by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
By the time Adam returned from the hotel, David had already changed his clothes, removed his fake beard and scrubbed the theatrical wrinkles off his face. He looked just like himself again.
Adam had been forced to remain at the bank even after the doctor arrived to help the old man. By that time, however, the old timer was feeling much more himself. Speaking with a slight German accent, he insisted that it was merely a case of asthma, not a coronary. In the end he even refused the doctor’s services and, after profusely thanking everyone, shuffled out of the bank without further assistance. No one seemed to notice that he never completed any transactions.
That brought the young bank officer back to his desk. Adam was forced to spend the next hour with him, pouring over the Cartwrights’ deposits. They did not find the missing one—which was no surprise to Adam, since he was well aware that it had never been made. That two hundred dollar check was sitting at home on the Ponderosa in his Pa’s safe.
Nonetheless, Adam had to give the young man credit. He never criticized Adam for not having a receipt on hand and he handled the matter as tactfully as possible. In the end, Adam promised to wire his father just to take a look in the safe—perhaps he had not deposited that check after all.
“Did you get a look at the accounts?” David demanded, jolting Adam’s mind back to the present.
Adam nodded. “Miller made two deposits of five hundred dollars—and each was made a week after Stephen withdrew the money from his account.”
David smiled wryly. “I don’t believe in coincidences—do you?”
“No,” he agreed. “I think it’s safe to assume that Miller is our blackmailer.”
Adam paused and narrowed his eyes at David. “That was an impressive performance,” he said at length.
David grinned and bowed. “Thank you. I have my moments.”
Adam leaned back against the wall and cocked his head at him. “What makes you think that you’re only a decent actor? You were thoroughly convincing.”
David sighed and took a seat on the bed. “Have you ever seen my mother perform?”
“Once—I saw her in the role of Lady Macbeth.”
“And what did you think?”
“She was brilliant,” Adam owned. “She brought Lady Macbeth’s frustration to the surface. She combined the character’s raw mixture of ambition and guilt in such a way that I almost felt sorry for her—sorry that she hadn’t been born a man who could grasp power for herself without having to manipulate a husband. I haven’t looked at Lady Macbeth the same way since.”
David smiled. “That’s my mother’s genius. She can take a character and breathe new life into her. It’s a gift I don’t have—my talent is for imitation. I can mimic what I see, but I can’t bring out an aspect of a character that you’ve never seen before.”
He paused as he stood up and began to pace the room. “I don’t mind the stage,” he continued at last. “There’s a place for good imitations, after all. But everyone would compare me unfavorably to my mother’s genius—and that would be intolerable.”
He paused again as he stopped pacing. “Besides, I don’t miss the theatre,” he said at length. “I liked it well enough when I used to be given some child’s part or other—but it’s not in my blood. It’s no more than a hobby to me. It’s not my life’s work.”
Adam smiled at that. “Does your mother understand that you’d rather spend your time puzzling out a chess problem than rehearsing for a performance?”
David laughed. “No—she’s never understood the appeal of mere games like chess and whist. Or the appeal of balancing accounts, which I enjoy immensely. Really, if it weren’t for my romantic inclinations I’d be distressingly bourgeois.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you,” Adam said with a reassuring wink. “'Bourgeois' isn’t the first word I’d pick to describe you.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” David owned. “Now, back to business. Shall we go see Marty?”
Adam nodded. “Yes—there’s no point in putting it off any longer.”
LINK TO PART FORTY-FOUR
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