by Amy Brent
Well, that wasn't true. She knew where she really needed to begin.
Nicole took a deep breath and let it out as a long sigh. “I'm pregnant.”
“Wow.” Tanya toyed with her fork, chewing on her lower lip as she seemed to consider what to say. “Is that...are you happy?”
“I don't know,” Nicole said. “I mean, part of me is. But I've only been seeing Horatio for a couple of months. I'm not sure we're ready for this.” She didn't know how to bring up her other concerns: Horatio's odd behavior, the strange way he'd acted on the phone, and her worry that there was something else going on that she didn't know about.
“But isn't he like, rich or something?” Tanya asked. “That's good, right? I mean, he'll help take care of you and the baby.”
“I'm sure he will,” Nicole said. “That's not what I'm worried about?”
“Then what is it?”
Nicole looked off into the distance, trying to sort through her thoughts. She didn't know how to put the pieces together. The strange phone calls. Horatio's secretive behavior. The frequent trips overseas. “I don't know. I guess...I guess I'm just worried that I don't know enough about him. Not enough to want to raise a child together.”
“That's rough,” Tanya said. “But you've got time, right? Nine months to get to know each other. Maybe that'll be all it takes.”
“Yeah,” Nicole said in a noncommittal tone. “Yeah, maybe it will be.”
Nicole spent the rest of the night trying to keep herself in a good mood. She was almost certain that her concerns were nothing more than paranoia, brought about by stress, hormones, and the longing she felt for her lover when he was away on business. Everything would be fine, she told herself, when Horatio came back home and she could celebrate their baby together in person.
All of her reassurances fell apart, however, when she came home to find two strange men waiting for her outside her apartment.
“Nicole Willis?” one of the men asked. They were both tall, muscular men, wearing dark suits.
“Umm...yes?” She looked between them, wondering who they were and what this was all about.
“My name is Agent Stevens, this is Agent Conners.” He flashed her a government ID and badge. “We'd like to ask you a few questions.”
Nicole's heart started to race. What were these men doing at her home? She tried to think of anything she could have done to warrant an investigation by government agents, but nothing came to mind. The worst crime she'd ever committed was being late paying for a speeding ticket. She barely even cheated on her taxes.
“What...what is this about?” She looked from one agent to the other, her eyes wide. Her mouth felt dry and there was a sick churning in her stomach.
“Can we discuss that inside?” Agent Stevens asked. He stepped to the side and gestured towards her apartment door.
“Umm. All right. I guess so.”
She walked past the men, fumbling to get her keys out of her purse. She wondered for a moment if this was some kind of prank, or a scam. A momentary fear flashed in her mind that these men were thieves or con artists, using fake badges to get into her home. But something about the serious look on their faces told her that they were for real.
Nicole turned on the lights in her apartment, and then sat down on the couch, clutching her purse in her lap. Agent Conners shut the door after he entered, and then remained standing. Agent Stevens moved some clothes off the chair across from Nicole, and then sat down. He looked her in the eye, a stern expression on his face.
“Can you tell me what's going on?” Nicole asked.
“Ms. Willis,” he asked, “are you familiar with a man named Horatio Cameron?”
She nodded, licking her dry lips. “Yes. Yes, he's my boyfriend.”
“And what about a man named Igor Romanov?”
Nicole shook her head, frowning. “Who?”
Agent Stevens leaned forward, frowning at her. “Igor Romanov. Russian businessman, doing business here in the States, in Philadelphia. Are you saying you don't know him?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Nicole clutched her purse tighter. She couldn't understand what was going on, or whether or not she was in some kind of trouble.
Agent Stevens reached into his jacket. Nicole tensed, sitting up straighter. He pulled out a phone, turned it on, and tapped a few commands, then turned the screen towards her. There was a photo of a dark-haired man with a short beard. It was a man she was sure she'd never seen before.
“I don't know who that is,” she said.
“So you're claiming you've never had any contact with Mr. Romanov,” he said.
“Of course, I haven't. What is this all about?”
Agent Stevens put the phone away. “How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Cameron?”
Nicole shook her head in confusion, thrown off by the sudden change in subjects. “Horatio? What does he have to do with this?”
“Just answer the question please, ma'am.” Agent Stevens folded his hands and gave her a stern look. “Your relationship with Mr. Cameron?”
“We're dating,” she said.
“Are you sleeping together?”
“Now that is none of your damn business.” Nicole glared at the two men, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Listen, I don't know who you are or how you think you can just come into my home and ask me about my personal life, but—”
“Ms. Willis, we'll ask the questions, if you don't mind.”
“I sure as hell do mind,” Nicole said. She stood up, glaring down at the man. “What the hell is this about, anyway? Shouldn't I have a lawyer here?”
The two agents exchanged a look. Agent Stevens stood up, looking down at her. “We're just talking here,” he said.
“Not anymore.” Nicole pointed at the door. “I want you out of my house. If you want to ask me any more of your damn invasive questions, you can talk to my lawyer.”
