Subj: Charade: Chapter 10
Date: 11/4/01 10:38:44 PM Central Standard Time
From: Nicole

December 6, 2008, Collinsport Inn, 10:40 PM-PT

If there ever existed a worse place that she could possibly be sitting, Constance could not think of one. She sat on a sofa with
David, both of them shyly facing Cameron and Kelene Collins. Cameron had descended from a long line of family lawyers and had taken his current position as chief lawyer after his grandfather Chris Collins died. He was beautiful but ruthless, possessing the kind of cutthroat questioning tactics and generalized detachment that made him a surprisingly good lawyer. He and Kelene had been married for almost seven years. They had met at college. He had gone to learn how to make more money and she had gone to meet a man willing to make that money while she spent it at fashionable boutiques and salons; the were almost the perfect pair. Constance would have loved to bail out of such a lovely gathering, but she had been the only member of the family able to go. She took David along because she would not spend a night alone with these Collinses.

“I never expected to see you again,” cooed Cameron, leaning in too close for Constance’s comfort. “But I suppose we all end up returning home, even when we don’t belong here. Right, Constance?”

“Whatever you say, Cam. I suppose you’ve done enough litigation to know who should stay and who should go. It’s your job.”

“I love it. It pays so well.”

Constance could not help but notice the way David squirmed after the last comment. She put her hand on his thigh and looked up at Cameron. “Does it really? I always assumed that the take home pay wouldn’t be so grand once you factor in the costs of cleaning all the blood off the money.”

“Touche, Constance. I should have known you wouldn’t agree with my practices.”

“I don’t see how anyone would agree to you kicking the Carrels off their property just to make a point to whomever you happened to be at war with at the time.”

“They had it coming,” snapped Kelene, her face seemingly buried in her glass.

Cameron cast her a warning glance before turning back to Constance. “You just don’t seem to realize the bind we were in. Devlin was going tough on us. We had to show the old man that we were just as tough as he was. Besides it is the family’s land and they were never able to get the rent in at the times that we would have preferred. They were just the people we needed to prove a point.”

“And did you?”

“We’re working with Devlin today, aren’t we? An act can’t be so wrong if you get what you want in return.” Cameron leaned back in his chair and poured himself a brandy. He took a sip and pointed at Constance, slurring, “But I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a number of questions that I’d love to ask you.”

“I’m an open book, Cameron. I don’t know what you’d want to ask me.”

Cameron laughed as he took another sip. “That’s such a lie. You’re like the Sphinx: you answer the questions in riddles and never speak unless you have something to say or something you need done. But I have some things I want to ask you about."

“Than ask away,” demanded Constance. She had no problem with him asking questions. She knew of nothing that he could possibly ask that would get her into trouble.

“Okay. What happened between you and Quentin?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. What happened between you and Quentin Collins? I used to remember how devoted you were to him when we were younger. You used to hang on his every word he said and you went to him when you had a problem. Oh, you were much better at hiding your obsession with the man than anyone else in the house, but I knew that you were obsessed. Now, we all know that you’re really not family. Everyone here seems fully aware of the fact that you were just a little foundling that Daniel had the kindness of heart not to throw out onto the street to beg with your mother and whatever kind of bar scum happened to spawn you. But you sure were a pretty little thing and we all knew how my older cousin loved a pretty little thing.”

“Would you kindly jump to the point?” demanded Constance.

“Do I have to even make it? You know damn well what I want to know.”

Constance did not know what to say. She could feel her face turning red and she began to sink into the overstuffed sofa. How dare Cameron come on with such an accusation?! She ran through her memory banks, frantically searching for any kind of incident that would lend credence to his denouncement. For the first time in years, Constance realized how spotty her memory was. She could remember fragments of events, but she could never see the entire scene. In truth, she had no clue as to if Cameron was right or wrong. “I can’t believe you would ask such a thing,” she said coolly, hoping her tone would make him back off.

“But I did and I want an answer: were you in love with Quentin? Were you lovers?”

“We were certainly not lovers! God Cam, I am no whore! But, I most definitely loved him,” answered Constance calmly. “He treated me well-- much better than you are right now!–and he always listened to what I had to say. I would have to say that he was one of the only people in this family that I have ever loved.”

“But you weren’t ‘in love’ with him?”

“Of course not. Besides, what would I have gotten from my love? He was hopeless over Maggie.”

“You are right about that,” sighed Cameron in defeat. He stared down into his snifter for at least two full minutes before looking back up at Constance. “But he did take precautions for you. You are written into his will.”

“Yeah . . . so?”

“Well, he wrote that you were always to have a place to stay at Collinwood and he left you some money.”

“And?” asked Constance cautiously.

“Well, where the hell is that money?” asked Kelene giddily. “I mean, you didn’t leave town with it and now you’re in desperate need of it. Where is the money?”

“It’s in the bank in a trust that I can’t get to.”

“Now that’s ridiculous,” laughed Cameron.

“No, it’s not,” said David calmly. The three people turned and stared at him. It was the first time he had spoke in over an hour. “I remember the first time you went to get the money out. You had just turned 18 and you knew that was the age that you would able to get the money. You had what you thought to be the password with you when I drove you up to the bank. I followed you inside and watched you go up to one of the tellers, who went and got another man who took you into a back room. You ran out of that room about fifteen minutes later. I was convinced you were going to cry. You slammed the car door and said, ‘That bastard Chris has changed the password!’ So it seems your grandfather, who was the executor of the estate, played around behind everyone’s backs and changed the code. Why would such an upstanding man do such a thing?”

