Luxury Model Wife

by Downs,Adele

  An R.N. hurried into the room. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Van Orr?”

  She rushed to Victoria’s bedside, checked her vitals, and adjusted the dosage on the oxygen tank. Almost immediately, Victoria’s breathing leveled off.

  The nurse’s eyes flashed. “Did you upset her?”

  Steve resisted a defensive comeback. He couldn’t blame the nurse for doing her job. “She’s been through a lot. Her father died in that fire.” He left out the more descriptive words he wanted to use to describe Slater. The man had earned Victoria’s fear and hatred.

  Still, Slater was her father, and coming to terms with that complicated relationship would bring a fresh round of emotions to sort through when she got out of the hospital. Though he was no psychologist, he’d learned enough in medical school to know that abuse left permanent wounds that often resulted in rage and depression.

  Steve said a silent prayer she wouldn’t hate him, too. He’d failed to protect the last remnants of her life with James. Almost everything of value she’d owned had either been stolen or charred. Steve felt like a failure, and his guilt must have shown plain on his face.

  The nurse’s expression changed from accusatory to sympathetic. “Okay. Well, just try to keep her calm. She nearly collapsed a lung by the time the ambulance brought her in. Smoke inhalation can do that. And worse. She was lucky to survive.” The nurse offered him a brief smile. “You, too.”

  “I know.” He looked at Victoria again. Dark smudges had formed beneath her eyes. Her skin had turned bright red, as if from a bad sunburn, and her cheeks were scraped and bruised. He touched her singed hair and his heart sank. She would have to cut her beautiful dark waves.

  Suddenly, weariness overtook him. A phantom boulder sat on his chest. His feet seemed glued to the floor, but he forced them to move to a chair.

  Steve closed his eyes to sleep beside Victoria’s bed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two weeks later, Officer Wilson led Victoria to his desk at the police station and pulled up a chair for her. Steve was already seated, but he stood when she approached. His eyes searched hers with a hopeful gleam, though his expression remained tight.

  Her feelings for him had become a jumble. Though she still loved him, and would be forever grateful he’d saved her life, the devastating losses she’d suffered and her feelings of guilt and failure had numbed those emotions. Since the fire, she’d locked herself in her home and spent most of her days and nights alone.

  Her doctor said she needed time to heal from her trauma. Death had gotten too close. Fiery nightmares and memories of her father in his final moments haunted her.

  Steve seemed willing to give her all the time and space she needed and had made it clear his feelings for her hadn’t changed.

  If she couldn’t reciprocate, she’d have to let him go.

  “I asked you to stop by to take a look at something,” Officer Wilson said, typing rapidly on his keyboard. Pinnacle Antiques Auction’s website popped up on the screen. “Notice anything interesting?”

  Victoria studied the home page, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “What makes it special?”

  “Exactly the question I’ve been asking,” Wilson answered. “I’ve been watching this website since the case opened. Something about it niggled at me. It kept scratching the back of my mind like a sand crab. There was something about this website I sensed would be important to this case.”

  The rookie sat back in his chair and opened his hands in question. “What was the connection between Bruce Mitchell, Carlos Vega, Jimmy Van Orr, and Flynn and Slater, if any? Back-to-back burglaries are not uncommon, but they’re usually committed by the same person or persons. As far as the police could determine, the dealers from Pinnacle Antiques Auctions had never had contact with Flynn and Slater. Why would they? They came from two different worlds. I just couldn’t figure that out before.”

  Steve seemed to catch the inference. “Before? You mean you’ve got it now?”

  Wilson grinned like a kid tasting his first chocolate chip cookie. “Bet your sweet ass—” He closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “Sure have. I may be green when it comes to the streets, but I know computers.” He tapped a finger on the monitor. “See the name of Pinnacle’s website administrator?”

  Steve leaned forward.

  “It’s way down at the bottom of the page, in eight font. The logo identifies the person who built the pages. The individual also created the graphics, loaded the text, and completed the updates.”

