by Naomi Niles
"Stuart."
Chapter Sixty-Two: Tate
"She's finally asleep," I said with an exhausted sigh as I entered the living room where Detective Miller was supervising his team of investigators while my attorney Thomas Tandy watched skeptically from the corner. Emma sat on the couch with Halle resting on her lap, the two of them looking as wiped out as I felt. I'd left Scott Roberts, my chauffeur and bodyguard, outside the bedroom door to keep a vigilant watch over Rachelle as she slept in the master bedroom. He was the one man I trusted more than anyone, and I knew he would protect her with his life.
Climbing up off Emma's lap, Halle tugged at my jacket and wailed plaintively, "I want to see her!"
"You can't, I just told you she's asleep," I explained gently.
"I want to see her now!" she screamed unhappily, and I was taken aback by the tone of her pitch.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but the doctor says Rachelle needs to sleep. I know it looked scary, but she wasn't seriously hurt. The doctor says she's going to be just fine, but the day was upsetting for her, so he gave her some medicine to make her sleep, so she can rest. You can see her tomorrow."
"No, not Rachelle! I want to see Mommy! Where is she? I want Mommy now!" Halle flung her small body onto the ground and started flailing her arms and legs in a rare temper tantrum.
My daughter was so mature for her age, and usually so well behaved, it was easy to forget she wasn't yet four years old. After the emotional strain of seeing me carry Rachelle into the house with her throat bleeding and having the police arrive with their sirens blaring, it was a wonder Halle had held her composure for as long as she had. If given the choice, I'd have thrown myself on the floor in a tantrum, too. I was mad as hell over what had happened, but for the sake of my daughter, I had to act like I was calm and in control.
"Stop that behavior, right now, young lady," I said with such sternness, Halle silenced her cries mid-scream. I pulled her into my arms lovingly and wiped the tears from her red, chubby cheeks. "That's better. Everything is going to be okay. I promise."
It was a vow I didn't know I could keep, but I hated to see my little girl in fear, and I knew that's what had prompted the uncharacteristic tantrum. Kissing her forehead, I hugged her warmly until I felt the tension ease from of her little body.
"Emma, can you take Halle to the nursery for me?" I set her back gently on the ground.
"Certainly." My beloved aging housekeeper nodded. She took the Halle by the hand and led her towards the stairs.
"Can we go to Mommy's room and see her?" Halle asked Emma, and I could tell she didn't know what to say.
"Not right now," I answered for her. I didn't like disappointing my daughter, but I had no choice. Missy was gone.
When I told Missy I needed her to move out, she had been mad as hell, just like I’d predicted. She snatched my wallet from my pocket, removed all the cash, and shoved it far down her cleavage, shouting out, "Fine. I'll find a place to stay where I'm wanted, but not until I've had some fun first, and you're going to pay for it."
Then she stomped through the house to the garage. She took the keys to my favorite Camaro and peeled out of the driveway. I thought about calling the police to report the car stolen, but what good would that really do?
That's when I heard Halle calling out to Emma that Rachelle was missing, and instantly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew instinctively something far worse than my car being taken had happened, and I rushed to the garden.
Thank God I was the one who found Rachelle laying in the garden, not Halle. I held her close while Emma called Detective Miller. The police arrived right away, performing a thorough search of the house and surrounding area, but Stuart was nowhere to be found. Neither was Missy.
"Why can't I see Mommy now?" Halle wouldn't let the matter drop.
"She just needs some alone time," I tried to soothe my daughter. "You know the lights from police cars make her nervous."
"Damn cops. You can't trust the pigs," Halle said, clearly mimicking her mother. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. "They pick on the innocent and let the guilty go free."
Detective Mitch Miller particularly prickled under the insult. Rubbing his rough jaw, he crouched down low in front of my daughter. "You know, the duty of a police officer is to protect and serve the public. We're not the bad guys; we keep you safe from them."
"You didn't keep Rachelle safe," Halle observed, and I had to agree.
My blood still boiled hot with rage every time I thought about how close I came to losing Rachelle in my own the garden. She should have been safe there, but she was nearly killed while I was talking to Missy, and the police and security did nothing to protect her. Everyone had let Rachelle down, especially me.
Although I hated myself for it, a part of me wished Missy had never come to stay with me; then I never would have left Rachelle's side to go talk to her. Or even worse, that Stuart had attacked Missy instead of Rachelle, but that was too horrible a thought to even consider. I owed Missy my life. She had saved me from Stuart's blade the first time he'd broken into my home and tried to kill me. In some ways, Missy had done more to protect us than the damn cops.
Why the hell was Stuart Haynes still loose on the streets? How was it possible that these incompetent cops hadn't captured him yet? In many ways, this attack on Rachelle had been their fault and if she had died, I'd have sued the whole fucking department, and every fucking one of them would be fired. Taking a deep breath, I forced my hands to unclench and tried to stay calm for Halle's sake.
"We'll keep you all safe from now on," Miller was saying to Halle as he knelt on the floor in front of her to be face to face with her.
She reached out and touched the deep, ugly scar above his left eye with the innocence of a child. "Did you get this fighting a bad guy?"
