He turned to her with a chilling look, one she’d never forget, and then the door opened. She blinked at Maman and was heartened when her mother’s green eyes lit up with wonder.
“Nick! Veronique! What brings the two of you together?” Helene asked with a surprised smile.
“Hello, Miss Helene, I’ve brought your errant daughter,” Nick said, kissing Helene’s cheek.
“I’m so happy you did.” Helene beamed at Nick, and then held out her arms to Veronique. “I’ve missed you so much, ma ’tite cherie. Come, give me a hug.” Her slender arms enveloped Veronique, smelling of tuberose and gardenia, scents that transported her back to her childhood. Maman’s arms held her firmly, so different from long ago when she would barely give her a brief pat on the head before sending her off to bed with her nanny. Her affectionate greeting was a welcome surprise. She hadn’t seen Maman since Christmas when Veronique had left after a dumb argument. So dumb, she couldn’t even remember what they’d argued about.
“Thanks. I’ve missed you too,” Veronique said. “I don’t know why I let so much time go by without seeing you.” Truth was, she had avoided seeing her and Fred because she hadn’t wanted to deal with their cross-examination over her demotion at work.
“I have to leave. I’ll let you two get caught up,” Nick said, patting Helene’s shoulder.
Helene released Veronique and gave him a quizzical look. “Where are you going?”
“I’m meeting Fred at his office. I should be back in an hour. Don’t let Veronique out of your sight,” he said, walking down the hall. “Keep her here till I get back.”
Helene’s eyebrows shot up at his gruff order. “Why?” she called after him.
“She’s dangerous,” he said in a flat tone and left.
“Dangerous? You? Why did he say that?” Helene asked Veronique when he was out of earshot. Her arched brows knitted over incredulous eyes as she closed the door. “What did he mean?”
Veronique rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Don’t pay attention to him. Nick has a convoluted sense of humor,” she said, brushing it off so she wouldn’t harp on it. Nick thought she was untrustworthy and now he was calling her dangerous. It cut her to the quick, and also made her furious. Forcing herself to smile, she concentrated on her mother, not Nick, otherwise she’d scowl.
“Come sit beside me,” Helene said, walking toward the sofa.
Veronique perched on the edge of the Victorian sofa, feeling as fragile as the antique mahogany legs. “Did you watch the news today?” she asked, amazed that Maman had no idea what Nick was talking about. She was thankful that Fred hadn’t said a word to Helene about it. He was probably waiting to tell her tonight.
“Not yet. I was at the doctor’s office for my yearly checkup and it took most of the afternoon. Has something happened?” Helene asked, looking worried.
“No. I was just wondering.”
Helene leaned back and studied Veronique. “Where have you been all this time? In the tropics? You skin is so tanned and your hair is..well, it’s…” Her voice faltered as she grappled for words.
“Wild? Out of control?” Veronique prompted, self-consciously raking her fingers through her hair. She wouldn’t let her mother make her feel gauche, not today when she had more important things to contend with than how polished she looked. “I like it this way,” she said edgily. “Please don’t criticize me. Can’t we have a moment together without you judging what I’m wearing or how my hair looks?”
“I wasn’t doing that. I was just making an observation, cherie. That’s all,” Helene said mildly. She patted Veronique’s knee and smiled at her. “You look lovely and contrary to what you think, I’m very proud of you.”
“You are?” Veronique couldn’t hide her shock.
“Yes, you are a strong and fearless young woman—something I never was. In many ways you remind me of your Daddy. He had the same warm charisma that drew people.”
Maman’s kind words and sincere tone were a balm to her tattered feelings. “Thank you, that means the world to me. You know how much I adored Daddy.”
Helene nodded. “You and me both, cherie.”
She laid her soft hand on Veronique’s cheek and gazed into her eyes with curiosity. “Tell me…how did you and Nick come here together?”
Veronique drew in a calming breath. The mere mention of Nick upset her and the more she thought of it, the more incensed she became. How dare he treat her that way? “It’s a long story, and I’d rather not get into it.”
