by SUE FINEMAN
His house came into view and he eased back on the throttle. “Are you afraid to go back alone?”
“Terrified. What if you’re right? What if someone in the house is working for Lance? What if he’s convinced my household staff to help him?”
Who knew what she’d walk into down there. She needed someone to watch out for her. A friend. Someone who didn’t give a shit about her money. She needed him.
Nick eased the boat up to the dock and Cara jumped off with the line to tie up.
After they secured the boat, he said, “I guess I can wait another week or so to find a job.” So his house payment would be late. So what? He’d blame it on the earthquake.
He watched her walk up to the house. Her limp was gone and her right arm moved freely. He knew her shoulder was still sore, but she had, for the most part, recovered. Now she had another ordeal to get through, and this one could be worse than the last. She wouldn’t have to go through it alone.
The friend she trusted would be there.
Cara walked through the door of Nick’s house. This little house felt more like home than home, but it wasn’t the house. It was the man who owned it. This man she’d only known a few days had turned into her best friend. He believed in her like no one else. Did he have any idea how much that meant to her?
She reached out for a hug and stepped into his arms, soaking up his affection. His big hands held her gently, giving her the comfort she hadn’t had since she was thirteen. With her head resting on his shoulder, she sighed and relaxed. No place in the world felt as safe and comfortable as Nick’s arms.
She gave him a light kiss on the lips and pulled away. He held her hand and gazed into her eyes with such intensity she thought he’d kiss her again, but he didn’t. Just as well. If he gave her a real kiss, she’d probably never let go.
While Cara made a salad, Nick grilled salmon for dinner. It looked wonderful, but when they sat down to eat, she said, “I’m not very hungry.”
“Worried about your husband?”
“I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out what I’m doing. He’s used to getting what he wants. He probably thinks that because he married me, he’s earned the right to take control.” Before they married, Lance had been gentle and even tempered, but that changed as soon as they got to Seattle. He had a vicious temper. One time someone cut him off in traffic, and she thought he’d ram into them. The incident had frightened her.
“To hell with him. Come on, eat your dinner. This fish is too expensive to waste.”
She ate a bite of fish. “Mmm, this is good.”
“Of course it is. I cooked it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are definitely not modest.”
His eyes sparkled. “Of course not. I’m Italian.”
She laughed with delight. Nick’s casual manner and teasing put her at ease. She’d never felt as comfortable with anyone, man or woman. He treated her like a real person instead of a source of money.
Cara ate a little more and pushed her plate aside. “I wonder if his girlfriend is with him now that I’m gone.”
He stabbed his fork in the air. “I’ll bet she’s either in Seattle or at your house in California.” Nick finished his dinner and then ate the salmon on her plate.
Cara sat quietly for a few minutes, her mind on the staff. Mr. Pettibone knew everyone. He knew what they all did, how much they were paid, and how long they’d been there. Mr. and Mrs. Corinth had been hired by the trustees, so she assumed they were paid by the trustees. The others were paid from the household budget controlled by Mr. Pettibone. He was the man in charge, and he prided himself on his discretion.
As Nick cleaned up the kitchen, Cara walked outside and called her own home in California. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Pettibone, please.”
“May I ask who’s calling,” said a woman whose voice Cara didn’t recognize.
“Maxine. This is a personal call.”
She waited, wondering what was taking so long, then realized the staff didn’t consider this call important. Mr. Pettibone probably didn’t either, because he didn’t recognize the name. After several minutes, he came on the line.
“Mr. Pettibone, this is Cara Andrews. Please don’t let anyone know it’s me calling. I have a big favor to ask of you, but I don’t want anyone to know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, of course.”
Cara paced on Nick’s deck while she talked. “I’d like a list of the names of the staff. I want to know how long they’ve been there, how much money they make, and what their primary duties are. Not everything, just the high points.”
“When?”
“I’ll be there one day next week. I’m trusting you not to speak of this to anyone—not the staff or the trustees, and especially not my husband. Trust no one, Mr. Pettibone.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m coming. I’ll use the name Maxine when I call.”
“You want it all, then?”
“Everyone who works on the grounds or in the house, including security. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pettibone. I can always count on you.” She closed her phone, knowing she’d just taken a giant step toward taking control of her life.
Nick stood in the doorway. “What the hell was that about?”
“Mr. Pettibone runs my house.” She walked inside with Nick and sat at the bar while he filled two bowls with ice cream.
“You were right, Nick. I should know what those people do in my home.”
Pointing her spoon at the smug, self-satisfied smile on his face, Cara said, “Don’t gloat. I hate it when people gloat.”
He scooped a bite of ice cream from her bowl. “Did your husband bring anyone with him, like a secretary or assistant?”
“Not that I know of. If they’re in the house, Mr. Pettibone will know.”
“Why don’t you have him issue a statement to the press on your behalf? He can say you’re visiting a sick friend or something, and that your husband knows where you are.”
“Nick, that’s a wonderful idea. It’ll make Lance look like the liar he is. You’re brilliant!”
He turned to face her. “And you’re just now realizing that?”