"Yes, but I caught him, and he's in prison now for a long time," Miller reassured her.
"Will Rachelle have a scar like that on her neck?" Her little hand unconsciously hugged her own throat protectively.
Miller shook his head confidentially and said, "No, barely even a little one. The doctor said it was just a surface scratch, and she'll be fine. And, I'm going to catch the man who hurt her. You can count on me."
Halle looked satisfied with his answer and finally let Emma lead her back to the nursery. Once she was gone, Miller turned to me and said jovially, "Your kid is smart and not afraid to speak her mind, but you'll have to teach her the difference between telling the truth and spouting insulting lies."
"I don't think so. I think Halle hit the nail right on the head," I bristled. "Especially the part about the cops not protecting Rachelle because the real bad guy got away."
"It looks like our information was right; Stuart Haynes was in the area, just like I warned you." Miller wasn't the least bit contrite – in fact, he had the nerve to gloat. "You should have gone into protective custody like I'd offered and none of this would have happened."
"Fuck you." I couldn't hold my tempter back any longer. "If you'd have done your job and arrested that son-of-a-bitch, Rachelle wouldn't have been hurt today. Because you failed at your job, I can't believe any of us would have been any safer in your custody. In fact, we'd probably all be dead.
“You've always sucked at your job, Detective Miller – from the moment you wrongfully suspected me of the murder Stuart committed all the way to this moment. It's because of you that he's running around free. Why don't you fucking resign?"
"I'm damn good at my job, but rich assholes like you think you're above the law. You hid evidence from me by keeping your secret little sex room a secret; now you blame me for not being able to catch the murderer. Then you failed to listen to my advice and go into protective custody, and now you're blaming for me for the resulting assault. If that girl had died, her blood would have been on your hands, not mine." Miller strode towards me angrily.
It was just him and me in the room now, with Tandy standing between us. The d
ebonair defense attorney held out his arms, keeping us apart with his usual suaveness, but the tension in the room was reflected in his voice.
"Take it easy," Tandy said to both me and Miller, his eyes dashing nervously between the two of us. "It's been a difficult day, and everyone is feeling the strain. Let's not say or do anything that either of you will regret. It will just create a lot of paperwork and fees when we could just be drinking a nice bottle of scotch instead."
The joke helped lighten the mood and both Miller and I stepped back from each other and sat on opposite ends of the designer couch I'd had brought over from Italy.
Following Tandy's wise lead, I strolled over to the bar and opened my best bottle of scotch. Filling three shot glasses, I passed them around, and we all drank silently, letting the liquid soothe away our tensions. After the second round, Miller set his glass upside down on the table and began to speak somberly.
"I wanted to put more men on patrol around the house. You were right. We could have done a better job finding Stuart and protecting the residence," he confessed in a mumble that was barely intelligible, but I appreciated it nonetheless. It must not have been easy for him to say.
Still, I couldn't help but needle him by asking, "So, why didn't you?"
"The damn budget at the station is too strained, and no one would authorize the overtime."
"Hell, I'll pay the fucking overtime." I stood up with a lightheaded sway, angered once again by the ludicrous inadequacies of bureaucracy. "I'm a billionaire, for fuck's sake. How much money do you fucking do you need? I'll write a check today."
"It doesn't work that way. We're officers of the law. We can't just let some billionaire from Beverly Hills buy special treatment from the police force. We have our integrity." Miller was on his feet now, too, and once again Tandy was stuck in the middle, only now we were all a little drunk, and our inhibitions were lowered.
"But you can let some murderous asshole run free around the city. What kind of integrity do you call that?" I shoved him.
"I'm not about to take moral lessons from some playboy billionaire who keeps a sex room hidden in his house and lies to investigators. If you had been honest from the start, maybe Haynes would have been arrested back in the beginning." Miller shoved me back even harder.
"With your detective skills and a police department of fumbling morons, I fucking doubt it!" I was shouting now.
"Calm down before one of you does something you can't take back." Tandy stepped between us, holding me back with his straightened arm. Suddenly, I realized just how out of hand things were getting. I took a step back, forcing myself to breathe while Miller pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and started puffing.
Once he was certain we wouldn't come to blows, Tandy straightened his tie and said, "Detective, I'm certain you have a lot of work to do at the precinct. Let me show you to your car."
"I know the way. I may not have the backing from the department, but one day, I'm going to catch the asshole responsible for all this, and he'll regret all he's done." Miller stomped towards the door, but I wasn't sure if he meant me or Stuart. Either way, at least he was gone.
Then Tandy turned to me and said, "You can't go around bribing police detectives to put extra patrols around your house. Miller's right; it doesn't work that way. It's been a long day. Why don't you call it a night?"
"I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I'm too wound up," I said, pacing the room. I couldn't get over the anger I felt over what had happened to Rachelle. At least she didn't have to go to the hospital or have surgery, but the fear of losing her was no less intense than if she had. I finally understood what she must have felt seeing me get stabbed by Stuart, and I felt even more respect for her for handling it so well.