Constance loved watching Cameron squirm in his seat. She glanced over to David to see a look of practical triumph written across his face. The man did not talk often, but when he did, heads were bound to roll. “I’m not in the position to defend anything my grandfather might have done,” mumbled Cameron.

“But she’s supposed to tell you everything?” asked David. “You’re not her lawyer, Cam. What does she owe you?”

“Technically nothing,” snarled Cameron, his eyes plastered onto David. He turned back to Constance and said, “My grandfather wasn’t the most moral man. He was not always there for those who needed him. He very well may have tampered with your trust. I don’t know what happened to the money or if it’s even there anymore. I’ll be sure to look in on it.”

“Thank you.”

Cameron slumped back into his seat and poured himself yet another brandy. The smile reemerged across his lips and he turned back to Constance. “But I’m not through with my questions.”

“What more do you have to ask?”

“Well, it’s about ‘the night.’ I want to know what happened.”

“What night?” asked Kelene excitedly.

“The night that it all went wrong. Come on, Constance. Tell us what happened.”

“I do . . . I don’t remember,” she managed to stammer as she sank back into the sofa.

“How could you forget?” asked Cameron wickedly. “It was the night your mother died. It was the night that damaged Josef beyond the repair of medical science. And lest I forget, it was the night that Quentin died.”

Constance closed her eyes a moment, searching frantically for the memories to go with the things Cameron said. She could only remember lying in bed, her eyes focused on the stark white ceiling above her. She could remember a doctor, a nurse, and Maggie slowly creeping into the room. She could see their mouths moving, but there was no audio to go along with the movements. Suddenly, she saw Maggie run toward her and take her into her arms, seemingly doing so that they could comfort
each other. Constance could see all these things but none of them made sense. “I don’t really remember that,” she sighed.

“Then Daniel spent some excellent money on that shrink. You know, Maggie had told him not to do it. She said that she could live with all that had happened and she felt that you could too. She said that you were a strong girl, Constance. I just think she felt sorry for you. You were both outsiders in a world that you didn’t belong in. And now you’re really the lone outsider, the only one left from that time who’s not insane or rigid. How do you live with yourself?”

“I live with myself just fine, Cameron. What I don’t understand is how you can live with yourself and be such an asshole.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“If that’s the case, then you’re ace at both rehearsal and the show. Your grandfather must be proud.” With that, Constance jumped off the sofa and fled the room. She did not look back as she left the building and ran straight to the car. Just her luck, David was the one with the keys. She sat on the hood and stared at her hands, attempting to push this dreadful night behind her. How could he have asked such horrible things of her? What did Cameron think of her? Did he see her as some kind of money-grubbing whore who’d do anything for power? Good God, she knew she was as far from being like her mother as anyone could be! Why could they not see this?

Constance looked up once she felt hands descend onto her shoulders. She looked up to see David standing before her. “I bailed on them,” he whispered.

“Oh thank God! What did you tell them?” asked Constance.

“At first, I wasn’t going to say anything. They were very rude to you and I didn’t see the point in being nice to them. I think Kelene asked why you had left and I told her I’d go check on you.”

“And we’re just going to drive off right?”

“That was my plan.”

Constance smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What would I do without you?” she whispered into his neck.

“Kill your family.” David lifted her up off the car and led her to the passenger side door. He opened the door for her and asked, “Do you have anything you want to talk with me about?”

“No,” she murmured. “Not yet.”

David nodded and closed the door. He took his seat behind the wheel and turned back to Constance. He kissed her cheek and said, “Remember, I’m always here in case you need me, okay?”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

With that, they drove off. Neither she nor David spoke the entire drive back to Collinwood. While they drove, Constance dozed off and as she slept, she dreamed. She dreamt she was back at Collinwood. It looked the way it did when she was a teenager. She recognized the room she was in to be her own. She looked over to her desk to see Quentin sitting there. He looked so distressed. “God, I’m glad you’re awake,” he whispered as he walked toward her. He took a seat on the bed and took her into his arms. “Constance, you have to listen to me. It’s time. You’re the only one that can help. I can only do some much for you, but I will do all that I can. I hate that this is on your shoulders but you’re all the hope I have. If you fail, it will never end.”

“But I’m not like you,” she heard herself mumble.

“You’re more like me than you realize,” he answered. “And you have to help protect us from the storm. Can you do it?”

“I’ll try.” Quentin smiled and kissed her cheek. His lips ran down her cheek and to her chin. Soon his mouth clamped over hers and Constance responded in kind, pulling him closer to her as they fell back onto the bed.

Constance awoke with a start. She looked around to realize that they had just arrived back at Collinwood. She glanced over to David, who stared at her cautiously. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Sure,” she lied. She jumped out of the car and made her way toward the door. What had she just dreamt? Surely that had never happened. Cameron could not have been right about her and Quentin. As rambunctious as she had been as a teen, she could have never slept with a married man, much less a married man who she was related to in name only. Constance felt so dirty. Could there be other little secrets swishing around in her subconscious that she could not remember? What were the things that she could not see? If they were anything like her dream, she was not sure that she wanted to know.

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