  Victoria leaned over and stared at the icon at the bottom of the home page. “Web design by K-T Graphics, Inc.”

  Victoria looked up. “Who are they?”

  “She,” Wilson replied. “The question is, ‘Who is she?’”

  He drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk in quick rhythms. His expression glowed with triumph. “I cracked the case with the answer.”

  Wilson glanced over at Norman Leighton’s office and looked back at Victoria. “Might just get me some respect around here.” He pulled a full-color brochure from his desk drawer and handed it to Victoria. She unfolded the pages to find a photograph of a stunning, blonde-haired woman inside.

  Wilson pointed to the picture. “Know her?”

  Victoria shook her head.

  “Sure?”

  Victoria’s heartbeat quickened when she took a second look. The vague memory of a woman standing inside a townhouse foyer swathed in moonlight and a red negligee came into focus.

  “It can’t be.” She didn’t want the connection to Jimmy to be true. With a trembling hand, she reached to smooth her long, dark waves, forgetting her singed hair had been cut to chin length after the fire.

  Victoria turned the picture over to Steve, who took one look at the photo and tossed the brochure on the desk with a grunt.

  “Now I remember.” Victoria recalled the night she brought Steve to Jimmy’s townhouse after the bar fight with Arnold Flynn. “Her name is Katherine.”

  Wilson picked the ad up again and fanned it through his fingers. “Right. Katherine Sterling. I had a nice, long chat with her yesterday. She’s in custody, by the way.” Wilson grinned.

  Steve fidgeted in his seat. “You cops are all the same. Will you just spit it out and save the suspense? Who the hell is Katherine Sterling and what does she have to do with this case?”

  Wilson slapped his chest. “You’re killing me here, Carlson. How else do you think we cops amuse ourselves after catching bad guys? We tell our stories.”

  He rattled the brochure. “Katherine Sterling was the go-between for Pinnacle Antiques Auctions and Arnold Flynn and Benjamin Slater. She was promised a piece of the Van Orr pie for acting as their filter.”

  Victoria said, “She used Pinnacle as a reference when she offered to build Jimmy’s website.”

  Wilson’s voice crackled with obvious pleasure. “Right. Beautiful woman, rich doctor. Jimmy probably thought he’d struck gold when she started sleeping with him, too.”

  “Jimmy always did like the ladies,” Steve said with a scowl.

  “Which probably suited her purposes,” Wilson said. “She was keeping a close eye on the money.”

  Steve smirked. “I bet that hurt his inflated ego when he found out.”

  Just then, Lieutenant Leighton exited his office and made his way to Wilson’s desk. He shook hands with Steve and Victoria. “Just thought you’d like to know we got a confession from Bruce Mitchell during a plea agreement with the D.A. He and Carlos Vega have been burglarizing antiques shops in our area for years and reselling the goods. They’re the ones who ripped you off each time.”

  “Bastards.” Steve’s face flushed with fury.

  “Pirate was our witness,” Victoria said. “Too bad he can’t testify. Carlos probably talked to him again the night he and Bruce cleaned out the shop.”

  “Here’s the twist.” Leighton rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled while he shook his head. “Mitchell wants to know if he can buy that Rohmer doll fro
m you after it’s returned from the evidence room. The doll is the main reason they risked another break-in.”

  Steve stood and jerked his chair aside. “They gambled with our lives for that damned doll?”

  Leighton nodded. “Like crack to an addict, my friend.”

  “And Jimmy Van Orr would have his revenge.” Steve made a fist. “I never saw it coming.”

  The lieutenant slapped him on the shoulder. “Officer Wilson will explain. I’ll be in touch.” He returned to his office.

  “What’s all this have to do with my father, Flynn, the burglaries, and the fire?” Victoria asked Officer Wilson.

  “Flynn is a private detective and Slater’s old cellmate. From what we’ve been able to piece together, Slater hired him first to find your mother.”

  “Why?” Victoria asked. “After all these years, why did he care about her?”

