Free Stillwatch by Mary Higgins Clark

steer the subject back to Abigail.Her opportunity came as she made a pretense of sipping the wineJeremy insisted they have with the indifferently served chicken salad.“It helps to wash it down, my dear,” he told her. “I’m afraid whenmy wife is away, Anna doesn’t put her best foot forward. Not likeAbby’s mother. Francey Foster took pride in everything she prepared.The breads, the cakes, the soufflés . . . Does Abby cook?”“I don’t know,” Pat said. Her voice became confidential. “Mr.Saunders, I can’t help feeling that you are angry at Senator Jennings.Am I wrong? I had the impression that at one time you two cared agreat deal about each other.”“Angry at her? Angry?” His voice was thick, his words slurred.“Wouldn’t you be angry at someone who set out to make a fool ofyou—and succeeded magnificently?”It was happening now—the moment that came in so many of herinterviews when people let down their guard and began to reveal themselves.
     
50
     

She studied Jeremy Saunders. This sleekly overfed, drunken manin his ridiculous formal getup was mulling a distasteful memory. Therewas pain as well as anger in the guileless eyes, the too soft mouth,the weak, puffy chin.“Abigail,” he said, his tone calmer, “United States Senator fromVirginia.” He bowed elaborately. “My dear Patricia Traymore, youhave the distinction of addressing her former fiancé.”Pat tried unsuccessfully to hide her surprise. “You were engaged to Abigail?”“That last summer she was here. Very briefly, of course. Just longenough for her overall scheme. She’d won the state beauty contest butwas smart enough to know she wouldn’t go any further in Atlantic City.She’d tried to get a scholarship to Radcliffe, but her math and sciencemarks weren’t scholarship level. Of course, Abby had no intention ofday-hopping to the local college. It was a terrible dilemma for her, and Istill wonder if Toby didn’t have a hand in planning the solution.“I had just been graduated from Yale and was due to go into myfather’s business—a prospect which did not intrigue me; I was aboutto become engaged to the daughter of my father ’s best friend—aprospect which did not excite me. And here was Abigail right in myown home, telling me what I could become with her at my side,slipping into my bed in the dark of the night, while poor, tired FranceyFoster snored away in their service apartment. The upshot was that Ibought Abigail a beautiful gown, escorted her to the country-clubdance and proposed to her.“When we came home we woke our parents to announce the joyousnews. Can you imagine the scene? My mother, who delighted inordering Abigail to use the back door, watching all her plans for heronly son dissolving. Twenty-four hours later, Abigail left town with acertified check from my father for ten thousand dollars and her bagsfilled with the wardrobe the town people had donated. She was alreadyaccepted by Radcliffe, you see. She only lacked the money to attendthat splendid institution.“I followed her there. She was quite explicit in letting me knowthat everything my father was saying about her was accurate. My
     
51
     

father to his dying day never let me forget what a fool I’d made ofmyself. In thirty-five years of married life, whenever Evelyn hearsAbigail’s name she becomes quite shrewish. As for my mother, theonly satisfaction she could get was to order Francey Foster out of thehouse—and that was cutting off her nose to spite her face. We neverhad a decent cook after that.”When Pat tiptoed out of the room, Jeremy Saunders was asleep,his head bobbing on his chest.It was nearly a quarter to two. The day was clouding up again, asthough more snow might be in the offing. As she drove toward herappointment with Margaret Langley, the retired school principal, shewondered how accurate Jeremy Saunders’ version of Abigail FosterJennings’ behavior as a young woman had been. Manipulator?Schemer? Liar?Whatever, it