“I’m sorry. I need to go talk to Thane.”
“Couple trouble? Then skedaddle because you’re no good to me in the state of mind you’re in now.”
Isabella got her jacket and her bike. She pedaled the two blocks over to Longboard Pizza, dreading the entire encounter the whole way.
Hoping to catch Thane in a lull, she spotted him behind the counter taking orders. Inundated with an after-school rush, he had several phone lines on hold blinking and the phone ringing off the hook. With all that, it didn’t seem like the right time to confess her sins.
As soon as he spotted her though, he pleaded, “If you’ve got a minute, I could really use a hand. I’m swamped. It’s been like this for thirty minutes.”
“Sure, I’ll help take the delivery orders.” Tossing her coat off she went to the kitchen phone, pushed the first button blinking on hold.
For the next two hours, she pitched in with more than taking calls. She bussed and wiped down tables, dumped trash, refilled the ice machine. By the time the school rush had dwindled down, the dinner crowd began to show up. Once again, a steady stream of customers kept her from bearing her soul.
About six-thirty the crowd thinned out enough that Thane announced, “Hey, Fisch, I need to head home to give Jonah a bath and put him to bed.”
“No problem. I’ve got it from here,” Fischer yelled out, standing in front of the oven.
“Time to go. Grab your backpack,” Thane told Jonah. To Isabella, he said, “Walk your bike to the corner with us. As soon as Fischer gets home to sit with Jonah, I’ll head to your house. How’s that sound?”
“Great, because there’s something I really need to talk to you about.”
“Okay, does it have anything to do with the way you were acting this morning?”
“Yes. You wanted to know what was wrong at breakfast. I’m ready to tell you.”
For several long seconds, they stared at each other. Curiosity and doubt hung like a weight. But then once the trio reached Landings Bay, Thane and Jonah took Jax and went one way while she stood there with Jazz watching them go. A feeling of doom began to sink in. That desperation wanted to take root in her throat.
Instead of hopping on her bicycle, she tried to call out, but the anxiety blocked her voice until she finally managed to get out the words. “Want help putting Jonah to bed?” It might be the last time she’d get to read him a bedtime story, she thought, standing under the street lamp as they walked away.
“That’s okay. You pitched in at the restaurant for almost three hours on top of putting in your time at the museum. Go home and get off your feet. I’ll be over later when Fisch closes up and gets home.”
They were halfway down the block before she called to the dog and took off for Ocean Street, making the turn at the corner. She crossed the street, pedaling toward the lighthouse, the dog able to keep up because of her lack of hustle.
She’d almost reached the pier when she heard a car approaching behind her which meant it had to be traveling on the wrong side of the road.
She tossed a look over her shoulder, caught a glimpse of a bumper as it appeared in her peripheral vision. At the wharf, she steered up on the sidewalk, pedaled faster. The car kept coming, heading right for her. She braked, jumped off the bike, tossed it down on the grass and took off running toward the beach. As she bolted, she dug for the cell phone she’d stuffed in her pocket.
Jazz thought it was a mere playful romp through the night so the dog kept up a steady riot of barking.
With her hands shaking, Isabella punched in the numbers 9-1-1. But before the call could connect, out of the darkness, a man careened into her. The force knocked her to the ground. There was a scuffle. She tried to fight as an arm wrapped around her neck from behind. A handkerchief covered her nose and mouth. Kicking, fighting, she did her best not to take the next breath knowing what would happen. But as she was forced to inhale the sweetish smell, her body began to go numb. Her vision blurred.
And then everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Five
An hour later, after showering off the dregs of the day, Thane left Jonah in the care of Fischer and hightailed it toward the cliffs. The three-minute drive had him pulling up into the driveway in record time. The first thing he noticed getting out of the car was that there were no lights on inside the cottage. The place was dark when he rang the bell. He stood there expecting her to welcome him wearing one of her sexy outfits. But after several long seconds ticked away and she didn’t come to the door, he began to pound on the wood. When that didn’t get a response, he took out his cell phone, texted her.