  “I don’t think he cared, Mrs. Van Orr,” the cop replied. “I just think he had nowhere else to go when he got out of prison the last time. Maybe he hoped he still had a hold on her. Considering what happened afterward, it seems he was right.”

  Wilson continued. “He stayed at her place for a few months and pumped her for information about you after she bragged about your privileged life. Your mother made the mistake of telling him about your wealthy late husband, and he started using the Van Orr name as an alias. I guess he wanted to sound important.”

  Wilson offered a tight smile. “I talked to your mom. She said to tell you she’s sorry.”

  Victoria’s mind reeled. “I can hardly believe she let my father stay with her, especially after all she’d gone through with him.” The idea of them together sparked anger inside her that dissolved into sadness.

  The officer made sympathetic noises. “Once Slater learned you sent your mother a monthly allowance, he wanted in. But he had a much bigger appetite than a regular check in the mail. He wanted a piece of the inheritance. So he promised Flynn a payout to find his rich daughter and help him steal from you. All that took was an internet search, patience, and a few dollars. When Flynn found you, they came to town.

  “Flynn and Slater drove cross-country, planning to hit you up for some money, steal what they could from the Van Orr collection in Pinnacle’s storage facility, and fence the items for cash. But by the time they got here, things had changed.”

  “I’d given the consignment to Carlson’s.” Victoria looked at Steve and saw that his lips had formed a hard line. “And moved the goods into Carlson’s store and warehouse instead.”

  “Right.” Wilson shifted in his chair and sat back to cross his legs. “The guys at Pinnacle were sure they’d win back the consignment.”

  “But I refused to budge,” Victoria added.

  “Right again,” Wilson said. “That’s when things got sticky.”

  The cop continued with his story. “Jimmy was furious for his own reasons about the change in plans and complained to Katherine Sterling. She was cozy with the guys at Pinnacle and knew they had an illegal sideline.”

  He gave Steve the stink eye. “Your bar fight with Flynn, and recovery at Jimmy Van Orr’s place, tipped her off. She probably did a little digging, learned Flynn had a rap sheet and had done time, and set out to meet him.

  “When she did, Flynn introduced her to Slater. Those two missed out on the goods inside the store because Mitchell and Vega had already stolen them. So Flynn and Slater decided to burglarize the warehouse. Katherine Sterling helped them work a deal with the guys at Pinnacle to fence all the goods and share the profits.”

  “The Van Orr collections would have been too hot to stay in the area,” Steve said. “Mitchell and Vega knew they were taking an unusual risk with high-profile merchandise.”

  “So why take it in the first place?” Victoria demanded.

  Steve turned to her. “Retaliation.”

  Wilson nodded. “Exactly.”

  “If they couldn’t benefit, they wanted to make damn sure you and Carlson wouldn’t.”

  “Then Mitchell kept the Rohmer French fashion doll and got caught.” Victoria let out a sigh. “The money from the fenced goods wasn’t enough for them.”

  Wilson lifted his chin. “We would have caught them sooner or later.”

  “Did Jimmy take part in the thefts?” Victoria asked.

  Wilson shook his head. “We’re not sure how deeply he’s involved. His girlfriend might have filled him in after the fact, but we can’t prove he was part of the conspiracy.”

  Victoria turned toward Steve with heaviness like stone in her chest. “I’m sorry. You wouldn’t be going through any of this if you hadn’t met me. You’ve lost almost everything.”

  Steve’s voice cracked. “Almost everything?” He leveled a stare that made her shiver. He jerked his head toward Wilson, indicating he couldn’t say what he wanted because the cop was listening. But Victoria understood the implication. Steve had not only lost his business—he had lost her, too.

  A sense of overwhelming guilt washed over her. Hadn’t she shared her most intimate self with him? Hadn’t she told him he was The One?

  Was he still?

  Victoria let out a breath. That subject would have to wait. “Then what happened?”

