by Lara Wynter
Jasper finishes his set before sitting up and wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel, which he then slings around his neck.
“You were right. She knows him,” Jasper says, wasting no time on small talk.
So we were right about Maggie being involved with Rudy Gadsden somehow. “Do you know any more details?”
“Nothing overly helpful. But now that I know we’re not wasting our time, I can dig a little deeper.”
I nod. “Anything I can do yet?” I’m desperate to be able to do something helpful, but so far, the most useful thing I can do is to act like nothing's wrong.
Jasper shakes his head. “Not yet. But trust me. If Maggie reports to our friend that you aren’t pining over Willow, it will be that much better for her.”
“Are you certain that’s the best way to play it? I practically begged Rudy not to take Willow with him.”
“If Gadsden is as messed up in the head as I think he is, then he won’t have a problem believing you’ve moved on already.”
“Right. I know you’re right, but I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.” I keep my body moving on the rowing machine. It’s a struggle just to keep my pace steady and not increase my speed to vent my frustration. “I’m worried I’m not being as convincing as I should be. My playing and vocals have been more of a struggle.”
“I’m not too worried about that. Maggie doesn’t go into the studio while you’re recording and everyone involved has been around the band before, haven’t they?”
“Everyone except Edgar. He works for Horsham House, for Maggie, I guess. He works with all the bands that come here.”
Jasper frowns. “Hmm, that’s an oversight on my part. I just assumed he came with the band. I’ll check him out.” He reaches both arms behind him in a shoulder stretch. “Has he asked anything out of the ordinary? Done anything to make you suspicious?’
I come to a stop on the machine as I think back. “Nothing comes to mind. I’ll ask the other guys, but he’s pretty professional. He doesn’t try and socialize with us or ask personal questions. If anything, I’d say he’s a bit of a workaholic.”
Rudy nods. His brow furrows, a sure sign his brain is analyzing everything. I begin moving on the rowing machine again. May as well get out some of my frustration while I wait for Jasper to think things through. Willow’s face fills my mind. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. The way she coped with finding out about all the horrors of her past was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Even when she tried to push me away, it was always more about protecting me than letting herself do what she wanted. Knowing the woman I’m in love with could be in mortal danger at this very moment fills my heart with dread. I’m barely holding myself together. The edges of my mind feel like they are being constantly rubbed with coarse sandpaper.
How do I keep up this pretense of being okay when my heart is hurting so much I just want to explode? My only saving grace is that the press aren’t allowed to come close. The sort of questions the paparazzi ask are designed to get an explosive response. And they still know nothing about Willow. But I know in my heart that this can’t go on much longer. If Jasper doesn’t find some answers soon, I will need to do something or go crazy.
Jasper’s gaze shifts to me. “I do have one lead I want to check out. It’s not much, but I need to do it, anyway.”
I stop rowing and my posture stiffens. “I want to come. Scrap that. I need to come.”
Jasper steeples his fingers and brings them up to his mouth. No doubt thinking through all the possible consequences of me accompanying him. “You’d have to stay out of sight if we see anyone and agree to do anything I tell you with no hesitation.”
I nod and stand up. “Done.”
“Shower and meet me downstairs in twenty. Wear something inconspicuous.”
I grin. “Yes, boss.”
I bolt from the gym and shower in record time. Throwing on a pair of faded black jeans and a gray sweater, I look pretty bland. I’m ready in under ten minutes. I pull on a pair of scuffed farm boots and a ball cap, and I’m ready. Flying back down the stairs, I see Jasper already waiting for me, looking freshly showered and wearing nondescript clothing.
“Good timing. Let’s go.”
I follow Jasper to the Audi, but he walks right past it, coming to a halt in front of an old beat-up silver Corolla.
I get into the front passenger seat. “Where did this come from?”
Jasper starts the engine. It purrs to life, mocking the rough exterior. “I bought it for reconnaissance. The Audi gets too much notice in some places.”
“Good idea. Where are we headed?”
Jasper drives through the gates, nodding at the security guard on duty. “I found out the exact location Willow was found unconscious. I know it’s a long shot that we’ll find anything after all this time, but I still want to check it out.”
“We know it’s near the lockers where she stashed Gadsden’s gun. Perhaps we can find something out there?”
Jasper turns onto the highway. “Good thinking. You know her better than anyone. I knew there was a reason I wanted you along.”
I almost laugh at that. Almost, but I’m too worried to find much amusing these days. When this is all over and I have Willow safely back in my arms, then I’ll be free to have joy in my life again. I drift into melancholy thoughts as we drive through the busy, early evening traffic.
This area is a mash-up of residential housing, businesses, and industrial sites. I have a vague memory that it’s one of the more dangerous areas of the city. The thought of Willow alone here at night is not a pleasant one. What if she’s in danger now? I close my eyes and focus on taking a few deep calming breaths before my mind goes down that path. I can’t afford to think like that. I have to believe she’s okay.
Jasper pulls onto a quiet street with a few boarded-up buildings and dirty alleyways and stops. We get out and I follow him toward a bridge underpass. Jasper glances around as he walks, taking everything in. He stops and studies the ground. I look down, but it just looks like dirty pavement to me.
