The Last Time I Saw You

by Liv Constantine

  Blaire was delighted by the admiring look on his face. The fiery red silk gown she’d picked up earlier at Octavia Boutique hugged her tall, slender frame. It was strapless, and her long dark hair brushed her bare shoulders. “Thank you.” She gave him a confident smile, determined to show him he had no effect on her anymore. It had been so many years since she’d seen him, but the memory of her humiliation came racing back with the force of a runaway train. She took a deep breath, pushing the past from her mind, composing herself.

  “Everyone will be so thrilled that you’re here. A celebrity guest. How exciting! My mother is one of your biggest fans,” Carter gushed. “She’s dying to see you.”

  Blaire’s eyebrows shot up. Really? His mother had wanted nothing more than for Blaire to be out of her precious son’s life all those years ago. Now she was dying to see her?

  “And I’ve read every one of your books,” he continued.

  “Carter,” Selby interrupted. “We have other guests arriving.”

  He slowly dropped Blaire’s hand, and Selby snatched his hand in hers. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m sure you can find your way around.”

  Blaire spotted Gordon and headed toward him, relieved to see someone she knew. Even in a tux, he managed to make a bow tie look silly—probably because his was light blue with bulls and bears on it. Was it supposed to be some sort of stock market witticism? It was no wonder he was still single.

  “Hey there,” she greeted him.

  “Blaire.” A curt nod in her direction.

  “Having a good time?”

  He shrugged. “These things are not really my cup of tea. Just here to support Kate and her foundation. Of course, it’s completely understandable why she didn’t come.”

  “I’ll be sure to let her know you were thinking of her,” Blaire said. “Listen, Gordon. I was hoping to meet with you about some investments. I’d like more diversification in my portfolio, and I’m a little dissatisfied with my financial manager.”

  His face became animated. She had his full attention now.

  “Is that so? I’d be happy to look at your portfolio. I think you’ll find our firm knows how to strike just the right balance between risk and security . . .”

  Blah, blah, blah. She tuned out the rest, impatient for him to wrap it up. Finally, he did, and she nodded.

  “Great. How about if I come by Sunday evening? Say around eight?”

  He frowned. “Evening? I’m not typically at the office quite that late. Can you meet during the day?”

  She tried her best to look regretful. “Sorry, but I’ve got interviews and PR obligations most of the week during business hours. I guess I’m spoiled, but my current guy has always worked around my schedule. One of the few things I like about him.”

  He put a hand up. “It’s not that I mind, but it’s a whole thing with the security system at the office that far after hours.”

  “How about if we meet at your house, then? After all, we’re old friends.” His shoulder jumped, and she wondered if it was a tic or just a reaction to her suggestion.

  “Well, yes, I guess that will work.” He looked reluctant, and she wondered if he had something to hide or just wasn’t used to guests.

  “Terrific.” She handed him a business card. “Email me the address, and I’ll see you there on Sunday.”

  She smiled. On Blaire’s list of suspects, thanks to his weird fixation on Kate, Gordon was number two—right after Simon, with his bullshit alibi.

  Glancing around the room, she noticed the woman she’d seen at the funeral luncheon, now chatting with an older man. Dressed in a backless black evening gown that clung to her slender frame, she looked stunning and very much at ease. Blaire wondered who had invited her. Once the man had moved away, she walked over and, giving the woman her best smile, held out her hand.

  “Hello, I’m Blaire Barrington.”

  The woman appraised Blaire for a minute before answering coolly, “Nice to meet you. Sabrina Mitchell.” If she recognized Blaire’s name, she hid it well.

  Blaire cocked her head. “Are you a friend of Kate’s?”

  Giving her hair a toss, Sabrina returned Blaire’s stare. “No, I’m actually an old family friend of Simon’s. I was hoping to see him tonight, but he just let me know that Kate couldn’t pull it together to come. I thought about bailing too, but I’d already bought a new dress, so . . .”

