Fall from Grace Read Online Free PDF Page A

one.”
    Impassive, Adam waited. Teddy inhaled, then continued, “He disinherited Mom and me. The house, and most of Dad’s estate, goes to Carla Pacelli.”
    Stunned, Adam tried to take this in. “The actress?”
    “The very one. Catnip for people whose lips move when they read.”
    Adam felt comprehension war with disbelief. “What on earth does a TV star have to do with Dad? The last I heard of her, she was coming out of rehab, her series canceled, her finances trashed, and her career in ashes.”
    Clarice still looked down, a study in mute humiliation. “As you’ll remember,” Teddy responded, “every summer the Hollywood contingent graces us with their presence. Supposedly, this particular second-tier talent came to heal herself. Instead, she took refuge in the guesthouse at the Dane place, a convenient five-minute walk from here, then she found salvation in the arms of the Vineyard’s resident celebrity. Now she’s about to become the owner of this house, and everything that’s in it.”
    Turning to Clarice, Adam said, “How can that be, Mom? I thought this house was yours.”
    With effort, his mother looked up at him, a damp sheen in her eyes. “It would have been. But when my father went bankrupt, Ben bought it. As a favor to me, I thought.”
    “Who knew?” Teddy remarked. “All these years, bro, we lived here at his sufferance.”
    At once, Adam grasped the depth of his mother’s grief and betrayal. At the moment of her husband’s death, he had stripped her of everything—her past and her future. If nothing mattered to his father but his own desires, if years of loyalty and common enterprise were trifles to him, there was no way Clarice could compete with a woman barely older than Adam—an actress who, a mere two years ago, had been a stunning beauty, her aura so electric that she seemed to pop off the screen. The female embodiment of Ben Blaine’s self-concept, the ultimate mirror of his ego.
    In a rough voice, Adam said, “Long ago I found out that my father was a monster of selfishness. But this suggests I thought too well of him.” Stopping himself, he finished quietly, “You don’t deserve this, Mom.”
    Jack glanced at Clarice, his lined face graven with helplessness and frustration. Fighting back his anger, Adam realized that the will helped explain the interest of the state police in Ben’s wife and oldest son, his victims. If given a second chance, Adam would have killed his father without remorse. “Who knew about this will?” he asked.
    “Not me,” Teddy answered. “And certainly not Mom. Needless to say, Jack didn’t.”
    God, Adam wanted to say to his father, is there no end to you? Instead, he called upon the coldness of mind he had cultivated since leaving. “You said Pacelli gets most of the estate. Who gets the rest?”
    In his driest tone, Teddy said, “There’s a million for Jenny Leigh, of course. I believe that particular bequest says, ‘So she can live the writer’s life her talent deserves.’”
    Adam stared at him. “You’re joking.”
    “Just another act of beneficence. Apparently, our father had more regard for struggling writers than starving painters—”
    “It’s not Jenny’s fault,” Clarice interjected. “She’s as shocked by Ben as we were.”
    At this, Jack shut his eyes, as though to distance himself from the fresh hatred he felt for his brother. “Too bad for Jenny,” Adam told his mother, “because I don’t think Dad can do this to you. You have property rights in his estate.”
    Clarice folded her hands. With quiet dignity, she said, “I once did, Adam. But I signed them all away years ago.”
    Adam shook his head in wonder. “He made you sign a prenup?”
    “He didn’t make me do anything, Adam. I voluntarily signed a postnuptial agreement, giving up any claim to the income derived from Ben’s books.”
    “But that’s everything we have,” Adam protested. “This is Grandfather Barkley’s house—my father took it,