Tandy said, "Well then, spend some time with your kid or swim some laps in your pool. I'm going to the office to take care of some things. Don't worry; Miller is more motivated than ever to catch Stuart Haynes, and with all the evidence he collected during his investigation of the yard today, he's sure to find him soon."
"Not soon enough. It's time I took things into my own hands," I insisted under my breath. Tandy looked up at me, not sure what he had heard.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. Thanks for all your hard work. You're right. I just need to relax. I think I will go for that swim, after all." I shook his hand and led him to the front door. Tandy looked dubious, but as my hired attorney, there was nothing he could really say, so he left.
I was going to fix things on my own and find a way to protect my household and everybody in it. Stuart Haynes was not going to hurt anyone I cared about, no matter what it took. I just wished I knew what I could do because everything so far had failed – and the next time it could end in someone's death.
Chapter Sixty-Three: Rachelle
I woke with a start and clutched my hand to my pounding heart. It took me a moment to realize the nightmare wasn't real. I was no longer in the garden being crushed by Stuart as he threatened to slice my throat and kill two of the people I loved most. I was safe inside the Holland mansion, in the master bedroom suite, with the morning light shining through the curtains, sitting in the king-sized bed I was coming to think of as my own.
Next to me was a warm body, but it wasn't Tate. It was Halle, with her thick dark hair flowing around her in a shower of unruly curls. Someone had dressed her in her favorite pink pajama top with a picture of a unicorn on it, but the pink bottoms weren't the right ones and featured little frolicking puppies. The mismatched clothes lead me to believe Tate must have relieved Emma for the night and gotten Halle ready for bed himself.
On the other side of Halle, squeezed onto the edge of the bed so he was nearly falling off, Tate lay sleeping soundly. He was wearing gray pajama bottoms with a white tee-shirt stretched tightly over his strong chest, spooning his daughter as she snuggled against him with her cheek resting on his pectoral muscles. His hand cupped her little head protectively, and I couldn't help but sigh at the perfect picture of a family they made.
God, I loved them both so much, more than I ever would have thought possible.
I loved my parents, of course, but I had grown up an only child with few friends and even fewer boyfriends. When my father died, it had been a devastating loss; but over time, both the pain and the memories had faded, and now he was just fragmented pictures in my mind. I still had Mama, and I loved her dearly, of course, but a daughter's love for her mother is one of always pulling away, wanting to make her proud while proving one's independence. That's why I had gotten a teaching degree, so I could make my own living as a teacher and move away from her.
Mama's diagnosis of cancer had changed all that, and my fear of losing her like I had my father had made me desperate to cling to her. There was nothing I wouldn't do for my mother, including taking a job that required me to sleep with my boss if it paid well enough. I'd viewed the job offer to work in Holland Mansion to be a godsend that would allow to save my mother by paying for the best medical treatment possible.
I never would have guessed back in beginning that the job would mean nothing to me compared to the people it brought into my life.
Halle had been sweet and precocious, but the time I'd spent teaching kindergarten had taught me to view my charges with a certain detachment. I never would have imagined that I could grow to love her as if she were my own daughter; and yet, looking at her now as she slept with her favorite stuffed giraffe clutched to her chubby cheek, I knew I loved her as much as any mother loved their God-given baby. Halle was the daughter of my heart, if not by blood, and there was nothing in this world I wouldn't do for her.
Tate had seemed so charming when I first met him, but also mysterious, powerful, and perhaps even dangerous. I thought that's what attracted me to him, or perhaps it was his bold confidence. Either way, the sexual chemistry between us had been undeniable from the start. When he put his mouth on my body, it was like currents of electricity were stimulating the pleasure centers of my brain, and th
e orgasms he gave me were like nothing I'd ever experienced. I wanted more of him, like a drug – and more of him was what I got, only not in the way I would have anticipated.
When Tate gazed into my eyes with his hazel green ones, I could see straight into his soul. There was a tender side to him beyond the confident billionaire playboy, one of a vulnerable boy yearning for love and acceptance. It resonated with the places deep in my heart that longed for the same, and we found it in each other. I knew without any doubts that Tate Holland loved me with all his heart and soul and that he would do anything for me.
What's more, I knew I felt just as strongly for him. He wasn't the boss I was having taboo sex with, or even the boyfriend I was living with – Tate was my soulmate with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life.
Seeing Tate and Halle laying cuddled together in the bed beside me, knowing they had both wanted to sleep near me all night long, nothing was clearer. I wanted to be a part of their family.
Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. There were too many obstacles. Missy wanting me out of the way so she could take custody of Halle, Stuart lurking somewhere threatening to hurt us… I couldn't handle the pain of losing one or both of them.
I had to force myself to accept that some people were never meant to be happy, and fate had clearly decreed that I was never to be a part of the Holland family. Too many obstacles had been thrown in our path and Stuart's attack on me yesterday in the garden was a reminder of that. The peaceful happiness I longed for would never be mine.
"Rachelle, why are you crying?" Halle's sweet young voice startled me from my thoughts, and I looked down to see her hazel green eyes staring up at me. I touched my fingers to my cheeks and felt they were wet.
"I guess I had a nightmare," I said, my voice a little raspy.