by Lexi Blake
Isla stirred finally, her eyes coming open. She sat up.
“It looks like you’re having a good morning, too,” his mother said, staring at her with obvious curiosity. “Hello, dear, I’m Alma Cormack.”
Isla’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m Isla Shayne and now I wish I’d brought a toothbrush. And taken a shower.”
This was awkward. “Mom, Isla’s a friend from work.”
That seemed to get rid of all of Isla’s awkwardness. She stood up and held a hand out. “I’m your son’s girlfriend. If I have my way, I’m going to marry him because I love him madly. Now, before I end up sounding like a stalker, I’ll go and see if the nurses can find me some toothpaste. I’ll be back in a while. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Cormack.”
“It was nice to meet you, too.” His mother turned on him the moment the door closed. “You didn’t tell me you were getting married. How could you not tell your own mother? Oh, David, she’s lovely. What does she do? How did you meet? I’m going to set up a lunch with her. We’ll invite your aunts. When is the wedding? Spring? I love a spring wedding.”
He hadn’t seen his mother so excited in years. She was patient and calm. She was controlled because his father was not, but there was pure joy in her eyes now. And naturally he had to be the one to squash it.
“I’m not getting married.” Though he needed to watch Isla closely now. She was a bit on the ruthless side. If he let her get together with his mother, he might find himself in a precarious situation. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’m trying to break up with her.”
Her eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Why would you break up with her? Is she dangerous?”
How was he going to explain this to her without bringing up touchy subjects? “No, of course not. She’s . . . she’s amazing. She’s smart and funny, and I had no idea how stubborn she could be.”
His mom moved to the side of his bed. “You sound like you care about her.”
Maybe she would understand. “I care about her enough to let her go.”
His mom went still. “What does that mean?”
Damn it. He shouldn’t have started this. “It means this isn’t going to work out the way she thinks it is. She’s being stubborn. We had an affair while we were working a case together and now that the case is over, it’s time to move on.”
“That’s how you treat a woman who loves you?”
His mother could still send him a look that made him feel like he was ten years old and caught doing something he shouldn’t. “It wouldn’t work.”
He even sounded like a stubborn kid.
“Why?” She stared down at him as though trying desperately to understand.
“She’s a lawyer, too. You know how hard it is to have a marriage and two high-powered careers.” He would give logic a shot. “Besides, the firm is just getting off the ground. That means it could be years before I have time to give her. It wouldn’t be fair.”
There was a moment of heavy silence before she looked at him, grave knowledge in her stare. “This is because of me.”
He sat up and wished he was wearing something besides a hospital gown. “No, Mom. It’s because of me.”
She shook her head and set her purse down. “I doubt that. You know you never asked me. All these years and you’ve been quite good about taking care of us. We wouldn’t have gotten through financially without you. I would have had to put him in a home. Is that why you won’t let yourself be happy? Because we’re too much of a burden to you? Because we can downsize the house. I saved money.”
“It’s not about that. How could you even think that?”
“Because the other reason is too terrible to contemplate.”
He reached out, pulling her small hand into his. “We both have to face facts. There is a chance that in the next ten or twelve years, I’m going to develop a disease. It’s called CTE.”
She frowned. “I know about that. Of course I know. What does that have to do with whether or not you marry?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to the woman I marry.”
“Does she know about the risks?” his mother asked.
“Yes.” Apparently Isla knew a lot about CTE.
“But she accepted them? Did she tell you about her risks?” The questions came out in an impatient tone.
“She doesn’t have any.”
His mother paced the small room, her irritation evident. “She could be killed in a car accident. She could be murdered walking down the street. But that’s not what you’re afraid of, is it? Did she tell you she could live through that car accident and lose her ability to walk, to feed herself, to do anything? Because that could happen, and here’s the easy thing for you to do, son, since you’re so worried about it. Leave. Walk away. You can shove her in a nursing home and not look back. That’s a risk, too. I wonder, when I get too sick to take care of myself, will you simply euthanize me? Do I lose my meaning to you when I can no longer function as I did?”
Those words shocked him, made him flush with shame. How could she think that? “I would never do that to you. Never. I love you. Can’t you understand? Either of you? I’m a walking time bomb. I could blow up and ruin everyone’s lives. What if we had kids?”
“Then I would get grandkids and have more joy in my life,” his mother shot back. “You were a joy to us and if your father had known his risk and done what you’re thinking of doing, then you’d never exist. You are the walking proof of your father’s love for me. Of my love for him. I can’t imagine a world where you weren’t born, but that’s what you’re asking of that woman who loves you.”
He loved his life. He’d loved his childhood, even though it was spent in poverty. There had been a few years when even food was scarce, but his father would always eat last though he was the largest. His father would take the pain so his wife and child could have the comforts. “I miss Dad.”