“Fine. We won’t talk about Nick, although...” Helene hesitated.
“Although what?” Veronique said uneasily. Did Maman know what had transpired between her and Nick? She couldn’t imagine Nick telling Fred intimate details of his private life.
“I was going to say, ‘although Fred and I think the world of him.’ We never believed he was guilty.”
“Neither did I. How are you feeling, Maman? You look great,” Veronique said, quickly changing the subject.
It was true; Maman looked different than she had over the holidays. More centered. She still had a smooth auburn bob and porcelain skin with very few wrinkles for a fifty-year-old woman, but her green, catlike eyes had softened with age. In her royal blue, sleeveless dress and muted gold Tory Burch ballerina flats, she looked elegant and casual at once.
“Have you been doing anything different?” Veronique asked.
“I’ve taken up yoga and it’s really helped with my mood swings,” Helene said. “At my age, my hormones are all over the place.”
“Oh.” It couldn’t only be the yoga; she seemed more at peace than ever. “How’s Fred?”
“He’s doing very well. Soon as he wraps up the case he’s working on, we’re going to Italy for a month.”
“That should be fun. Fred makes you happy, doesn’t he?”
Helene smiled. “Oh, yes. I don’t know what I would have done without him all these years. He’s my rock.”
“You’re lucky to have him. I admit I resented him for taking you away from me, but I realize now he’s a good man. I’m sorry I gave you so much grief growing up,” she said with an apologetic smile.
“It wasn’t entirely your fault. You rebelled because I wasn’t the best mother,” Helene said, looking down at her hands. “I was so wrapped up in coping with your Daddy’s problem, I left the child-raising to nannies and later to boarding school. Do you forgive me?” Her earnest eyes searched Veronique’s.
“I already have, Maman,” Veronique said, squeezing her hand gently. She wanted, needed, to make peace with her. She was done with past resentments. After Nick’s parting comment and experiencing that level of heart wrenching pain and loss, she could empathize with her mother. “I understand now. All these years I blamed you for enabling Daddy, but it wasn’t your fault. Daddy was a wonderful man, but he had a terrible addiction problem. I realize now that you loved him so much you couldn’t bear to leave him. That’s why you stood by him all those years.”
“I see you understand. Thank you, cherie.” Helene’s eyes welled up with tears and her voice quivered as she asked, “What brought this on?”
Veronique gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I grew up. I’m through judging others when I have room to talk.” If Maman only knew the depth of her love for Nick and the depth of her despair over losing him.
“May I have another hug? One wasn’t enough,” Helene said, opening her arms.
“Of course.” Veronique hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. A warm feeling of closure settled over her as she rose from the sofa. “I have to go now.”
Helene’s face fell. “So soon? You just got here. Won’t you stay for tea? With shortbread cookies?”
Veronique smiled. “Nothing has changed. You’ve been having Earl Grey tea with cookies since I was a little girl.”
Helene chuckled. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, but I can’t stay longer. I’ll come by next week to see you again.”
/> “Promise?”
“Promise,” Veronique said, meaning it.
“What will I tell Nick? He looked very stern when he told me not to let you out of my sight,” Helene fretted.
“Tell him I went home,” she said carelessly.
Helene looked doubtful. “I hope he doesn’t get angry. I’ve never seen him look so tense.”
“He’ll get over it,” Veronique said.
But she wouldn’t. She would never get over the heartbreak he’d caused her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daisy leaned back in Nick’s office chair and put her feet on his desk, a smug smile curling her lips as she fingered the wads of cash she’d found stashed in the top drawer. Pocket change, she thought smirking. She wouldn’t have to steal petty cash anymore. She was going to be very rich soon.
Finding Veronique’s files had been a Godsend! She’d already made a nice bundle selling her video and the silly picture of Nick. She’d reached out to all the media channels and gotten the highest bid for them. Then she’d turned her efforts to extorting Nick’s ex-wife, Elizabeth. When Elizabeth had balked, Daisy, pretending to be Veronique, had said, “I have stuff on your involvement with Nick’s foundation and it doesn’t make you look good. Know what I mean?”
