ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle

by Patrice Wilton

  “Forget the girl. What about the boat? If its David’s, I think we just found your money.”

  “The Cayman Islands.” Maddi’s voice raised an octave higher. “Good Times Ahead. We’ll just see about that.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next morning Maddi called her attorney, Carrie Phillips, and updated her on the latest information. Then she had a full day at the salon—highlights, a cut and blow, manicure and pedicure, and a massage. She even went so far as to have a Botox treatment to get rid of the fine lines caused, no doubt, by David’s deception.

  It was late afternoon when Maddi visited the bank where she and David had had their accounts for the past ten years. It was at a strip mall on Harrison Street, a mile from their home.

  “Hi, Maddi.” The teller, a tall, redheaded, full-figured lady named Susan, greeted her with a friendly smile. “Wow, you look great. What did you do to yourself?”

  Running her fingers through her sunny-blonde hair, Maddi grinned. “Fabulous, isn’t it? Lightened it, shortened it, don’t have to do anything with it.”

  Susan nodded. “Makes you look like a teenager.” She got back to business. “So what can I do for you today?”

  “I’d like to check our money market account.” Maddi handed her an old statement, the only one she could find. “It’s the college fund for Nicole.”

  Susan’s manicured nails flew over the computer keypad. She frowned. “Maddi? This is strange. Your account is closed. Surely, you must remember closing it?”

  Maddi clutched the counter top. “No, no. You must be wrong. Nicole was a freshman last year. We depleted some for Autumn, but look…there’s still a hundred thousand in there.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. The account’s closed.”

  Maddi closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. “I’ll have to speak to David about this. You’re sure there is no mistake?”

  “Six months ago, the account was closed and the money transferred to the Caymans.” Susan couldn’t meet Maddi’s eyes. “Dr. Clemmons didn’t tell you?”

  “No. But, by God, he will.” She turned and walked out.

  All the way home she was thinking. David would pay for this. And pay dearly.

  * * *

  It took Maddi a couple of days to find a computer expert that could locate the deleted files. Using sophisticated programs for recovery he uncovered the boat’s registration and bill of sale, a forged bank loan, the name of the bank, and the account numbers in the Caymans, where David moved their money.

  Within a week she had everything she needed to nail the prick.

  Carrie, her attorney, quickly obtained a court order from the Somerset County Court enabling her to freeze the accounts. Once Maddi had everything in place, all the paper goodies in her basket of retribution, she was off to the Caymans.

  When she checked into the Cayman Reef Club in Bodden Town, Maddi was not alone. She’d brought along a retired sea captain.

  “This is nice work indeed.” Harry Hornsby removed his cap and winked at a group of bikini-clad ladies. “Five hundred a day to soak up the sunshine.” He wiped sweat off his brow, and with his cap, patted his heart. “Might not be good for the old ticker, though.”

  Harry had spent years operating the Staten Island ferry, and before that the Circle Line Tour, cruising around Manhattan. Lucky for Maddi, he was both experienced and broke, due to his frequent visits to the race track. She’d offered him lucrative pay to move the boat from one Caribbean island to another, and to babysit the vessel for a week or more until she was able to return. Easy work for easy pay. He’d jumped at the chance.

  “Enjoy it today, Harry.” Maddi told the burly, weathered faced captain. “With any luck your work will begin tomorrow.”

  They each had a one bedroom, ocean-view room, booked for two nights. Despite the beautiful surroundings, Maddi hoped she could wrap up her business in a day and be back in New Jersey the next afternoon.

  She unpacked quickly, then stepped out onto her balcony to get a feel for the place. The stunning views of the coral reefs, the swaying coconut palms outside her window, and the blue sky melting into the turquoise waters were pleasant diversions, but she wasn’t here for a vacation. She was here for Good Times Ahead.

  Maddi took the car she’d rented at the airport, leaving Harry to enjoy himself, and headed for the bank where David did business. In less time than she had expected, she had located the bank and put a freeze on the son-of-a-bitch’s account.

