French Silk(149)

Claire gave Josh's hand a light squeeze before releasing it and turning to Ariel again. "I have no intention of disclosing my relationship to Jackson Wilde. Frankly, I'm not at all proud of it, and it would focus attention on my mother, which I hope to avoid."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"To strongly suggest that you forget you ever heard of French Silk or anyone connected to it."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll reveal to the world the real Jackson Wilde. I'm sure you don't want your late husband exposed as a seducer of young girls, a fornicator, a thief, a liar, and a child deserter. It wouldn't be good for the ministry, would it?"

Ariel's wide blue eyes blinked rapidly. She was obviously afraid, but not yet ready to concede. "You can't prove it."

"You can't disprove it. And people always believe the worst, don't they, Ariel? In fact, you've used that human trait to your advantage each time you've spoken my name to the media."

Ariel opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"I was certain you'd see the wisdom in my argument," Claire said. "I think it would be best for both of us if we let this matter drop. I want nothing of Jackson Wilde's. Not even his hateful name. If I'm allowed to pursue my interests without any further interference from you, your husband's treachery will remain a secret. However, if you continue your crusade against me and French Silk, I would be forced to reconsider my position." Claire smiled. "But I'm confident I won't."

She looked at Josh. "Goodbye for now. I'll be in touch soon." She turned and moved toward the door.

Cassidy paused to deliver a parting shot. "I'm continuing my investigation into your husband's murder, Mrs. Wilde. I have new evidence which I'm certain will result in a conviction. In the meantime, I advise you to stay out of my business, keep out of my way, get your butt back to Nashville, and concentrate on winning lost souls."

* * *

"I'd like to help Josh further his music career. I know a lot of people in New York. I could introduce him around, get him in the right circles. He should have the opportunity to cultivate his talent as he always wanted to."

Claire and Cassidy were cuddled together on the glider in the courtyard of Aunt Laurel's house. Late that afternoon, news that she had retracted her confession reached the media. Every reporter in the country wanted statements from her and Cassidy. Crowder had told them to "clear the hell out, lay low for a couple of days," and let him handle it.

He intended to hold a press conference and announce that Claire Laurent had made a false confession in order to spare herself, her business, and her family any further distress. He planned to dismiss her confession completely, as it had been induced by harassment from the media and the Jackson Wilde Ministry, and bereavement over the loss of her friend and business associate, Yasmine. He would also suggest that the joint investigative forces were in possession of evidence that negated any involvement on Ms. Laurent's part and that opened up a whole new avenue of investigation. That was stretching it a bit, but Crowder was first and foremost a politician.

After leaving him, Claire and Cassidy had gone to Harriett York's house to see Mary Catherine. She had beaten Harry in every game of gin they'd played and proudly showed them the eighty-two cents she'd won.

"Harry's a perfect hostess, but when will we be going home, Claire Louise?"

"Consider this a vacation, Mama. In a few days, we'll all go home." She drew her mother close and hugged her tight.

"You've always been such a wonderful daughter," Mary Catherine said, stroking Claire's cheek. "When we get home, I'll bake you one of Aunt Laurel's famous French Silk pies. Do you like chocolate pie, Mr. Cassidy?"

"Love it."

Her face lit up. "Then we must have one very soon for you to share with us."

"I'd like that. Thanks for the invitation."

Now, Claire nestled her head on Cassidy's shoulder, content to be in this quiet retreat. They'd thrown a quilt over the weather-worn canvas cushions of the glider. It squeaked rustily each time it rocked, but Claire had never been as comfortable.

"Is Josh going to be another of your adoptees?" Cassidy asked with a smile in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"You have a habit of adopting people and assuming their problems as your own. Mary Catherine. To an extent, Andre. Yasmine."

"Not Yasmine. She took me on."

"Maybe at first. But you were the strong one, Claire. The backbone of French Silk. The creative genius and the one with the business sense to market your product effectively. Her name might have helped to launch you, but she had come to need French Silk more than it needed her."

Claire knew that what he said was true, but it seemed disloyal to her friend to agree. "I'm going to miss her. I find myself trying to remember what day she's coming in from New York before I remember that she won't be coming."

"That's natural. It'll take a while."

"A long while."

They were quiet for a moment, the silence broken only by the squeaking of the glider. Finally Cassidy said, "What about me?"

Claire raised her head and looked at him quizzically. "What about you?"

"Are you going to adopt me, too?"