Chapter 14
It was a subdued and bleary-eyed Maryann Baynum who opened the door the next morning when Perry Mason rang the bell. After a brief hesitation, she wordlessly stepped aside and allowed both he and Della to enter the house.
Attired in a man's flannel robe and with her black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, Maryann looked defeated and weary as she shuffled down the hallway to the parlor. She seemed older and smaller, dull and doughy, a far cry from the robustly healthy woman from the previous day. Her fingers waggled toward the settee listlessly. "You can sit there." She sighed. "I'm so tired. If you don't mind, I'm going to lie down." And she did just that, sliding her tall frame over the slick silk fabric and clutching a fringed pillow to her chest. "I love this couch," she said. "It's so pretty. Kay-Kay ruined the original upholstery when she was five, and Wade had it recovered as a surprise for my birthday last month. I guess he used the money he got from that woman."
"Kay-Kay is your daughter?" Della asked. She had seated herself on the settee and removed a steno pad and pencils from her purse out of habit. She had no earthly idea what Perry was going to say to Maryann or if he even wanted her to take notes. He hadn't been particularly keen to discuss the meeting with her last night after returning to the hotel room from dinner. Instead, he'd slowly removed the white sundress while his exquisitely tender mouth explored every inch of her trembling body, bringing her almost more pleasure than she could endure. Yes, Maryann. Yes.
Maryann rested her head on three stacked pillows and took in Della's effortlessly elegant appearance, the simple yellow shirtwaist dress, the understated but expensive gold jewelry, the confidence in her carriage. "That's what Wade called her," Maryann said by way of answering, still openly appraising Della's appearance. "He hated Persephone. Kay is her middle name, after our younger sister."
"Where is Kay-Kay?" Perry Mason entered the conversation.
"I told her to stay upstairs out of everyone's way. She doesn't need to know her uncle was no good."
"What makes you say that?"
"He sold my life story to that woman, didn't he? And he was blackmailing you, wasn't he? Using me and Kay-Kay to threaten you and the lovely Miss Street?"
"He did give an interview about you and me and Kay-Kay to a scandal sheet called Spicy Bits," Perry replied, carefully choosing his words. "And he did send a few letters demanding certain things from me or the interview would be published."
"I know what he did. He wanted you to admit being married to me and to being Kay-Kay's father," Maryann said matter-of-factly.
"Except that I'm not Kay-Kay's father and the marriage was annulled on the grounds of deceit," Perry reminded her. His voice was level, emotionless.
"Kay-Kay is your child, Perry," Maryann replied stiffly.
"Maryann, stop it. You really don't want to drag the past out for everyone to read about. I'm fairly well-known now and – "
"And I was your wife and I haven't gotten a damn thing out of your success! You buy your secretary expensive jewelry and take her on around-the-world cruises – I told you I know all about you! – but you'll allow your wife's house to crumble around her and your daughter to go through life illegitimate." Bitterness dripped from every word she spoke. "Wade was a failure at everything he did. He squandered all the money our parents left us gambling and investing in ventures that had no hope of succeeding. He couldn't hold a job for more than a couple of months, and in the last five years didn't work at all. If Bert hadn't let me do his books for him after Madge retired, we'd have starved a long time ago. Can you possibly imagine how I must have felt all these years reading about your success and knowing that I would never benefit from it?"
"Maryann, legally we were never married. You aren't entitled to anything from me because I would never have married you if you hadn't claimed your child was mine. "
"She is yours," Maryann whispered desperately.
"She is not mine. If for one minute I'd believed her to be mine, I would have supported her all these years."
"She is yours," Maryann repeated in the same urgent whisper. She met Perry Mason's hard stare imploringly.
The doorbell rang. Della jumped. Perry Mason and Maryann Baynum remained motionless.
"Answer the door please, Della," Perry requested, not taking his eyes from Maryann. "It's probably Tragg. I figured we wouldn't beat him by much."
Della stood wordlessly and walked without haste from the parlor to the hallway.
"Maryann, you have to stop claiming that I'm your daughter's father, and refute Wade's interview so that it won't be published. There is no reason to hurt innocent people."
"You mean it will hurt you and your precious reputation," she spat, "Still selfish as ever, Perry. All you care about is yourself."
He shook his head. "If I only cared about myself," he said with steel in his voice, "I would crush you in a very public lawsuit. But I have Della to think about, and you have your daughter to think about. Neither one of them deserves to be hurt because you've been holding a grudge against me all these years. You have to admit I'm not your daughter's father."
"You are," she insisted, desperation still strangling her voice. "You have to be." A flicker of panic touched her eyes.
Perry blinked with sudden insight and leaned forward, a sick feeling in his stomach. He was almost afraid of the course his thoughts had taken. "Maryann, was Wade the father?"
Maryann stiffened. "No! No. You're the father."
"Maryann," his voice was like a gunshot, quick and loud. "Tell the truth. Was Wade your daughter's father?"
"You're her father."
"You really don't want to go up against me in court, Maryann. What I'll do to you is a hundred times worse than what Wade's interview will do to me. Tell the truth. Was Wade your daughter's father?"
Maryann Baynum stared directly into Perry Mason's cold, hard eyes. He was so different from the unformed, naïve young man she had known, overpoweringly masculine and self-assured, his attractiveness heightened by maturity. Her claim on him was tenuous at best, morally reprehensible, legally expunged, irrationally sustained. He thought he could crush her, but what he didn't realize was that she had been crushed long ago.
"Yes," she said clearly, strongly. "Yes, Wade was Kay-Kay's father."
From the doorway, Della let out a horrified gasp, clapped one hand over her mouth and reached out to Tragg to steady herself.
Maryann Baynum sat regally tall on her pretty couch. She swiveled her head slowly toward Della, who had gone sickly pale. Her eyes were empty of emotion. "Oh, don't swoon, Princess," she said calmly, "Wade was my step-brother."