest itself again. She smoothed her braid and said, “And you'll never know.”

Ava turned to her husband and said in a dead voice, “It was Jewel-Anne. She's the one who's been gaslighting me. She recorded a baby crying and piped it into my room. I have proof: Her equipment is in the attic, and I caught her on video restarting it. That's what I bought in Seattle, spy equipment. So I could flush her out!” Wyatt and Demetria stared at her as if she were stark, raving mad. “Look on Jewel-Anne's laptop if you don't believe me. On her desk. I downloaded the film onto a jump drive and played it for her. It's still there. She's been trying to make me look like I'm a lunatic.”

“You
are
a lunatic. I don't have to help you,” Jewel-Anne rebuffed, then to Wyatt, “She set me up. Through some kind of trick photography or Photoshop magic, or whatever. Anyone can mess with computer graphics these days, you know. Ava showed me video that's
supposed
to be me climbing up the back staircase. Oh, yeah. Like I could do that.” Even staring upward, Jewel-Anne managed to somehow look down her nose at Ava.

Wyatt turned to Ava. “I never heard the crying,” he said carefully, as if he were inclined to believe Jewel-Anne!

“It was somehow piped into my room and the nursery. And Jewel-Anne, she even said she heard it, just . . . just to throw me off track. For God's sake, look on her computer! The images that I caught on tape, the
unaltered film,
is still there!” Giving herself a quick mental shake, Ava pulled herself together as much as she could, then stormed after Jewel-Anne and the nursemaid to her cousin's room. Wyatt was on her heels, and though Jewel-Anne tried to shut down her computer, Wyatt stopped her from reaching the keyboard, and while she protested mightily, he watched the screen where Jewel-Anne was pulling herself upstairs.

“So you can walk,” he stated flatly, his gaze fastened to the image on the monitor. “And you did this thing? You tried to make Ava appear paranoid.”

“She is paranoid!” Jewel-Anne insisted. “And I
cannot
walk. Just . . . kind of balance myself.”

Demetria, her gaze glued to the computer, said softly, “We're working on balance and strength, hopefully movement, with the physical therapist. But I had no idea . . .” She cocked her head toward her charge. “Jewel-Anne?”

There was no denying the tape. Trapped, Jewel-Anne glared hotly at Ava. “Okay. Yes!” she snapped, then climbed back into the bed with her bevy of scary-looking dolls.

“Why?” Wyatt demanded.

Ava said, “She blames me for Kelvin's death and for not selling her the house and for her accident and for her having to give up the baby and everything. All of her misery, it's my fault.”

“It is!” Jewel-Anne insisted, as if she truly believed her lies. “You've never understood how much I hurt inside. You act like I'm invisible.”

Wyatt whispered, “Jesus.”

“And you!” Jewel-Anne snarled at Wyatt as she yanked up the fluffy pink covers. “You were the one who wanted to keep the big lie going, weren't you? Let her think that she gave birth to Noah! So don't go all judgmental on me!”

“You're deluded,” Ava said.

Jewel-Anne snorted a bitter little laugh. “Look who's talking!”

“You left Noah's wet shoes for me to find,” Ava charged. “You put that sick doll in its casket.” Fury burned through her veins. “You planted the key to that casket in my pocket and kept taunting me, wheeling out to Noah's memory marker in the garden, trying to get me to figure out that something was buried there!”

“No, Iâ” Jewel-Anne started.

“You need to leave my house,” Ava cut her off, quaking inside.

“It's my house, too!”

“We'll buy you out,” Wyatt said suddenly.

“
I'll
buy you out,” Ava corrected. Wyatt wasn't an innocent in all of this; Jewel-Anne was right about that.

Jewel-Anne shook her head violently, then arranged the dolls around her. “I will never sell.”

“Then I'll find another way,” Ava warned.

“You can't,” Jewel-Anne said, certain she had the upper hand.

“Don't push me,” Ava gritted.

Wyatt's hand clamped over her arm, drawing her back. “I think that's enough,” he said quietly.

