Necessary Detour

by Hornsby, Kim

  “Pete Daniels?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Quinn Burnside. I made a terrible mistake.”

  ****

  Phyllis had flown in, the night before. A limo delivered her to Nikki’s house bright and early, and the women sat in the family room overlooking the lake, working on Nikki’s statement to the press that would take place in two hours. Words like “appreciate my privacy” and “discretion” floated in the air between them.

  Wearing a black Chanel dress with a sling that Bev made out of a scarf, Nikki hoped to show the press her physical departure from Goldy. A hairdresser had come the day before to recolor her hair light brown and cut it in a fashionable bob. She was determined to convince the press to set her free. At least, to let their obsession die. Today she would answer most of their questions and then call an end to the nonsense.

  Nikki stepped into the limo first and waited with Phyllis while Quinn finished a phone call on the walkway. Finally the sun had come out and a beautiful November day had emerged. “Is that my cell phone?” she called to Quinn. “I’ve been looking for that.” Nikki held out her good hand as Quinn entered the limo.

  “Yes, sorry. I forgot I had it. I bet you need it now that life is beginning again.”

  “That’s fine.” Nikki already knew that Pete never called. She’d asked every day in the hospital. Where the hell was he? Someone had to know. If nothing else, when this press conference was over and Phyllis flew back to L.A., Nikki would go to the dock where they’d left Pete’s sailboat. If the boat was still there, she’d leave him a note. If it was gone, she’d drive to Shelton to find the cove where it had been moored. If he hadn’t left for Mexico, she’d get on that nameless sailboat with a sack full of groceries and wait until he showed up. At the very least, closure was needed.

  Chapter 28

  Quinn had called Pete to say that he could see Nikki later, after her press conference. He didn’t know if he could trust Quinn to orchestrate a meeting and, after getting details of the press conference from a reporter friend, he changed his morning plan. He had to forget his debriefing and get over to the Westin Hotel. After leaving his apologies with a secretary at the Justice Department, he ran to the curb to hail a taxi. In two minutes Goldy’s press conference would begin. There was a good chance he’d miss it, even if he got there immediately. But he was gonna try.

  If the U.S. Marshal badge didn’t get him in the door, he’d pretend to be a reporter. How hard would it be to get into a press conference as a reporter?

  No taxis. Shit. He hailed a police cruiser. After flashing his badge and explaining he needed a fast ride to the Westin, they’d smirked. “Oh yeah, we heard about you and Goldy.” Even though he’d put on a Seahawks cap to hide his identity, the morning paper had a photo of him with the caption “Baby Daddy?” The cops stared at him strangely. Nikki was right. Fame had a price.

  He showed his marshal ID at the Westin ballroom doorway and was admitted to the back of the packed room. Even though it was after nine, the room was still buzzing in anticipation. Just knowing Nikki was in the building, settled his nerves in one way and jangled them in another.

  He walked up the aisle but was muscled out of the way by a burly man with arms as thick as tree trunks.

  “I’m a friend of Goldy’s,” Pete said.

  “Sure. We all are, pal.”

  Pete was ushered to the back of the room, and, sitting down amongst the crowd, he told himself to be thankful he was even here. He needed to hear Nikki’s voice, to know she was fine, to see that she was alive, and hear from her lips that the baby was fine.

  A middle-aged, gray-haired woman in large black glasses walked onto the stage and positioned herself behind the cluster of microphones at the podium. The room quieted.

  “Good morning, Seattle.” She looked comfortable behind a microphone. Good thing, because a hundred press members in attendance waited to hear from Goldy, including those representing European publications.

  “In a moment, Goldy will come out to read a prepared statement,” the woman said. “After that, she will answer only a few questions.” She scanned the sea of faces. “I’m going to ask you to be kind. Remember, she’s been through a lot lately and is still weak from the gunshot wound.” She smiled at the familiar reporters, waved here and there, and continued. “Although I offered to issue Goldy’s statement on her behalf just now, she insisted on doing this in person, and taking questions at the end. Goldy is a real trooper, a consummate lady and I want you to treat her as such.”

  There was a collective murmur from the press.

  “Goldy is not allowed to answer questions about the investigation, which is still underway. You know what I’m talking about.” She looked sternly over the heads of the front rows to the back of the room. “And to enforce that, we have Sergeant Hitchens of the Seattle Sheriff’s Department.” Pete knew at that moment, he’d get to talk to Goldy today. Hitchens was his advocate.

  The abduction attempt was top secret, he’d been told. Hospital staff had been sworn to secrecy so the press knew only about the Vanelli case, not about Shakespeare. That was FBI territory.

  Hitchens approached the podium. “Because of the ongoing investigation, Goldy will not answer any questions about the shooting that occurred in front of the King County courthouse on November 12th. Nor will she take questions about the shooter or the case connected with that incident. Thank you.” He backed away from the microphone, folded his hands in front and with that gesture, the curtains were pulled back at the side of the stage.

