by Olga Bicos
“Yeah, well, in the end, it’s just about the same thing, right? Are you waiting for me to say it? To take charge and haul you out of here? Because I can. Hell, if that’s what it’s going to take, I’ll be happy to.”
But she didn’t say anything, just dropped her gaze to look back at the articles and her notes. She’d written it out like some math problem. His sister needed to put the pieces together, turn them around in her head and make out their shape.
“You know what’s right, here, Hol. You know what you have to do,” he said, putting an exclamation point on the conversation.
“That’s what Ryan wants. For me to leave. He said it was the sensible thing to do.” But she was choking on the words.
“Hey. Sometimes, sensible is good,” he told her.
She stood, taking another long look at the work she’d laid out on the table, using it like a Ouija board. “We go home.” Saying what he wanted to hear.
She started gathering up the sheets of paper, fixing them into this nice neat pile. As if she’d made up her mind. Time to do the sensible thing.
It was one of those times Harris really hated being able to read people. Hated the fact that despite his sister’s promising words, he still couldn’t catch his breath.
The candy dish crashed against the wall beside Daniel’s head, just missing him.
“Jesus, Emma. Get a grip!”
“You almost killed her, Daniel!”
Emma flew at him, pounding him with her fists. Daniel grabbed her around her waist and swung her in a smackdown to the floor. They rolled across the living room, Daniel ending up on top.
“She was going to save us? Isn’t that what you told me?” she said, screaming back his words to her. She couldn’t believe they’d come here, full circle, to another place of death. “You begged me to help you!”
“It’s okay, Emma.” His voice had gone soft and sweet, but he still kept her pinned to the floor. “I know you’re scared, but Holly is all right. Come on, Ems. We can make this work for us.”
“Not this. No way.”
Last night, Emma had been standing next to Daniel at the party when the reporter got the call. Someone at E.R. had tipped off the paper, and Gigi had been right on the story, cell phone in hand. When she’d asked Daniel for a comment on the bizarre coincidence of Holly’s accident, Emma had heard every word, dying a little inside every time Daniel opened his mouth to answer the horrible reporter’s questions. My God, Gigi, it’s like the past is repeating itself….
“Give me a break here, Ems.” He was looking at her with genuine surprise. “You really think I planned last night? Honey, you have to believe that wasn’t me.” Saying it with such sincerity. As if she’d be stupid enough to still believe him. “I would not put Holly on some crazy car ride like that. No way.”
“Of course, you did it. You fuckhead!” She tried to put as much venom as she could in her voice. Tried to get him off her. “You told me you wanted to show them. Well, you showed them, all right. God, that I could be so stupid. This is all about Ryan and your chance to destroy him.”
Emma hadn’t slept last night, knowing what she had to do. At the same time she was so very afraid. After she’d read the morning paper, she’d come straight to Daniel’s place, trying to plead with him to stop. But all she’d gotten out of him were these stupid denials.
She’d always known Nina’s death burned inside him. That’s why she’d been so scared to tell the truth those years back, only too happy to continue Daniel’s fantasy that it was all Ryan’s fault. But now this…
“You’re not God, Daniel. Messing with people’s lives—”
“I talked to her first thing this morning. She’s absolutely fine.”
“Listen to me, Daniel,” she said. She wasn’t helping Holly, losing it like this. She had to keep control. “For once in your selfish life, listen. If that car had gone over, her brother would be planning a funeral right now.”
For an instant, she saw a spark of conscience in his eyes. She pushed a little harder. “It’s gone far enough, right? Time to stop. To leave Ryan alone.”
But it was the wrong thing to say. “Jesus, don’t you get it?” Every speck of doubt vanished as he rose to his feet. “This wasn’t me, Ems. This was Ryan. He killed Nina and now he’s going to kill Holly.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to, Daniel?” She jumped to her feet, following him into the next room. “Ryan did this? When Holly has been your gig from the first? I can’t think of a better way to screw with your cousin than to make him relive what was possibly the worst day of his life.”