  Following her tourist map, she made her way to the marina. Once she had ascertained who was in charge, she started in with her cock-and-bull story.

  “Richie Dansforth.” Maddi extended her hand. “I’m Maddi Clemmons, the owner of the Beneteau, Good Times Ahead.”

  “That’s one beautiful boat, Mrs. Clemmons. A finer craft will not be found anywhere on this island.” He shook her hand vigorously. “And it’s a real pleasure to meet you at last. Is David here with you?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Tears filled her eyes. “You see,” her voice broke poignantly, “he’s not well. He’s suffered a stroke.”

  “My good God! I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” Uncomfortable with the sight of tears, he looked out to sea. “David’s always appeared so fit and healthy. But, he’ll be up and about soon, I hope?” He shifted his weight back and forth.

  “The prognosis is not good, I’m afraid.” She sniffled. “The stroke has affected his speech. Right now, the poor man can’t speak or walk.” Tears welled in her eyes. “My big, strong, husband. My darling, David.” Her voice was husky. “He might never be able to do either again.”

  The young man swallowed. “That’s a terrible shame. It’s hard to believe.” He looked down at the ground, then up to her face. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Clemmons? Please let me know how I can help.”

  An hour later she had the nice young man handing her a new set of keys, and escorting her to the slip where the boat was moored. Thanking him profusely, she sniffled, and wiped away the last of her tears.

  Stepping on board, she used her new key to open the hatch and do a quick inventory. First class, all right. David had chosen well. The boat was every pirate’s dream. And according to the brochure, it was the newest design, manufactured in France.

  Maddi was duly impressed. Not just an ordinary boat for David. Oh, no. Good Times Ahead was hull number seven, only the seventh of its kind delivered in the world, fresh off the assembly line.

  The sailboat was loaded with special features that Maddi didn’t care about, but she was happy that the salon was bright, with thirteen ports letting light into the cabin, and the headroom was ample. The owner’s stateroom was well separated from the living area and had separate ‘his and her’ sides containing closet space, shelves, and reading lights. There was also a wonderful vanity at the foot of the berth to use as a make-up table.

  How nice for the two of them. How perfectly cozy. The guest room could even be used for the future brat.

  Unfortunately, it was not to be. This half-million-dollar baby was on her maiden voyage, and it would be her last.

  * * *

  Harry was as excited as a kid in a candy store when he saw the sophisticated electronics on board.

  “Glad you like it. This will be your home for awhile.”

  “Like it? Look at this.” He pointed to the Raystar 120 SeaTalk, with a combined radar antenna and a digital GPS receiver. “This little gadget can pinpoint our exact location within three meters. Couldn’t lose us, not even in the Bermuda triangle.”

  “That’s good, Harry. Because I have a special place in mind for this boat and that’s not it.”

  “Okay. I give up. Where might that be?”

  “Not so fast, Harry. You’ll know in good time.”

  “Why? What’s the big mystery?”

  “No mystery. I’m just working out some details, fine tuning a few ideas. But once I have the plans formulated, you’ll be the first to know.” She stood up t
o leave. “I need to go home and take care of a few things before we can begin. But, Harry, while I’m gone I want you to take her to Sosua Bay in the Dominican Republic. I’d like you to leave as soon as you can, and I’ll meet up with you next week.”

  “No problem. I can’t wait to sail this baby.”

  “When you get there, hire someone to change the name. I want this done right away.” She glanced at Harry. “I chose this place on purpose. For the right price practically anything can be done. No questions asked.”

  Harry cleared his throat. “Nothing illegal, I hope.”

  “No, of course not. Merely a paint job, a change of names.”

  He looked concerned. “Ms. Clemmons.” At her pained expression he started again. “Maddi. Sorry. I know you don’t like to be called by your last name. But, Maddi, it’s a bad omen to rename a boat.”

  “Really?” She smiled. “For whom? The boat or the boat owner?”

  Twirling his cap in his hands, he answered warily, “I’m not sure. Perhaps both.”

