I had told him about the pregnancy yesterday since I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday.
With the lid back on the box, Trent had no idea. Before we’d come to a complete stop, I jumped out of the car, hearing a string of curses from everyone. This was against protocol, but I didn’t care. Technically, opening an unknown box was, too, but I hadn’t thought about that since it was normal to receive gifts. I leaned against the brick and lost everything in the alley of the busy city. The smell of the garbage bin intensified my sickness.
This was terrible.
Dry heaves wracked my body as the image replayed over in my head. Trent was beside me in an instant. “What’s wrong, Willow?”
I managed to say, “Look in the box.”
More dry heaves.
“Get me the box,” Trent demanded.
People moved around me as I vomited more. I took deep breaths—in through the nose and out through the mouth. The box appeared, and I glanced at Trent. Alarm rang in his eyes, and he said, “Oh fuck!”
“Andre, take this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Everyone was on high alert as I leaned my forehead against my arms on the brick. A soft touch patted my back. Trent’s soothing voice was tinged with worry. “Willow, we need to get back in the car and get out of here.”
Without a word, I walked over to the SUV with Trent guiding me. Trent gave further instructions. “Andre, take us back to the house.”
This was so bad—worse than I imagined.
“Yes, sir.”
I looked up at the vehicle’s ceiling, trying to keep the bile down. The decaying finger smell still lingered in my nose. “That was Alex’s ring, Trent. And the note…”
The picture of the note flashed through my mind.
“We’re supposed to check every delivery. I’m seeing what happened, Willow.”
Not much remained of the finger. I gagged thinking about it. The missing finger hadn’t been a trophy, but a gift… to me. I gagged again. Trent grabbed my hand. “We’re going to figure out what the hell is going on.”
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Trent shuffled to get to his phone. “Yes. Find him. I understand.”
Find him? That doesn’t sound good.
This terrible day kept getting worse by the minute. The hate within me for Alex continued to grow. What had he been thinking? With this threat, the situation escalated to a whole other level compared to simply wanting money. All I wanted was to go back to a simpler life. If only I had never crossed that street where we first met.
I was pregnant.
What if someone got to me?
The baby was the most important thing in my life. How in the world had Alex done these things having a child of his own? The games he played were dangerous… in fact, they seemed deadly. I touched my stomach. I will protect you, little one.
Trent mentioned the finger, and I forced the thought away. The last thing I wanted was to be sick again.
After hanging up, Trent informed me of his conversation. “That was Paul. He’s working on locating Commander Taylor. Within fifteen minutes of the call he made to you, we identified that he was not at the precinct or his house.”
An involuntary shudder went through my body, remembering the decaying encrusted finger. The thought of being taken terrified me. I swallowed again, refusing to vomit anymore.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. I swear it. I have good men on my team. Dedicated men.”
Never again was I opening unknown boxes. Never. Again.
I wasn’t able to form any coherent sentences that added anything. All I kept thinking about was someone figuring out a way to get through the protocol. Tack had and now this person. How had they? The knowledge concerned me.
There was a minibar off to one side in the back of the SUV. Trent handed me a ginger ale. “Drink some of this for your stomach. It’ll help.”
Tentatively, I took a sip. The ginger ale burned a little but helped soothe the turmoil.
Whoever’d had the package delivered knew my schedule. I pulled up my phone and scanned the article about the show. It mentioned nothing about me going there today to review the paintings.
Besides security, Carson, Tack, and Eva… who else knew where I would be? “What are you thinking about?”
Finally, words returned to me. “Who else knew I was going to be at the gallery today. It’s been the only place halfway accessible since the house is like Fort Knox. Every delivery is monitored. There are cameras and motion sensors everywhere. You have people patrolling the perimeter. It doesn’t make sense.”
Trent took out his phone. He pushed a few buttons and then my voice played over the phone. It was from my conversation with Commander Taylor.
“Ms. Russo?”
“Sorry, I’m here. It’s been a crazy morning.”
“Is this a good time?”
“Yes, it is. I’m on my way to the gallery for business.”
The recording paused. “That motherfucker knew where you were going to be.”
Trent made another phone call. “Send me all the details of where Commander Taylor has been since we started tailing him. Call Eva at the art gallery and ask her why the fuck protocol wasn’t followed on that gift.”
Time passed as my mind contemplated all the different possibilities of what had happened. The gates to the estate opened, and I felt safer. Another SUV was parked in the circle part of the drive. The mood was tense as we all walked into the house.
I wanted this over with.
Another security guard emerged from nowhere as though they multiplied on demand.
The box came into sight, and I turned the other way, afraid the ginger ale would not stay down. I never wanted to see the contents again.
“Andre, please take this and wait for me outside.”
Thank goodness, the finger left. Just the thought. I focused on the patterned curtains while getting my thoughts under control.
“Let’s sit, Willow. You look a little pale.”
I felt pale. I sat on the couch, and Trent joined me in the chair next to me. Carson walked out of the study with his hair pulled pack. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Everything go well?”
I shook my head. “I got another message.”