She wrapped her arms around Nick in a friendly hug, but the way he held her it felt more than friendly. His big hands held her tenderly, almost lovingly against his warm body, as he nuzzled into her hair. She drank it in, absorbing his strength and affection, knowing without a doubt that this man would never harm her. She’d once thought sex was as intimate as two people could get, but she was wrong. This was more intimate, more loving than anything she’d ever felt with Lance.
Nick pulled back, took her face in his hands, and kissed her forehead. She wished he’d move those lips down a few inches and give her a real kiss.
Chapter Six
Friday morning, Gerry called Cara with information about her husband. “Cara, the private investigator found your husband’s girlfriend. Sally Jane McCullough. Do you know her?”
“The name doesn’t sound familiar.”
“She works in your home in California.”
So Nick was right. “Since when?”
“Since right after you returned from your honeymoon. She’s supposed to be your husband’s assistant.”
“How long did he know her before that?”
“About two years. His real name is Michael Lance.”
“He lied to me about his name?” This shouldn’t surprise her, but it did.
“Apparently, Lance has used several names over the past few years. The real Lance Berkshire was a cousin who was killed in a car accident years ago. Your husband borrowed his name and Social Security number.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Probably to hide his criminal past.”
Cara could barely speak the words, “Criminal past?”
“Petty stuff, nothing violent, or at least nothing we could find
. There’s a tie-in with your guardians, too. They’re Sally’s aunt and uncle.”
“Oh, God.” Cara squeezed her eyes closed. Were her guardians part of Lance and Sally’s scheme? They’d always treated her with contempt, but she never thought they’d go this far.
“Gerry, I’m going to California in a few days. I’d like you to come with me, if you can get away. I could use your help when I meet with the trustees.”
“I’ll be glad to come along, Cara. Would you like my secretary to make the travel arrangements?”
“If she would, yes. Have her charter a small jet for Wednesday morning. Is there a way we can be sure Lance isn’t there before we leave?” Bad enough she had to face Sally. She wasn’t ready to confront Lance Berkshire or Michael Lance or whoever he was pretending to be this month.
“We have someone watching Lance. We’ll know the minute he leaves Seattle.”
She sighed with relief and looked up at Nick. He winked and her lips tugged into a smile. She’d come to rely on him for so much.
Gerry asked, “Do you want to fly into San Francisco?”
“No, I have an airstrip on the property.”
“Do you also have your own plane?”
“Yes, but I don’t want anyone to know where I am.”
“He’ll find out eventually.”
“I know that, Gerry.” But not yet. She couldn’t fight him now. With any luck, Gerry could dissolve her marriage quickly and she’d never have to set eyes on Lance’s lying face again.
Cara finished her call and sat staring at the phone. She felt a strong urge to start running and never look back, but that wouldn’t solve anything. Lance and Sally would squander all her grandfather’s hard-earned money and her guardians would continue to live at the estate. She had to rid herself of the leeches in her life or she’d never be free.
Nick sat on the arm of the sofa beside her. “Is Gerry going with you?”
She twisted to look into Nick’s eyes. “Yes, but he’s my attorney, not my friend. I need you, Nick.” As she spoke the words, she knew she needed him for more than the trip to California. She needed his friendship and his strength.
It took him several seconds to answer simply, “I know.”
Nick finished putting the new name on the boat and stood back to admire his work. Maxine. It was a great boat, a whole lot nicer than the one he’d owned before. Max and Company didn’t need a boat. He knew damn well that Cara had bought it for him. It was her way of thanking him, a considerate, generous thing for her to do.
Gerry’s phone call that morning had her tied in knots, and her husband had her scared half to death. Nick wanted to smash the guy’s pretty face in, but that wouldn’t help Cara rise above her fear. She had to face those demons herself and deny Lance the power he held over her. She said Lance was driving her car when she left. Time to take it back.
Nick walked up to the house and called, “Hey, Cara, do you want your car back?”
She walked out of the bedroom. “Yes, of course I do.”
“Then let’s go get it.”
The color drained from her face. “Oh, no. If I have to see Lance now, I’ll—”
“You won’t have to see him.” He explained his plan and watched her face light up. In seconds, her smile turned into a full, throaty laugh. He wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless. Couldn’t she see what she was doing to him?
“I love the way your mind works, Nick.”
If she knew what he was thinking, she wouldn’t say that. Every day he spent with her, every time she smiled at him, Nick felt himself growing closer to her. He struggled to keep his hands off her, afraid he’d take advantage of her and betray her trust. If he pushed her into having sex, it could ruin their friendship, and right now she needed a friend more than she needed a lover.
Nick cleared his throat and concentrated on her husband. “Where’s he getting the money to pay informers and run all over the country looking for you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think the accountant would release money to him without my approval, but who knows.” She lifted her hands in a shrug and dropped them in her lap.
“Credit cards?”
She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand and groaned. “That’s what I forgot to do. Cancel his credit cards.”
She pulled four cards from her purse and Nick took them from her hand. “Let Gerry take care of it.”
“Better coordinate this scheme of yours to get the car with him, too, Nick. I have enough trouble already without doing something illegal.”