She shook him off. “We're not done here,” Ava insisted.

“How could she possibly dig a grave?” Wyatt asked.

“She had help,” Ava said. “She had to have had an accomplice.” Ava turned to her cousin. “Jacob. His reaction to digging up the doll was just an act.”

Jewel-Anne rolled wide eyes toward Demetria and said in a little-girl voice, “I'm really tired.”

“Fine! If you won't tell the truth, I know someone who will!” Ava had come this far; she wasn't going to stop now. She started for the door.

“Wait!” Wyatt called. “Ava, what do you think you're doing?”

“Going to talk to Jacob!”

“But it'sâ”

“Three in the morning. Yes.” He was right on her heels, but she didn't care. As she'd said, her husband was a part of this, too, probably more than she could even imagine. And he wasn't alone. Everyone who knew that Noah had been adopted was involved, all part of the ever-widening conspiracy against her. Not just Jacob. Members of the staff. Maybe Ian and Trent, even Zinnia in California could be a part of this. And where was Noah? Did any one of them know? Could he be hidden away somewhere?

Stop it! Pull yourself together! One thing at a time.

“You need to wait until you calm down,” Wyatt ordered as she dashed through the kitchen and out the back door to the porch. Just a step behind, he caught her elbow and propelled her backward, spinning her to face him. “Slow down, Ava. You can't go off half-cocked, accusing people in the middle of the night.”

She couldn't believe that she'd ever been in love with him. A damp wind rustled through the branches of the fir trees, chasing across the yard, smelling of earth and sea, causing her skin to prickle with the cold. “You should be demanding to know about your son. Our son. Why didn't you tell me, Wyatt? Why?”

“Because Dr. McPherson thought it best if you worked it out on your own. She was certain your nightmares have as much to do with the child you lost as with Noah. Deep down in your subconscious, you knew about the miscarriage, and you couldn't face it. You transferred it to your worries about Noah.”

“What kind of psychobabble is that?” She jerked her arm away from him and heard an owl hoot, as if in warning. “Thanks for the Psych 101 lesson, but I'm going to find my son!”

With that, she took off again, down the steps at a dead run. Mr. T, hiding near the stairs, hissed and slunk under the house while she hit the walkway and found the winding path leading to the exterior steps of Jacob's studio. Down she hurried, then banged noisily on the door. “Jacob!” she yelled, ignoring Wyatt as he caught up with her. But then he grabbed her wrist before she could pound any further.

“Stop it!” he ordered.

“Let go of me!” she yelled back.

A muffled, “What the fuck?” came from inside the apartment.

Ava said, “Jacob, open up!”

“Is there a fire or something?” He yanked open the door. His hair was mussed, his eyes red, and he was wearing only boxer shorts that showed off massively hairy legs. The scent of marijuana lingered in the air, and the entire studio was a cluttered mess of dirty clothes, empty pizza boxes, and glowing computer screens. His bed was mussed, the covers spilling onto the floor.

“What do you know about the recording equipment on the third floor?” Ava demanded.

“The what?” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Are you fuckin' nuts?” He staggered back inside and Ava and Wyatt followed.

With an effort, Ava held on to her temper as she related the discovery of Jewel-Anne's attempts at terrorizing her.

“No shit!” was Jacob's response, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You helped her,” Ava accused.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. No way.”

“She couldn't have done it herself,” Ava insisted. Wyatt seemed to want to say something but remained silent.

Jacob answered, “Well, yeah, you got that right. I don't see how. Hell, it's amazing she could even do what you say you caught on camera.” He seemed genuinely astounded and almost envious.

Ava declared, “You had to have helped her. You're the techie around here.”

“I didn't know anything about it.” He held up both hands and looked at Wyatt. “Seriously, man.”

Ava couldn't believe it, but he seemed sincere. Either he was putting on an Oscar-worthy performance or he really wasn't involved.

Wyatt said, “Come on, Ava, we'll sort this all out in the morning.”

BOOK: You Don't Want To Know

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