Carson’s eyes went wide. “What type of message?”
I motioned for Trent to tell him. The putrid smell still lingered. “Willow received a box with a finger and a note stating they were coming for her.”
“Oh fuck.” Yeah, that was putting it mildly. “How in the fuck did that happen, Trent?”
Trent ran his fingers through his hair. “We’re checking into that. I’m going to take the finger to a trusted lab. Run some tests. See if there’s anything.”
Andre came to the door, and Trent excused himself. The burner phone dinged in my purse. Shit. I forgot to turn down the volume. Quickly, I found the phone and silenced it without bringing any attention to myself.
“Francesca and I are staying here tonight. I don’t want you alone.”
I looked over at Carson, the tears finding their way to the surface as the shock wore off. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Carson brought me into a hug. “You’re not alone, angel. I’m here for you. We’re all here.”
The silent tears came fast. Trent cleared his throat, and I hastily wiped them away. “The box was delivered to the business upstairs of the gallery while Eva was visiting a friend. She tucked it in her purse and didn’t think about it.”
These people were good. Really good. My eyes widened, and Carson was in front of my face. “Don’t let your thoughts go there, Willow. No one is taking you.”
The words weren’t reassuring at this point, but I put on my game face.
Trent walked further into the room. “We also found out why Alex sent money to Apple Blossom using the money he wired from your account.”
“Why?” I asked.
Trent sat in the chair across from me. “It’s a spec
ial needs school. His son goes there under the alias Toby McIntosh.”
Carson jumped in. “Why does his son go there?”
Trent answered, “Gabriel Alexander Thompson the Second has autism.”
This little boy was an innocent bystander in all of this, too. Alex, the king of bastards, had potentially put his child in harm’s way. If whoever sent the note was willing to take his wife, a child would be icing on the cake. In college, I had taught art to autistic children. It had been part of my curriculum.
Children weren’t able to pick their parents. “What’s the status of his tuition?”
“The account is in arrears since the drafts stopped a little over two weeks ago. If his mother doesn’t become current on the account within two weeks, it looks like he’ll be released from school.”
I cradled my head in my hands. This was terrible. I thought about my baby. I was fortunate to not have financial stress added to the situation. The image of the little boy came to mind—he was a little Alex through and through. We were both victims of the same circumstances. I wanted to help this little boy any way I was able to without becoming directly involved in his life.
After clearing my throat, I asked. “Can we set something up to pay the tuition? I don’t want them to be able to take cash out, but I don’t want this little boy to pay for the sins of his parents if this school is legit and he truly does have autism.”
Running his fingers over his forehead, Trent thought for a second. “Let me do some additional checks. If everything looks legit, I’ll get it figured out how to funnel the funds through without you being involved. I’ll bring it to you to sign off on.”
“I can look, too, Willow, if you want.” Carson offered.
“Yes. Please.” I put my attention on Trent. “Run it by Carson. He’ll send it to my accountant.”
Trent stood. “I’ll make it happen. Let me check in with my team. Reorganize. I’ll keep you posted.”
We stood. “Thanks, Trent.”
He left with the phone to his ear.
This was all too much. Where in the world do I start to think about it all?
I was tired. “I’m going to go lie down.”
“I’ll be here. I’ve informed Francesca of the change in plans.”
Francesca had to be wondering what in the world had happened. Touching Carson’s shoulder, I made a decision. “Tell her everything if you want. I don’t want there to be any secrets between you.”
“Thanks, angel. Let me make some arrangements. I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
Safely inside my room, I took out the phone and checked my messages. There were numerous ones from Tack that all read about the same.
Tack: What happened?
Tack: Are you okay?
Tack: Willow, I need you to answer me.
I checked the time. The last one came ten minutes ago.
Me: I’m okay. I got another threat. I was with Trent and Carson.
My phone rang.
“Hello.”
He sighed. “Thank fuck you’re okay. I saw you pulled over. I thought you were sick. What happened?”
I got under the covers. “Commander Taylor called me today to check in. It was creepy. I disclosed where I was headed, not thinking about security. While Eva visited her friend upstairs, a package was delivered to her for me. She brought it back and put it in her purse without thinking. I opened it without telling Trent. It was a clusterfuck, really. In it was a finger with Alex’s wedding ring. And a note that said ‘We’re coming for you.’”
“Where’s the note?” A shiver ran down my spine at the steel in Tack’s voice.
“Trent and his team have it. They’re analyzing it. They’re also trying to find Commander Taylor.”
We grew quiet for a minute. “I’m going to be coming to you soon, Willow. Sooner than a month. I’m missing a big fucking piece of the puzzle, and I can’t figure it out yet. But I’m not jeopardizing you or the baby’s safety. Are you staying in tomorrow?”
“Yes. I want this all to end.” My voice cracked.
“Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too. Keep your ringer on when you’re alone in your room.”
“I will.”
He paused. “And Willow?”
“Yes.”
“I’m counting down the seconds until there’s nothing else between us.”
My heart jumped in anticipation. “Me, too.”