She sat down beside him. “He’s still here, baby. That’s what you don’t understand. I still see him. He comes out in little glimpses. Rarer now, but even when they’re totally gone, I won’t regret a thing. What I would regret is not taking care of him the way he took care of me. What you see as a burden . . . I won’t say it’s not hard, but I wouldn’t change it. Not for the world. I have had the best life. I had your father for almost forty years. I wouldn’t change that simply because the end isn’t perfect. Sometimes he thinks it’s the seventies again and he puts on Elton John and he asks me to dance like he did then. And we dance and dance. It’s not all bad. Some of it is so beautiful if you open yourself to it.”
Exactly what Isla had said. There was beauty in everything. Even in the end.
“I don’t know what to do.” He’d felt this way for so long. He wasn’t sure how to change it. “Maybe I should take the test so I would know the real risks. They can tell me if I have the protein marker.”
His mother seemed to consider the idea. “If that would make you feel better, but if it would change her mind, then she’s not the right girl.”
“It wouldn’t and that’s why I’m trying to spare her.”
“And if she doesn’t want to be spared?”
He had no answer for that.
The door opened and Isla walked in. She smiled at his mother. “He’s getting out today. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything to reinjure himself. Babe, I’m going to grab some breakfast in the cafeteria. They said it would be another hour or so before they release you. Don’t run. I’ll find you.”
His mom stood up. “I think I’ll have a cup of coffee with you, Isla. If you don’t mind some company.”
Isla smiled, that crazy, gorgeous, light-up-his-whole-world smile. “I would love that.”
“Hey, I thought you were here to see me,” he complained as his mom grabbed her purse.
“I find her infinitely more interesting at the moment. Think about what I
said.” She followed Isla out.
David sat back. He wasn’t sure he would be able to think about anything else. His mother would fall in love with Isla and he would be the bad guy.
The TV caught his eye, a picture of Portia Adams crossing the screen. The news anchor’s voice introduced the piece.
We end today’s broadcast with newly released footage from a documentary film Portia Adams was working on with renowned director Gary Keller. Mr. Keller is releasing a few minutes of the film in honor of the recently deceased Portia Adams. He hopes to complete and expand her vision later this year, focusing on the highs and lows of being a famous family, and how love was still at the center of everything. Here it is.
Slow music played and a shot of Trey launching the football came on the screen. Portia’s voice took over.
It didn’t matter that you were the hero of the city. What mattered was you were my hero.
The clips slid into one another, each a precious taped memory. Portia and Trey’s wedding. Her cheering him on from the sidelines. Trey Adams holding his newborn son.
You were their heroes.
Trey Adams grinned as he scooped up a toddler girl in his arms as they ran across the green of the park.
And that, through it all, through wins and losses, good and bad, we were a family.
The anchor came back on, but David was transfixed by those simple words.
We were a family.
Portia Adams loved her husband. She loved him truly and deeply and she wouldn’t have taken it back.
And that’s why it didn’t make sense.
Trey had said she was angry. Why would she have been angry about Amber cheating on Carey? Sure, there would have been some self-righteous indignation, but that wasn’t what Trey had described that day in the park. He’d said Portia had held him.
I remember she told me she would get them. She would take them all down.
That didn’t sound like some affairs. That sounded like someone had hurt her family. Amber and Carey’s marriage wouldn’t affect the Adams family.
There was something else. Something they hadn’t figured out yet.
He slid out of bed and got dressed, eager to deal with a problem that wasn’t Isla.
SEVENTEEN
Isla sat back in the limo Henry had sent to pick up his best friend. He’d likely done it as an apology for totally bailing on breaking up with her. She’d hugged Alma Cormack moments before David walked his mother into Penn Station to catch the LIRR. She’d refused a limo ride back to Long Island, saying she greatly preferred the train, and it was faster given how bad traffic was.
Would David run with her? Would he slip on that train himself and disappear in a desperate attempt to get away from his unwanted potential bride?
How the hell was she going to make him see the light? The truth was she only had limited time with him. She could tell him that she wasn’t leaving, that she was going to stand and fight, but he could bar her from his offices. He could avoid her. If he truly chose to, he could keep her out of his life. Time and distance would do their work, and eventually she would have to let go.
Give him a little time, his mother had requested. Alma had practically begged her to be patient with him. She’d talked about what a great son David was, how happy she was that he was involved with someone again, how hard the divorce had been.
How hard his dad’s illness had been.
David was afraid of the future. Without her, he could cling to the present and ignore what might or might not happen. With her, he had to face it all. She wasn’t sure he was ready to do that, would ever be ready to do that.
She’d started the day so positive, but after going back to the penthouse to pick up their things and change, she was starting to wonder if this was a fight she could win. David had been quiet and distant. He was polite, but he allowed her to do most of the talking with his mom. Isla had shown her around the penthouse, got her some coffee while David packed up.
