Chapter Ten
As she stalked off into the master bedroom, Dylan let her go, his mind churning over the day’s events. Victory over Ted had been gratifying, true. Seeing Ted become the weaker man had let Dylan close that chapter of his past. He’d achieved everything he’d set out to do. He’d restored Maddy’s fortune, he’d established himself as an old money player, and he’d righted a wrong that Ted had perpetuated over the years, like bilking other people besides his sister.
Never in his plan, though, had Dylan expected Maddy’s reaction to be like this. They were married; it was the man’s job to provide. He’d done that. He lifted the silver domes covering the plates of food, seeing all his favorites. She’d planned a special meal for him.
He frowned. What this situation required was logical thinking. Logic never failed him: it had helped him achieve every one of his goals, from his millions to justice for his wife.
At this moment he had to concede that Maddy was like a high-strung filly. When she calmed down she’d see things in proper perspective, and she understand he’d done what was best. He’d profess his love again, this time doing it better, instead of in the middle of a fight where his declaration had fallen flat.
Guilt crept in for a moment, but he brushed the feeling aside. He would not regret his vow to protect her, or to seek his revenge. He’d planned this long ago, put things into motion the day he’d crossed paths with her on the sidewalk. Besides, by stopping Ted, he’d also helped many other innocent victims in the process. Hopefully they’d be able to recover their money as well.
As he had no intention of ever leaving Maddy, who cared about state laws that divvied up property in a divorce? She belonged with him, as she had since that first summer. He’d revolved his whole life around building a kingdom worthy of her. Her grandfather’s associates had accepted him. So what if their marriage had been a business deal? She’d been the only one for him. He realized that now. He wouldn’t ever let her go.
After she calmed down and thought it over, she’d see light and reason. She’d love him, and he her. Then she’d forgive him and this silly fight would be over. He'd make sure of it.
Maddy sat on a settee in the master bedroom and ran her fingers over the eagle feather Aunt Gail had given her. Aunt Gail had told her to remember the eagles. They’d returned to Knollwood Lake the same summer as Dylan. It would have been better if the eagles, and Dylan, had remained a distant memory.
Feeling like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest, Maddy dropped the feather in the trashcan and stared at the bed. She’d spent many long interludes making love to Dylan on those sheets. He’d held her close afterwards. No way could she sleep here, next to someone who would lie to her. She picked up the phone.
“Front desk. Charley,” said the pretty feminine voice.
“It’s Mrs. Blackwater. The valet line is busy. Will you have them send my car around?”
“I’ll be happy to take care of it. Your car will be out front in five minutes.”
“Thank you. Just don’t let my husband know. I forgot something, and if I run out while he’s sleeping it won’t spoil the surprise.”
Maddy replaced the phone on the nightstand and thought for a minute. More than likely Dylan was letting her have some calm-down time. Funny how rational she was. Once the pain stopped, a welcome numbness came. She would never be used again.
She went to her walk-in closet and pulled out her carry-on bag. She tossed the bare essentials into it. She could get a maximum of $300 per day from the ATM. That would get her away tonight. She’d leave while he suspected nothing. He’d stop her, and she feared that.
She and her child would make it. While Dylan may have stolen all her money, she had ten thousand dollars that was entirely hers. It hadn’t been enough to make a dent in the overdue taxes, but it would be enough to get her through the winter.
Aunt Gail’s cottage would be the one place he wouldn’t suspect. First, he’d assume that like North Star and Summerhaven, the building hadn’t been constructed to remain open all year. Second, he knew that the cottage now belonged to Jonathan and Jake, people Maddy hardly ever spoke to, much less kept in contact with. She could probably live in the cottage until April, giving her plenty of opportunity to make concrete plans.
She picked up her carry-on when she heard him enter the hall bathroom. Knowing he could pull phone records for the apartment and her cell phone, she knew couldn’t call anyone else until later, after she reached a hotel. She pulled on her winter coat, slipped out the bedroom door, grabbed her purse and escaped down the fire stairs, determined to put this part of her life behind her.
“Maddy?” Dylan pushed the bedroom door open. As soon as he had exited the hall bathroom, every nerve ending had gone on full alert. Something was very wrong.
He tossed his magazine on the king-sized bed and frowned. “Maddy?” He called again. He caught a glimpse of Aunt Gail’s eagle feather and removed it from the trashcan. Panic began to claw at him and he strode from room to room, pushing each door open. He searched closet and drawers. She’d left, carrying only the barest essentials. He dialed the phone.
“Front desk. Charley speaking.”
He somehow managed to make his voice sound normal. “Charley, Dylan Blackwater. Did my wife call down for her car?”
He heard Charley’s hesitation. “I’m worried, Charley,” Dylan cajoled. “She’s my wife and she didn’t tell me she was leaving.”