  Out walked Goldy—international rock diva and superstar.

  Pete’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of her. She looked like Nikki. Her hair was shorter, darker, and in this monstrous room, she looked very small. Almost frail. The crowd buzzed. Quinn was at her side, along with a nurse. Hundreds, possibly thousands of photos were taken in the time it took Nikki to walk to the podium, the room abuzz with the energy of getting the shot that would sell.

  Nikki stood behind the microphones and smiled. The loose dress didn’t show a baby bump and Pete hoped to God it was still under there. He found himself holding his breath. Dear God, don’t let this be an announcement about losing the baby. His heart stopped.

  “Hello, everyone. How are you?” Nikki’s voice was soft and sweet and so familiar to Pete, that he felt tears at the back of his eyes. She sounded like she was addressing long lost friends, beloved, cherished people she’d lost touch with. She waved the fingers of her right hand at reporters in the front and cleared her throat. “I’ve missed you, but I needed downtime.” She smiled at them. “And now, look how happy we are to see each other.” As she flirted with the crowd, Pete’s heart melted. Was this the same woman he’d been intimate with only weeks before?

  Nikki flashed a big smile and proceeded. “Do you like my hair?” She flipped it with her good hand and smiled broadly at the crowd. She was a master at handling the press, and Pete wished he could run to her and kiss her for being so brave.

  She waited for the room to fall silent. “I don’t look very Goldy-ish, and there’s a reason for that. Firstly, let me announce to you that I am doing well, my gunshot wound is healing and will be a distant memory, soon enough.”

  The group erupted in applause and Goldy waited again for the noise to die down. “And I want to confirm that I’m having a baby in the spring.” She nodded, looking very proud of herself.

  Pete heaved a sigh of relief and joined in the applause.

  “The baby is doing well, and I couldn’t be more thrilled about the addition to my little family.” She cleared her throat. “On a more serious note, you have to admit that I have been very open to sharing myself with all of you over the last twenty years. I have granted interviews even when I was exhausted, answered questions when it was inconvenient, and have included you in every aspect of my life. You’ve watched Quinny grow up, followed me through my marriage and divorce, and been included in everything. And I have benefitted from your i
nvolvement. Don’t get me wrong. It’s been a beautiful love affair.”

  Chuckles and murmurs spread through the room.

  “Up to this point.” She paused. “I have loved this life as Goldy and how you’ve helped me achieve this life, but I’m sorry to announce today that this is where our love affair ends. I’m breaking up with you and you have to move on.”

  The words troubled Pete, but then he remembered she was talking to the press, not him.

  “I look forward to being a mother again, with privacy this time.” She looked over at Quinn standing at stage left. “And I will not be doing anything in show business that you will need to report anytime soon, aside from a short birth announcement in February.”

  Wasn’t the due date March?

  “I plan to be the most boring person in history, so you will have no reason to follow me.” She laughed. “In the past, I’ve made good press, but that’s all going to change. I know this game well. I will not be your story from now on.” She looked sternly at the crowd.

  Nikki paused briefly and scanned her audience. “When I was shot—” She fought to keep her voice even. “—it was the press who saved my life. That day, wonderful people set down their cameras and surrounded me in a protective circle. My guardian angel, Gerard Thomas of the Seattle Times, risked his life to shield me after the first shot.” She looked sideways and took a tissue from the podium. “In his words, he ‘asked for guidance to save my life.’ Several of you, and you know who you are, took down the shooter at risk to your own lives…” She took a moment to compose herself. “…and for that I will always be grateful.” Nikki dabbed at her eyes. “I want to thank the press for saving my life, for giving me back this life, for saving my baby.” The applause was deafening. Nikki waited and blew her nose. When the noise died to a hush, she named names and asked that the people who’d helped her that day stand up to enjoy their moment of fame. They did.

  “And lastly I want to thank you for giving me the greatest gift of all…the privacy I need now to have a normal life.” She backed away from the microphone to let the older lady in glasses step in front of the microphones.

  “Goldy will now take only a few questions.”

  Nikki pointed to someone in the second row, who waved frantically. “Jim.”

  “What about the man on your dock, Goldy? Can you tell us who he is?” Although a pin didn’t drop, you could’ve heard it.

  She looked over at Sergeant Hitchens and a man in a suit, who was probably her lawyer standing off to the side of the stage. Both shook their heads. She continued. “Jim asked about the man on my dock, photographed a month ago.” She cleared her throat and adjusted her sling. “He was a neighbor and a friend of mine. The day that photo was taken, he was attempting to get rid of photographers for me.”

  “A boyfriend?” The reporter looked desperate.

  Nikki didn’t miss a beat. “Next question.” She pointed to someone standing halfway back, at the side of the room.