  Wilson tapped his index finger against his temple. “Until Katherine Sterling entered the picture, I couldn’t find the thread between Flynn and Slater, the owners of Pinnacle, and Jimmy Van Orr. There was obviously a connection between the burglary at Carlson’s store and the warehouse break-in and fire, but we didn’t know what that was.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Until Katherine Sterling was exposed as the link. She was not only a website administrator and Jimmy Van Orr’s lover but the person who hacked your security system, Mr. Carlson. The woman has skills.”

  Just then, Jimmy Van Orr entered the station, flanked by lawyers. His gait seemed relaxed, as if he had nothing to worry about, but his pallor was ashen beneath his expensive suit. He met Victoria and Steve’s eyes as he passed them on his way to the interview room.

  Officer Wilson stretched and linked his arms around the back of his neck. “Slater had a sense of entitlement as Victoria’s father. He and Flynn brought a stolen truck to fence the Van Orr goods with a network of criminals who had no local connections. There’s no way you could have known.”

  “Two separate, but related burglaries,” Victoria said. “No one expected the fire.”

  She glanced toward the interview room.

  “May I speak with him?” Victoria stood, as if the question wasn’t a request. She was determined to hear the truth from Jimmy’s own lips.

  “Sure.” Wilson led the way to the interview room. He opened the door and waited for Victoria to enter before closing it behind her.

  Jimmy sat inside with his attorneys, arms folded on the desk. His expression tightened when Victoria walked into the room. She dragged a chair from the corner and pulled it over to the table. The attorneys looked on, impassive. One of them whispered something into Jimmy’s ear.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said. “Were you part of this?”

  Jimmy looked exhausted. He rubbed his eyes. “Don’t. Just stop, okay? I might be a fool, but I’m not a monster. You know that. You’ve always known that.” His brown eyes reflected pain and remorse, and for an instant, Victoria saw James there.

  Jimmy looked over at the lawyers. “Can I tell her? Do we have a deal with the D.A?”

  The lawyers nodded.

  “I didn’t know who stole from Carlson’s store until later. Katherine came over to my place and gloated about it. I had no idea they’d also planned to hit the warehouse. It was almost like she thought she was doing me a favor.”

  Jimmy rubbed his face between his hands. “We fought about what she’d done. What they had done. I saw Katherine clearly for the first time then. On her way out the door she dared me to go the police. She warned me not to antagonize Flynn. She said he was capable of murder and I believed her.”

  “She threatened you?” F
ear shot ice water through Victoria’s veins.

  Jimmy lowered his gaze and shook his head. “Not me.” When he met her eyes again she saw terror in their depths.

  Her heart beat fast as understanding dawned. “It was me she threatened, wasn’t it?”

  Jimmy nodded and rubbed the corners of his eyes with the tips of his fingers. “She said Flynn would kill you if I didn’t keep my mouth shut.”

  His fists clenched the tabletop until his knuckles turned white. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I agreed to keep quiet if they left town and never bothered us again.”

  Jimmy swallowed and then continued talking. “The warehouse fire changed everything.”

  Victoria’s palms went damp. She hadn’t suspected Jimmy was in trouble. Not for a second.

  Jimmy asked for a cold drink and one of his lawyers made arrangements with an officer outside the door. A moment later, they brought him a soft drink and he took a long swallow.

  He met her eyes. “My feelings for you have been confused for a long time. It was hard not to…notice you.” He shook his head and looked away. “There were times when I hated you, too.”

  Victoria could barely hear him now, because the emotional energy in the room swelled like a living entity. She could hardly breathe.

  Jimmy turned back to her, his features contorted with anguish. He pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re half my mother’s age. What right did my father have to tarnish her memory with a trophy wife?”

  Jimmy’s words stung like an open palm across her cheek. She wanted to shout, “It wasn’t like that.” Instead, she said nothing.

  He seemed to accept her silence as an invitation to continue. “What right did you have to his money? My father and grandfather worked hard to build the Van Orr empire.” Jimmy’s voice cracked. He kneaded the back of his neck then dropped his hands back to the tabletop.

  Victoria stared at his lean, strong fingers. Hands that healed the sick and the desperate. Could she abandon the son of the man who had saved her? Didn’t he need her now?