He turned on her, his face in a tight smile, almost enjoying the moment. “Well, here’s another scenario for you, darling. Ryan makes sure my golden girl runs away scared. You don’t think it was a little convenient, him being there to save the day? Like I could plan that?” He shook his head. “He did this. He kills my project and gets the girl. What could be more perfect?”
“Only, the whole business has you written all over it, Dan. Didn’t I overhear your stamp of approval when you talked to that reporter? Ryan goes down and you get publicity for Cutty House. All wrapped up in a nice neat bow.”
“If he confesses—”
“For something he didn’t do!”
“He’s guilty—”
“Not of Nina’s murder, Daniel. Not that.”
“What does it fucking matter what he really did?” Screaming now, out of control. “He deserves whatever is coming. He stole what was mine. Doesn’t that mean a goddamn thing to you?”
She shook her head, seeing it all slip away. My fault. All of this. All my fault.
She threw her arms around him, hugging him, whispering feverishly, “She’s a trap, Dan. Nina has always been a trap. Let her go. Let Holly go. Do it for me, Daniel.” She reached up, holding his face in her hands to keep his attention. “We’ll go off on our own. I’ve never asked you to choose, but I’m asking now. Leave this funeral past. Be with me.”
Because it’s what she had to do. Like paying a debt. She couldn’t have Harris. All my fault. She and Daniel deserved each other.
But Daniel only pushed her hands away. He wasn’t going to choose her, she could see it in his eyes. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s what Harris was all about. You’re on the wrong side….
She stared at him, seeing that nothing was ever going to be the same. “You’re doomed, Daniel. Maybe we both are. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
She walked to the door, but Daniel wasn’t giving her the last word.
“Do you remember what it was like for me?” he yelled at her. “My mother was one of them, dammit! But what was I? Their hired help. How many times did I see that bastard throw away what I wanted most? As if it were nothing? Because, hell, to him, it was nothing. He never had to beg for a thing in his life. Not like me.”
“All this time,” she said softly, “I thought he’d wronged you somehow. That if what we were doing—bringing Holly here to fix the past—hurt him, that was okay in some strange way. But now I see that all Ryan ever did was be born the only child of Samuel and Vanessa Cutty.” She shook her head. “That’s not a crime, Dan. You of all people should know better than to blame someone for the circumstances of their birth.”
She walked out of the apartment. She was in the hallway when he grabbed her from behind, his fingers digging into her arm, a murderous gleam in his eyes as he jerked her around.
She stared up at him, defiant. “Are you going to hit me? Right here for all your ritzo neighbors to see? Big macho Daniel, on top again? Come on, Dan. Take a whack. You want the publicity, don’t you?”
Hit me, dammit. She wanted to hurt on the outside as much as she hurt on the inside.
But Daniel took a step back, dropping her arm. She didn’t bother to wait for his apology, never looking back even when he called her name.
You’re on the wrong side.
That’s what Harris had told her.
Only, he hadn�
�t figured out that she’d always been on the wrong side. From the time she’d been ten years old and saw Daniel walk into the kitchen wearing his new waiter’s uniform.
All those emotions, so powerful and dangerous. And Nina had known how to take advantage of it. She’d always known. Even now, dead all these years, Nina still had the last laugh.
28
Holly sat in Daniel’s office, her legs crossed at the ankles. She was perched on the leather chair in front of his desk, listening to Daniel’s version of the facts. She was thinking she should feel something, anything. But even the pain where she’d hit her head seemed muffled, as if the injury had happened weeks ago and what she felt was just a memory.
Daniel had come around to stand beside her, not wanting any barriers between them. Listening to him, she was struck by how different the story sounded coming from him. But then, everyone had their point of view, and now here was Daniel giving his. Only, Holly was having trouble remembering the words, wasn’t paying strict attention.
