Christmas Past

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Christmas Past Page 4

by Mary Burton


  “This is so like Richard. So damn controlling.” Tears threatened. “I’m so tired of him ruining my life.”

  Ayden laid his strong, calloused hand on hers and held her gaze. “Richard Braxton is dead. He has no more holds on you. You are in control of all this right now. You can stop now and we can turn this over to the local cops.”

  “No. No. I want to end this once and for all. Like I’ve said before, I owe Claire this much.” She straightened her shoulders. “Let’s go to that bank.”

  Something akin to pride glistened in his eyes. “All right. We’ll go to the bank now.” He checked his watch. “With luck, we’ll be on the road back to Richmond in an hour.”

  She nodded but she didn’t believe that they were going to be headed south in sixty minutes. Something deep inside her whispered that their journey was only just beginning.

  They rose and Ayden helped her on with her coat. He called out to Ms. Wellington.

  Ms. Wellington appeared from an office at the end of the hallway. She moved with confidence and efficiency yet didn’t seem rushed. A neatly plucked eyebrow arched. “Have you gotten everything you needed?”

  Ayden studied the woman. “We have for now. But I may return to ask you a few questions.”

  “I won’t share information about my client. Attorney-client privilege.” She was so full of righteous indignation.

  Anger sparked in Ayden’s eyes. He pulled out the pictures and held them up so that only Ms. Wellington could see them. “Have a good look at these, Ms. Wellington. Your client is responsible for this.”

  She glanced at the pictures. For a moment her well-cultured veneer cracked as the horror of the images penetrated her brain. But just as quickly, Ms. Wellington cloaked her emotions and she met Ayden’s gaze. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  He hoped the pictures scared her. “But Mr. Braxton did. I believe he or his associate killed this woman.”

  “I don’t know anything that can help you.”

  Nicole was the one who spoke up. “Her name was Claire Carmichael and she helped me escape my husband. If not for her I’d be dead now, I know that. What you see in that picture … that’s what Richard—your client—did to punish her for helping me.”

  “As I said, I had nothing to do with that,” she said evenly.

  “We didn’t say you did,” Ayden replied. “But your client did, and I would hope you would help police put that monster behind bars.”

  Ms. Wellington swallowed. “I can’t reveal discussions I had between my client and me, but if there is another way I can help, then I will, of course.”

  Ayden didn’t seem all that mollified, but he accepted her statement. She likely didn’t have anything to do with the murder but she was protecting the killer. “We’ll be talking again soon. Can you tell me where this bank is?”

  She glanced at the card. “Just around the corner, not one hundred yards from here.” She gave them directions and followed them to the front door.

  “There’s a small inn two blocks from here on the Potomac. Layfette House,” Ms. Wellington said. “In this mess the roads will be gridlocked by now. Most people don’t know about the inn so it will be the last to fill up.”

  Ayden nodded as he turned up the collar of his jacket. “Thanks.”

  Nicole and Ayden left the lawyer’s office. Outside the air had turned bitterly cold and the snow fell faster. The heavy downpour wouldn’t let up for a while. Nearly an inch of snow had accumulated on the streets and a white blanket covered Ayden’s car.

  He captured Nicole’s elbow and they headed out into the snow. They opted to walk the two blocks instead of taking the car and risking not finding another parking space.

  In this historic section the snow, combined with the green wreaths on the town house doors, brick sidewalks, and candles burning in the windows, made the area all the more charming. If not for this dark errand she and Ayden had been given, she would have loved to have slipped her hand into his and walked these streets and savored the beauty.

  But she would do neither.

  Flecks of snow dusted Ayden’s blond hair. Blue eyes bore into her. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I want to believe that.”

  Warm calloused fingers wrapped around her chilled hand. “Believe it.”

  With him this close, touching her, she knew that she could do anything. Somehow everything would be fine and she didn’t need to be afraid. She felt hopeful. “Okay.”