“She said she hoped she would be back before you woke up. I’m sorry if I ruined the surprise. She left about ten minutes ago.”
“Thank you.” Dylan replaced the receiver. Some surprise. You aren’t leaving me, Madison.
He reached for the phone again, but didn’t dial as sudden insight hit him. She didn’t believe he loved her. She didn’t believe anything, except that he’d used her and lied to her.
And he had, in a sense, used her. He had lied by omission. But he loved her, not her land. Perhaps some of the vows he’d made along the way were misguided. But not his wedding vows. Those he would not break. While he couldn’t change his past actions, he could change their future.
If they had a future. He gripped the phone and his knuckles paled. If she needed space, she could find it here. He’d stay out of her way. He’d grovel. He’d buy her dozens of roses, or he’d post his apologies publicly on billboards. Even go to one of those therapists, or get make a fool of himself on an episode of the Dr. Phil. Whatever it took.
He refused, though, to just let her vanish. Out there by herself, anything could happen. He needed her safe. He needed her, period. She belonged with him.
No, scrap that. Dylan recognized the old pattern of ego and dominance this time for what it was. She didn’t belong to him. That pig-head and misguided attitude had been what had cost him her love. He’d won her by force, by circumstance. She’d had no other options but to marry him. He’d possessed all but her heart.
He punched some numbers on the phone. No matter what, he had to find her, and bring her back. He loved her, even if she didn’t believe he knew what love was. Maybe he didn’t. But he needed her to teach him. He’d realized his mistakes, God forbid it be too late for forgiveness and for her to love him back.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwater, but there’s still no trace of your wife.”
As his private investigator spoke the words, Dylan’s last hope died. The wind howled outside, rattling the eastern office windows whose view revealed a furious and choppy Lake Michigan. It was as if the world herself were mad at him.
Hell, he deserved it.
Dylan ran a hand through his hair. The black locks had grown longer over the past four weeks, and he wound his fingers into the strands to control raw nerves.
The iron-fisted businessman that never failed had been reduced to a wreck of a man. He didn’t sleep; he hardly ate. After a month, not one of the five investigators on Carl’s team had found Madison. She’d wiped herself completely off the plan
et, and Dylan’s nerves snapped every time he thought that she could be in serious trouble.
They’d searched everywhere, even filed a missing persons report with the police. His personal investigators had gone to Summerhaven, Florida, and even St. Louis. The police weren’t much help; they cited Maddy’s withdrawal of money from her trust as proof that she was fine. They saw her disappearance as marital problems. Dylan didn’t give a damn about her reason; he just wanted her back.
Yet all this time later, and nothing. She’d left no trail of credit card receipts, no trail of transportation tickets or rentals. Even Ted honestly didn’t know where she was. His bravado and glee had faded when the six-foot-five giant Carl had showed up in Florida and demanded Maddy’s whereabouts. As the weeks stretched, Dylan had told his parents everything, and why only three would share the traditional Thanksgiving turkey.
Dylan stared out his office window. The lake tossed whitecaps into the air and visibility was low. Snow was predicted for later, ushering in the month of December and Christmas.
His phone buzzed, indicating his secretary had sent a call through. He’d told his secretary not to disturb him unless the matter was urgent. He picked up. “Dylan Blackwater.”
“Mr. Blackwater, this Lisa with Dr. Manqué’s office. You are Madison’s emergency contact, and we’re concerned about your wife. I’ve been unable to reach her at home, which is why I’m calling you. She forget her appointment and hasn’t called to reschedule.”
Dylan frowned. Why did Madison have an appointment with her gynecologist?
“She was unexpectedly called out of town for a family emergency,” he replied. “I assume she forgot to let you know.”
“Oh that’s understandable,” the woman on the end of the line said. “As she approved you on the privacy statement, I’m allowed to tell you how important it is that she gets proper care and be checked monthly to make certain there aren’t any complications. Will you have her call us when she arrives back in town?”
“I don’t know how long she’ll be gone,” Dylan replied. “Her aunt died.”
“Well, if it’s going to be a while then your wife should see a doctor in whatever area she’s in. While everything was fine with the ultrasound, we still should do another one at fifteen weeks.”
The woman’s words hit him like a knife in the gut. Dylan’s fingers tightened on the receiver and his knuckles whitened. Maddy was pregnant. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll let her know how important it is.”
“That would be great. You have a nice day.”
Dylan loosened his grip and replaced the handset. She’d known she was pregnant when she’d left.
He understood now. She didn’t trust him, didn’t trust him with their child. In her mind, he’d used her. He collapsed back against the chair, not caring if Carl saw him in a rare moment of weakness. After what he’d done, he wouldn’t have given himself another chance, either. How did a man fix such a huge mistakes? “Look everywhere again,” he told Carl brusquely. “We must have missed something. Find her.”