  “Does this pregnancy change any terms in your divorce, and will Burn be joining you and the baby in Seattle?”

  Nikki looked calm. “No and no.”

  Someone shouted out, “Is Burn the father?”

  “I didn’t call on you,” she chided with a smile.

  Nikki pointed to another reporter in the middle of the room.

  “Will you remain in Washington State or raise the baby in Los Angeles?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Probably not L.A. For the time being, I’m here with Quinny.”

  The publicist leaned into the group of microphones. “Last question.”

  Pete threw his arm into the air, waved it madly, and stepped into the aisle to be seen, knowing this was his chance. He wasn’t sure if she’d be glad to see him, but he had to try.

  Nikki’s gaze stopped when she saw him waving from the aisle. The expression on her face was one of disbelief, causing people to turn around. As he moved cautiously up the aisle, two security guards descended on him, and she shook her head at them. “It’s okay.” Nikki pointed to Pete. “The handsome man in the aisle.”

  Pete stepped forward. “Firstly, let me say that pending motherhood suits you, Ms. Crossland.”

  “Thank you.” A smile spread across Nikki’s face.

  Phyllis looked annoyed.

  “Next, may I ask if part of your glow has anything to do with being in love?”

  Nikki put out her good arm to stop Phyllis from cutting him off. Photographers had pulled out their cameras and were madly taking pictures of Pete walking up the aisle. He pulled his baseball hat further down his forehead.

  “Good question,” Nikki answered. “May I ask you, Mr...”

  “Daniels.” Pete stopped and cocked his head.

  “Mr. Daniels…do you believe that absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

  Ha! “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” The room was silent. “I’m afraid, Ms. Crossland, that absence has recently made my heart break.” Camera flashes went off on both sides of the aisle, as Pete continued a slow walk to the stage. “In my case, anyhow.”

  “Why broken?” She looked puzzled.

  “The absence wasn’t my choice.”

  Nikki smiled sympathetically, and leaned on the podium. “I’ve heard the heart mends remarkably well.”

  Pete was close enough to see that Nikki wore the Yoruba necklace. “My heart is making a miraculous recovery, right now, in fact.” He took another few steps.

  Nikki laughed out loud. “Where was this heart, these last weeks?”

  “It was here.” Pete put his hand on his chest. “It wasn’t for lack of trying to get through.” He held out his arms in surrender. The room was deafeningly silent as Pete approached the stage. “Will you mend my broken heart, Nikki?”

  “You know I will.” Nikki’s smile lit up her face.

  Pete jumped up onto the platform, removed his hat, and took her in his arms.

  “I love you, Pete. I didn’t say that before, but I love you.”

  Even though he wanted to hug her tight, he was careful of her left shoulder and whispered into her hair. “I love you, Nikki, and I love your baby, and I’m so happy that you’re both alive.”

  He pulled back to look into her eyes.

  Tears filled Nikki’s eyes. “I’ve been heartbroken, waiting for you,” she admitted.

  “I’m here, now. And not going away. Ever.” He kissed her cheek tenderly. “I have a name for the boat.”

  She searched his face. “What is it?”

  “Forever.”

  She closed her eyes and smiled sweetly. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” With one finger under Nikki’s chin, he tipped her head up to brush her lips with his, in only the hint of a kiss. It was a kiss to suggest what might come later. A kiss that the press couldn’t see because Nikki Crossland had turned her back to them.

  Nikki Crossland’s Hot Crossed Buns

  2 ¼-oz envelopes of dry active yeast

  1/2 cup warm water (100-105 degrees)

  1 cup warm milk

  1/2 cup soft butter

  1/2 cup sugar

  1/2 tsp salt

  3 large eggs

  1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

  5 cups all-purpose flour

  1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

  1 cup raisins

  Combine yeast and water in bowl, let stand 5 minutes. Add milk and next 5 ingredients. Beat at medium until blended. Combine flour and cinnamon, add to mix, beat 2 minutes. Stir in raisins. Place in greased bowl, cover with damp towel. Let rise for 2 hours. Punch down. Rise another 30 minutes.

  On floured board, roll to 1/2 inch thick. Cut into two inch circles and let buns rise in rectangular pan for 45 minutes.

  Bake at 350 for 20 minutes until browned. Cool and *glaze in the shape of a thick X.

  *Glaze- 1 cup of powdered sugar, 1 1/2 T milk, 1/2 tsp vanilla, whisk together until smooth

  When finished, package in
a pretty basket and wander innocently next door to see if the handsome neighbor is hungry.

  A word about the author...

  Once a rock singer herself, Kim traded her microphone and sparkly costumes years ago, for a jean jacket and motherhood in the Seattle area. Kim lives overlooking a lake with her hubby, Roland, her two kids, Jack and Ila, and two extremely disobedient dogs where the Pacific Coast rainy days leave lots of time to daydream and plot books.