But there was no response..
His gut started to do an uneasy slow roll. All at once, he remembered the odd look on her face as she’d stood under the streetlight wanting to help tuck Jonah into bed. She’d appeared… almost frightened. The last few hours at the eatery there hadn’t been any time to talk. But something had been bothering her since that morning. That uneasy roll in his gut turned into a full-blown sick feeling as he got back into his car.
Behind the wheel he sat there wondering where she could’ve gone. He’d been in such a hurry to get Jonah in the tub that he hadn’t actually seen her pedal off. As he contemplated the options, he decided that maybe she’d dropped in on Logan and Kinsey just down the street from his own house. He put the car into gear and headed that way, determining that she probably got hung up there helping out with the twins. It didn’t exactly make a lot of sense but it was all he had.
At nine-thirty he knocked on the door at the Donnelly house. It took a while for Logan to answer, but when he did Thane immediately realized the sculptor had on a robe over pajamas. It looked as though Thane had gotten him out of bed.
“What’s wrong?” Logan asked blinking wildly.
“Sorry to bother you but I thought Isabella might be here.”
“Here? Now? Why would she be here this time of night?” But as the question left his lips, Logan’s eyes went wide with worry. He held the door open farther. “Come on in, sit down, and tell me the last time you saw her.”
Thane went over the last hour, ending with, “She told me she was heading straight home. But she’s not there.”
“Did you go inside?”
“No. Should I have? I don’t have a key and didn’t want to break the door in.” He sat there a minute with his forehead creased in thought. “Where could she have gone this time of night? And with Jazz in tow?”
“She was on her bike?” Logan asked as he moved to the phone, punched in a series of buttons.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Brent.”
The hair began to rise on the back of Thane’s neck. “Why?” Before Logan could answer, he narrowed his eyes. “Not an hour ago Isabella said she had something to tell me. Do you know what that something was about?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it about her ex? You’re starting to scare me, Logan. Start talking.”
“Look, I need to wait for Brent to get here because I’m only telling this story once.” When the chief of police finally picked up on the other end, Logan said into the phone, “Brent, this is Logan. I think we might have a serious situation in play. Isabella isn’t where she said she’d be. Thane can’t find her. Could you get over to my house as soon as possible? Thane’s here waiting. Okay, see you soon.”
After hanging up, Logan started to leave the room but Thane stopped him.
“What is this about? I want to know what the hell is going on.”
“I need to put some clothes on before Brent gets here. I’ll wake up Kinsey to put on a pot of coffee. It has all the earmarks of becoming a very long night. I’ll be right back.”
“You have to tell me what’s going on. If you know something…I deserve to know. We have to find her.”
“And you will. Answer the door when Brent comes, will you? I need to throw on a pair of jeans.”
With that one statement, it was like a bomb had gone off
in Thane’s head. All his questions splintered into a million pieces.
Once Brent arrived Thane stood back and listened as Logan told the entire, unbelievable story.
“So let me see if I’m getting this,” Thane finally said, “The woman I know, the one I thought I knew, her name is not Isabella Rialto at all but Marisa Isabella Vidalgo Lattimer? Marisa became Isabella Rialto in order to lure out the man who actually killed the woman in Alberta, Canada?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Thane said, his fury exploding in Logan’s direction. “So all this time she was pretending to be someone else. And now, if this Henry guy does have her, what happens when he realizes Marisa isn’t Isabella? You want to tell me that? What happens to your plan then? Or Marisa? He’ll kill her if he hasn’t already. What were you two thinking?”
Thane wasn’t the only one having a difficult time controlling his temper.
“It really pisses me off when amateurs try to play undercover cop,” Brent said in a huff, throwing a sympathetic look toward Thane. “Then you call in law enforcement and expect us to understand your misguided intentions. I won’t even go into the possibility that this Henry might be as unstable as they come. Thane’s right, if Henry does have her and this man’s killed before, there’s no telling what he’ll do when he learns he’s been tricked.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Logan said, noting the glare from his wife. To Kinsey, he apologized, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you the truth. It was a bad idea.”
