The Darkness of Sable

by Faith Bicknell

  He gestured in an unconcerned manner, the pipe cupped in his hand weaving a line of blue-white smoke in the air around him. “I have someone covering for me if she calls my office line, and should she call my cell, she’ll think I’m in Alabama where I said I’d be.”

  “My my, aren’t you the schemer.”

  He turned the amps up on his smile and walked toward her. “Aw, come on, Sable. Aren’t you the least little bit happy to see me?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a tiny bit?”

  “Why are you here, Hal?”

  He paused, his gaze roving over her robe-clad body. “Have you started fucking your agent yet?”

  “HAL!” She struggled not to scream at him and asked more calmly, “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  He smirked at her, turned back to the plate-glass doors, put the pipe’s mouthpiece between his lips, and toked on it.

  Sable recognized the sound she’d first thought was breathing, a habit of his she’d forgotten the longer she was away from him.

  “What happened to the vanilla tobacco you always smoked?” she asked. Frustrated with herself and her ex, she strode over to the vanity and sat on the tiny bench. She studied him in the mirror.

  “Jacquelyn likes the aroma of cherries better, so I switched,” he replied, never taking his gaze off the city skyline.

  Sable pulled the towel from her head and picked up a comb. Jacquelyn the Queen Bitch. She sighed. Even hundreds of miles away from her, the woman still ruled Hal with an iron fist. Sable had always believed marriage should be a fifty-fifty relationship. What had happened to Hal to change him so much?

  Despite their differences during their marriage, and afterward their divorce, she and Hal had always respected one another’s choices—and the first ten years or so of their union had been wonderful. However, once Sable’s career took off, and later when her fame had traveled all over the world, Hal had found her success threatening and insulting, especially when he had the archaic notion that a man should always be the main breadwinner. And when her parents had passed and Cheyenne had run away, his patience for anyone or anything had evaporated.

  She turned on the seat, a big-toothed comb in her hand, and continued working the knots from her wet hair as she watched him stare out the glass doors. “Why are you really here, Hal?” she asked, her patience dissolving.

  He didn’t look at her. Pipe smoke plumed around his head. “Your phone call brought me here.”

  “My…?” She set the comb down on the vanity. “After the way you spoke to me on the phone, you have the nerve to fly down here to—”

  “I got to thinking about what you said,” he muttered around the pipe stem clasped between his lips.

  Sable strained to hear him. Memories surfaced, and she remembered his habit of talking around a pipe had always irritated her.

  He shrugged and said, “You sounded different this time…like you were serious.”

  “I’m always serious when I talk about our daughter,” she ground out. She didn’t like the sarcasm in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. There were times such devices were lost on Hal, so she could use as much acid in her tone as she chose to no avail, but at least it helped relieve some of her hostility toward him. “I should call security and have you thrown out on your ass.”

  He glanced at her. “You probably should, and you’d certainly be well within your rights to do so, but hear me out.”

  “Like you heard me out?”

  Nodding, he said, “I deserve that.” Weariness seemed to settle over him. His shoulders slumped, his gaze distant. “I miss Cheyenne. We’ve gone so long without any clues, without any hope whatsoever of ever finding her, then you call with the news that you actually saw her, and I felt not only a bit of hope but…jealousy.”

  She frowned. “Jealousy?”

  “You found her first.”

  “Oh, Lord! We’re back to that again?” Furious, Sable considered throwing something at Hal but feared it would shatter the glass in front of him. “It’s always you who has to make the most money, have the most fame, be the first to do something, hear about something—even the first to find our daughter!”

  “I can’t help it,” he replied quietly and blew out a stream of smoke. “It’s just the way I am. You know my dad—”

  “Was from the Old Country and believed a man should be lord over his household and all its affairs,” she recited his faithful excuse. “And it’s a load of shit.”

  He shrugged again and said nothing.

  “So you’re here to…?”