  “Cool.” Her lips curled up in wicked delight. “Very cool, since David’s the primary owner.”

  Sweat made his shirt stick to his skin. He fanned himself before answering. “I don’t like the sound of this, young lady. You are being very secretive about all this nonsense and I can’t help but wonder why.” He glared at her. “What are you planning to rename this beauty?”

  “Bad Times A’Coming.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  David stepped out of the elevator and came face to face with his old mattress and box spring set. It sprang toward him as he tried to step around it, and smacked him soundly on his right shoulder and reverberated off the side of his head.

  Cursing aloud, he pushed at it, fumbling under the size and weight as it trapped him against the wall. He dropped the bouquet of flowers he was carrying, and pushed with both hands, and sent it tumbling across the hall. Straightening his suit, he retrieved the flowers and had to sidestep through the wretched pile of old furnishings just to get to his apartment door.

  Damn woman, he thought. Maddi had done this. She sent all the old stuff over here and just dumped it in the hall. Now what was he going to do with it? It sure wouldn’t fit into the two-bedroom apartment he shared with Tami, nor would she have it if it did. But of course Maddi knew that. That was why she’d sent it over, to inconvenience him, annoy the hell out of Tami, and embarrass him in front of his new neighbors. And damn her, it was working.

  The elderly, blue-haired lady who lived alone across the hall opened her door a crack, peered out, and chuckled with obvious glee. “Looks like she got you good. Don’t blame her none, either. She told me all about it, since I was nice enough to hold the elevator open while she and her friends loaded up.” She shook her head and made a clucking sound. “Shame on you. Leaving a nice woman like that for that little hussy.”

  “Hello, Harriet,” he answered grumpily. “Now turn around and say good-bye. You don’t want to miss your afternoon soaps, now do you?”

  He turned his back on her, fumbling in his coat pocket for his key. When he turned the lock and pushed, the door barely moved. He had to use his shoulder to gain entry and muscle his way inside. His jaw fell open and he cursed his wife vividly. This was so unlike Maddi to do something so spiteful, so richly insane. A part of him was furious; another part wanted to whistle and cheer. In all their years of marriage he’d never known her to show this much spunk.

  David recognized the two dwarf trees that had graced the front entrance of their home, as well as the shrubs she’d dragged inside. Obviously she’d gone to a lot of trouble to play this little trick and had needed assistance. He knew Barbara wouldn’t have wanted to miss the fun, but it was too much work for two women. Who else had been involved?

  Whoever they were, they had dug up most of the front garden, bushes, hedges, and all, wrapped them in what had been Maddi’s and his old bed sheets, clumps of dirt still attached, and deposited them in and around his freshly painted apartment. In the center of this mess, amidst all the dirt and clutter, she’d set up his home office, with his big mahogany desk, his well used leather chair, and the wall unit he’d filled over the years with his favorite Tom Clancy and Stephen King novels.

  On top of his desk sat one of the finest intricate model sailboats he’d ever had the privilege to see. He’d always wanted one, but Maddi used to complain that they were ridiculously expensive. Funny she was giving it to him now. He picked it up and read the tiny inscription on the bottom of the boat. It read Bad Times A’Coming.

  He didn’t like the sound of that. Was it possible she knew about his boat? No, impossible. If she knew about that, she’d know about the bank account and would be screaming bloody murder. And her female bitch of a lawyer would be jumping all over him. No, the model sailboat and the name were probably just a little joke, her dig at him, implying he’d never get his boat now. At least, he hoped that was all there was to it.

  Glancing around for more clues, he checked the wall unit. There sat their wedding picture, exactly where it had always been. Gingerly, he stepped over the tangled roots of what had been a potted plant, being careful not to drag clumps of dirt with him, and picked up the picture. Attached was a note.

  Dear David, I wanted to be sure that you got half of everything, not just the house and the belongings. Do enjoy your indoor garden, dear. P.S. I hired a wrecking crew to chop the house in two. Maddi.

