Ada was furious: "Damn you, Gerald Davis! That money was for Rachel's future!"

"So I made some bad investments -"

"You mean, you blew it all on slow horses!" she snorted, "You had no right to touch one cent of it!"

"We can always get more." Gerald shrugged.

"Oh? How? Are you going to get an honest job?"

"All you have to do is write to Sumner Kirkland and tell him he's got a daughter. Send along a picture of the kid; she looks just like him."

"So that's it!" said Ada, "You married me because you thought you'd be able to use Rachel to get money out of the Kirklands, forever. Well, that's not going to happen. Get out."

"What?"

"Pack your things and hit the road! You're a user, and a loser, and we're through!"

"Look who's talking!" said Gerald, "You used ME to give your bastard a name!"

"True enough," said Ada, "I certainly didn't marry you for love. But at least I tried to make our marriage work, which is more than you can say. Now go!"

****

Boston: "Mrs Kirkland? This is Gerald Davis."

"What do you want?" Caroline Kirkland's voice was icy.

"I just thought you'd like to know that Ada gave birth to a bouncing baby girl. She looks just like her father."

"What of it?"

"Babies need a lot of stuff. It costs money. That five thousand didn't last very long."

"So now you want more money, is that it?"

"I could always take the story to the tabloids -"

"No. Come to my home tomorrow, at 2 p.m."

When Gerald showed up, the police were waiting for him. He found himself under arrest, for extortion. It was the only time he ever saw Caroline Kirkland smile. Anxious to avoid a scandal, the Kirklands' lawyers arranged a deal: in return for a guilty plea - which avoided the necessity of a trial - Gerald would receive the minimum possible sentence under the law.

While he was in jail, Gerald received a present from Ada: divorce papers.

Actually, prison wasn't all bad; the contacts Gerald made there proved very useful in his later career.

Once he was free, Gerald drifted from one crooked scheme to another. Eventually, he settled down in Somerset Illinois, running a restaurant called The Riverboat, the main attraction of which was not the food, but the roulette wheel in the back room.

Then, one day: "Are you Gerald Davis?"

"That's me. If you're looking for work, we don't have any openings."

"I'm Rachel. I'm your daughter!"

Rachel! It had been twenty years, and Gerald had almost forgotten about her. Judging from the eager, puppydog look on her face, though, the feeling wasn't mutual.

As Rachel babbled about how she had tracked him down, and about her husband, the doctor, and her beautiful baby -"Jamie. James Gerald. I named him after you." - Gerald wondered how he was going to get rid of her. Finally, he cut her off in mid-sentence.

"Look, Rachel, I'm pretty busy today. Let's get together some other time."

"When?"

"Oh, feel free to drop in for a meal, any time you and your husband are in town. On the house."

Then he went into his office, shut the door, and stayed there until she left.

Time passed; Gerald received a tipoff that the police were going to raid his casino. Unless he wanted to go back to jail, it was time to relocate.

By now, Rachel's first husband had discovered that he was not the father of her son, and divorced her. She was married to Ted Clark, and the two of them were running a restaurant called The Fireside Inn, in Bay City. Gerald generously offered to give the young couple the benefit of his experience, and Rachel was only too delighted to accept. So was Ted, at first, until Gerald suggested setting up a casino.

"No way!" he said, "I've turned over a new leaf."

Gerald had found out about Ted's involvement with drug dealers, before his marriage, so he tipped off the police. Ted was arrested, and sentenced to several months in jail.

"The guy's a loser." Gerald told Rachel, "Scrape him off."

"Maybe you're right., Daddy." she said, "I married Ted to give Jamie a father; I didn't know he was a criminal."

"Why don't you marry Jamie's real father?"

"I'd love to! But he's already married - to her!"

She gestured towards a table where two attractive young women were having lunch.

"Which one?" said Gerald.

"The blonde. Alice Matthews. Look at her! She hasn't changed since we were in high school: Little Miss Perfect, Little Miss Cheerleader, Little Miss Class Valedictorian! I hated her even BEFORE she took Steve Frame away from me! But I'll get him back! I will! Just watch me!"

Gerald knew that Steve Frame was a very rich man; if Rachel married him, some of that wealth was bound to trickle down to her loving Daddy; Gerald would make sure of that.

Rachel's greatest asset in her pursuit of Steve Frame was their son, Jamie. Steve doted on the boy - especially since Alice wasn't able to have children. Rachel used this to manipulate Steve, insisting that she go along whenever he took Jamie out for the afternoon. Since Alice hated Rachel just as much as Rachel hated her, Steve didn't tell her about this, or about the private conferences Rachel insisted on having, to discuss their son's future.

One day, knowing that Steve and Rachel would be meeting at his office that evening, Gerald called the hospital, where Alice was a nurse. "I'd like to leave a message for Alice Frame." he said, "Ask her to pick her husband up at his office after work."