  “I want you to tell me what happened today, what you know about Cheyenne’s whereabouts, what she’s been doing the past five years.” He placed his pipe on the desk and made his way to her. “I want to gaze into your eyes while you tell me what’s going on.”

  Disconcerted, Sable resumed combing her hair to keep her trembling hands busy. It was all too much to handle—he was too much to handle—especially after the last forty-eight hours. “You still have doubts, don’t you? You can’t shake the idea I might be lying to you.”

  Hal stopped a couple of feet from her chair. “How does our daughter look? Is she healthy? Tell me, Sable.”

  She turned and focused on her reflection in the mirror as she worked the knots and snarls from her tresses. Sable relayed how she’d left the hair salon and contemplated a bit of shopping when Cheyenne had walked out of a nearby store. Slowly, she told Hal what happened and how she’d blundered out into traffic, and ended with the news that a colleague was discreetly sending out feelers for Cheyenne’s whereabouts. Finished with her story and her hair, Sable placed the comb back into her makeup box and regarded her ex-husband in the mirror as he stood behind her, his gaze unwavering.

  “And that’s all that I know, Hal,” she said. “If you had exercised a shred of patience today, I could have told you all this on the phone, saving you this trip to Naples.”

  “It gave me a good excuse to get away from Jacquelyn for a while,” he said bluntly.

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Trouble in paradise already?”

  “No, but she wears my patience to nothing.”

  A guffaw burst from her. “Hell, I had no idea you ever had any patience.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve missed you, Sable. Seeing you now makes me realize how much.”

  She met his gaze in the mirror. Blue as the waters of the Bahamas, Hal’s eyes had always melted her resolve, but those same eyes could turn into ice chips if he felt thwarted, deceived, or belittled. Now, he studied her with a wistful smile, the dimple in the lower part of his left cheek deepening, his eyes aglow with the soft light of fondness.

  Oh, hell no. She didn’t need this now, not from Hal, not after tonight.

  Sable glanced away and rose, turning toward the closet. “If you don’t mind, I need to get ready for bed. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

  “I didn’t…uh…I haven’t…”

  Suspicion stirred in Sable’s brain. She paused halfway to the closet and sat on the foot of the bed. “You didn’t book a room anywhere, did you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Oh, Hal.” The sigh that escaped her could have rivaled hurricane winds. “Why do you do things like this to me? Why couldn’t you have booked a room somewhere before showing up here?”

  “My only thought was coming here and talking to you.” He held both hands out to his sides. “Let me camp out on the sofa, and I’ll find a room first thing tomorrow.”

  She said nothing, indecision playing ping-pong with her sympathetic side.

  “Unless your agent might protest,” he said. “It’s difficult to fuck with an ex-husband in the same room.”

  Instantly pissed, she struggled not to cuss him. She drew in a deep breath then let it out in a rush. If she let him rile her, he’d continue to do so the rest of the night.

  Hal offered her a hopeful expression.

  “I don’t answer to a man anymore,” she replied, her tone icy
. “You can stay here, but only for tonight, and you will sleep on the sofa.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “About the sofa? Yes.”

  He favored her with a wicked smile.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said before he could utter some sort of innuendo. She spotted his small suitcase by the door. He’d probably planned out the entire scenario, but why? She’d love to slap him so hard he landed on his front lawn in Ohio. Disconcerted and frustrated beyond words, Sable grabbed an extra blanket and pillow from the closet and tossed them across the room to him. She found a clean nightgown and strode to the bathroom.

  “I’m going to bed in a couple of minutes,” she said as she passed the couch. “If you want to watch TV, please keep the sound down.”

  “No, I’m beat.” Hal retrieved his suitcase and unzipped it on the coffee table. “I’m going to change and then crash.”

  Sable nodded and shut the bathroom door behind her. “The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner morning will be here, and the sooner he goes back to Ohio,” she mumbled to herself. At least her headache had gone away. Well, unless she counted Hal. There was always more to him than he let on. Beneath his cool, calm exterior lurked a purpose or ulterior motive. She’d known him too long. Where there was smoke, there was fire.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jealousy

  “R oom service!”

