by Harte, Jenna
“For what?”
He held her tight, needing to feel her round him, holding him as if only she was preventing him from shattering into a million pieces.
“The last four days have been unbearable, but today... today has been hell. I could barely get through it,” he said. “I would never be able to survive if I really lost you, Madeleine.”
Madeleine’s hands caressed his face. “It’s not real. I’m here with you now. And I’m going to stay here.”
He started to protest, but she pressed a finger to his lips.
“I won’t go back to that safe house Max, I won’t. Our home is just as safe as anywhere. We can close all the drapes so no one can see in and people will think you're just closing out the world because of your grief. I promise I won’t be seen or go anywhere.”
“Like you didn’t go anywhere the last time you were holed up?”
She gave him a face. “You would bring that up.”
“It's your safety we’re talking about here. As awful as it is to be apart, I’d rather have you locked away safe and not see you than to have you killed.”
“I saw you today, Max. You could barely function. Even as a farce, my funeral cost you.”
He couldn’t deny that.
"Besides, I should be taking care of you instead of Julia.”
“But Julia can cook.”
Eyes narrowed, Madeleine said, “You are evil, Max Delecoeur. If you want Julia to sooth your grief, fine. But I’m not leaving and nothing you can do will force me to leave.”
“Madeleine,” his voice turned to velvet and his eyes softened, but held a mischievous glimmer.
“Oh no you don’t.” She started to push him away, but he moved within her sending exquisite sensations through her body. She gritted her teeth. “You can’t sweet talk me this time.” She tightened her legs around him to keep him from moving.
“I’m not talking.” He shifted.
She groaned. There was only one thing left to do. Fight fire with fire. She arched her back and pulled him close.
He growled, his thoughts of trying to get her to go back to the safe house lost by the sensations of his very much alive wife moving beneath him.
Now it was love and passion and joy that drove him. He sought to give her back all that she’d given him. She responded in kind. Together they moved, until sated, they lay quietly in each other’s arms.
Max grinned as he watched her snuggle against him. God he felt better. She was right. Even though the whole funeral and reception were fake, it had cost him. He thought he could pull it together and send her back to the safe house, but why bother? The truth was he wanted her with him where he could keep an eye on her.
The ordeal had cost her too. He could see it in her eyes. Twice now someone had tried to kill her. The last four days they hadn’t seen each other as Lt. White arranged to have her whisked away to a safe place and they put into motion a plan to smoke out the killer.
They had spent time apart in the past, but always stayed connected by phone or email. This time they had zero contact and it was extremely difficult. The farce had begun to feel all too real. Max’s only assurance that all was well over the last few days was Lt. White’s cryptic messages delivered under the guise of the investigation.
Madeleine looked just as tired and worn down as he felt. "Have you eaten? Would you like some dinner?"
“Sounds good. What do you have?”
“Sandwiches.”
“Hmmm Julia’s no doubt.”
He laughed. “How hungry are you?”
“Hungry enough to eat Julia’s sandwiches.”
Chapter Seven
Max put his robe on and left to get the sandwiches. He returned a few minutes later with a tray that also included fruit and champagne.
“Looks like someone is hoping to get lucky,” Madeleine said. She didn’t hold her champagne well. It made her tipsy and amorous. Max sometimes liked to take advantage of that. Madeleine liked to let him.
He grinned. “I already did.” Oscar trotted in and barked a greeting. “Someone else is glad you’re here.”
“I’m so glad to be home. With everything going on, it helps to have some semblance of normalcy.” She patted the bed and invited Oscar to sit with her.
“I still don’t know that it’s the best idea.” He passed her a glass of champagne.
“You aren’t going to try to talk me into leaving are you?”
“No. Turns out I need some of that normalcy too. I’m just uncomfortable with the whole situation. The only thing we know now is that Alan wasn’t involved.”
Madeleine’s smile faded. Alan was dead and Madeleine couldn’t help but feel responsible. She felt guilty that she’d even suspected him. Lt. White had told her that Alan's briefcase held documents that suggested the money had been used to care for his daughter who was incapacitated following a car accident. Alan had been in Las Vegas during the time he’d disappeared and was gambling to repay the money. Madeleine wished that he’d come to her about the money, not because she didn’t like that he stole from the foundation, but because she would have been eager to help him.
“Why didn’t he come to us about Jackie’s condition?”
Max shrugged. “I don’t know. Pride maybe?” He sat on the bed next to Madeleine and handed her a plate with a sandwich on it.
“We should have known."
"Why? We're not psychic. For some reason he didn't want us to know."
“Well, hopefully, wherever he is, he knows that we have made arrangements for her care."
“I didn’t realize how good a gambler he was. He made five thousand in Vegas and put it back into the foundation.”
“He was there to tell us the situation, I just know it.”
Max nodded. “I’m sure he was too.” He took her hand. “It's not your fault.”
“I could have stayed home.”