  Blaire looked at her in astonishment. “Her mother was murdered just seven days ago. I don’t think most people could ‘pull it together’ after something like that.” This chick had some nerve.

  Sabrina shrugged. “Well, it’s a charity event, and people bought tickets expecting to hear from her.”

  “I’m actually filling in for her tonight.”

  The woman regarded her carefully. “And who are you again?”

  Blaire wanted to slap her. “I’m one of Kate’s oldest friends.”

  “Really? I’ve never seen you at any of their parties.”

  “I live in New York. I’m an author.”

  Sabrina gave her a bored look. “Anything I would have heard of?”

  “The Megan Mahooney series. It’s on TV too.”

  Sabrina stared at her a long moment. “Oh yes, I have heard of that.” She shrugged. “I don’t really watch television. I find it a waste of time. And I read mostly literary fiction.”

  She was some piece of work. Blaire arched an eyebrow. “I love literary fiction too. Who are some of your favorite authors?”

  “Oh, you know, so many.”

  Blaire wasn’t budging. “Like who?”

  “Um, Virginia Woolf for one.”

  “Really? What’s your favorite book by her? I personally love Mrs. Calloway,” Blaire said.

  Sabrina nodded. “Yes, so do I. Well, if you’ll excuse me.” She walked away before Blaire could burst out laughing. What a little fraud. Mrs. “Calloway” indeed. Blaire would have to keep an eye on her.

  She decided to find her table and go over her notes for her speech, but before she could move, Carter cornered her. Blaire took in the faded blue eyes, the puffy face, and the buttons straining at his middle. It was hard to believe she’d once wanted to marry him. Harder still to believe he’d been able to make her feel like she was somehow less than he was when he ended it.

  “I was hoping we’d find a minute to catch up,” he said. “It’s been so long, but you look exactly the same.”

  You sure don’t, she felt like replying. When he smiled, his eyes practically disappeared into his pudgy face. “How sweet of you to say. You and Selby have turned this house into quite a showcase.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. It’s home.” He put a hand on her arm and continued, “I have to admit, I’m a bit awed. I loved your interview on Ellen. Who’d have thought one day you’d be in People magazine and doing interviews on television?”

  I’d have thought, she wanted to say. Instead she simply said, “Thank you. It’s a job.”

  “I’d say it’s more than a job. You’re like a superstar. My little Blaire, famous.”

  His little Blaire? He wished. There was no comparison between him and Daniel, and she wanted him to see that. “My husband is the real superstar.” She pulled out her phone and found a picture of Daniel and her in Florence and showed it to Carter—the two of them on the Ponte Vecchio, Daniel with his thick black hair and killer blue eyes and Blaire smiling, tucked against his side.

  “He looks like he could be in movies,” Carter said. “Both of you do.” The last part was clearly supposed to bring the conversation back to her, but she wasn’t letting him off that easily.

  Blaire smiled. “And he’s as talented as he is good-looking. Looks like we both got what we deserved.” She wondered if he really loved Selby, or if his was a marriage of convenience.

  “Do you have kids?” he asked.

  Blaire forced a smile. “Not yet.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Selby glaring at them. Giving Carter her best smile, she leane
d in and grabbed his hand. “I think it’s time for me to welcome everyone here. Shall we go?”

  “Um, yes,” he answered, gripping her hand tighter in his and leading her to the front of the room, where they’d set up a platform and microphone.

  “May I have your attention, please?”

  The room began to quiet.

  “I have the pleasure of introducing Blaire Barrington, international best-selling author and good friend.” His voice became somber. “As you know, Dr. English has had a death in the family and was unable to attend. Ms. Barrington has graciously agreed to speak tonight in her stead.”

