Almost Always: A Love Unexpected Novel

by Adams, Alissa

  Kason joined us at the table. He had a piece of paper in his hand that Archie had given him.

  "This is your list of people who know your wife's nickname. I know you've been over this somewhat, but I'd like to go over the list again."

  "I appreciate your efforts, Kason, but I explained more than once that only our family and closest friends would call Marjorie 'Jazzy'. There has to be some mistake. Maybe George misheard something."

  "Don, George has a heavy accent, but his hearing is perfect. I want you to consider the possibility that the kidnapping is not related to the union problem. Maybe someone is using the union issue as a convenient cover."

  My father looked confused.

  "Dad, how many people on that list know about Kason and me?" Difficult as it was to accept, I was forcing myself to consider the possibility that Kason wasn't just being paranoid. Dad looked at the list, but it was clear he was having trouble focusing. "This is important," I persisted.

  "Honestly, I can't remember discussing the two of you with anybody. Why would I? I just met Kason. You know I haven't time for gossip, even about you, Honey. I don't mean any disrespect to either of you, but until there's a ring on someone's finger . . . "

  Kason smiled a little at that remark. "I completely understand. What about your wife?"

  "I can't speak for her. She might have told any number of the hens she hangs around with. Why is this so important?"

  "Because I think that it is very possible, I would say even likely, that someone abducted Marjorie to extort money from me. Your trouble with the unions would be the obvious rationale for the kidnapping and throw any investigation well off the scent."

  "If they hadn't used Mom's nickname . . . "

  "Why you, Kason? Who the hell are you? I've never even heard of you."

  "It doesn't surprise me. I'm not a very public figure."

  "Dad, Kason is extremely . . . wealthy . . . and well connected," I motioned to the group in the corner of the living room. "As you have seen."

  "So . . . " my father spoke slowly, "your theory is that someone my wife spoke to connected the dots and used my union troubles as an opportunity to grab Marjorie?"

  "What else would explain the 'Jazzy'?" Kason asked.

  "Lemme see that list again."

  Twenty two

  By ten that night, I had broken my rule about no coffee after noon. Dad, Archie, Taishi, George, one of the FBI guys and I were all sitting at the table. We had managed to cross off most of the names on the list. Family members were the first to go. Most of them hadn't seen Mom and Dad since the whole drama began anyway.

  By midnight we had come up with a short list. It was a distressing process. The short list had some of my parents' oldest and dearest friends on it. We were all exhausted when Archie and the FBI agent went to catch a little rest before they started quietly investigating. Meanwhile, we all waited for the call that would take us to the next step. When were we going to find out what the kidnappers wanted?

  Dad leadenly crawled up the stairs when we decided there wasn't going to be a call that night. Taishi and George went down stairs to snooze while Hoc, the third bodyguard took up a watch on the steps. Kason didn't really think we were going to see any trouble, but wasn't taking any chances.

  "Let's get some sleep, too," I told him as I took his hand and led him up the stairs. "It's only a few hours until sunrise. You have to be as exhausted as I am."

  "Someone needs to take the call."

  "Kason, I have Mom's cell, Dad's cell and you have yours. We'll put them all on the nightstand." Even though he looked like he wanted to argue with me, I could see the glaze of fatigue all over his face. I led him to my old room and opened the door.

  It was pretty much the way I'd left it when I went off to college. Mercifully, I had gotten rid of the most embarrassing reminders of my teenage years, but the room still reeked of youthful innocence. Kason grinned with delight when he took a look around.

  I was never much for stuffed animals, but I loved my American Girl collection. The dolls still occupied an entire shelf above my dresser. On top of the dresser was my jewelry box. Kason opened the white wooden lid and up popped the ballerina who still danced to the Nutcracker Suite. He fingered a couple of the trinkets inside—a heart shaped rainbow colored pendant, a broken silver bracelet, a key ring with a monkey hanging from it.

  He placed them all back inside and gently closed the lid. "You spent a happy childhood in this room, didn't you?"

  "Yes, I did. I never felt deprived of anything."

  "I felt deprived of everything." He sat down on the well-loved quilt my grandmother had made long before I was born and stroked his hand across the faded squares. "My bedroom looked more like a hotel than a kid's room, at least after we moved into the city. A lot of my stuff got left behind. At the time, I didn't care and I think my father was just as happy not to be reminded of our life with my mother."

  I took off his shoes and put them beside the bed. Then I gently pushed him back against the pillows. The double bed seemed terribly intimate after spending nights with him on board his plane and boat with their giant mattresses. He scooted over and made as much room for me as he could and I crawled in beside him. We lay there fully clothed and shifted into a spooned position, my back to his front.

  I heard him sigh and remembered his caustic comment about his "delicate, damaged soul" on the way to Carcassone. Sarcastic, yes. But also true. He'd lost the two women he had loved most in the world. As I felt his body relax against me I told myself that I would do anything I could to make sure that he didn't lose me.

  ***

  My mother's cell phone rang at 6:30. Kason and I both became instantly alert.

  "Answer it."

  I pressed the button to answer the call and held my breath. "Hello?"