“Hey, Nonno, sorry I missed your call earlier. The Whitmores were over for lunch. We roasted marshmallows for old time’s sake.”
Having everyone over had proven to be a great distraction from yesterday’s events. It had been Francesca’s idea.
A chuckle came from the other end of the call. “Did Carson still burn the shit out of his?”
“Yes, he gave up and had me make them. I’m afraid Francesca is as bad as he is.” Nonno had witnessed many a roasting disaster throughout the years.
Another laugh. “Sounds like a match made in heaven. Is everything set for the show tomorrow?”
The show. I had so many mixed emotions. Apprehension was winning at the moment. “It is. Your ticket will be at the check-in. If you need anything, let someone know. Marie and Bennett are going to pick you up.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You did this on your own. If your dad was alive, he’d tell you the same thing.” Pride was evident in his voice. I hoped Dad and Mom were able to see me from heaven.
“Thank you, Nonno. Thank you for sharing.”
“Anytime, baby girl. Never doubt his love or how proud he was.”
“I won’t.”
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
I fumbled with the phone on the nightstand. Who the hell was calling this late? Or maybe it was early? Whichever it was, I wanted the annoying noise to go away.
“Hello?”
It was Tack, and he was wide awake. “Willow, has Trent called you?” An urgency similar to the situation in Italy filled Tack’s voice.
“No. What’s going on?”
“Commander Taylor was found dead.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Yes, burned like Alex.” Dread filled me. “Whoever’s doing this is—”
I cut him off. “Is tying up loose ends.”
“It appears that way.”
I hated Alex. He met me. Found out about the painting. Then he tried to steal it for his payday. When that didn’t work, he played me. And now my life was inside out and upside down. And my innocent baby was being dragged into this mess, as well.
Tack’s voice came back. “No one is getting near you except me. I need to get to the crime scene to see if there’s anything that will help. Will you let me know if Trent knows anything? I’m sorry to call and wake you, but I wanted you to know.”
“Yes, I’ll tell you what I find out. Be careful, Tack.”
“Always.”
We were on our way to my art show. I felt like I radiated nerves. Surprisingly, I had forced the events in my personal life aside for the day after Trent told me about Commander Taylor. There were no additional leads. I’d let Tack know he was empty-handed, also.
Tomorrow, the problems would still be there; today, I enjoyed my accomplishment and the events after the show—Carson planned to propose to Francesca at my house. This filled me with delight. She had no idea and wasn’t pushing for the proposal. Mildred had made Carson’s favorite ravioli to celebrate.
Afterward, he planned to take her to the beach house he’d ended up buying through all this madness. That home would be the perfect place for them.
After checking my phone for the tenth time, Trent’s hand came on top of mine. He was dressed in a tux, looking quite dashing. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Willow. I, or another member of security, will be with you the entire time. Don’t take anything from anyone. I’ll intercede in a professional manner if need be.”
“I got it.”
He released me. I
t was a brotherly feeling. Comforting. Flexing my fingers, I resisted the urge to check my phone… again.
I adjusted my lavender chiffon dress, careful not to snag any of the teardrop beads dangling from it. It was sophisticated elegance. I found it earlier this year, and I’d been dying to wear it. The dress had been love at first sight. I never dreamed I would be wearing it to my own art show.
My fingers went to turn over my phone, but I resisted. Trent smiled and shook his head, trying to suppress a laugh. “I know. I know. I feel like a neurotic mess.”
“I don’t think I said this before, but congratulations, Willow, on your show. It’s an incredible achievement. Having worked security for many, I know how significant this is.”
“Thank you. It’s pretty surreal.”
The gallery’s brick building came into view. A few press members hung out front. Generally at any event like this, there were a few paparazzi hovering in hopes of catching someone rich and famous dropping by.
The box with the finger flashed through my mind. Whoever was after me knew I would be here tonight.
Put it aside. Enjoy tonight. I will be safe.
Trent reassured me. “I promise everything will be fine.”
And I was beginning to truly trust him—and not simply because my father had. We veered off the main road to the alley that led to the back door to enter without anyone in the way.
A beep signaled a text message on Trent’s phone. He quickly read it. “Everyone is set up. Some security will filter in as guests. There will also be normal security around so the increase in personnel doesn’t raise suspicions. If anything is bothering you, look at me and blink three times. We’ll get you out of there. No questions asked.”
Andre radioed someone from the front seat and the alley door opened. We were quickly ushered inside. I looked over my shoulder, wondering if the person causing all this was watching and waiting for the perfect moment to take me. The kidnapping threat had everyone on high alert. Commander Taylor’s murder only added to the stress.
Eva greeted us wearing a pink ombré silk gown. Her hair had been elegantly smoothed down. In her element, Eva exuded enthusiasm. “Hello, darling. Everything is set. We’ve already had someone buy one of the paintings. It’s above asking price, so I went against protocol and sold it. I hope that was okay. I have a feeling tonight is going to be stupendous.”
White Lies (A Twisted Fate Series) (Volume 1) Page 19