“Yes, you should have told me the truth long before now, and yes, it was a very stupid idea,” Kinsey fumed from her stoic position at the kitchen table. “But right now, the most important thing is to find Isabella, or rather Marisa.”
Thane ran a hand through his long hair. “Was this Henry waiting at the cottage for her to come in? Or did he take her somewhere along the route home? Wait, I don’t remember seeing her bike at the cottage. I drove right here but I didn’t see the dog anywhere along the way. Instead of sitting around, I should be retracing her steps from the corner at Landings Bay, where I last saw her, taking the route along Ocean Street back to the lighthouse. That makes sense, doesn’t it?” he said, appealing to Brent’s cop mentality.
Brent nodded. “That’s what we’ll do then.”
Thane whirled to Kinsey. “Got a flashlight handy?”
“I’ll get it,” she offered. Opening a kitchen drawer, she pulled out one, held it up to Thane. “I don’t pretend to understand their logic. I just hope you find her.”
“I’ll go with you,” Logan offered when the two men started for the door.
As the trio walked outside, Thane shook his head. “You think you know someone. How could she have lied to me like she did? I feel like I’ve been had, tricked, sucker-punched.” He tossed a glower at Logan. “And you, I’m not sure who I’m angrier with, you or Isabella, Marisa.”
“I know how you feel but right now we need to find her and fast before Henry…” Logan let his voice trail off at the thought before adding, “You can smash my face in later.”
“I’ll remind you of that when I’m pummeling you into dust,” Thane said with disgust. “Let’s get on with this.”
The men got into Brent’s truck and drove down Landings Bay to the corner.
“This is where she was standing with the dog, holding her bike in one hand, the leash in another.” The entire time he talked, Thane checked every house and yard. “Make a right on Pacific, will you? Let me out at the corner.”
“Why?” Brent asked.
“Because I need to go over every inch of street until I find her,” Thane said, worry and panic beginning to take root in his head and his heart.
Once the truck reached Ocean Street, Brent pulled to the curb. All three got out, Brent stopping to grab a couple more flashlights to light the way. They combed one side of the street before crossing over to the dock side.
Doing his best to see in the dark with a small beam of light, Thane spotted Jazz trotting toward him. While bending down to let the dog lick his face, he caught sight of the bicycle thrown on its side in the bushes.
“I found the bike,” he shouted to Brent and Logan. Going over to it, he picked it up, shined the light from front tire to back. “It appears she left it here in a hurry. Someone was definitely after her.”
“Maybe she ran down under the pier to get away,” Brent suggested. “Maybe we should split up, cover more ground.”
They fanned out, walked the stretch of beach from under the cliffs to the south side of Smuggler’s Bay, calling her name. It was on their second pass that Logan found her cell phone. Thane snatched it out of his hands, put in her pass code to unlock the device. “Looks like she tried to call 9-1-1 and never hit send.”
Thane glanced around at the waves lapping the shore and shouted, “Isabella, Isabella, where are you?” About that time his eyes landed on Scott Phillips. Out of desperation, Thane pleaded, “Point me in the direction where she is. If you know where she went, tell me.”
“Check Cleef Atkins’ place. Check his farmhouse. She’s there. But hurry. Henry’s losing it.”
Isabella came out from under the effects of the chloroform in a fog and sick at her stomach. She puked up the contents of her stomach onto the floor as Henry stood a few feet away, oblivious to her condition. Instead, he waved a knife back and forth in her direction.
Isabella’s eyes rested on the man who looked like Henry. But three years had taken its toll. This man was disheveled and wild-eyed. It didn’t help that the images of him kept fracturing in separate pieces and she’d see three of the same face. Once her eyes began to focus better she managed to confirm that it was indeed Henry Navarro.