“It was here?” I ask.
“Uh, huh.” Jasper bends down and looks closely at the ground.
“What is it?”
“Just the hint of old blood residue.” He touches the ground. “No way to be positive it’s Willow’s, but this is where she was found. Most of the blood would have washed away in the rain.”
Even though we still don’t know exactly what happened that night, my mind conjures up a scene. It plays in my head like a movie.
Willow hurries through the rain in the dark. The streetlamps are out and her slim form is barely visible. She has the hood of her jacket up, obscuring her vision even more. A dark figure leaps from the shadows of the building and hits her over the head. She falls to the ground and lies still, blood dripping down her face from a gash on her forehead. The figure searches through her pockets, looking for something. Money? A weapon?
Was her attack just random, or did someone know that she’d found the gun that could put Rudy in prison for life?
“Joss,” Jasper snaps. “Let’s go.”
I blink and look up. “Sorry. Overactive imagination got the best of me.” I jog along beside Jasper. “Where to now?”
“According to my research, there are some small storage lockers available for rent down near the marina.”
We follow the road along the river for several minutes before we come to the marina. I follow Jasper into an old building. Part of the building’s interior has been locked off for the night behind steel gates. But toward the rear of the building, there are indeed some old partly rusted storage lockers. Most likely used by the people who have boats docked here. The place is unassuming. It’s unlikely it’s much of a target for vandalism, as no one in their right mind would leave something valuable here. No one except a young woman desperate to escape from a dangerous madman.
“You think this is the place?” I ask Jasper, avoiding any mention of the
gun. The place seems deserted, but Jasper has taught me to be cautious about saying anything I don’t need to.
Jasper studies the two rows of lockers carefully. Most have locks of various sorts. Only one or two are free, their doors partially open.
“I do. Did she ever mention any details about this place?”
I shake my head. “We never had a chance to really talk about it, unfortunately. I wish I knew for sure which one was hers. We could at least leave her a message in case she manages to get away from Gadsden and make her way here.” I press my hand on the locker in front of me. The paint is scratched and pitted with spots of rust, but the lock is relatively new. I rest my forehead against the cool metal.
Oh, Willow. I feel closer to you here than I have since you left. I really hope you're doing alright. Are you safe? Are you cold and lonely? When I have you safe in my arms again, I’m never letting you go. You are the missing part of me that my soul longs to be close to. Together we can make a beautiful, wonderful life. I have to believe it’s going to happen. I have to believe in finding forever with you.
I stand back and blink the moisture from my eyes.
Jasper moves to the end of the row. “Can you keep watch? I’m going to try to pick the locks so we can find the gun — if it’s here. That way, if Gadsden finds out about the gun and forces Willow to take him here, she’ll be safe. The trail will lead right back to us.”
“Can do. Do you have somewhere safe in mind that we can keep it ourselves?”
“I do. But let's worry about finding it first.”
I nod and turn my back on Jasper so I can keep an eye out for anyone coming.
Chapter Six
Willow
I clench my hands in my lap as the car speeds down the road toward the bay. The interior of the car carries the cloying smell of old smoke. I take another shallow breath and glance back at Leo in the backseat. His knees are bent at an odd angle due to his height. I smother a laugh. I would have happily sat in the back seat, but Vance insisted I sit beside him.
Vance glances at me. “You’re going to love this place.” He smiles smugly, as if he is offering me a real treat. His dull, brown hair is slicked back off his head in the same fashion Rudy favors.
If he thinks copying Rudy will do him any favors, he’s gravely mistaken.
“You should respond when someone is talking to you, Willow,” Vance chastises.
“Sorry,” I bow my head. “Of course I’m looking forward to it. Thank you for inviting me out.” I struggle to keep my face neutral. I really hope I can escape eating more raw, slimy fish.
Vance reaches out his hand and clutches mine. His palm is at least dry and, thankfully, not sweaty. “I know Rudy’s kept you quite isolated, but when you’re mine, that will all change. I’ll take you out a lot more.” He gives my hand a squeeze.
What! My heart thuds painfully against my ribs. I cannot be his. I will not trade one creepy jailer for another.
“What do you mean?” I squeak out.
“Oh, sorry.” He throws a concerned glance my way. “It was supposed to be a surprise. Rudy’s given his blessing.”
I bite my lip, trying to get control over my emotions. Vance can’t know how abhorrent I find this whole idea. He can’t know that I’m in love with someone else. My whole life depends on it. I breathe deeply in through my nose and release the air slowly through my mouth.
“What exactly has Rudy given his blessing to?” I manage to keep my voice relatively steady. I pray Vance doesn’t notice anything amiss.
Vance brings my hand up to his lips and smothers it in a slimy kiss that sends a shudder right through me.
He smiles as if he thinks my body’s reaction is one of pleasure and not revulsion. “Why you’re to be my wife, of course.”
I reflexively jerk my hand away.
He smiles as he drives. His eyes blessedly remain on the road and the traffic. “I’m sorry to ruin the surprise. I had a whole thing planned for at the restaurant.” Vance shrugs his shoulders, making his suit jacket bunch around his bull-neck. “Never mind we can still go ahead and you can pretend to be delightedly surprised.”