When the time had come to drop Alma off, he asked if he could do it alone. He’d left her in the car. Had he left altogether?
The door opened and David climbed in. “Take us to the office, please.”
He closed the door and then hit the button that brought up the privacy wall between the front and back of the car.
“Are you feeling okay?” She was worried about him. He was still pale even after she’d gotten some food in him. “Maybe you shouldn’t go into the office. I know Henry was expecting you to go home.”
“Henry isn’t my boss.”
He was going to be stubborn and that was bad news for her. “No, but he cares about you. He wouldn’t want you back at work before your body is ready.”
“My body is fine. It’s my brain I’m worried about. I’ve got a couple of ideas I want to run by the group and then I’ll rest,” he said. He sat back and was quiet as the driver managed to make the turn down Lexington. “She likes you. She never liked Lynn.”
“I liked her, too.”
His eyes narrowed, but there was a small smile on his face that softened the expression. “You like everyone.”
Oh, he was wrong about that. “No, I don’t. I hope Kristoff Paloma rots in jail. I would say something about him becoming someone’s prison bitch, but I’m above that. Rotting in prison is one thing. The complete violation of another’s right to be violation-free is something else.”
“See,” he said, his voice deep, “you’re soft, Shayne. I personally would like to fillet the fucker for holding a gun on you. Though I think first I would torture him for information.”
“Information? I would think he’s giving up Amber as fast as he can.”
“Yes, he’s admitted Amber is the one who killed Portia and she threatened to blame it on him if he didn’t help her,” he explained. “Henry sent over some new information this morning. Apparently they’re holding a hard line, saying this was all about covering up their affair.”
She was happy to have him talking. “You say that like you don’t believe it. Miranda told me she knew about the affair. They were definitely sleeping together. She said it started during that girls’ trip to Paris and continued to London the next year. I have to think they arranged that meeting.”
“It would be too coincidental,” David mused. “They either arranged it or Paloma had been watching her and waiting for the chance.”
“I don’t know about that. I do know Amber took several trips to Europe in the last couple of years. They could have been meeting. I would bet she’s been giving him money.” But something bugged her. “Amber is always so conscientious about taking care of Carey. She makes sure he takes his pills every day.”
“Maybe we should check that those are the pills he’s supposed to take,” David said with a huff. “She might have been trying to kill him the whole time.”
“Then why make sure he goes to every doctor’s appointment and has his blood checked once a month? These aren’t new doctors. They’re the same doctors he’s been going to for years,” she pointed out. “It’s hard for me to believe she’s trying to kill him. Black widows tend to try to isolate their spouses, try to keep them sick. She encourages him to have his friends over, to exercise. Honestly, she’s a pretty good wife.”
“If you don’t mind the lover on the side.”
“Well, there is that.” She looked out the window. Traffic was her friend today. They were stuck at a light, surrounded by taxis and Ubers all fighting to be the next one through. The limo driver would be far more chill. “Why do you still care? You’re off this case. Unless Carey called you. Did he? I’m worried about him.”
“No, he didn’t. I wouldn’t take the call anyway. I’m going to have to testify against his wife.” David leaned back. “And I can’t be bought. I’m not going to refuse. She did the crime and she needs to be in jail.”
“I know. But it makes me sad for Ca
rey,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sure the news has made him look like a fool. He hates that. He can handle almost anything but looking like a fool. He’s not answering my calls.”
“He needs some time.”
It was right there—the thing he didn’t say. He needed some time, too. He needed to figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t sure he wanted her.
A long moment passed and she wanted to push him. She wanted to poke and prod and make him decide because she wasn’t patient. It would make her crazy. But he’d been on edge all morning and her taking his mom time probably hadn’t helped.
He shook his head and suddenly spoke. “I don’t think this is about the affair. Something in my gut is telling me we missed something.”
“What would we have missed? I’m not sure what else it could be about and why Amber would lie about it.”
“Unless there was something worse than an affair.”
“She was very protective of her marriage to him,” Isla explained. “I remember her talking about how the Kendrick name was sacred and she had to uphold the image. I think she was ready to do anything to keep their name out of the tabloids. She had to know Carey would divorce her.”
He looked like he wanted to argue for a moment and then sat back with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe she was skimming money from the company and sending it to her lover? Something like that might drive the stock price down.”
“She wouldn’t know how to do that. She’s not the brightest bulb.” She felt bad saying it but it was absolutely true. Amber had been great at throwing parties and cheering on her team. She hadn’t exactly fit into Portia’s circle. Portia had been the smart one. She glanced down at the box she’d brought with her. When they were clearing out of the penthouse, she’d brought along the box the police had sent back the day before. She was still looking through it. Isla told herself she merely wanted to glance through it, but maybe she was also looking for answers.