It had been Isabella’s roots as much as her beauty that had captivated Henry. He’d figured their pairing would be a match made in financial heaven. Too bad Isabella had possessed an independent spirit, one that had been difficult to break. God knows, he’d tried. As for now, he refused to accept that all the time they’d spent together had been for naught. He would continue his effort to keep her in line until his last dying breath.
Through his family’s connections he used the services of a skilled private detective who had managed to track down his wife’s solicitor in London. The man, Alistair Chatswick, would pay dearly for providing Isabella with such misguided advice about ending their marriage. Henry would see to it personally. Instead of sending anyone else to do his bidding, this chore he would carry out for himself.
After sneaking out of his current country, Henry had made the best use of a friend’s passport. He’d worn a convincing hairpiece over his own thinning hair and added a fake moustache to the disguise. Landing at Heathrow in the middle of the day, he’d hopped into a cab and taken it to the five-star Cornelius Piazza Hotel and checked into a luxurious suite. Even if his trip was short, only for one or two nights, there was an image to maintain. Henry was good at maintaining that haughty air that came so natural to him. But make no mistake, like any common criminal, he could and often did, circumvent the law to get his way.
Once he’d settled into his studio, Henry ordered steak from room service, ate the rare meat in an ease of leisure while he waited for the cover of darkness.
Once the sun went down, he donned the pretense and made his way around the corner to the Bristow Law Firm. Dressed in black, Henry used the back entrance and the access card he’d paid dearly for to gain entry to the building. He held his nose while taking the service elevator to the fifteenth floor. There, he used the same key card to slide through the reader. Because the law offices were empty, he was able to take his time going through file after file until he found what he was looking for.
According to the paperwork, he discovered that since their divorce, Isabella had settled in some disgusting backwoods community called Pelican Pointe, California. As Henry read the words, he realized he should have known she’d go running to that bastard, Logan Donnelly, for comfort and help.
“Typical bohemian behavior,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved the file back into its slot in the drawer.
The urge ran through him to set fire to the entire office, watch the whole building go up in flames from the street. But Henry had a better idea. He’d take that brilliant plan to Alistair’s own back door, the place where the solicitor and his family felt the safest. He’d show him the power of Henry Navarro.
Henry took the elevator to the basement, walked out the way he’d come in. On Stratton Street he hailed a taxi and directed the driver to drop him off near the intersection of Abbey and Wellington Roads.
With traffic, the drive took twenty minutes. At the appropriate spot as instructed, the cab driver pulled to the side allowing Henry to pay his fare.
There was a moment of hesitation before Henry reached across to the front seat, waved two fifty pound notes under the man’s nose and told the driver in a heavy Spanish accent, “Forget you ever saw me here. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, mate.”
From there, Henry got out and footed the half mile into the trendy neighborhood of St. John’s Wood carrying a tote bag. On a tree-lined street, the address went with a spacious red-brick, three-story mansion. Studying the opulent digs only increased the fury he was already harboring. It seemed Isabella had contributed to the solicitor’s success. Apparently the divorce business was a worthwhile occupation.
From the inside of his satchel, he drew out a pair of mini binoculars and surveyed the building for a security system or camera setup. Unable to spot one, the gate persuaded him he’d have to scale the brick wall at the most advantageous position. After breaching the perimeter, he circled around to the back of the property. Once there, he brought out a flashlight. Slicing his way through a thick line of hedges, he missed his footing and stumbled over the stone statue of a cherub near the entrance to the garden. Like an idiot, he swore and kicked the ugly thing with his foot.
Even with the beam of light it was difficult to see in the darkness. He had trouble locating the circuit board. But when he did, he flipped each breaker to the “off” position just in case. From there, he made his way to the backdoor where he took out his lock pick.
