The Bad Daughter(68)

“She’ll be right with you,” Shannon said, hanging up the phone. “How’s the little girl? Cassidy, right?”

“Yes, Cassidy,” Robin agreed. “It looks like she’ll be okay.”

“Well, thank God for that. Oh, here comes Jackie now.”

Robin turned as Jackie Ingram rounded the corner. A look of relief instantly flooded the woman’s face. Clearly she’d been expecting Melanie. No worries, Robin thought with a smile. She has that effect on all of us.

“Is…has something…your father…?” Jackie began, but was unable to complete a sentence.

“There’s been no change.”

Jackie nodded, tapping her hand lightly on her heart. She was wearing a dark blue suit, and her hair was pulled into the same soft bun that she’d had the first time they’d met, in Greg Davis’s hospital room. She wasn’t quite as attractive as Robin remembered—her features a little too doughy, her nose a tad too prominent. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked every bit of her fifty-plus years. It was hard to imagine her father choosing her as a lover. Especially with Tara waiting for him at home.

Unless, of course, Tara wasn’t waiting, at home or anywhere else.

What’s good for the goose…

Jackie Ingram stared at her expectantly. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I don’t know,” Robin began. Why was she here? “I don’t know.” Tears filled her eyes and began streaming down her cheeks.

“Why don’t we go into my office?” Jackie wrapped her arms around Robin and led her down the hall without waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry. I’m really embarrassed,” Robin said as they entered the first office on the left and Jackie directed her to one of the two beige velvet tub chairs opposite her desk. A tissue appeared in her hand, as if she’d pulled it magically from her sleeve, and she handed it to Robin, then sat down in the chair beside her.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

Robin blew her nose, then dabbed at her eyes, although it did no good. The tears kept coming. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I can’t seem to stop.”

“It’s okay,” Jackie said. “This can’t be an easy time for you.”

“You’re very kind.” Behind Jackie’s desk a large window revealed a view of mountains in the distance, peeking out beyond the tops of the surrounding buildings. Inside the crowded office, stacks of Architectural Digest and assorted other architecture and design magazines stretched across the beige-carpeted floor, climbing up the pale blue walls like vines.

“Are these your grandchildren?” Robin asked, referring to three framed photographs on the wall to her right, one of two little boys bearing proud, toothless grins, another of three little girls in lacy dresses, the last of a smiling baby asleep in its mother’s arms.

Was my father really sleeping with a grandmother?

“Aren’t they beautiful? Three girls, three boys. But you didn’t come here to talk about my grandchildren.”

“To be honest, I have no idea why I’m here.”

“You want to know about your father and me,” Jackie Ingram stated without rancor.

“My sister was out of line the other day,” Robin said. “I’m sorry.”

“Your sister was out of line,” Jackie agreed. “But she was also right.”

“You were sleeping with my father?”

“We were having an affair, yes,” Jackie said, making the subtle correction.

“When? For how long? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t mind,” Jackie said. “Let’s see. I came to work here two years ago, after Lisa Holt left, and it probably started about six months after that. Did you know Lisa?”

Robin shook her head. “Was my father having an affair with her, too?”

“I can’t say for sure. But it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.”

“You’re not. I’ve known about my father’s extracurricular activities for years. I just thought maybe he’d changed after he married Tara.”

“You mean because she was so much younger than he was?”

“Yes,” Robin admitted. “I guess I figured she’d be more than enough for him.”

“I actually think that was part of the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Can I be blunt?”

Robin almost laughed. Tara was dead, her father was gravely injured, and she was sitting in an office being comforted by her father’s last known mistress. A grandmother, no less. “By all means,” she said, lifting her hands in resignation. “Be blunt.”

“I think your father didn’t quite know what he was getting into when he married Tara. Not only was she much younger, but she also had a very young child. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a youngster underfoot all day, every day. Not that he didn’t love Cassidy. He did. But as she got older…well, you know what girls Cassidy’s age are like. They’re not the easiest. She and her mother fought a lot. Your father hated that. And Tara hated having to share a house with your sister and that poor boy of hers. She was always after him to move into a place of their own. And then there were problems…in the bedroom.”