  Blaire thanked him and took the mic. “It’s an honor to be here tonight. Kate asked me to convey her deepest appreciation to all of you for your generous support.” Blaire went through the acknowledgments Kate had given her, and then finished her speech with some stories praising Kate and her work on behalf of sick children. Twenty minutes later, she took her seat next to Elise, an old Mayfield chum who sent all four of her daughters to the school now. She could still pull off her preppy look because of her charm and youthful appearance, Blaire thought, smiling at her.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Blaire asked.

  “Yes, it’s a lovely affair. So sad that Kate had to miss it. Are you planning to bid on anything?”

  Picking up the brochure, Blaire looked it over. “Not sure yet. I’ll see what catches my eye after the auction starts. You?”

  “Maybe the Alaskan cruise. Whit and I could use a little getaway.”

  Soon the bidding began in earnest as trips, paintings, and other high-ticket items all went for double or triple their value. Finally, the biggest item came up—a golf trip to St Andrews in Scotland. Blaire sat back and watched in amusement as Selby and an older gentleman went at it. When Selby upped the bid another $500, he looked ready to quit but raised his number one more time and shouted, “Sixteen thousand.”

  Selby didn’t have the good grace to pause. Her hand flew up, and she yelled “Seventeen!”

  The man cocked an eyebrow and shook his head in resignation.

  Now it was Blaire’s moment. She winked at Elise and raised her paddle. “Twenty thousand.”

  There was a collective murmur of surprise, and then the room went quiet.

  Selby’s lips disappeared into a thin line, and she threw her arm up again. “Twenty-one.”

  Blaire could play this game all day. “Twenty-five.”

  Selby shook her head and gave Blaire a murderous look. “Thirty!”

  Blaire stood. Time to end this. “Fifty thousand dollars.”

  A ripple of shock went through the room. Carter put his hand on Selby’s arm and whispered something to her. She yanked it away and placed her bid paddle back on the table.

  The auctioneer looked back and forth between Selby and Blaire, cleared his throat, and then called out, “Fifty thousand going once . . . going twice . . . sold.”

  Damn, that felt good. Blaire remembered back to those times in high school when they’d be back from spring break and tell each other about where they’d gone—Gstaad or Tokyo or St. Barts. Blaire’s father would have taken them to Florida or some other equally boring destination, while her friends were jet-setting all over the world.

  Elise put a hand on Blaire’s arm and laughed. “You’re going to pay a lot more than fifty thousand for that little stunt.”

  “I’m not worried,” Blaire told her. No matter what she did, Selby would take issue with her, so why not have a little fun?

  “Does Daniel even play golf?”

  Blaire cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “He can always learn.”

  Carter announced that the silent auction was closing in half an hour, and everyone started milling around again. Blaire got up, wanting to check on a pair of pearl drop earrings and a framed lithograph she had bid on. She looked around the room and saw Selby whispering to Carter. She looked angry. Good, Blaire thought. As she scanned the room, she suddenly wondered if the killer could be there, and a chill ran up her spine. Blaire knew as well as any cop that some psychopaths got off on watching their victims. If the killer had in fact come, he might have made a hasty retreat when he saw that Kate wasn’t here. She’d ask Kate to have Selby give her a list of anyone who didn’t bid on the silent auction or who left before collecting their winnings. Or maybe he was still here. It could be anyone, really. The thought that a cold-blooded murderer could be standing inches away from her made her shudder again.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  ....................................

  9

  Kate woke up drenched in sweat. The familiar feeling of dread washed over her as she opened her eyes, and it was a herculean effort to sit up and get out of bed. A wave of nausea made her sink back down. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Rising, she plodded to the guest bathroom and turned the water on for the shower while she brushed her teeth. She had hardly slept all night, primed to hear the ping of her phone and another menacing text message. Simon had tried to convince her to leave her phone downstairs, but she wanted it next to her in case she had to call 9-1-1. What if someone cut the lines to their home phone? The latest twisted nursery rhyme played in her mind, and she struggled to find a clue in its words. It didn’t make any sense to her. Maybe someone was out for revenge. The police were going through the applications from patients who Children’s Heart Foundation hadn’t been able to help, but so far, they hadn’t mentioned anyone to her.