When he heard the mechanism click, he pushed open the door and strolled inside. Taking out his flashlight again he slipped past the kitchen and prowled through the first level collecting small items he could carry away in the pockets of his jacket. His scavenger hunt continued as he moved into the study. There he pilfered a Montblanc pen set. From the living area he took a platinum figurine in the shape of a bird adorned with a ribbon of diamonds and rubies. In the library, he perused the bookshelves, decided the first edition copy of The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams would fetch a fair price on the black market and pay off a few of his debts. He shoved the loot down into his bag. On his way out of the room he picked up a silver Cartier cigarette lighter. This he would put to use in about ten minutes. He moved upstairs with a purpose, finding the nail polish remover he needed in the second floor bathroom.
He went out into the hallway, stood with pride on the landing near the bedrooms and the singular staircase. He opened the small bottle and emptied its contents onto the carpeting. He took out the fancy lighter belonging to the solicitor. Flipping open the top, he triggered the flame. With one toss, he pitched the entire thing on the floor and watched as the spark flared then burst into a full-blown blaze. Calm and satisfied with his work, Henry walked down the stairs and out the front door, escaping into the night and with the feeling of a job well done.
Back in Pelican Pointe something caused Isabella to jolt upright in bed. The unease had her reaching for the gun in the nightstand drawer. At the foot of the bed, the movement caused Jazz to raise her head in a foggy gaze.
“A lot of watchdog you are,” Isabella grumbled, staring at the pooch. “Or is it me? Am I imagining things that go bump in the night?”
Jazz yawned in response and crawled closer until the pup was right up next to her master.
“Good idea. We’ll go back to sleep huddled together. I won’t let him hurt you or anyone else,” Isabella muttered to the dog. But she knew those words were a weak reminder of what Henry was capable of doing.
“We’ll go back to sleep,” she repeated, rubbing Jazz behind one droopy ear. “We’ll kick his ass if he shows up here, won’t we girl?”
But there was one problem with that plan. Years earlier she’d gotten a glimpse into what true evil looked like. She knew him to be an attractive man who showed up often bearing a smile and most times, gifts or trinkets geared to impress his quarry.
Good thing she was no longer interested in anything Henry Navarro had to offer.
Chapter Thirteen
From a haze of sleep, Thane heard a series of yips and whines coming from somewhere in the room. He rolled over to see that it was barely four-thirty. His first thought centered on Jonah. Was that the boy moaning in his sleep? Was Jonah sick? Maybe it was the ice cream and peanut butter he’d eaten before bedtime.
After he’d eliminated everything else, Thane remembered the puppy. That thought had him zeroing in on the end of the bed. Movement caught his eye as the dog bounded over and started licking the hand that stuck out from under the covers. The action told him she was either missing her sister or needed to go outside. With a reluctant, but resigned motion, Thane got up, wandered over to the patio door in his bedroom and slid back the glass. He watched as Jax scampered out into the backyard and into the darkness.
He stood there on the cold floor, his toes curling as he tried to keep an eye on the canine while she sniffed every blade of grass in the yard.
“Come on, hurry up. It’s chilly out there.”
A few minutes later the pooch ca
me back obviously pleased with herself by the constant wagging of her tail.
“Good girl, Jax,” Thane said as he rubbed her ears. “If you promise to do that every morning instead of peeing on the tile floor, I’ll treat you to bacon and eggs for breakfast.”
In total agreement with the deal, Jax woofed back.
Thane flopped back down on top of the mattress hoping to catch more shuteye. Without an invitation the dog hopped up next to him, burrowed into his body. He didn’t have the energy to make her move and fell asleep with the dog nuzzling the side of his face.
The next time he opened his eyes, Jonah was shaking him awake. “Daddy, I’m hungry.”
“What? Oh. Sure. Eggs. I’ll fix eggs.”
“But I don’t want eggs. I want cereal,” Jonah said stubbornly, standing next to the bed, clutching his puppy. “But Jax wants eggs.”
Thane threw back the blanket, stared at his son’s hair sticking straight up from sleep and his Spiderman PJs. He looked at the clock, noted, they had overslept.