Nick didn’t want to do anything against the law either, but if Lance put one finger on Cara’s curly head, the bastard would be history. Nobody was going to hurt her again, not if he had anything to say about it.
<>
Saturday morning, Cara boarded the boat with Nick. Tony and Angelo picked them up at the dock in Gig Harbor, and Tony drove to Seattle while Nick sat in the backseat with Cara.
After Nick spoke with Paul Rosenberg, the private investigator, on Cara’s cell phone, he told the others, “Paul is watching the house. Lance is still there, and the limo is due in fifteen minutes.”
“Too bad we can’t just cream the guy,” said Tony. “I want to punch his lights out.”
“Not this time, Tony.” Lance had a temper, and Cara didn’t want Nick and his cousins to get hurt. She leaned forward and rubbed Tony’s shoulder. “Let’s get what we came for and get out quickly, so he can’t identify you.”
Angelo held up a pair of surgical gloves. “We won’t leave fingerprints this way.”
Cara burst out laughing. “You guys have been watching too much television.”
<>
Lance whistled and admired his physique in the mirror. The black silk T-shirt he’d chosen to wear for his meeting with Cara outlined the well-developed muscles in his arms and chest. He smiled and ran the brush through his hair. No doubt about it. One look at him and Cara would run right back home. Flowers and a little sweet talk wouldn’t hurt. He’d been talking himself around women for years, and Cara was the most gullible of them all. So she heard him on the phone with Sally. So what? He’d tell her he was practicing his lines for a play. She loved him so much she’d believe anything he told her. He admired himself in the mirror. What’s not to love?
He wondered why she was sending a limo for him instead of meeting here at the house, but it didn’t matter where they met. Her note said she missed him and wanted to surprise him, and Cara’s surprises always involved expensive gifts. It might be awkward at first, but she’d come around. She always did. By tonight, they’d be back home together, talking about building a ‘family.’ He laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the tiled bathroom. As if he intended to build a ‘family’ with anyone. He’d taken care of that little problem before he got involved with the woman in San Diego. Kids would cramp his style.
<>
Cara directed Tony to the house, and Nick was on the phone again. He said, “Don’t get too close, Tony. Paul says the limo just arrived.”
Tony pulled up to the curb across the street and two houses down, close enough for them to see Lance get into the limo. It was close enough to suit Cara. Her stomach turned at the sight of the man who threatened to take away her freedom. “I can’t believe he’s going along with this secret rendezvous, Nick. By now, he must know I’m onto him.”
“He thinks you still love him and want to get back together. And we kinda hinted you’d have something to give him.”
“Something, as in money or an expensive gift?”
Nick shrugged. “A surprise.”
“Oh, he’ll be surprised all right.” And he’d be livid.
The limo pulled away, with Paul’s car right behind it. Cara took a deep breath to bolster her courage. The men pulled gloves on before they left the car and they all started walking toward the house. And then the cell phone rang. Nick answered it and slammed it closed. “Aw, shit! Back in the car, guys. Hurry.”
Tony fumbled with th
e lock and Cara ducked into the backseat as the limo returned to the house. Her heart pounded with fear. Nick sat beside her, his arm around her, while Tony and Angelo stood on the sidewalk, engrossed in an animated conversation about nothing. Did Italians know how to talk without using their hands?
Cara watched Lance run in the house and return seconds later carrying a florist box. “Flowers?” she whispered. “He bought me flowers?”
“Looks that way,” said Nick. “There they go.”
Cara hung back, apprehension eating at her. Should they go through with this or forget it and go home? What if Lance came back? “Where’s the limo taking him?”
“To a hotel near the airport,” said Nick. “I figure a half-hour to get there. We should have plenty of time.”
“If he doesn’t catch on first.” Lance was money-hungry, not stupid.
After Paul called to say they were on the freeway, Cara relaxed a little and walked up to the house with Nick and his cousins. “I hope he hasn’t changed the alarm code.” She unlocked the door and punched in the numbers. The alarm turned off and she breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Cara yanked her clothes out of the closets and drawers and stuffed them in suitcases and grocery bags from the kitchen. Tony and Angelo carried them out to Tony’s car while she and Nick grabbed her jewelry, two priceless paintings she’d brought from the estate in California, and a few other little things. She and Nick took them to her car.
The cell phone rang. Cara exchanged a wide-eyed look with Nick before he answered it and groaned. “Damn! He’s on his way back. We have five minutes tops.”
She put the paintings she’d wrapped in a blanket in the trunk of her Jag while Nick signaled Tony and Angelo to leave. As she backed out of the garage, the limo pulled up to the house. Cara turned so cold her fingers felt numb.
Nick jumped in beside her. “Go!”
Lance stepped out of the limo and it pulled away before he spotted Cara’s car. He ran toward the garage as she backed out of the driveway. Cara fought the panic rising inside her. “Nick, he’ll follow us.”
“Not with a flat tire.”
She drove down the street, and Nick craned his head around. “He’s not going anywhere without changing that tire.” He folded his pocket knife, the same knife he’d used to cut off Cara’s hair, and slipped it into his pocket.