  After a quick shower in the guest bathroom, she went back to her bedroom and threw on a white cotton shirt over jeans. Blaire was on her way over, and Kate was hoping they might makes some progress today. Kate was coming down the stairs just as Blaire arrived, and she took her friend right to the living room.

  “Did you get any sleep?” Blaire asked.

  Kate shook her head. “No. I can’t stop thinking about these horrible texts . . . those dead animals.” She lowered her voice when Fleur, a slight woman with prematurely gray hair, walked in with a French press of hot coffee and two cups. They’d asked the staff to be on high alert, but she didn’t want Fleur to hear all the sordid details.

  “Thanks, Fleur.” Kate filled a cup and handed it to Blaire.

  “Mmm. Thanks.” She took a sip. “At least the police are monitoring them now.”

  Kate sighed. “For all the good it’s done. This person is shrewd. It’s like those stalkers you see on TV. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  Blaire squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s talk about something else.” Kate tucked one leg up underneath the other. “How did everything go last night?”

  “A huge success. Everyone missed you, though.”

  “I’m sure they were excited that you were there.”

  “Everyone was great, for the most part. I did meet someone last night who gave me pause, though,” Blaire said. “What’s the story with Sabrina, the woman who works for Simon?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Blaire arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t like the way she was looking at Simon at the funeral luncheon. And when I introduced myself to her last night, she made a very inappropriate comment about you bailing on your commitments, or something like that.”

  Kate frowned. “Are you kidding me?”

  Blaire shook her head. “No. And when I said you’d just lost your mother, she sort of breezed over it like it was no big deal. Said that she was hoping to see Simon, but he had to mollify you or something like that.”

  Kate felt the heat rise to her face. Why had Sabrina even gone the night before? “She’s been a problem. The truth is, Simon and I were separated before Mother was killed. In fact, he had just moved out.”

  Both of Blaire’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. What’s going on?”

  Kate shrugged. “We’ve been fighting about Sabrina. He swears there’s nothing going on between them, but she’s so . . . brazen. They have a long hist
ory together. He feels a loyalty to her because her father took him under his wing after Simon lost his own dad.” Kate sighed. “Simon insists that I’m blowing things way out of proportion.”

  Blaire put her hand on Kate’s arm. “Well, just watch your back.”

  “Believe me, I am.” Kate was gratified to know Blaire was not only looking out for her but validating her impressions of Sabrina as well. It reminded her of how strong their friendship had been once, how they’d been completely in sync.

  “Aside from her, so many people asked me to convey their good wishes to you and all the work you’re doing. You have a lot of fans.”

  Kate tried to put Sabrina out of her mind. “That’s nice to hear. Well, thanks again for going in my place. There’s no way I could have faced being there with all those people. I’d have felt too exposed.”

  “Oh, Kate. They’re going to get this person. And in the meantime, you’re safe here.”

  “But what if I’m not? What if I’m next? And then Annabelle won’t have a mother . . . or worse, what if they’re after her? I can’t lose her. Maybe this is all about me—take my mother, then my child.” Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

  Blaire put a hand up. “What-ifs are not your friend, remember?”

  “I know, I know, but I can’t help it. Someone is out there. Just waiting. Someone who’s already killed my mother.”

  Blaire gripped each of Kate’s forearms. “Look at me. Come on. Eyes.”

  Kate forced herself to breathe in and out and locked her eyes on Blaire’s.

  “What did we used to do?”

  “One, two, three, four, I don’t have to think it anymore.”

  “Five, six, seven, eight. Things get better when we wait,” Blaire finished.

  Kate gave her a weak smile. “Thanks.” This was a method Blaire had come up with to help Kate when they were teens.

  Blaire clasped Kate’s in hers. “We’re going to take care of this.”

  Just then they heard a commotion in the hallway and the sound of raised voices.