“We need to hustle. This is your fault,” he said to Jax as he scrubbed a hand behind the dog’s ears.
“Do I get cereal?”
As a father, there were times that called for strict guidelines and a stern hand. But after last night’s ordeal with Bobby Prather, Thane decided giving in on a simple request for breakfast was hardly worth a major battle. “Is a bowl of Cheerios more to your liking then?”
Jonah pumped a fist in the air and took off for the kitchen, sliding down the hallway with his dog in the process.
Thane followed and found Jonah scrambling up on a stepladder so he could reach the bowls. Two dishes clattered on the counter.
After searching the pantry for the box of cereal Thane took out the milk and waited for the right time to discuss what he wanted to address before Jonah headed for school. They both were well into digging into the food when Thane said, “I want to talk to you about Bobby Prather.”
“Did you find him?”
“I didn’t but Mr. Cody did.”
“He’s the chief of police. He’s coming to the school next week to talk to our class.”
“Great. Look, I need to ask you something. Since school started has Bobby always said mean things to you?”
“He says mean things to everybody.”
“But he didn’t bother you before school started, right? I mean, we’ve been right here in the same neighborhood since June. Yesterday on the playground was the first time Bobby singled you out, right?”
Jonah bobbed his head up and down, slurped his milk.
“I need to ask a favor. I want you to try to hold your temper when dealing with Bobby, okay? No matter what he does or says, I want you to try and ignore him.”
“Why? I want to bash his face in.”
“I know you do. But fighting him won’t help you or Bobby. Besides, he’s older and outweighs you by a good fifteen pounds. Let’s try another approach.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s try one that’s a lot more difficult, a harder one. I want you to do your best to make friends with him. You and Tommy should ride bikes with him or something.”
“No, Dad! Bobby’s mean. He says nasty things.”
“Bobby says those things because he’s not happy at home.”
“Why isn’t he happy? He has two parents.”
“He just isn’t. Sometimes it doesn’t matter if two parents are in the house. Families are made up out of happy people and sad people. Sometimes sad people rule the day and turn out to be the meanest. Trust me on this, okay? So how about we try and help Bobby out. Why don’t we start slow. How about you invite him over here this afternoon after school?”
“Do I have to?”
“No, you don’t have to. But it would be a nice thing if you did. Who knows? You might actually find you have something in common. You might actually like each other. Think of it as an experiment.”
“Sounds like no fun to me,” Jonah muttered.
“If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. How’s that sound?”
“Like no fun at all.”
Inside Sea Glass Cottage, Isabella woke to a wet, sloppy tongue slicking the side of her face. Jazz looked ready to go for a potty break. The puppy didn’t mind letting her master know it either. It was the dog’s persistent jumping that had her throwing on a robe.
“Okay, okay. I’m getting up as fast as I can.”
Isabella moved over to the French doors and flung them open. The pooch raced out into the sunshine and Isabella followed out onto the terrace, watched as the pup explored her new terrain.
A little nervous about the day ahead, Isabella stood there and realized how long it had been since she’d last held a job. Before her ex, that was for sure. The idea of starting to work again after all this time made it difficult for her to build up any real excitement. But she’d already committed to River Cody. That meant someone was counting on her to show up on time. Because of that she’d go through with it. After fifteen minutes waiting for Jazz to finish her business, Isabella gave up on the dog and went into the kitchen to start coffee.
As she listened to it drip through the automatic brewer, Isabella found her thoughts drifting to Henry Navarro. She considered calling Logan or Thane to talk things over with them but decided she didn’t want to interrupt their regular routines. After all, Logan had twins to help care for and Thane had to get Jonah ready for school. It didn’t make sense to complain to them about her ex and the uneasiness she felt. Where was the careful prep she’d done for the past several years? She’d taken enough self-defense courses for six people, learned to shoot a variety of weapons, and trained her head to defeat the ex who had such a hold on her.
