I thought back; the shock of the experience had made everything seem surreal in retrospect. “I—don’t know. He certainly seemed to move in lunges; but I was distracted . . .”
She nodded. “Of course you were; he scared you out of your wits. No matter. They’ll know soon.”
“We will,” Doug said. Then he stood up, looking brisk. “Adam probably wants to close up here. Lena, I’ll ask Sam and Adam to escort you two back to your place so that you can pack whatever you need. Then you can relocate for the evening.” He turned to Belinda. “I’m sorry to say I’ll have to take you home so I can go set up shop at Graham House.”
Belinda’s eyes were bright. “Well, it certainly will make an entertaining story. Darla has been living on this stuff, so you’ll make her day tomorrow.”
I stiffened. “Darla knows about this?”
“No, nothing secret. But she’s read about the crimes in the paper, and of course you know about her fascination with Sam. Now if I tell her someone tried to kidnap you she’ll probably lose it.”
Doug listened to this with an attentive expression. “Who is this woman?”
“Darla,” Belinda said. “She’s worked at the library for the last month. You talk to her whenever you visit me.”
“Right,” Doug said, making some sort of note on his phone.
We were all standing now, and I said, “You know what upsets me? If this is Nikon, he just keeps jabbing at us, from wherever he is in the world, paying his minions to do his dirty work. Meanwhile we can’t do anything to him.”
“Not true,” said Sam. “I’ve been thinking about this. Did you know Jake Elliott is in town?”
“Elliott? The reporter?” Doug asked.
“Yes. He ended up helping us a lot with his stories a few months ago. What did he call it, Lena—‘shaping the narrative’? I think we should call him. He’s here to talk to Victoria, of course, but I want to tell him about the murder. The frame-up. The attempted abduction. I want him to expose Nikon in the press. Let him shape our story in such a way that we look strong and Nikon looks like a petty fool.”
“That sounds good,” Allison said. Tabitha and my father nodded their agreement.
Doug pointed at Sam. “Talk to him tomorrow, then. Let me know if he wants a quote from the police.”
We all cleared out then, and Adam locked up his restaurant for the night. I thanked everyone again, and we bundled into our cars and headed for our respective destinations. I had come alone, but Tabitha insisted on riding with me, which I appreciated. Her soothing voice told me all about my father’s summer plans, and it helped to distract me from the dark shadows that loomed along the edges of the road.
12
She turned to him, feeling helpless. “What now?”
“Now we wait,” he said.
—From Death at Delphi
IF OUR VISITORS had appreciated the grandeur of Camilla’s house, they were just as impressed with the stylish elegance of Sam’s. A local woman who was Marge Bick’s cousin cleaned Sam’s house every other day, and that helped to keep it always gleaming.
“Oh my,” Tabitha said as she drank decaffeinated coffee at Sam’s kitchen island and gazed around his large, lovely space. “I am so glad to know that when the world was treating you badly, you had this haven, and you had Lena.”
“I agree with you on both counts,” Sam said with a smile. “When you finish your coffee, I’ll show you the guest room. It will be neat to use it—I’ve never had the chance.”
My father nodded. “Thanks for putting us up. We sure don’t want to cramp your style. I get the impression you and Lena haven’t gotten to be alone much lately.”
As always, my father saw straight to the center of things. “We’re working on it,” Sam said. He smiled at me and something inside of me twisted pleasantly.
“Oh my,” Tabitha said, fanning herself with her hand.
My father stood up and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll be glad, when I head back to Florida, to know that Lena has not one, but two homes here, and that she’s loved in both of them.” He turned to Tabitha. “I’m about ready to turn in. How about you?”
Tabitha nodded, pushing away her coffee cup. “Yes. It’s been a long, eventful day.”
“Tabitha,” I said. “Those gift bags you made were amazing. I don’t know how you did it all. You must have been so busy, and all for me. Thank you so much,” I said.
If Tabitha hadn’t loved me before, she clearly did now. She glowed as I gave her a hug, and then she moved toward my father and took his hand. He smiled at us both. “Lena, if it’s all right, Tabby and I really are going to see Meridien tomorrow. You have things to do here, I’m sure.”
I hugged him, too. “Thank you so much for the party, Dad. Despite the—event—I will always remember how beautiful it was.”
“And I’ll remember how beautiful you were, my daughter. I’ve never seen you look like this. You’re luminous.”
“It’s the dress,” I joked.
Tabitha said she wanted to look at the stars, so my father accompanied her out onto Sam’s deck. Sam touched my arm and said, “We packed up your presents to open tomorrow, but I want you to open mine now.”
“Okay,” I said, pleased.
He pulled a little blue box out of his pocket and handed it to me. The paper was lovely, but I tore it anyway, then lifted the lid to find a delicate silver charm bracelet under some silver tissue paper. “What is this?” I said, examining it. The first tiny charm was delicate and pretty, and clearly handmade. “Is this—a waffle?”
Sam grinned. “Every charm has something to do with the way we met. You ate waffles at the diner.”
“Of course. And at your house, when you made them for me. Let’s see, what’s this one—a cigarette!”