  "It's me, sweetie." I was thrilled to hear my mother's voice even if she sounded ragged and scared. "I'm okay. Tell your father I'm okay." Then another voice came on the phone. I held the phone so that Kason could also hear what was being said.

  "No harm will come to her if you follow my instructions to the letter."

  "What do you want?" I couldn't help but sound belligerent.

  "You listen. I talk. One million, cash, circulated, non sequential $100 bills. Get it together and you'll get your instructions in 24 hours." Click.

  I dropped the phone into my lap. Dad was standing at the door. He must have been sleeping with one ear straining like we were and heard the phone. Kason had been right, after all. I had pretty much come to that conclusion anyway. It wasn't about the union at all. It was about Kason and his money.

  Kason stood up and walked over to the window. "I'm so sorry, Don, Annalise. I've brought trouble to your family. I can't begin to tell you . . . I can't believe I allowed this to happen."

  "You couldn't possibly have known," my father replied. But of course, I knew better. Kason did know what kinds of things happen to billionaires and the people they care about. I felt chilled thinking about it. What kind of life would it be to have to look over your shoulder all the time? Much as I cared for him, was I willing to risk not just my safety, but that of the people I loved the most to be part of his life?

  What about the future? What if we did move forward and made a life together? What about children? How did the very rich stand it? In an instant, I knew that my fantasies about Kason were never going to become reality. How could I subject myself, my family and even my yet to be born children to a life of bodyguards and precautions, security systems and stealth?

  It was all too much to think about. My mother was the focus of the moment. Not tomorrow, not yesterday. I summoned up all the strength inside me and turned my attention to the only thing that mattered. "Kason, what's the next step?"

  ***

  All sorts of uniformed and plain clothes folks had gathered at our kitchen table by eight o'clock. The general consensus was that there would be no contact for 24 hours, just as the voice on the phone had said. Other than gett
ing the cash together, there wasn't much that their combined investigative power could do. A quick check of the cell phone indicated that the call had come from one of those pay as you go mobile phones, now likely at the bottom of the Hudson River.

  "These phones are a criminal's best friend. Used to be we could check phone records, and even if a perp used a public phone the location would give us something to go on. With these disposable phones, we got bupkis." The detective shook his head sadly. "I hate waiting."

  I hated waiting, too. By nine, the house had cleared out pretty much. Just Dad, Kason, the three bodyguards and I remained. Kason had been on the phone, presumably to his banks, to arrange for the cash.

  "If they were real pros, they'd have asked for a lot more and by wire transfer." Archie had remarked on his way out the door.

  Of course, to me, a million sounded like a hell of a lot of money. Kason didn't even bother to discuss that part. His biggest concern was having to wait 24 hours and his worry about my mother during that time.

  My father was pacing like a caged animal. He announced that he was going to work because he had to "get the hell outside" and do something physical or he'd lose his mind. Hoc had taken the night shift, so George made a move to follow my father.

  "Forget about it, George. I don't need watching. They've already got Marjorie. What more can they do to me?" No one was ready to argue with his logic so Dad took off down the block toward the subway by himself.

  The three Laotian men disappeared downstairs. I could hear their sing-song-y rhythm of their language faintly through the kitchen floor.

  "Would you like to get out of here, too?" Kason asked me. "We could go into town . . . I don't know. I could show you my apartment. We've got time to kill. Anything you want—just say the word."

  There simply wasn't anything I could do for either of my parents at that moment. There was a waiting game to be played and, tough as it was, we all had to play it. I could spend the day pacing or I could go for distraction.

  I was dying to see where Kason lived, anyway. He had told me that the place in the Berkshires 'wasn't him' and I was hoping that I would get the chance to see a place that really reflected his style. "I'd like to see your place. Where is it?"

  "Manhattan."

  "That much I knew. Where in Manhattan?"

  "Uh-uh. I'm going to surprise you."

  Twenty three

  When Taishi pulled the car up in front of the Dakota, I nearly fainted. Home to celebrities and the mega wealthy, the historic old building was notoriously hard to get into. The rejected prospective tenant list reads like a Hollywood red carpet roll call.

  The Dakota is a beautiful building. A lot of people say it looks creepy or haunted, but I disagree. I was trying hard not to appear awestruck when we crossed the lobby. The chandeliers, the dark wood, the rich carpets and wingback chairs all screamed old money and class.

  When the elevator doors shut, Kason wrapped his arms around me and claimed my mouth with a savage kiss. "I will make this right for us, Annalise. I promise you." The old elegant elevator lumbered slowly to his floor. I wasn't in a hurry. His mouth and mine passed the time well enough.

  The doors slid open and we crossed into his apartment. In spite of the fact that I was utterly ready for whatever he had in store for me, I had to gasp at the beautiful interior. It was blended elegance with a vengeance. The inlaid wood floors were strewn with oriental rugs and everything was done in rich shades of burgundy, blue and gold. Antiques, Chinese vases, crystal lamps, modern overstuffed couches and striking Impressionistic paintings all melded together into a harmonious and surprisingly comfortable looking whole.