  They walked on the hundred-year-old brick sidewalk down Union Street. In the distance, the Potomac River meandered past as the snow accumulated along its icy shores.

  Within minutes they were at the bank doors. Ayden reached forward and pulled on the brass handle. The door was locked. Confused, he checked his watch. “They shouldn’t be closed.”

  Nicole glanced to the left and spotted a sign. “Closed early for snow. Will reopen tomorrow. I can’t believe this. The roads aren’t that bad yet.”

  He removed his cell from his pocket and dialed a number. “Let me call the state police and see how the roads are doing. If they’re okay we’ll head home and come back tomorrow.”

  She hated the idea of having to leave and return, but resolved that it would have to be done. “Okay.”

  Ayden asked for a Captain Lou Fraser and waited only seconds before the other man’s deep voice cut through the lines. Ayden’s eyes softened when he smiled and spoke to the man who was clearly a friend. When he smiled, it took years off his appearance and made him, well, dashing. She found her heart beating faster as she stared at him.

  He hung up the phone and looked at her. “The interstate is a nightmare and the alternate, U.S. Route One, is just as bad. If we leave now we’ll be sitting in our car for eight hours.”

  Her heart sank. She’d never spent a night away from Beth. “I’ve got to get back to my baby.”

  “You can call Lindsay and let her know. Beth will be fine with her.”

  “I know. I just don’t like being separated from her.” Feelings of worry always plagued her when she thought about her child. That was par for the course with motherhood. But now in the face of Richard’s evil all she wanted to do was hold her baby.

  “She’ll be fine,” Ayden said. “And you will be fine.”

  “I know.”

  “The inn Ms. Wellington mentioned is a block from here.”

  She sensed any hotel in this tony section of town would be expensive and she was forced to admit, “I can’t afford a room. My budget is tight.”

  “I’ve got it covered.”

  “That’s kind of you, but I can’t have you pay for me. You’ve done so much.”

  “I don’t mind helping.”

  She sighed. “I appreciate this, I really do. But it seems since I left Richard someone has always had to help me. It’s hard being grateful all the time.”

  He studied her a moment. “After Julie died, everyone jumped in to help me and the boys. It was great at first. I don’t know how I’d have made it without the help. But it got old after a while. I just wanted to get back to some kind of normal.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case anymore.”

  He studied her. “The county’s valor awards are coming up in the summer. What if you take the headshots for the program? We don’t have a budget to pay you, but…”

  She smiled, grateful. “I’d be happy to take those pictures.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  “I doubt that will ever happen.”

  “Let’s see if they have a couple of rooms at this inn.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to get warmth in his fingertips.

  “Right. Yes.” His logic was doing little to soothe her frantic feelings but she had no choice.

  They backtracked their steps and drove to the inn, which was at the river’s edge. The three-story brick building, like the rest of this area, was at least a couple hundred years old. Green wreaths with red bows hung in all the windows and single candles flickered
in each. They ducked under a blue awning that extended from the entrance over the sidewalk and hurried up the stairs.

  Ayden pushed through the front door and instantly a rush of warm air greeted them. To their right a fire crackled in an ancient fireplace, an Oriental rug warmed an old plank floor, and hunter green walls gave the room an old-world feel.

  Across the room stood a ten-foot Virginia Pine Christmas tree. Faux electric candles and strings of dried apples draped the tree and miniature glass teardrop ornaments hung from the branches. The place smelled like apples and cinnamon.

  Ayden guided Nicole to the desk across from the tree. Behind the thick wooden desk stood an older man with thinning gray hair and dark-rimmed glasses. He wore a blue suit, white shirt, and a red tie. A red silk handkerchief peeked out from his breast pocket.

  The man glanced at Ayden and immediately straightened. “Yes, sir?”

  “We need a couple of rooms.” Ayden slid his hand into his pocket.

  A couple of rooms. Despite their conversation in the car, he was trying not to rush her. She was touched by his concern, which made Nicole want him more.