But despite all that, during quiet, peaceful moments like this morning, memories often overran her thoughts. Maybe because this time of day, when she’d had trouble sleeping the night before, she’d think back to times when her life hadn’t been this serene.
Annoyed with her focus, she called the dog back into the house, turned the locks, and went into the bathroom to shower. While the water sluiced over her body, she thought about Thane. He was so unlike her ex. Thane exuded self-confidence without the haughtiness and malice she’d rarely seen in a male. In her mind, Thane brought out masculinity in an attractive way each time he interacted with his child.
Out of the shower, she fiddled with her hair, tried a new style by putting it up in a bun and decided it looked ridiculous that way. She let it trail down to her shoulders.
Moving into the confines of her closet, she suddenly realized if she rode her bike, she had to pedal down the hill to the museum—a fact that impacted her choice of outfit. Standing among a sparse selection of jeans and dresses, she sifted through hangers and wondered what ensemble would work best. River hadn’t mentioned a dress code and she hadn’t thought to ask.
She decided to play it safe and settled on a longish flowered skirt, paired it with a pink crop top and a bold orange jacket.
Over two toaster waffles with maple syrup, Isabella sipped her coffee, enjoying the solitude—except for the slurping sounds coming from the corner of the kitchen. She chuckled at the way Jazz had taken to her water dish and food. “Nothing wrong with your appetite,” she noted in the dog’s direction.
When it came time to leave, she grabbed the leash she’d picked up at Murphy’s Market from the peg in the entryway and checked her image in the mirror. At the last minute she decided to tie her hair back instead of leaving it down. Pleased with the outcome, she grabbed her purse and called to the dog.
“You’ll have to stay at Thane’s today,” she told Jazz on the way to where her bike was propped up at the side of the house. But then she stopped in her tracks. “What am I thinking? I can’t ride my bike. You’d have to follow me and you’re too little for that. You’d never be able to keep up. We’ll walk to work.” She started down the hill with Jazz at her heels. “Today, you’ll get to spend time with Jax and then I’ll pick you up afte
r I get done with work. You’ll see, the time will pass quickly.”
Once she reached level ground, she thought long and hard about buying a car. But the day was so beautiful with the water glistening in the bay that it signaled all the advantages of being able to walk such a short distance to a job.
For a Tuesday Ocean Street seemed busier than usual. People were out and about early. Flynn McCready stood on his stoop holding a broom and grunted as she strolled by. She waved to Dan Jenkins at the bait shop who was in the process of helping a customer load bags of ice into his pickup.
Malachi Rafferty, owner of the T-Shirt Shop, said hello as he dragged his sign out onto the sidewalk. The ad made sure everyone knew that if you bought three shirts he’d give you a nice price break for the money.
Jazz had to stop several times to sniff each tree along the route and, at times, fought the leash. Near the pier the pup wanted to bolt toward the bay. Isabella couldn’t figure out why until she caught sight of Scott standing at the end of the wharf. That explained Jazz’s reaction just like the night before, she decided.
It was the smell of crab cakes cooking inside The Pointe wafting on the breeze that made her remember she hadn’t bothered to pack a lunch. Ah well, she’d get back into the rhythm of going to work soon enough. She’d run over to the Diner whenever she got hungry.
When she spotted Thane at the end of the block walking Jonah to school she waved for him to wait. She and Jazz caught up with them just as Jonah darted off to talk to his friend, Tommy.
Thane cocked his head and eyed the golden brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Hey there, you look beautiful and all ready for your first day on the job I see. Love the skirt.”
“Thanks. The Archers must be great at potty training a dog. Jazz didn’t have a single mishap overnight.”
“Same with Jax. We’ll have to find a way to repay their efforts.”
“Agreed. Well, she’s been fed and shouldn’t give you any trouble. Oh, look, Thane, there’s Bobby Prather.”
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