Daisy had filled her in on the fat file of evidence and the ex-wife had wasted no time in arranging for a nice bundle of cash to be delivered to her near Nick’s house. She glanced at her watch. Six-thirty. In half an hour, she would meet Hector, Elizabeth’s “delivery man” at the corner of Begonia Way. She slid her hands over Nick’s desk wondering if he had allowed Veronique into his private quarters. Probably. And they’d probably done it on his desk too. She felt sick. She should have been the one having sex with Nick, not that stupid bitch. She couldn’t wait to bring her down. If Daisy couldn’t have Nick, Veronique wouldn’t have him either.
She wouldn’t let it upset her; there were better things to think about. Daisy’s newfound riches were intoxicatingly sweet—and so was her revenge. She got up and left the office, closing the door behind her. She had picked the lock earlier, laughing at how easy it had been and wishing she’d done it much sooner.
Intimately familiar with the order of things in Nick’s master bedroom and closet, she gave it a sweeping glance and then went straight to his king size bed. She pulled the Santería medal out of her pocket and stared at it, willing it to work. The medal of Chango, the Santería god of thunder who dominated and overcame enemies, was just what she needed to rid herself—and Nick—of the bitch. She slid the medal across the top of Nick’s bed from one edge to the other as she prayed fervently, “Chango, keep Veronique away from Nick. Get rid of her forever. Forever!” She kissed the medal and placed it under his mattress, feeling a surge of empowerment so strong, she shivered with excitement.
She ran to the guest room and opened all the drawers of the nightstand and dresser to see if Veronique had left anything behind. Good, they were empty. Maybe she didn’t need Chango’s help after all…maybe the bitch wasn’t coming back. With a stab of disappointment, she remembered Veronique hadn’t unpacked her suitcase while there. Of course the drawers would be empty. Her clothes had never been in them. The messy bitch had kept her stuff in a jumble and not even bothered to hang them up.
Daisy noticed the straw hat that Veronique had been wearing when she and Nick returned from the beach on the vanity counter. She stood in front of the mirror and twisted her long hair into a bun at the back of her head. She put the hat on and decided to keep it. It would be good for hiding her face when she met up with Elizabeth’s delivery guy. Putting on her dark sunglasses, she exited the house through the back door.
As she rounded the corner, she made her way toward the driveway, kicking at rocks along the way. She glanced at the afternoon sun, glad there wasn’t any rain to mar her perfect plan. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on her stash. Five more minutes and she’d be at the designated spot for the drop off. She was caught up in making plans with the millions she’d soon have when her foot caught on an exposed Banyan root and she tripped.
A sudden, piercing pain ripped into the tip of her left shoulder. It felt as if someone had pressed a lit torch to her skin. She glanced at her shoulder and screamed when she saw the gaping hole.
She’d been shot!
She gripped her shoulder as searing pain flooded her shoulder and blood spurted on her hand. Collapsing to the ground, she landed facedown, her mouth grappling with grass and leaves as she tried to call for help. The smell of her blood seeping in the dirt increased her panicked terror. Groaning in pain, she struggled to rise on her elbows, but she couldn’t summon enough strength as darkness closed over her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nick and Fred walked back to Fred’s apartment after their meeting as the sun set over the bustling city.
“I’m taking Helene to Marea tonight for dinner,” Fred said. “Care to join us?”
Nick checked his wristwatch. “No thanks. It’s already eight o’clock. Does Helene know about Ronnie’s video?”
“I doubt it. She was out all day at the doctor’s office. She said she was planning on taking a nap when she got home.”
“We must have interrupted her nap,” Nick said ruefully. “Well, she probably knows about it now. It’s all over the news.”
“That’s inevitable. You’ve been an enigma to the press for the past six months. Everyone’s been clamoring for your story.”
“Nobody’s getting it, not even your stepdaughter,” Nick said roughly. “If it wasn’t for the danger she’s in, I’d never see Ronnie again, but I’m going to pick her up and take her to my place for safekeeping until we contact the authorities about Elizabeth’s fraud.”