She wondered if the wrapped-in-cotton sensation came from lack of sleep. Or the concussion, maybe? The doctors had given all these instructions. If you feel faint or nauseated. They’d given her pills. But the funny thing was, she didn’t feel a thing.
“You still with me, Holly?” Daniel asked, catching on to her lack of affect.
“Of course.”
She’d come to Cutty House to meet with Daniel one last time. It probably wasn’t the smartest move. It’s like Harris had told her after Daniel called her at the apartment asking to meet. Do you really expect him to confess, Hol?
But Daniel had insisted on one last chance to plead his case. You can’t convict a man without at least hearing him out. That was Daniel’s take on things.
He wanted to talk. Only, Holly had come to believe that, with a man like Daniel, words seemed more than useless. They were perhaps even a hindrance. She couldn’t know if he was lying because, basically, everything about him was an act. Welcome to the Daniel East show….
“I can appreciate that in your mind I’m the chief suspect,” he told her, looking only too sincere. A slight frown, a purse of the lips, a pregnant pause well rehearsed. “Now honey, you know I couldn’t do that to you.”
She tried to stop seeing everything he did as a production number, but he even had the blocking down. Walk earnestly downstage, turn to look back at the audience.
“Let’s talk motive,” he said, coming around to her again. “I hired you to save my ass. I need Cutty House to survive. And I can’t get there from here without you, see? You think I’d put that at stake? Me? Greedy little Danny—”
She held up her hand, suddenly tired of playing the audience. Let’s skip the dog and pony show, shall we? “The accident,” she said. “The driver said my brother sent him.”
“And I’m the only one who knows Harris is the magic word for you?” He clucked his tongue. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you’d trust someone if they claimed your brother arranged for a car to take you home.”
“An interesting choice of words, Daniel.”
The driver’s exact words: Your brother arranged for a car to take you home.
But his face gave nothing away. Standing there in his GQ best, the man was the picture of earnest. Holly shut her eyes, trying not to put a big check mark on Daniel. Shake off the fog, Holly. Focus.
“Whoever put me in that car knew about the party,” she said, making her point. “That Ryan and I would both be there. That I might want to leave in a hurry.”
“And I’m the best candidate? Was I even the reason you were, how did you put it, leaving in a hurry?” Bringing her back to Ryan, the shady character of this particular drama.
But Holly had her own theories. “Daniel, what about the article in the paper this morning?”
Finally, the lightbulb flashed on. He dropped her hands, stepping back, actually pulling off an expression of surprise.
“You think I set up the accident for publicity?” He took another step back, as if putting distance between himself and the accusation. “I admit to being a publicity whore, but even I stop at attempted murder. Look, when I saw you with Ryan, I let my emotions get away from me….” The words trailed off, silence his new friend. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I never gave up on you, Holly. Even when the chips were down and your firm bankrupt. Don’t you give up on me.”
But she was shaking her head, not going down that garden path with Daniel. The truth was, she’d come here exactly to give up—on Daniel and just about everything else she’d been holding on to. She’d promised Harris that she’d tell Daniel she was leaving. Giving in, giving up.
Which made it kind of interesting that she hadn’t even broached the subject yet, hadn’t even suggested this might be the end. Instead, she’d let Daniel do all the talking.
“A lot is going on right now.” She tripped over the words, knowing it was all wrong. Time to throw in the towel, Holly. “There’s so much to think about.”
So just say it, tell him you’re leaving.
The words stuck in her throat.
“I understand,” he said, sensing her weakness, using it now in his defense. “I just want you to be careful. After last night…well, things are getting a little more exciting than I’d like, okay?”
“I’ll let you know what I decide,” she said. It was the best she could do—a hint that she might not return.