And Henry kept getting confused.
“You aren’t Isabella. I know you aren’t. I killed Isabella with my own hands. Where is she? Tell me where she is. Now! I’ll kill her again and again until I get it right. I’ll keep killing her until the bitch goes away for good.”
She let him rant until she thought she could stand up. When her head stopped spinning she got to her feet on unsteady legs. She ran the zipper down on the back of her skirt and let it fall to the floor. If she planned to fight, she couldn’t do it in a skirt. Kicking the outfit out of the way, she kept eye contact with Henry as she stepped toward him wearing only her top and panties.
“What are you doing?”
She’d planned this for three years. No way did she intend to blow it now. “I’m getting ready to be with my husband. It’s been a long time, Henry. Don’t you want me? Isn’t that what you want? To be with me? Aren’t I pretty, Henry? You always said I was your radiant, refined Isabella. Remember that, Henry? How you used to flatter me and pay me compliments before beating the crap out of me?”
“But it can’t be you. Isabella’s dead.”
“What are you talking about, Henry, my love? I’m right here. I’m Isabella. You know me. We used to play together in the reeds along the marshland near Oyster Bay. Remember the time I talked you into getting my name tattooed on your left arm. Show me your arm, Henry. Show me how much you loved me back then.”
A light came into Henry’s glassy eyes. He pushed up the sleeve of his pullover, looked down at the writing inked on his upper arm.
Inching toward him a little at a time while he checked out the tattoo, she waited until he met her eyes. By this time she’d closed the distance.
“And what about the four-leaf clover with two crossed swords in the middle that was always our symbol, Henry? What about that? How would I know about our symbol if it wasn’t me standing right in front of you now?” She held up her ankle, showed off the ink on the outside of her lower leg. “There, look at our symbol tattooed on my ankle, Henry. Only your dutiful Isabella would do that for you.”
“But how? How is that possible? I murdered you.”
“How?” She let her head fall back in wild laughter. “I lived, Henry, that’s how. The same
night you drove me to that remote area outside Calgary and beat me senseless, leaving me for dead, I scratched and clawed every inch of the way up to reach the top and dig my way out. I managed to crawl on my elbows out of that filthy trench to the highway where a trucker found me and got me medical attention. That’s how I did it, I crawled out of that filthy ditch where you tossed me, where you left me…and I survived.”
Henry stared at her and muttered to himself, “You’ve changed, Isabella. Your hair’s lighter. Your eyes, they’re greener.”
“Three years is a long time. Maybe you’ve forgotten how green they were.”
“You’re still beautiful.”
“That’s right, Henry. Do you remember that night, the night you kidnapped me from the grocery store?”
“You ran from me. You left me. You ran away to some godforsaken place in Canada. I had to do something. I had to get you back. You were living in a tenement.”
“A tenement? Hardly. Such drama, Henry. I see you still have a flair for theatrics. That night you tried to kill me, after you left me there, a truck driver found me on the side of the road and called the police. They took me to the hospital where it took me months to recover from the beating you gave me. But as you can see...” She held her arms out wide. “I’m back now. We can be together now, Henry. If you’ll just put down the knife, we can be together for all time. You’ll see.”
“But you were all bloody and bruised and ugly that night. Your head was bashed in.”
“I know, but the doctors made me better, stronger. Look at me now. Once you said I was beautiful.”
“You are.”
Close enough now to feel his breath on her skin, she brought her leg up and kneed him in the groin. When he doubled over, she put her knee into his face as hard as she could. Even though he fell back, he still gripped the knife.
“You bitch!” He screamed, moving toward her.
She pivoted and threw an elbow into his stomach. She grabbed his wrist, the one that held the knife in a death lock. Leveraging his arm against the doorframe, with all her strength she flung him back and into the wall. He finally let go of the knife. As it dropped to the carpeted floor, she sent a series of karate kicks to the side of his head and whirled to pick up the weapon.
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