“I would have preferred that, but we don’t know that would have changed anything. For all we know he was the target...”
Madeleine gave him doubtful look.
"The point is, someone else pulled the trigger."
“I know, it’s just so sad.”
“You’ll be happy to know that Corbin is doing great.” Max said.
“Corbin?”
“Mr. Tamm.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
“He’ll be getting a nice raise and cushy job when he’s done recuperating.”
Madeleine smiled. She knew Max would do something extra special for him. By saving her life, Corbin Tamm had earned the moon as far as Max was concerned. “He certainly deserves it.”
“He certainly does." Max turned to her. “Have you been able to remember anything about the shooter?”
She shook her head. After the shooting, she tried to remember what she’d seen, but all she could recall was Alan falling and Mr. Tamm pushing her out of the way. Both had been shot and in Alan’s case, it was fatal. She remembered Max entering the garage and how he fell to the ground at the site of Alan’s covered body. She realized that he thought the body was hers and she rushed to reassure him that she was alive. During their marriage, they’d gone through many emotional experiences together, but never had the emotions been so intense and raw. She had never seen Max come completely undone before. It still tore at her heart to think of it.
“I’ll never forget that day and yet, I can’t seem to recall seeing anything but Alan and then a gun. The person was passing in a car. A non-descript black car. Everything happened so fast.”
"I hate that Alan is dead and Corbin was hurt, but I'm forever grateful that you weren't killed. I don't know how I'd survive without you." Max moved the tray away and pulled Madeleine back into his arms.
"This is much nicer than being apart,” she said making the point that she wasn't leaving.
"True."
"Although, I got the impression that Julia would be happy to oblige you in the love making area."
"When?"
"Tonight. I
thought she'd never leave."
"You were in the house then?"
"Yes." Her tone and expression were defiant.
"Sure took you long enough to reveal yourself."
"I had to be sure everyone was gone."
"Where were you?"
"Laundry room."
He laughed. "No wonder Oscar was so intent on being in the laundry room."
"He kept me company."
"I guess it's good I sent Julia away. I was feeling pretty down and there was a time that Julia was good friend."
Madeleine narrowed her eyes, but didn't take the bait.
"I remember when my foster parents chose to adopt Kevin Dreker instead of me. I was devastated, but Julia was there."
Madeleine frowned up at him.
"What?"
"That was true?"
"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because the very same thing happened to Bobby Wilde in Julia's book."
"Really?" He looked surprised.
"Yes."
"Well, isn’t the writing motto, 'write what you know'?"
"It can be. I wonder what else is true in the story?" Madeleine jumped out of bed.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“To get this,” she said picking up the manuscript from her desk and climbing back in bed. "Let's see." She flipped through the pages. "Did you save her from drowning at Lake Sonoma like Bobby did for Diana?"
He thought a moment. "I don't know if I really saved her. We were 16 years old and in bathing suits. I think she just wanted me to hold her. If I remember correctly, that was also the first time we…” He grinned. “Well, you know.”
"That’s in the book too. In great detail," she said wryly.
Max blushed, but wasn’t too embarrassed to ask, “How was I?”
Madeleine made a face. "How about prom?"
"Prom was not so great,” he said. “She spent the whole night telling me how rotten I was for deciding to go to college back east."
Madeleine gaped. "Max, the first part of this book is almost exactly like your life."
"I never thought my life was that interesting."
Madeleine rolled her eyes, "Oh please mister rags to riches."
He laughed. "So how does it end?"
"It hasn't ended yet, but it's clear that Bobby and Diana will get together. He's married now to a lawyer."
"Well that is different."
Madeleine frowned. "I wonder ..."
"What?"
"Well, in this story, Bobby leaves for college and Diana tries to forget him in the arms of Samuel."
"I would hate to think I was that easy to get over."
"You're not."
"Have you tried?"
She leaned in and kissed him. "Never."
"Good."
"Diana gets pregnant and goes to Bobby hoping he hates the east coast and will come home, go to medical school and marry her. He says he can't...blah blah blah… So she marries Samuel. We still don't know who the father is."
She looked at Max, worry furrowed her brow. "What if that's true too?"
Surprised, Max jerked back. "Julia and my relationship was not interesting enough to carry a book. She had to add that in for drama."
"So she never visited you and begged you to come home."
"Well, she did. She came at Thanksgiving I think. She wanted me to go to Cal Poly to study engineering. But she never said she was pregnant. That is where the story is different."
Madeleine looked Max straight in the eyes. "Diana never told Bobby either."
He shook his head. "That's ridiculous. It's just a story."
"She has a boy and names him James.... it's Bobby's middle name."
Max turned away and she could see he was putting the proverbial puzzle pieces together. His middle name was Charles and some people named Charles went by the name Chas. She watched as he began to count on his fingers, nine months. She saw the dread in his eyes and regretted putting it there.
"You know, you're probably right,” she said throwing the manuscript on the floor. “It’s just a story. People's lives are not usually so dramatic."