As Gerald had hoped she would, Alice arrived at Steve's office, and heard Rachel's voice. The effect was even more than he had dared to imagine: Alice leapt to the conclusion that Steve and Rachel were having a affair, and left town that very night, without a word to anybody!

After several months, Steve, angry and hurt that the woman he loved wouldn't even tell him WHY she had walked out on him, filed for divorce, and married Rachel. The expected financial windfall didn't come Gerald's way, however, so he left Bay City and moved to San Francisco. He was surprised when Steve Frame tracked him down there

"I've filed for divorce." he said.

"What does Rachel have to say about that?" said Gerald.

"She's contesting it."

"I'll bet she is!" said Gerald, "Rachel loves being Mrs Steve Frame!"

Steve's jaw clenched. "You can help me." he said, "I can divorce Rachel on the grounds of fraud, if you testify that it was Rachel who got you to call Alice, so that she'd see us together, and jump to the wrong conclusion."

"That was my idea." said Gerald, "Rachel didn't know anything about it."

"Would you have any problem with saying that she DID?"

"That depends on what's in it for me."

"Ten thousand dollars."

"For testifying against my own daughter? My darling little girl that I love so much?"

Steve looked as though he had just stepped in something disgusting. "I almost pity Rachel, having you for a father." he said, "Fifteen thousand."

"Steve, you just got yourself a witness!"

Gerald testified, (breaking Rachel's heart), and Steve got his divorce. However, when Steve's lawyer, John Randolph, found out about the perjury, he told the authorities, and Gerald found himself back behind bars - only this time, Steve Frame was there with him.

Once he was free, Gerald left Bay City, vowing never to return. He couldn't help being aware of the high points of Rachel's later career, however, since they were played out on the front pages of newspapers and magazines, over the years.

"I'd like to see Carl Hutchins."

The receptionist looked down her nose at the shabby senior citizen. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Tell him it's his father-in-law, Gerald Davis."

She murmured into the telephone. "Mr Hutchins will see you when he has a free moment." she said, "You can wait over there." She nodded towards a row of chairs.

Carl kept him waiting for nearly two hours. When they finally came face to face, Gerald was impressed, in spite of himself: Rachel's husband gave off an aura of power and authority. Gerald held out his hand. Carl ignored it.

"So." Carl said, "Gerald Davis - liar, thief, gambler, perjurer - what can I do for you?"

"Look who's talking!" Gerald retorted, "You haven't exactly been a Boy Scout yourself!"

"True." said Carl, "But even at my worst, I never deliberately betrayed my own flesh and blood, for money. Say what you have to say, then leave."

"I've reached an age where I want to retire, to someplace warm and sunny." Gerald said, "Phoenix, Arizona - Santa Fe, New Mexico -"

"Las Vegas, Nevada?" Carl suggested. "I take it you want me to finance your retirement. Why should I?"

"Because you don't want me to tell Rachel that I'm not her father. I made an honest woman of Ada when she got knocked up by a married man."

Carl laughed. "Rachel will be only too delighted to learn that she's no kin of yours!"

"Her real father was a Boston Brahmin named Sumner Lowell Kirkland. He had two other daughters : Maria Anna - and Justine."

From the look on Carl's face, Gerald knew that shot had hit the target. Obviously, Rachel had no suspicion that she and Justine were related, even though they looked so much alike. Equally obviously, Carl thought the news would upset her.

"How much money will it take to get you out of Rachel's life - forever?"

Gerald had been going to ask for twenty thousand dollars, but now he hesitated. Did he dare to ask for a million? His courage wasn't quite up to it. " Fifty thousand."

"I don't carry that much in my wallet." Carl said, "You'll have to come back later."

The next day: "Fifty thousand dollars." Carl handed over an attache case stuffed with cash. "Feel free to count it."

"I trust you." said Gerald, "You wouldn't cheat your kindly old father-in-law."

"Don't even think about coming back for more." said Carl, "I may have reformed, but I still have contacts. I doubt you'd be missed."

The look in Carl's eyes made Gerald's blood run cold, but he covered it with a laugh and jaunty tip of his hat, as he exited.

Gerald went to a bar to celebrate his good fortune.

"Drinks are on me!" he said, a few hours later, "I'm rich!"

"You've had enough." said the bartender, "If you want another drink, give me your car keys."

"The hell with that!" said Gerald, "I'm blowing this small-time burg!"

He staggered out to his car and drove out of town, weaving all over the road. He was two hours down the interstate from Bay City when he lost control of the car and went over the embankment, plunging fifty feet straight down onto rocks. The impact killed him instantly.

The attaché case full of money, blown clear of the crash, fell into the river and was carried away downstream on the current.

The Highway Patrolman who found Gerald summed it up: "Just another drunk driver."

Note: This story is dedicated to Lori, whose The Long Way Home inspired me to write my own version of Gerald Davis' fate.