Agent Stevens ground his teeth, but said nothing. He obviously knew he was stuck now. Nicole didn't know much about the law, but she knew she didn't have to answer any questions if she didn't want to.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to her and said, “If you change your mind and decide you want to talk, give us a call. Keep in mind; it will be in your best interest if you cooperate.”
Nicole snatched the card away from him. “Cooperate in what? You haven't even told me what this is about.”
“I'd be happy to discuss that with you,” he said, “if you'll just answer a few more questions.”
“Forget it.” Nicole gestured to the door. “Out. Go. I want you out of my home.”
“Very well,” Agent Stevens said. “Have a nice day, ma'am.”
The two men left and Nicole locked the door behind them. Then she leaned against it, her chest heaving as she fought off sobs. She slid down to the ground, leaning back against the door. Tears welled in her eyes. She stared at the agent's card, unable to process what had just happened.
As soon as she composed herself enough that she could think straight, she pulled out her phone and dialed Horatio's number.
7
* * *
Nicole's hands were shaking while she waited for Horatio to answer the phone. It rang and rang, and for a long, grueling moment, she thought he was ignoring her call. Then he answered, his voice sounding sleepy. “Nicole? Is everything all right?”
“No,” she said. “Everything isn't all right.”
She heard a rustling sound, and realized it was Horatio getting out of bed. She'd forgotten about the time difference where he was. She must have awaked him in the middle of the night. “What's wrong?”
“There were men,” she said. “Men who said they were from the government. They came to my apartment.” She explained everything she could about her encounter with the two agents, though none of it made any sense to her and she found herself fumbling over her words.
“Damn,” Horatio muttered. “I told them...”
> “Told them what?” Nicole felt her chest tighten. “Horatio? What's going on? Do you know what this is about?”
He let out a long sigh. “It's...complicated.”
“Well, you'd damn well better uncomplicate it,” she said. “Now.”
“I can't explain this over the phone.”
“Don't give me that. Horatio, these men came to my home. If you know what's going on, you need to tell me, now.”
“I'll explain everything as soon as I can,” he said. “You're going to have to trust me.”
“Horatio...”
“Nicole, dear,” Horatio said. “Please. I promise you that this had nothing to do with you. It's my fault. I told them they didn't need to bother you, but they didn't listen.”
“What? Horatio, you talked to these men? What do they want?” Her hand clenched into a fist. She felt herself shaking from head to toe.
“I'll explain as soon as I can,” he said. “It's nothing to worry about. Just some...business trouble.”
“Business trouble?” She glared at her phone for a second, wishing Horatio was there so she could smack him upside his head. “Horatio, this wasn't the IRS or something. These were government agents. Are you doing something illegal?”
Horatio sighed. “No, Nicole. No, I promise it's nothing like that. But you need to believe me when I tell you that I can't talk about it. Not now. Not until I see you in person.”
Nicole ground her teeth, but she couldn't think of anything to say in response. As much as she didn't like to admit it, this really wasn't the sort of conversation to be had over the phone. “I want to see you the second you get back here. You need to explain this to me.”
“I will,” he said. “I promise. I'll see if I can get an earlier flight. And I'll explain everything. Don't worry.”
“You'd better,” she said.
“I will. And Nicole...I hope you know that I love you.”
She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the door. That was the first time he'd uttered those words to her. She wanted to be angry at him for saying it now, under these circumstances. It wasn't fair. But she couldn't be mad at him. Not when his words made her realize how much she loved him too.
“I love you,” she said. “You'd better get your ass back here soon.”
“I will. I promise.”
Nicole hung up the phone, and then sat there on the floor for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Her head was spinning and she felt like her entire world had been turned upside down. She didn't know what to do or what to think. And the only person that could give her any answers was on the other side of the world.
She just had to force herself to believe him, and to trust him when he said that everything would be all right.
8
* * *
A few days later, Nicole was working a long shift in the emergency room. She had barely heard from Horatio since the last time she spoke to him on the phone. He'd texted her a few times, letting her know that he had found an earlier flight back, and that he would come see her as soon as he “took care of this situation.” She didn't even know what that meant, or how he could do anything about the government agents that had come harassing her at her home. She imagined him bribing them to get them to leave her alone, but somehow that didn't seem like Horatio's style. He might be rich, but he didn't seem like the sort of person to throw his money around in order to get what he wanted.
Her thoughts remained plagued by the confusing situation throughout her shift. Fortunately, the patients coming into the emergency room, for the most part, weren't in critical condition. She tended to a young girl who came in complaining of scoliosis-related back pain, and then was released after the doctor gave her a prescription for pain relief medication. A mother brought her baby in, complaining that he had an unusual rash, but it turned out to be nothing that a medicated cream couldn't cure. And while there were plenty of other patients that required a bit more attention and time, no one had come in with any serious or life-threatening conditions. Until the end of the night, that is.