Fifteen minutes later, she was in her office staring at the plans she’d drafted for Cutty House. Of course, she’d let her brother down, she hadn’t gotten the job done. And still, there was this curious lack of emotion. She wasn’t even worried about what would happen when she arrived back at the apartment to face the music. And she should be. She’d let Harris believe she’d come here to give notice. Knowing her brother, he’d be on the Internet pricing fares.
And there was no excuse. Not really. She should leave. Today. This minute. Cutty House wasn’t a failure like the episode with Drew, letting him wrestle the business and marriage away from her because she’d been unwilling to fight. This wasn’t a fight. Not anymore.
She had to leave those unanswered questions. All of it. Even Ryan, whom she was putting in danger by staying.
Harris was right.
You can’t fix this, Hol.
Maybe no one could.
Harris hadn’t expected Emma. He hadn’t made any plans to confront her. It was like he’d told Holly that morning. Sometimes it’s best just to walk away.
But there she was, waiting for him at the bar.
It was early lunch, with the place surprisingly doing a brisk business. He came over to sit beside her. It was almost interesting how he felt nothing, just all dead inside.
“I called the bar,” she said. “They told me you were expected.”
He nodded, never taking his eyes off her. She was this beautiful creature, Emma. Petite and blond, with green eyes that were judiciously avoiding his. Hard to imagine her being involved in what had happened to his sister. But that was a man for you, a walking, talking libido.
“I heard what happened to Holly.” She really couldn’t look at him, not a good sign. “I just wanted to say how sorry—”
“Here’s how it’s going to be, Emma. Last night some man told my sister I’d hired him to drive her home. She got in his car and was almost killed in some bizarre reenactment of Nina’s death. Unfortunately, you had something to do with that. So tell me everything, or leave. Right now.”
He was good with the ultimatums. Old tomatoes, Holly used to call them. Don’t throw your old tomatoes at me, Harris.
Emma stared down at her hands on the bar. “It’s not…it’s not like that.” She shook her head, fighting some internal battle. “It’s not so simple.” She spoke so softly, he could barely hear her.
He took her hand and squeezed a little. “Emma, listen to me.”
She looked up, her eyes full of tears.
“It is incredibly simple,” he said. “You
tell the truth. I can’t think of anything simpler than that.”
He hadn’t meant to sound as if he’d already branded her the enemy. But he’d known all along who she’d choose even before she looked away.
She slid off the stool and walked out of the bar. She never even glanced back. Not once.
He hadn’t wanted it to be Emma. Anybody but her.
He slammed his hand on the counter. “Shit.” And then harder, another time, so that it hurt. “Shit!”
Lieutenant Inspector Amy Garten did him the favor of calling before she left the station, giving him the heads up that she was coming out to the vineyard.
Ryan watched her get out of the car and look around. She’d aged well, the lieutenant. He understood she’d gone up in the ranks and was now the Chief of Homicide. As she walked toward him, he could see she’d maintained that professional edge you had to admire, even when you were sitting on the wrong side of a question from her. It must come in handy, he thought, when interrogating suspects.
That would be him, of course. The suspect.
She’d told him that someone had phoned in a tip about the accident last night. She had some information she thought might be of interest to him. She’d come to tell Ryan in person what she’d found.
Which meant she wanted to see his reaction, the guilty man’s expression when faced with the facts.
“Long drive up,” she said, starting in casually. “Pretty here. I should bring my husband sometime.” She smiled. “Beats the homicide detail any day of the week.”
“Why don’t we talk in my office,” he said, making it easier for her.
Inside, he didn’t know what to expect as he offered her a chair, then leaned up against his desk. Maybe a tape recorder slapped on the desk, a flash of her badge and his Miranda rights. Other than reporting the vehicle abandoned on the highway, neither he nor Holly had gotten around to talking to the police. But he figured with the story in the paper this morning, it was just a matter of time.
Interesting that he didn’t feel the least bit worried about it. More like resigned, as if this would always be his life. Nina and the murder merry-go-round. A bad tape looping over and over.