“Because you helped me stop smoking.”
“And a little German shepherd. Because I was walking them when we met.”
He nodded, smiling. “And of course there’s a little book there, because you are a famous author.”
My eyes were spiked with tears. “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. This is expensive silver, and you had someone handcraft it—”
“Did you see the last charm?”
I looked. It was a silver heart with a red stone in its center. “That one represents me falling in love with you.” His face was earnest, handsome, irresistible.
“I love this. I’m going to wear it all the time. But I don’t want to explain it to people. I just want it to be our special secret. To remind me of you, every day, forever.”
Sam leaned in, about to kiss me, but my father and Tabitha came back in, loudly proclaiming that Blue Lake had the most stars they had ever seen. I tucked away my beautiful bracelet, and Sam led my father and Tabitha upstairs, where I could hear her saying “ooh” and “aah” over the spare room. I put the coffee dishes in Sam’s sink, suddenly weary, and then headed upstairs with my little blue box.
Sam’s room was warm and quiet. I went into his bathroom with the overnight bag I’d brought with me and changed out of my lovely dress into something else that I’d bought at Sasha’s—something I’d been eager to wear for Sam. Despite the draining events of the evening, I still wanted to wear it for him, and this desire had intensified when Sam had smiled at me in the kitchen—his smile managed to convey such intimacy, such intense focus, that I couldn’t think of anything, now, but being alone with him.
When I went out again Sam had turned the lights down and lit his fireplace. “You can just tuck yourself in and relax,” he said, stoking the flames. Then he looked up at me. “What—is that?” he asked, almost stuttering.
“Something I bought to wear for you.”
“I was thinking you should just rest,” he said, swallowing.
“I’m not elderly, Sam,” I said. “I think I could use a nice,
physical distraction.”
“You are a physical distraction. What color is that?”
“It’s called ‘peaches and cream,’” I said, moving toward him.
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, his mouth warm and alluring. “It’s lovely,” he said. “You are lovely.”
“You are sexy.”
Suddenly he swooped me up into his arms and carried me toward the bed. I giggled, then covered my mouth. “I don’t want the visitors to hear,” I said.
His lips were warm on my ear, turning my bones to water. “Then we’ll be very, very quiet,” he said.
* * *
* * *
THE FLORIDA CONTINGENT left for Meridien the next morning—a lovely, blue-skied morning with the scent of the lake in the air. “Enjoy your shopping,” I told Tabitha as I waved them out the door.
Sam was making coffee. I paused in the doorway to the kitchen, admiring his trim waist and the deft movements of his hands. The buzzing of Sam’s phone on the counter brought me out of my reverie, and he snapped it up with his right hand. “Sam West.” He listened for a while, then turned to look at me. He gave me a slow smile that had me blushing like a teenager. “Yeah, that will be fine. We’re just about to have breakfast.” He hung up and said, “That was Doug. He’s got some information.”
“Okay. That’s good, right?”
“Probably. Here—drink your coffee.” I sat down in front of the mug he had poured me, and he pressed his lips to my neck, lingering slightly before he pulled away. “I don’t have waffle ingredients today, so it’s going to be egg and tomato sandwiches.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“Did you sleep all right?” he asked, back at the stove.
“Very well. Eventually.”
He grinned. “Me, too. Lena?”
“Hmm?”
“I wonder—”
Now it was my phone that rang. It was Belinda. “Just a sec,” I said, and I answered it. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Lena, you’re at Sam’s, right? Can I stop by?”
“Sure, why not? Doug’s going to be here, but I don’t know why—the more, the merrier. Have you learned something?”
“Yeah. About Sam, not about Nikon.”
“Okay—we’ll be here. See you in half an hour?”
“Great.” She rang off. It was shaping up to be a busy Saturday. I looked at the man across the room and felt a pang of remorse. “Sam? There’s something I was supposed to tell you the other day, but I wanted to wait for a quiet moment, and then so many things happened . . .”
He moved a spatula in his pan. “Okay.” He turned to look at me. “About what?”
“Belinda was looking into some things about your family. Because I asked her to, remember? And she found out something about your mother. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner.”
He turned off the heat under his pan and walked back to the table. “My mom?”
“Yes. Belinda found that your mother had been married twice.”
“What?” He sat down, brows raised. “That makes no sense.”
“Belinda said it was a guy your mom went to high school with. She married him in ’79. She never mentioned it? Your dad didn’t, either?”
“No.” He looked less upset than he did flabbergasted. “I—this is so bizarre. She would have been just a kid. She was only twenty-two when she married Dad.”
“Belinda thought maybe it was a high school romance. Apparently they either had it annulled or divorced a couple of months later. A mistake made by two inexperienced kids.”
Sam nodded. “Well, it’s not like it’s a deep, dark secret. But why wouldn’t she have told me and Wendy? It’s—shocking.”
“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but Belinda is coming over—she said she found out something else.”
He rubbed his face for a moment. Then he looked at me. His eyes were deep blue and slightly sad. “Whatever it is, Lena—it just doesn’t matter. How could it possibly, after all these years?”
I nodded. “I guess. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you ready for breakfast?”