  The clerk’s gaze darted between the two as if he was trying to figure out what they were about. Nicole could just imagine the thoughts racing through the clerk’s head. She looked like a bohemian artist with her dark hair, turquoise scarf, and leather jacket, while Ayden looked like the poster child for conservative with his dark knee-length coat, white button-down shirt, and khakis.

  “We don’t have a couple of rooms,” the man said. “We’ve had an influx of calls in the last thirty minutes. The beltway is clogged and a lot of folks are trapped in town for the night.” Ayden frowned. “But I do have one room. It’s a small. Just one double bed.”

  Ayden glanced at Nicole. “What do you think?”

  Nicole tripped over the pros and cons. Should they stay? Go elsewhere? Maybe the roads weren’t that bad. They still might get home. And then there was the promise of sex that hung between them. She heard herself say, “We’ll take it.”

  Ayden seemed to swallow a smile. “Any port in a storm?”

  Nicole nodded. “Right.”

  “Any luggage?” the desk clerk said.

  “No.” Ayden spoke with a stern confidence that allowed no room for questions.

  Nicole felt herself blush. This all felt so illicit though it was anything but. Perhaps it was because she had not been with a man in almost two years, but it wasn’t like she was a silly virgin. There’d been Richard, of course, and before him a couple of boyfriends. But the idea of just lying in the same bed with David Ayden made her mouth go dry.

  Nervous energy shot through her as she watched him accept the room key. She stared at his rough, calloused hands and her mind skipped to an image of those same hands touching her bare skin. She’d not been touched in so long.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Uh, yes.”

  He smiled. And again he looked so different, so attractive. “Me, too. There’s a restaurant over there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They moved into a tiny café. The place was nearly full, but there was one table by the window. The hostess took their coats and promised to have the table ready in a few minutes.

  “I need to call Lindsay and let her know where I am.”

  “Sure.”

  She reached inside her oversize purse crammed full of pacifiers in zip-top bags, spare diapers, toy keys, and a wallet held together with a rubberband. She glanced up at Ayden a bit apologetic. “My cell is in here. Somewhere.”

  “No rush.”

  Her hand skimmed the bottom and her fingers brushed the phone. She snapped it up. “Gone are the days when all I needed was a couple of bucks and my driver’s license.”

  “That’s traveling light.”

  “That’s what I did after college. I’d pick up and go into the mountains and shoot sunrises and sunsets. Often I just slept in my car.”

  He frowned. “That’s dangerous.”

  “I never thought twice in those days. Now I think twice, three times.” She pushed her bangs off her face and dialed Lindsay’s number.

  On the fourth ring she heard Lindsay’s breathless, “Hello.”

  “Lindsay, it’s Nic. How’s it going with the kids?”

  Ayden turned away to give her privacy.

  In the background, Nicole heard banging pots. On that end the noise had to be deafening. “Is that Beth?”

  Lindsay chuckled. “And Zack and Jack.”

  “Your head must be ready to explode.”

  “I’m used to the noise at the women’s center. So when are you going to be back?”

  “Tomorrow. The roads are blocked by snow.”

  “We barely have a dusting down here. But I’m not surprised you guys are getting it up there. D.C. always gets more snow.”

  “So you’re okay with Beth for the night?”

  “Of course. She is a doll.”

  The genuine kindness in Lindsay’s voice eased her nerves. This would have been impossible without Lindsay’s help. “Thanks.”

  “So,” she said, dropping her voice a notch. “You and Ayden having a good time?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “He’s very kind.”

  “That’s not what I’m digging for.”

  Nicole glanced over at Ayden, who’d turned toward her as if he sensed he was now the topic of conversation. His gaze bore into her and then flickered away. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Which is code for he’s standing right there and you can’t talk.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Before you go, remember the man is nuts for you and a little fun might be just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” She hung up to the sound of Lindsay’s laughter.

  Outside snow coated the large deck that overlooked the Potomac River. They moved into the restaurant. When Ayden sat across from her, she leaned forward. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”

  “Stop saying thank you.”