“That won’t be until after tomorrow’s meeting,” Fred said.
“I know.”
Fred ran his fingers through his coarse, short cropped salt and pepper hair. “Look, I know you’re angry, but try to be rational. I’ve known Ronnie since she was a kid. She might be impulsive and impossible to tame, but she’s not a self-serving person. Far from it.”
“Not impossible to tame.” Nick had tamed her into a soft, purring kitten in his arms. The memory of it, and her subsequent treachery, only added to his ire. “Just impossible to trust,” he said, the bitter taste of betrayal choking him.
Fred studied him with shrewd eyes. “You’re not thinking logically. If Ronnie had done it to further her career, she would have written a story. She’s a damn good journalist. Why would she deliver the tape like a lowly tabloid reporter?”
“We were the only ones in the house the whole week she was there,” Nick said through tight lips.
“Still…” Fred said, shaking his head. “A lot of weird things have been happening lately. Maybe someone broke into your house and stole her camera.”
“Nobody stole it. Her camera is in her purse. She said it was in her suitcase the whole time.”
“Give her the benefit of the doubt,” Fred said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “And don’t give up on her. She’s one in a million.”
“Whatever she did, I still intend on keeping her safe,” Nick muttered.
The moment they arrived at Fred’s apartment, Helene answered the door with a worried look.
“Where’s Ronnie?” Nick asked.
“She went home soon after you left. I couldn’t make her stay,” Helene said with an exasperated sigh. “You know how headstrong she is.”
“Unfortunately I do. I need to get going,” Nick said hurriedly. He kissed Helene’s cheek and raised a hand in farewell to Fred, exchanging a meaningful look with him.
* * *
When he left, Nick hailed a taxi straight away to Ronnie’s studio apartment. Every time he tried calling her it went to voice mail. Damn her! It was just like Ronnie to do what she wanted, when she wanted to. He cursed under his breath, a string of curses so vile, the taxi driver chuckled.
He bounded up the three flights of stairs to her studio apart
ment, two at a time. When he got to her door, he knocked on it repeatedly and called out, “Ronnie! Open the door.” He was out of patience and she was purposely making him wait outside, ignoring him like a stranger.
“You looking for Veronique?” A lanky, rumpled-looking teenager scratched his belly below his torn T shirt and eyed Nick with interest.
“Yes. Do you know her?” Nick said curtly.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was a little early for a teen to be sleepy. He was probably stoned. “Sure, man. She just left.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Nope, but she ran down the stairs like she was on fire.”
“Thanks,” Nick said and ran down like he was on fire too.
When he reached the bottom step, he checked the tracker on his phone and found Ronnie was in the Upper West Side. Thank God, he’d had the foresight to synchronize their phones so he could keep track of her. When he arrived at the destination, he stood outside the building and called her, but it went to voice mail.
“Damn it, quit playing games! I’m downstairs and I need to talk to you,” he said, leaving a terse message. Again.
* * *
Veronique sat in Natasha’s apartment with her heart in her throat. She loved going to Natasha’s place and being in a Broadway performer’s digs. It was beautifully decorated in soft cream and apricot colors with a mix of modern and antique furniture, and she always had great music playing in the background.
“I’m glad you came over, Ronnie. What happened?” Natasha’s clear blue eyes anxiously searched Veronique’s face. “You were crying so hard I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”
Natasha’s velvety voice was like a salve on Veronique’s frayed feelings. Anyone who heard her speak knew without a doubt that her singing voice had to be extraordinary, and it was. She was a born nurturer, always wanting to make others feel good, especially through her performances. Onstage, she was dazzling, captivating the audience to forget the daily grind and be swept away.
Veronique wiped her eyes and sighed heavily. “Sorry about that. I’ve been on the worst crying jag since I got here…because of Slinky. Thanks for putting me up tonight. I packed up her stuff in a box, but every time I looked around, I could see her in all her favorite places and…and I just lost it.”
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