“I am. I’ll slice the tomatoes.”
* * *
* * *
DOUG ARRIVED AS we were washing up. Sam poured him some coffee and we sat down at the table. “We know who he is,” Doug said, handing us a photo printed from a traffic camera. “His name is Wally Kallis. He’s a thug who’s been in and out of jail in both Indiana and Illinois. He’s been out since he finished serving a sentence last year for breaking and entering.”
“Do you think he’s the one who broke in at Camilla’s?” Sam asked.
Doug nodded. “We’re fairly certain. Cliff took fingerprints, which we’ll check for a match today. The question is why.”
“Or who,” I said. “As in who hired him. Right? I mean, he was scary, but he didn’t seem to have any—personal intent. This isn’t necessarily related to Eddie Stack, or to Nikon. It could be some tabloid going beyond the bounds of the law. Hiring unstable people as paparazzi. I mean, he was holding a camera.”
Sam and Doug exchanged a glance. “You’re probably right,” Doug said. “Once we get Kallis—which I hope we will do today—we’ll know the answers to these questions. But I want you to study the photo carefully, and consider the name. Has either of you ever encountered this man before? Heard his name in the past? We have to rule out any possible connection.”
I shook my head. “I know I’ve never seen him. Aside from our three encounters, I mean.”
“Me, either,” Sam said. “I spent a year trying to avoid people in this town, so I can count on one hand the number of strangers I’ve met. He’s new to me.”
“Any chance he was the man who broke into Sam’s?” I asked.
Doug shook his head. “We don’t think so. Kallis is quite tall. Based on the video, we’re estimating the height of the person in the video to be about five foot eight or nine.”
He took a sip of his coffee, then held up a finger. “By the way, I can tell you that your little letter opener was not the murder weapon in the Stack murder.”
“No?” asked Sam, looking relieved.
“He was shot. The knife was plunged in postmortem. A weird, vengeful touch, probably done in the middle of the night.”
Sam and I exchanged looks of surprise.
A knock sounded on Sam’s door, and he rose to look at his security screen—a little monitor next to his refrigerator. “It’s Belinda,” he said. “I’ll go let her in.”
Doug brightened, and I smiled. “How are things going?” I asked.
He shrugged. “She wants to be sure that I’m sure. I get that.”
Sam came back with Belinda, who wore a pair of faded jeans and a navy blue peasant blouse embroidered with white flowers. A large purse was slung over her shoulder. “Hey, everyone,” she said, her green eyes lingering on Doug.
He sprang up and gave her a quick kiss, then pulled out a chair for her. If he’d been wearing a jacket, he probably would have flung it on the ground for her to walk on. I almost laughed out loud.
“Thanks for letting me drop by,” she said. “I had a few more things I wanted to share. You might consider them significant.”
“About Nikon?” Doug asked.
“One of them is.” She put her purse in her lap and pulled out some file folders. “I was digging deeper into the Lazos family. As you know, it’s hard to find anything about them at all. How can you be so rich and keep such a low profile?”
“If you have the money, you can buy the low profile,” Doug said.
She shrugged. “Well, I found an interesting story about Nikon and one of his brothers. The youngest brother, I think. His name is Demetrius.”
“I read about him the other day. He has his own bottling company,” I said.
/> Belinda didn’t seem to hear me; her nose was in her file. “Back in 2010, Nikon and Demetrius had a huge falling-out—it wasn’t clear why—and the rumors of a rift in the Lazos clan made it into the papers—first in Greece, then all over the world, when people picked up the story. The amazing thing is that the reporter actually got a quote from Nikon Lazos.” She pushed the clipping over to us, and Sam picked it up.
“‘There is no excuse for betraying your own family,’” Sam read in a wry voice. “‘My brother has made the decision to break faith. He will have to live with the consequences.’” He set down the paper in disgust.
I looked at Doug and Belinda to see if they shared my reaction. Then I said, “Nikon is a piece of work! I really think he might be insane. I wonder what his poor brother did—maybe told him he was out of line? Commented on how badly Nikon had treated his first wife? Laughed about the fact that she escaped from him?”
Belinda shrugged. “But the article implies that after this, the siblings took sides. Some with Demetrius and some with Nikon.”
“Can I keep that clipping?” Doug asked.
“Sure. It’s just a computer printout,” Belinda said, putting it back in the folder and handing the whole thing to him.
“You’re amazing,” Doug said.
Belinda blushed a little. “The feeling is mutual,” she said.
He got up. “If that’s all, I need to head out. Sam, Lena, keep me informed. Belinda—can I talk to you for a minute? Maybe you can walk me to my car.”
She said, “Sure,” and stood up, but turned to me and said, “I’ll be right back.”
I exchanged a surprised glance with Sam, and we waited for a few minutes. Sam reached across the table and played with the tips of my fingers. “He’s trying to out-romance me,” he joked.
“He would lose.”
“Belinda won’t think so. I’m glad to see them back together. Were they off for a while?”
“Yeah. But they seem to be back on.”
Belinda came back in, her face pink, and said, “He just wanted to ask me something about my research.”
A Dark and Twisting Path Page 15