“Yes.” Martha looked at Bailey. “Luke was always terrified that you would leave him. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” Bailey said softly, then her eyes filled with tears. “I killed him.”
At that Matt looked at her sharply, but Bailey kept her eyes on Martha.
“No, you didn’t,” Martha said, and when Bailey started to speak, she raised her hand. “Before you tell me that I don’t know the whole story, let me assure you that I do. Three nights before he died, Luke called me and told me that you’d asked him for a divorce.”
Matt moved his hand across the couch and clasped Bailey’s hand.
“But Luke wasn’t despondent over it,” Martha said. “He was elated.”
“Elated?” Bailey said. “He wanted a divorce?”
“No. He was elated that you’d finally put your foot down. Luke used to tell me that you didn’t love him enough to be jealous.”
At that Bailey had to get up. She walked to the window and, for a moment, gazed at the beautiful grounds that surrounded the rest home; then she looked back at Martha. “Jealous? He thought I wasn’t jealous of all those tall, skinny, beautiful women?”
“They meant nothing to him,” Martha said softly.
“They meant a lot to me!” Bailey said, then calmed herself. “Was he going to give me a divorce?”
“No, of course not,” Martha said, smiling. “He was going to court you. He said it was something he owed you. Do you know where he was going when his plane crashed?”
“No. Business. Jimmie was always visiting the places he owned.” Her voice lowered. “Like this one.”
Martha smiled. “Isn’t it lovely? When Luke was a child, and he and I were alone in that horrible old cabin, we used to make up stories about what we’d buy if we had all the money in the world. Frank saw to it that we had TV, books, and magazines, so Luke and I knew what was available in the world, even if we couldn’t have it.”
“And what did you two wish for?” Matt asked.
“I just wanted normal things, like a house with an indoor toilet, but Luke wanted to own the world. ‘And I’d give it all to you and my dad,’ Luke said. He adored his father.”
Bailey looked at Martha. “Where was Jimmie going the day he died?”
“You really didn’t know? He didn’t so much as hint?”
“No,” Bailey said. “I was very depressed at the time. I was tired of everything, all the moving around, all the people who despised me, and all of Jimmie’s women.” She said the last with anger in her voice.
“But what was it that you wanted more than life itself?” Martha asked.
“I . . . I don’t know,” Bailey said, puzzled.
Martha looked at Matt. “What does she want?”
“Kids,” he said. “She gets real gooey every time she looks at one.”
Bailey looked at Matt in astonishment. “I do no such thing.”
“What about those twins you saw at the grocery store?”
“Those were exceptionally cute babies,” Bailey said defensively. “And I—”
Martha’s words cut her off. “He’s right. Children. Luke wasn’t about to have his own child and risk it inheriting his lip, so he arranged a private adoption.”
At that Bailey sat back down on the couch beside Matt. “Adoption?” she whispered.
“Yes. You know how Luke was. He arranged it all in just a few days, and he was flying to some state out West to pick up the child. He meant to surprise you.”
“Put it in a box and wrap it up?” Matt said, sarcastically.