  "This is a beautiful apartment. Did you do this yourself?"

  "Yes, I did. It's my refuge." He put his hand against a particularly delicate blue and white vase on the hall table. "Some of these things are from our old house."

  I knew now, more than ever, why Kason felt he needed a refuge. After living through the last few days I felt like I needed one, too. Once again I felt a chill shudder cross my shoulders when I considered the vigilance required in his lifestyle. He saw my body language, but mistook the source. His strong arms gathered me close to him.

  "Make love with me. Find your way so close to me that everything disappears but you and I for as long as we can make it last."

  I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew I should be drawing back, not growing closer. But he had said 'make love'. The word had been spoken. Out loud.

  He didn't give me any time for an internal argument. Gathering me in his arms, he kissed me with a compelling, passionate kiss that possessed me completely.

  I laced my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in the waves that spilled over his collar. He bent and put one strong arm under my knees and another one at my back and pulled me off my feet. As he carried me through the living room and into the opulent bedroom, I couldn't help but think that someday I'd love to be carried this way as his bride. I filed that thought in the "don't go there" file, determined to enjoy the here and now knowing this could well be the last time.

  ***

  We rummaged around in the kitchen for something snack on. It was lunchtime but neither one of us felt like going anywhere. For one thing, we didn't want to put any clothes on. I loved the idea of padding around Kason's amazing apartment buck naked. He had introduced me to the joy of nudity. No matter what happened to 'us', I'd probably spend the rest of my life seeking new ways to shed my clothes.

  I kept looking anxiously at the collection of cell phones that we carried from room to room. Kason peered from behind the door of the refrigerator and caught me.

  "We have done everything we can. I know you heard everyone agree that if the kidnappers said they'd call in 24 hours, that's when they'll call. My bank is gathering the money and I'll have it before they close today."

  "It just seems so wrong to be . . . well, enjoying myself so much when Mom is being held hostage."

  "I understand. But, you know something? I can't think of anything we could have done that would have made more sense." He walked toward me across the kitchen and held me against him. "Is there anything more comforting?"

  I pressed my cheek against his warm, bare chest and listened to his heart beat as he stroked my hair. "I'm scared, Kason. Very scared."

  "Of course you are. But your mother is going to be fine. Archie was absolutely right about this being an amateur job. Now that I'm sure it's not the union behind the abduction the more confident I am that we're going to come out on top."

  "It isn't just about Mom. I believe you. I think she's going to be okay."

  "What else is it about then?"

  "I'm afraid to tell you."

  "Look, I know I can be intimidating, but if something is frightening you, I want to know about it."

  "Kason, I'm not sure I can do this."

  "Do what?"

  "Us. I'm not sure I can deal with a lot of things about us."

  "Is this really the right time, Annalise?" He tilted my chin up to his face and crushed his mouth against mine. I wondered if it was possible to quell the reaction my body instantly had to his touch. "I need to feel you near me today. I want your closeness. I want to fold you in my arms and never let you go."

  It did make sense. I had a very bad habit, according to people who knew me best, of picking the worst possible moment to bring something important up.

  "Will there ever be a 'right' time, Kason?"

  "Yes, there will be. I promise you that."

  A promise. Well, I liked the sound of that. "Then," I decided to be bold and go for it. If he wanted to get all pissed off and ridiculous, now was as good a time as any to find out. "I expect you to keep that promise."

  "You can count on it."

  Twenty four

  We were back in my parent's house by sunset. We both felt that Dad should have company for dinner and we could all be there in the morning when the phone finally, mercifully rang.

  Dad didn't have much of an appetit
e for the delicious Italian meal we ordered in from Delmonico's. "C'mon, Daddy, it's your favorite," I urged him to eat. He had always been hugely complimentary any time we had their food.

  "I have a confession to make," he said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "I've never really liked this stuff that much."

  "But you've always said it was the best!"

  "That was for your mother's sake. She loves a good Italian meal and I know how much work goes into one. All these years I've been telling her how much I love Delmonico's just to give her a break. To tell you the honest truth, your mother's lasagna is a million times better than this stuff."

  Kason snorted with understanding laughter. "True love," he said.

  My father sighed. "The greatest gift a man can ever have. My biggest wish for all three of my girls has always been that they find a man who adores them and treasures them as I have their mother."

  "That's a wonderful thing to say, Daddy. You and Mom are very lucky."

  "There's more to it than luck, Angelcakes. There's a lot more to it."

  I thought of the sacrifices, the compromises, the highs and lows, the pregnancies and the children, the hours of work it took to raise and support us, the endless nights my parents climbed the stairs to bed hand in hand. I thought about how they had built family traditions for us and taught us how to be good people. I marveled at their patience with us when we tested them. I remembered their pride in us as each little success built our confidence and their sympathy as the inevitable defeats built our strength.

  Then I thought of Kason, cut off from all of that so early. Left to his own devices for so long. As I cleared away the plates and leftovers, I wondered if that kind permanent scars that depravation left. He knew virtually nothing of family after his mother died. How would that affect him if he ever decided to have children? Or was he completely serious when he said he wanted nothing to do with parenthood?