They got the call at almost 8.00 PM. The emergency room doctor came rushing in, shouting at the nurses to prep for an incoming patient. “Shooting at a downtown strip club. One gunshot victim coming in. Critical condition.”
Nicole's heart started to race. She had never dealt with a gunshot victim before. She had undergone training for such emergencies, but this was the first time such a thing had ever come into her hospital. It took a few moments for her mind to overcome the shock, then her training took over and she started helping prep for the incoming patient. She helped the other nurses gather the necessary supplies and prepare the operating room. Then there was a tense few moments of waiting until the ambulance arrived.
As soon as the ambulance arrived, the paramedics unloaded the wheeled stretcher from the back and rushed the patient into the hospital. He was moved immediately into the operating room, where the staff started prepping him for surgery. There was an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask over his face. Blood stained his clothes, leaving dark patches over the black silken material of his suit. When they started cutting his shirt open to get clear access to the gunshot wounds, they found an empty gun holster hidden beneath his jacket, making Nicole wonder for a moment if he was some kind of undercover police officer. Then she got a better look at his face beneath the oxygen mask.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
It was Horatio.
* * *
* * *
* * *
Nicole stumbled back out of the operating room, clutching at her chest. The doctor glanced at her and shouted, “Nicole! We need you back in here now.”
“I...I can't,” she said, gasping for air. “That's my...that's my...”
The doctor turned his full attention back to his patient. “Someone get her out of here. And get me another nurse down here, stat.”
Nicole leaned against the wall, one hand pressed against her chest. The room was spinning. She couldn't think, couldn't move. She stood there, swaying on her feet, until one of the hospital security guards came over and took her by the arm, leading her down to an empty bed in the emergency room. He laid her down on it, and then closed off the curtain between her and the patient in the next bed.
“Are you okay, Nicole?” he asked. “What's the matter? Are you sick?”
She shook her head, unable to think clearly enough to speak. She put a hand over her eyes, squeezing her eyes shut tight, trying to block out the image of Horatio on the operating table, covered in blood. She couldn't stop seeing it. She told herself she had to be wrong. It couldn't have been him. It didn't make any sense. What would Horatio have been doing at a strip club? How could he have gotten shot?
“I'm going to get you some water,” the guard said. “Wait here. Don't try to get up.”
Nicole couldn't have gotten up if she tried. She laid there until the guard returned and handed her a bottle of water. She took it and fumbled with the cap, but her hands were shaking too much to get it open.
“Here,” the guard said, taking the bottle from her. “Let me get that for you.”
He opened the bottle and handed it back to her. She raised it to her lips, spilling a bit on the front of her shirt. She gulped down some water, and then pressed the cold bottle against her forehead.
“How are you doing, Nicole?” the guard asked, patting her hand.
“I feel like I've gone crazy. That...that couldn't have been him.”
“Him who?” he asked.
“My boyfriend. He's...he's the one they brought in.”
“The gunshot victim?” The guard frowned, looking over his shoulder towards the operating room. “What happened to him? Do you know how he got shot?”
“No, I have no idea. I didn't even think he...I had no idea that he...” She took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself. Nothing made any sense. She couldn't find her center. She couldn't even steady herself enough to think the situation through logically.
&nbs
p; Her first thought, the only way she could make the situation begin to make sense, was that Horatio had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then, why was he wearing a holster? Maybe, she thought, he had a gun for personal protection. It wouldn't be unheard of for a wealthy man to take such measures to protect himself. Maybe it had been an attempted robbery.
That almost made sense. She could picture some crook seeing Horatio, with his fancy suit and his expensive car, and deciding to rob him. Or maybe someone had seen him take his wallet out at the strip club. She was a bit disgusted at the thought that her boyfriend had gone to such a place, especially since he wasn't even supposed to be back in the country for another day or two, but she pushed that thought aside. He had obviously been there, whatever the reason. And if someone had seen the hundred dollar bills in his wallet, they might have tried to rob him. And maybe Horatio had pulled out his own gun to defend himself. It was crazy, but she had seen crazier things.
“I'll be fine,” she told the guard. “I just...I just need some time to rest and get myself together.”
He patted her hand. “You let me know if you need anything, okay? I'll take care of it for you.”
He went back to his post, leaving Nicole laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. She knew she needed to get back up and get back to work. Even if she wasn't working with the doctor treating Horatio, there were other patients there that needed attention. But the thought of getting up made bile rise in her throat. She needed some time to steady herself.
And as soon as Horatio was out of surgery, she needed to find out what had happened to him.
9
* * *
Once Nicole was able to get on her feet again, she went to check on Horatio. By then, the doctor had stitched up his wounds, and Horatio had been moved to a recovery room. He was laying there, unconscious, his chest covered in bandages and an IV hanging beside his bed. She asked the doctor, and he said Horatio's condition was stable. It seemed that none of the bullets had hit any vital organs, though he had lost a lot of blood and would need time to recover.