  Oh, my God. Was she serious? No, she wouldn’t do anything that crazy. Or would she? To what length would she go for revenge? Their house was worth a small fortune; he’d worked his ass off to pay for it. And it was filled with unique treasures from their travels and little pieces they’d chosen together over the years. She wouldn’t dare destroy their beautiful home, along with all their priceless things, just to get even. She was too sensible to do anything that destructive, he reasoned. Wasn’t she?

  He gazed around his apartment, still stunned at the pandemonium she’d created, and wondered if he’d pushed his wife a little too far. No, this was not the work of a sick mind, he assured himself, just a woman out for revenge. One, with a rather warped sense of humor.

  What he wanted to know was just how the hell had she gotten in? He shook his head, trying to figure it out. Glancing down at the wedding photo he still held in his hands, he saw Maddi’s beautiful face turned up to his. He stared at it for a long moment, marveling at how, after all these years, she still could manage to surprise him.

  He stuck the photo in the top drawer of his desk so Tami wouldn’t be faced with it the moment she walked in. Then he stepped over a hedge and nearly tripped as he moved backwards toward the door. His fiancée would flip out when she got home, and she was due any minute. He would have to intercept her before she got into the elevator and came up to the third floor.

  He’d take her to a fancy restaurant in one of the best hotels. Get a room for the night. Romance her. Call a cleaning service to clean up the mess before they returned home.

  Too late.

  He heard the scream behind him and spun around. Tami stood at the doorway, gaping, her face contorted with rage. Next he saw her barge through the door, flinging things aside, clawing at bushes and debris. Then her arms were flying and her feet slipped right out from under her. For a second she was suspended in the air, then toppled on a rhododendron plant, her nose sunk into the purple flowers.

  Being a gentleman, he tried not to laugh.

  Tami sat up on the floor, shrieking hysterically, and David rushed to her side, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter in check. Then he, too, slipped on the bed sheet, and the smirk was wiped from his face. He sat there breathing hard, heart thumping. Having landed on his tailbone the pain jolted through his system, sharp as a ’gator’s teeth.

  Wincing, he rose slowly to his feet. He tried to pull Tami up, but the satin sheen of the sheet made easy work difficult, and this time his legs gave way and he ended up sprawled on top of her. Tami was hissing obscenities the l
ikes of which he’d heard from precious few women. Her pretty face was smudged and scratched, and her blonde, spiky hair was caught in the flowering, purple bush. He stared at her for a moment, looked at the unbelievable chaos around them, and then his eyes crinkled with amusement and his deep laughter rang out.

  * * *

  Maddi and Barbara were enjoying a glass of wine at one of the finest restaurants in New York’s Greenwich Village, Gotham’s Bar and Grill. It had always been David’s personal favorite.

  “Here’s to a successful day.” Maddi touched rims with her lifetime friend. “Can’t you just imagine his face when he got home?”

  “Oh, but just wait until he finds out you’ve moved the boat. He will die, I swear. He will go absolutely ballistic.” Barbara grinned. “Not only that. He’s going to be shitting bricks until next week, wondering if you really are mad enough to chop the house in two.”

  Maddi rubbed her hands together with glee. “This revenge thing is kind of fun.”

  Barbara chuckled. “You’ve taken it to a whole new level.” She eyed Maddi. “When he finds out about the boat, you better be on it, girl.”

  “I intend to be, don’t worry. Won’t you please come with me? We can make a little vacation of it.”

  “I wish I could. But, I’m swamped right now. As you know, it’s my second year running the Red Cross Ball.” She sighed. “It would be gads more fun pirating his boat away to some obscure little island. Why won’t you tell me exactly where?”

  “In case you get subpoenaed. He’s just mean enough to do that. And what you don’t know, you can’t tell.”

  “Are you ever going to tell him where it is?”

  “Eventually. When it’s doomed, and it’s too late.”

  Neither said a word for a second, Maddi savoring the moment, envisioning the scene her imagination played out. Then as one started to laugh, the other did, ending on a spurt of giggles.

  A waiter stopped at their table. “More wine, ladies?”