  “Coming!” Thomas called through the open door of his room.

  He entered Sable’s suite and hurried to let the attendant enter. He glanced at Sable, who blinked sleepily. Thomas paused before opening the door. It was necessary to be even more careful now. Without a peephole to see into the hall, he cracked the door open a couple of inches and peered out.

  “Morning, sir,” the young man with the cart said.

  Thomas let the door swing wide, and the attendant pushed the serving table into the suite. Handing him a greenback from his wallet, Thomas thanked him and shut the door. He grasped the cart’s handle and faced Sable. She sat looking at the sunshine streaming through the balcony doors.

  “Morning, Sable.” Thomas wheeled their breakfast into the living area. He favored her with a bright smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  She groaned. “Sore from the accident. I bet I have bruises everywhere.”

  His gaze landed on the sofa and its occupant, moved to the suitcase splayed open on the floor nearby, and back to the figure sleeping beneath the white blanket. A masculine hand poked out from under the cover.

  What the hell is this? A strong sense of possessiveness blasted through Thomas. Oh, hell no! She did not bring a man home with her last night…or did she? He gulped. He couldn’t show his true feelings. If I find out he touched her, I’ll rip his fucking head off.

  “Uh…did I…uh, interrupt—?”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything, Thomas,” she said, sleepiness still in her voice. She flung the covers back and reached for her robe. “That’s Hal.”

  Hal mumbled something and pulled the blanket off of his head. He sat up, yawned.

  Somewhat relieved, Thomas eyed her ex-husband with distasted. Maybe I’ll rip the bastard’s head off anyway. He cleared his throat and removed the lids from the breakfast dishes.

  “What is he doing here?” Thomas asked. He shot a disgusted look toward Hal as the man made his way to the bathroom, his pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, his chest bare.

  Sable shook her head, but once the bathroom door shut, she quickly explained Hal’s presence. “I got in really late last night, and he was already here waiting on me,” she said, lowering her voice. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Make him find a room,” Thomas angrily whispered back. He manhandled his emotions into something less hostile. Sable couldn’t know that he felt threatened by her ex.

  She blinked quizzically. “He’s Cheyenne’s father—”

  “I know. I get it, Sable.” Thomas held one hand up to silence her. “But that guy will be nothing but trouble while he’s here.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” she shot back, irritation in her eyes.

  The bathroom door opened. “So,” Hal said, a big grin on his beard-stubbled face, “what’s for breakfast, Tony?”

  “It’s Thomas,” he replied, his tone cold. Anger flowed through Thomas’s body, and he struggled not to snap a plate in two. “And had I known you were going to just show up, I might’ve included you.”

  “He can have what you ordered for me,” Sable said, obviously trying to avoid a strained exchange. She wandered across the suite with a grimace.

  Thomas could only imagine how sore and stiff she was from the accident.

  “I’ll order something else,” she added, “and have it sent up.”

  “No, no.” Hal held up both hands and padded over to his suitcase. “Like I promised, I’ll see if there’s a vacant room—preferably here—and if not, I’ll find one somewhere, then I’ll have breakfast at that seaside café I saw up the street.” He picked up his things and turned back to the bathroom. “Just give me a few minutes to shower, shave, and dress, then I’ll be out of your hair and you two lovebirds can enjoy your meal in peace.”

  The door shut soundly behind him.

  Thomas’s anger turned to fury. “Lovebirds?” He glowered at Sable.

  She shrugged. “Hal has always felt threatened by you for some reason.”

  “What the hell’s gotten into him?” Thomas asked. He poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Sable. He focused on keeping his hand from trembling. All he could think about was grabbing the jerk by the throat and tossing him off the balcony. “Why is he here? Did something happen to Cheyenne that you haven’t told me about yet?”