Bile rises in my throat, and I barely manage to hold it inside. I nod several times. “I’ll try to forget this conversation ever happened.”
Vance squeezes my thigh. At least his hand stays on top of my dress. “Good girl.”
Staring out the window at the verge of the road speeding past, I’m almost tempted to open my door and launch myself out. There is no way I’m going to marry Vance. Death would be preferable.
Oh, Joss. I miss you more than I could have ever thought possible. Where are you? Are you still at the ranch, or are you back in Seattle? Have you given up on me yet? My heart aches for you…
I blink back tears as the Mercedes finally comes to a stop. Leo opens my door, and I get out and wipe my sweaty palms against the red crepe fabric of my dress. Vance jogs to my side and hooks his arm through mine. We cross the road and walk toward the busy pier. It feels like forever since I’ve been out on a public street with normal, everyday people passing by.
I envy the people we pass. A man holds hands with a woman, and she laughs at something he says. I glance behind me as they pass and he kisses her cheek. My mind pictures Joss’s smile right before he kisses me. That look of desire and longing in his eyes… I push the thought out of my mind. I can’t let myself live in my dreams. Joss is gone. I need to keep my wits about me if I’m going to survive.
We enter the cool interior of the building. I shiver at the sudden change in temperature. Of course I don’t have a jacket. That wasn’t on my approved outfit choice for this outing. We’re immediately ushered to a table-for-two overlooking the water. Leo doesn’t follow us, instead he takes a seat at the bar where he can keep an eye on me but not intrude.
Vance holds out my chair for me, and I could almost convince myself he was harmless if he didn’t leer down the front of my dress as I take my seat. The desire to wrap my arms around myself is strong, but I ignore the feeling and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear instead.
“Who did you say owned this place?” I ask as Vance takes his seat.
“Oscar Sloan. He owns several restaurants along the west coast.”
I nod and force a smile. “Have you known him long?”
Vance waves away my question. “Enough about that. I want to know all about you.”
I gulp and stammer out a reply about my dancing. I still have holes in my memories, but what can you really say when your life has never been your own? I needn't have worried though, as Vance spends the next twenty minutes talking about himself and how wonderful he thinks he is. Typical male.
The waitress brings out a mixed assortment of entrees, and I manage to take a few small bites of some fish in a white wine sauce that is actually quite nice. Vance seems to have forgotten about me trying the oysters as he eats them all himself, while telling me about his time in college.
Vance appears to be in his late thirties, but from the way he’s talking, you’d think he only just graduated. He finishes his third drink and motions to the waitress for another. Is he going to get drunk and attempt to drive me back to Rudy’s? Maybe he’ll let Leon drive? The thought of fighting off his drunken advances in the back of the Mercedes is enough to make me shudder.
“You know,” Vance says as another course of just oysters and raw fish is served, “I almost married a girl my senior year of college.” He picks up an oyster in the shell and tips it into his mouth, swallowing it down whole. “Could have been a model, legs for days. Of course I didn’t want to tie myself down to one woman in my twenties.” He laughs loudly and throws down another drink. “But now,” he leers at me, “I think it’s time.”
I nod and take a small sip of my wine so I can look busy and hopefully avoid eating any of the raw seafood that looks revolting.
Vance grabs my hand and jerks me forward so I sprawl half across the table. He places wet, slobbery-fishy kisses against the back of my ha
nd while looking at my chest instead of my face.
I pull my hand away under the pretext of picking up some fish on my fork. Suddenly, the thought of raw fish isn’t as repulsive as the advances of this man Rudy expects me to marry.
He stares longingly at me as I swallow it down without chewing and quickly follow it with another sip of wine.
“Once we’re married, we can come here every week.” He leers at me. “It’ll be our special place.”
“Sounds lovely,” I lie. The thought of having to hide my revulsion at a life of raw seafood and a leering-drunken spouse is more than I can bear. I stand up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”
I hurry from the table and head toward the bathrooms. Leo shadows me but blessedly stops in the hall outside the bathroom door. I push my way into a stall and lock the door. I barely manage to hold my hair back as I empty the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet.
This can’t be happening. I blink back tears as I flush. It’s like some horrible nightmare come to life. But that’s what my life has been, one nightmare after the next. Why is this still happening to me? Surely I deserve some small measure of happiness after all I’ve been through?
I exit the stall and pat my face with water. I can’t marry Vance. There has to be a way out of this. Maybe I can threaten Rudy with the fact that I have the gun he murdered people with hidden somewhere only I know? Even if he kills me, that might be preferable to this… My head starts to swim as my mind is engulfed in darkness.
“Do it again,” Madame instructs from her position in front of the mirrored wall.
I go up onto my toes and manage a few seconds before I come back down. “It hurts my feet,” I whine. I can feel the blisters where they rub against my new pointe shoes.
“A dancer learns to fight through the pain. A real dancer doesn’t whine and complain about the pain. You must learn to embrace the hurt within yourself.” She demonstrates again the pose she wants me to hold.