  “Right.”

  The hostess seated them at the table by the window. They had a stunning view of the river and the snow falling outside.

  A tall officious man wearing an apron over his white shirt, black vest, and pants appeared at the table. He greeted them in French.

  Without thinking, Nicole responded in French. The waiter raised an eyebrow. In French he said, “Ah, you speak French, madame.”

  “Oui.” As she conversed with the waiter she was aware that Ayden watched her. When they’d placed their drink orders, the waiter left.

  “I’m impressed,” Ayden said. “Where’d you learn to speak like that?”

  “My parents and I lived in Paris for three years. I was about fifteen. Dad worked for a magazine and he was the Paris editor for a while.”

  “I never knew that about you.”

  She folded her hands in front of her. “It was a great time.”

  “I’ve never been to Europe. My folks’ idea of a vacation was Virginia Beach for a long weekend.”

  “I’ve heard it’s fun.”

  “To a fifteen year old it was paradise. You miss Europe?”

  “Yes. Someday I hope to take Beth there.”

  The waiter arrived and served Ayden his coffee and Nicole her glass of wine. Normally, she never drank, but today she needed to settle her nerves. The waiter took their orders and left.

  Absently, Ayden lined up the fork and the knife until they were straight like soldiers. “So where else have you lived?”

  “After Paris we were in London for a while and Rome before coming to L.A.”

  “You speak Italian?”

  “Yes. And German. I have an ear for languages.”

  “Your parents have passed away?”

  “Yes. They were older when I was born. They died shortly after college. I used my small inheritance to start my first business.”

  “I don’t know as much about you as I thought.”

  “You know all the
bad stuff. You know about Richard and all the darkness that went with him. You’ve seen the worst. Believe me, it wasn’t always like that.”

  “So what other hidden talents do you have?”

  She’d not had wine in so long the few sips had already melted through her. It was nice not to have such a bare-knuckle grip on everything. “I’m a decent baker. Mom insisted I learn to cook. She was Irish and old-world in some ways. A good woman knows how to cook. And I love to camp. Like I said, I didn’t think twice about picking up and heading into the mountains alone for a few days.”

  He frowned. “You met Lindsay in L.A.”

  “We knew of each other. But we didn’t hang out much. She was so driven and I was just a free spirit.” A smile played on her lips. “Funny. Now I’m the one that’s uptight all the time and she’s the most relaxed I think she’s ever been in her life.”

  “I can’t guarantee you’ll be the free spirit you once were. Kids have a way of changing things.”

  “How have the boys changed you?”

  “I used to ride a Harley.”

  She laughed outright, trying to picture him sitting on a bike. “When was that?”

  He hesitated as if he didn’t want to admit how long ago it really was. “A few years back.”

  “Were you with the department then?”

  “No, that was college. I did a couple of years at the community college and then joined the department. I finished up going to school part time at VCU.”

  “And the rest is history?”

  “Right.”

  “How long have you worked homicide?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “Long time.”

  “Yeah.”

  She sipped her wine, wishing it would wash away all the worries and fears and leave her with this relaxed cozy feeling forever. “What’s a favorite Christmas memory you have?”

  He frowned and for a moment seemed pensive. “I think it was the year the boys were about four and five. Both were so excited about Santa. But I was working a lot in the weeks up to Christmas and I was hardly home. Julie and I barely saw each other. I had to work on Christmas Eve. I arrived home about six A. M. Julie was up making coffee. I kissed her when I heard the boys’ feet hit the floor. They came downstairs like they were possessed. I remember feeling bad because I hadn’t had time to put the tree up for Julie. Then I saw the light in her eyes. She was so excited. I followed her to the closed living room doors. When she opened the doors it was like she’d opened it to a dream. The tree was up, lit, decorated, and surrounded by gifts. Like magic. Later I told her I was sorry I hadn’t gotten her a gift and she told me my presence was present enough. The boys were jumping up and down begging to get inside. And I remember feeling so damn lucky.”

 

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