Betrayal - Fern Michaels [104]
He burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. Loosen up, Kate, I’m just having fun.”
Then he doesn’t want to go skinny-dipping? “Oh, I know. I was just . . . Never mind. Why don’t I look at that envelope and put the mystery to rest.”
“I thought you wanted to hear about the day he gave it to me.”
“Yes, of course, please tell me.” She took a sip of her wine. Nice.
“It was the day after I had told him about the conviction being overturned and the new trial he would get. He stressed to me over and over that I was not to reveal the contents of the envelope to you unless he died. Said he’d made a promise about something many years ago, and he wanted to keep it. Alex was a man of his word, I know that. We spoke about the case, the reasons he thought Sara might have made the accusation. He asked me several more times if I would swear to do as he instructed. I assured him I was a man of honor. Sounds silly, I know. I remember using that phrase, too. Alex liked that I did. I could tell.
“He told me a bit about his first marriage and when his wife died. He’d done his grieving, but there seemed to be something he kept holding back. Maybe that will be explained when you read what’s inside.” He drank the rest of his wine, pouring another glass for both of them.
Kate thought about Coleman’s last conversation with Alex. A few things puzzled her. She had no idea why he would have brought up Anna, Alex’s first wife, who had died from leukemia. Alex never talked about that period in his life. He was young when he married. By the time he’d realized it was a mistake, Anna was diagnosed with the fatal disease. He’d told Kate he wasn’t the kind of man who could walk away and leave her, knowing she didn’t have long to live. She’d respected him for his decision, but now wondered if there was something more to that period of Alex’s life than she’d been told.
“This is personal, Kate. I’m going to leave you alone for a bit. I’ve got a salad to prepare and a tasty dressing to go along with it. While I’m working in the kitchen, why don’t you look over the contents?”
“If you’re sure you can’t use me in the kitchen, I’d appreciate the time alone.”
“I’ll be just fine. Now go on and open that damned thing,” he joked as he went inside.
Left alone with Alex’s letter—and Kate was sure that was what the envelope held—she was almost afraid to open it. She was nearing the end of her involvement with the life she and Alex had led. After his death she’d made a promise to herself—Alex’s death would not be in vain. She would do whatever it took to clear his name and make the Winter family pay for his death and the anguish they’d caused.
Utilizing the legal system hadn’t really been an option. She knew there was no chance to win in a courtroom. What charges could she bring against the Winters since Alex was dead? Defamation of character, at best, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She needed to dispense justice herself, directly, to those who had caused Alex to die.
Sara Marie Winter and her mother.
Kate opened the gold-colored clasp on the envelope. Inside were several sheets of a yellow legal tablet folded in half. She remembered that this was the kind of paper the inmates wrote their letters on. She had dozens of Alex’s. Removing the papers, Kate saw that her hands were trembling. She suddenly wasn’t sure that she wanted to read the contents of Alex’s letter. After all the nights she had cried and prayed for just one more word from her beloved Alex, she finally had her wish. That old phrase, “Be careful what you wish for,” came to mind. Alex was getting the last word. The question was: Did she really want to hear it?
Of course, she had to. She opened the first sheet of paper. There were all kinds of numbers. She ran her gaze up and down the columns. The numbers to all their accounts. Gertie had them. Kate had never really thought about this since she knew Alex took care of it. But what if something were to happen to Gertie? Alex had known Kate would need these numbers. Still thoughtful, even in death. She brushed a tear from her cheek.
The