  “No, and just ignore him,” she replied, cradling the mug in her hands. “He says he needed to talk to me about Cheyenne in person and look in my eyes as I told him about what happened yesterday.” She sighed. “You know Hal’s a pro at pissing people off, Thomas. He threw a few barbs at me last night, too, but if you just let them slide, he’ll get bored with the game.”

  “I knew there was more than one reason I detested that man.” Thomas set plates of muffins, fruit, and pancakes on the coffee table. He sat in the chair opposite the sofa, forced a smile to his lips, and asked, “So where did you and The Golden go last night?”

  Color surged into Sable’s face. At red settling in her cheeks, Thomas tried to force the dread from his heart. The coffee he’d just swallowed turned into a molten ball of lead. Maybe she’d met someone after all.

  She drew in a long, deep breath. “It was a new-age bar. Not my scene, really, but I stayed long enough not to be rude.” She averted her gaze.

  She’s lying to me, but why? Thomas offered her a nonchalant look and quirked an eyebrow. He couldn’t let her see he was jealous.

  Sable reached for the decanter of syrup. “Goldie said she’d ask around and see if anyone had any information about Cheyenne. She had her driver bring me back to the hotel—which reminds me. Have you noticed a big, black shaggy dog by the hotel entrance?”

  Her question caught Thomas off guard. He shifted into marshal mode. “A big black dog? No, why?”

  “No reason, really. I’ve just seen it a couple of times now, and Goldie’s driver also saw it last night. It was hanging around in front of the hotel entrance, so I wondered why someone hasn’t called animal control. A stray dog might be dangerous.”

  “I’ll mention it at the desk, if you like,” he replied.

  “Thanks.”

  “Yasmine loves your work,” Thomas said around a mouthful of blueberry muffin.

  At the mention of the Sex Goddess’ name, an annoyed expression settled over her face. “That’s nice.”

  “She said that although one of your pieces is a bit out of her price range, she knows a couple of collectors who are dying to get their hands on some of your work.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “I thought you’d be more excited.” He watched her carefully
. Could she be jealous of Yasmine? The thought pleased him. He glanced at the bathroom where Hal was dressing. If Yasmine threatened Sable, then maybe he didn’t have to worry about Hal’s presence here after all. Mentally, he shoved the thoughts away. He couldn’t get involved with Sable, especially if he didn’t want to be stripped of his job and powers before he was ready.

  “I am excited,” Sable stated.

  “You don’t sound like it.”

  She sighed. “What do you want me to do? Cartwheels?”

  Thomas drew in a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. “What’s eating at you, and why do she always have to be so difficult?

  Sable winced and set her cup on the table. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her voice. “Hal has me on edge.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Thomas replied. He’d been so wrapped up with jealousy at Hal’s presence he’d forgotten how much Hal often upset and pissed Sable off. “I should’ve waited until after he left to discuss business with you. I know how Hal makes you crazy. Hell, he makes me crazy.”

  She tittered softly, and they smiled at each other. By all the magic of the worlds, she’s beautiful. Why did it take me so long to see it? When did things change between us?

  Her face flushed, and she looked away.

  “Something wrong?” Thomas asked. Worry replaced his musings.

  “No, I’m fine.” Sable picked up an apple slice. “So, what did you get into after last night’s gala?”

  She chewed her apple, her expression inquisitive, yet he detected jealousy in her eyes. “Did you two find a nice coffee shop?” she asked.

  So, she was jealous of Yasmine. He smiled wider. “Yes, we did, and Yasmine and I talked until two a.m. when the café closed.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Mmm?”

  She frowned.

  “What’s eating at you?” he questioned. If he could get her to admit that Yasmine threatened her, he—what was he thinking? Damn it, focus on the case!

  “Nothing is eating at me.”

  Sable’s annoyed and somewhat worried expression gave her away. She wanted him. Thomas felt it in his gut, and the kiss they’d shared had been anything but chaste. She sat back with her coffee cup and crossed her legs, her robe falling open to reveal them.