The Bad Daughter(69)

“Problems?”

“Unfortunately, instead of making your father feel young again, Tara made him feel pretty old pretty damn fast. Not her fault, really. But she had a lot of energy. Your father had a hard time keeping up, if you get my drift.”

Robin nodded, trying to erase the image of her father and Tara in bed together that was already forming in her mind.

“He once told me that he’d forgotten what you thirty-year-olds were like in bed.” Jackie chuckled, remembering. “He was worried about his heart, said he was afraid she was going to kill him. Not intentionally, of course.” She took a deep breath. “Do you want anything to drink? Some water, perhaps? You’re looking a little…”

Robin made a deliberate effort to relax the muscles in her face. “No, nothing. Thank you. I’m fine. You were saying…”

“You’re sure you want to hear this?”

“Quite sure.” Actually, not sure at all.

“It was just that your father had this image of himself as a great lover. Don’t get me wrong—he was. For a man his age, and for a woman my age. Girls your age expect more…stamina. And these days they want—no, they demand—orgasms. Women my age—well, we’re just happy the man shows up. We don’t expect—hell, we don’t want—all-nighters. They’re painful, and truthfully, they’re a little boring. We’ve had the years of foreplay. We know what works; we know what doesn’t. We just want to get to the point. Am I shocking you?”

“No.” Yes.

“At any rate, what I’m getting at here is that I think your father liked the fact that with me he didn’t have to work so hard. He needed to be admired. I admired him. It’s as simple as that.”

“And your husband?” Robin asked. “What about his needs?”

“Oh, my husband lost interest in sex years ago. At least with me.”

“He was seeing other women?”

“Other men, as it turns out,” Jackie said with a shrug. “Amazing how you can live with someone for years and have no idea who they really are.”

“What about how angry he was when he learned of your affair, the threats he made?”

“Purely for show. A way of keeping up the pretense. Not many people know about his other…interests.”

“So you don’t think…”

“That he shot your father? Not a chance. Why would he? I actually think he was relieved when he found out about Greg and me. It meant he didn’t have to feel so guilty anymore. And don’t forget, your father was not only my lover but also a very generous employer. Now, God only knows what’s going to happen, if I’ll still have a job—” She broke off. “Anyway, not your concern.”

“Can you think of anyone else who might have done this?” Robin asked, relieved that they were no longer talking about her father’s sex life. “A disgruntled employee, an unhappy client…?”

Jackie Ingram shook her head with such vehemence that the bun at the nape of her neck came loose, sending strands of dark hair cascading onto her shoulders. “Your father could be stubborn and imperious, even ruthless at times, and it’s true that not everybody was a big fan, but to do something like this, to kill people, to shoot a child, no, I can’t imagine any of our employees or clients ever being that angry.” She paused. “Your father’s not going to make it, is he?”

“It doesn’t look good.” Robin stood up. “I should go.”

Jackie Ingram was immediately on her feet. “Will you tell him that we’re all praying for him, that we…that I miss him.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Robin allowed the other woman to take her in her arms and hug her close. “I can find my way out.”

“Take care,” Jackie called after her.

Her sister and brother were waiting by the car when Robin emerged into the bright sunshine. “Told you that’s where she was,” Melanie said to Alec.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, a blanket of heat falling on her head. “Were you waiting long?”

“Long enough.” Melanie unlocked the car doors and climbed behind the wheel. “Get in.”

“Where are we going?” Robin asked, getting in beside her.

Melanie was pulling away from the curb even before Robin had her seat belt fastened. “To see a friend of mine.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


“Are you going to tell me who this friend is?” Robin asked when Melanie failed to elaborate.

“Don’t think so,” her sister said.

“Is this the same friend you were talking to earlier?”

“Could be.”

“Are we playing Twenty Questions?”

“Only if you insist on asking them.”

Robin swiveled around in her seat to face her brother. “What happened with McAllister?”

“Confidential,” he said.

“Seriously?” she asked. “Nobody’s telling me anything?” Robin returned to her previous position, staring at the scenery beyond the side window as it quickly changed from urban to rural, barren fields taking the place of sidewalks and offices. The only constant was the heat, which rose like waves from the pavement. “And no one’s curious about my visit to Dad’s office?” she asked after several seconds had passed.