"It could be possible."
"Certainly she would have told you."
He starred at her for a long moment. "Julia had cared for me as much as she was capable of caring for anyone, but she was always looking out for herself first. She chose William Newcomb because he had money and I had nothing."
"You had something more important than money; integrity and heart."
"She said she would wait for me while I went to Cal-Poly because she knew engineers made good money, but I wanted to go down a different path, one that didn't include marriage to her... But if she told me she was pregnant-"
"You would have done right by her." Madeleine shuddered at the thought that she and Max could have had a life without each other.
"I would have come back to California, but I don't think I'd have married her." He sighed. "I wonder what kind of man that makes me."
"Max?" Madeleine held his face in her palms. "It's probably not true. This story will end with Bobby, Diana and James living happily ever after. That didn’t happen in this case."
He stopped and new dread shone in his eyes. "What happens to Bobby's lawyer wife?"
"I don't know. She hasn't written that far."' Then she realized what he was thinking. "She could die, but Diana wouldn't kill her. Romances don't work like that."
"But it could in real life."
Madeleine thought about it. "I still can't see her killing me."
"She's made herself very accessible to me."
"Yes, and I'm sure she'd love to be there for you in every way possible, but I still don't see her killing me to get you. Julia is vain. She'd rather steal you. She needs to know it’s her wiles that got you. Plus she and Chas both were here in Los Angeles when I had the accident in San Francisco."
"I still don't like it."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to read this manuscript and talk to Lt. White in the morning when I send you back to the safe house."
Madeleine's back went stiff. "You will not."
"If it is her, you can't be here. It's too risky."
Madeleine was about to argue, but the dark look in Max’s eyes changed her mind. She wasn’t going to give in, but she wasn’t going to argue about it while he was upset. Instead, she retrieved the manuscript and settled next to him giving him enough space to read, but still maintaining contact.
Max leaned over and kissed her temple. “I love you. You know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She saw the same determination in his eyes, but like her, he elected not to press his point. She decided she'd let him read and then she'd use the rest of the night to show him why he should keep her around.
Chapter Eight
The phone rang at 8 a.m. Max was just rolling out of bed after Madeleine had woken him in the most sensuous way possible. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up with her making love to him, but he knew her motives were to guarantee he’d keep her around. He was still bothered by Julia’s manuscript, but was trying to talk himself into believing it was a whole lot of fiction built on a little bit of reality.
“Max Delecoeur,” he answered a little too animated for someone who was supposed to be grieving.
“It's Harry,” Lt. White said on the other end. "How are things?"
"You know how they are and I don't like it."
"I don't believe you," Harry said. "But if you want, you can send her back."
"Do you have news?" Max asked.
“I got a call from Springer this morning. They found the truck.”
“What’s the word?” He tapped Madeleine to let her know there was news.
“No print matches yet, but it was stolen hours before the accident from a tech firm in Palo Alto called...Digiteknic.”
“Digiteknic.” There was that kick of adrenaline that came with feeling like the answers were coming together.
“Yes. I
t was some sort of moving van for transporting equipment,” Harry said.
“I know Digiteknic,” Max said.
“What do you know about it?”
“Well, I used to do business with it. It is a supplier of fiber optic and high tech materials. But, we developed some stricter guidelines for suppliers particularly in the area of environmental conservation and Digiteknic didn’t meet the standard, so we didn’t renew the contract.”
“Any backlash about that?”
“The President, Martin Shaffer complained that the guidelines made it difficult for small and medium sized companies to compete. I offered to help them through the Delecoeur Enterprise Foundation. Basically it’s a grant that they don’t have to repay to make earth-friendly changes.”
“Did they take you up on it?”
“Not so far.”
Madeleine whispered, “What about the heckler? He was mad and a corporate type.”
Max nodded towards her. “He has a son… Gavin.”
“What?” Harry asked.
“I was thinking about Madeleine’s heckler. She said he was young, but a corporate type. Maybe it was Martin’s son. He is being groomed to take over the business. Hold on just a second.”
Max grabbed his laptop from the side table. He pulled up the Digiteknic Corporate website and motioned for Madeleine. “Is that the heckler?”
“Yes!” Madeleine caught herself and lowered her voice. After all she was supposed to be dead. “Yes, that’s him,” she whispered.
“Have Springer’s men talk to Gavin Shaffer.”
“Will do,” Harry said.
“Also, you might want to look into Chas Newcomb.”
Madeleine’s eyes widened in surprise.
"I thought you said he was clean," Harry said.
"I thought he was, but he used to work for Digiteknic,” Max explained.
“Small world,” Madeleine whispered.
Max hung up with Lt. White. Progress was being made, but the contents of the manuscript still hovered at the edges of his mind. He forced himself to push it out of his head. He would confront Julia about it, but right now it was most important to find out who had tried to kill Madeleine, twice.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he told Madeleine.
“Okay. Want me to make breakfast?”