Outside the window, the Knollwood lakeshore was frozen solid. Maddy pressed her hand against the cold glass of Aunt Gail’s cottage, watching as the snow whirled over the frozen water and the drifts battered two ice fishing huts some enterprising and brave souls had built.
So this was what Knollwood Lake looked like around the start of December. It was beautiful, in a primitive sort of way. In a few weeks, she’d spend Christmas alone, talking and singing to her baby. After reading a few chapters of one of those what to expect books, she’d tossed it aside. The last thing she needed in the quiet was to imagine that all her normal symptoms were potentially dangerous, especially when she couldn’t get out to see a doctor. She’d hidden her car in an old pole barn on the Lawless acres about two hundred yards away. In zero degree weather, any trek was dangerous. And even if she could avoid freezing and reach the place where the Lawless family had once stored their sailboat, the six inches of fresh white powder last night meant Maddy was effectively snowed in.
So she’d browsed the literary classics Aunt Gail had on her shelf. She’d listened to the radio and worked on a cross-stitch her great aunt had left behind. The cottage didn’t have a TV and Maddy had to admit she was going a little stir crazy. If it hadn’t been for Melvin delivering groceries last week in his big four-wheel drive SUV, she’d have starved.
The wind rattled the glass panes, and Madison stepped back. Unlike Summerhaven, which was battened down and without heat, Aunt Gail’s cottage had been built for use during the winter, and so far her pipes and electricity had held.
“Thank you Aunt Gail,” Madison whispered. She’d had the foresight before she died to tell Jonathan that if Madison requested use of the cottage, to allow it, no questions asked. When Madison asked Jonathan and Jake not to tell Dylan where she was, they’d both agreed, although she could tell they didn’t agree with her choice.
But their silence kept her safe. And so far she’d been correct in predicting that Dylan wouldn’t search for her here.
She tossed a log in the wood-burning stove. Although the cabin had central heat, she liked the stove better and Melvin had provided a stash of chopped wood out on the enclosed porch. In addition to bringing her groceries, he checked on her daily as he made his rounds as caretaker. A forty-something Scandinavian man of few words who minded his own business, Madison trusted him not to tell Dylan her whereabouts. She knew he hadn’t, otherwise her husband would have shown up by now.
She touched her stomach, although it would be at least another week before she could feel the baby move. She’d lost weight, but that was to be expected when you had morning sickness. Madison sat on the sofa and picked up the cross-stitch.
In the privacy of the cottage she’d raged, she’d cried, and she’d mourned, and all this time later she hadn’t changed her mind. She’d call a lawyer tomorrow. Even if it meant losing her beloved land, it was time to move on. She had the future to consider.
“Still nothing,” the investigator said.
Dylan paced his office. Christmas was a few days away, but he could care less about holiday spirit. How did someone just disappear in this day of modern technology? “This is ridiculous. I can buy and sell multimillion dollar companies but I can’t find my wife.”
“Yeah, boss, I know.” Carl shifted his weight and fidgeted. “I even went back up to Wisconsin. Everything up there for miles sits under three feet of snow. Except for daily visits by the caretaker, there isn’t anyone there. His are the only tire tracks. I can’t even reach the guy. He’s never there when I call him, and he doesn’t have a cell phone. Can you believe that? I got a hold of his wife, Cindy, but she wasn’t any help. I even checked the phone records. The phone hasn’t been used.”
“What about the cottage?”
“Star?” Carl snorted. “The one you sold? Unless you take an airboat ride across the ice, you can’t get to the island. The lake’s frozen solid. Star’s dark, and the Big Island is shut down as well. Acres and acres of dark buildings all locked up for winter.”
“Damn it, but she couldn’t have just vanished without a trace.”
“I don’t know. She got family or friends you don’t know about?”
“No.” Dylan shook his head. “She’s not close to anyone. Not even her brother.”
“I checked with him again. He hasn’t seen her, and he’s too busy covering his butt with the SEC to be hiding his sister.”
Dylan pounded his fist on his desk, sending his pencil holder and its contents flying. “Damn.”
“I’m heading down to St. Louis tomorrow to see if I can pick up a trail there. I have to have missed something.”
“Let me know how it goes,” Dylan said. He put his head into his hands after Carl left. The blackness wasn’t soothing and his temples throbbed with the migraine that had become a constant visitor since Maddy’s disappearance.
His secretary knocked on the door. “Mr. Blackwater? I’m sorry to disturb you. Deli
very. You must sign personally.”
“Send it in.” Dylan straightened as the uniformed courier entered. Dylan signed, took the envelope and sliced it open.
The first thing he saw was Madison’s name jumping out at him. He scanned the rest of the letter and leafed through the legal documents. He’d just been served divorce papers.
Dylan absorbed the implications in stunned silence. He’d been mistaken in believing he’d hit rock bottom. He retrieved the lawyer’s business card and read the address.
He’d never seen his fingers actually shake before, but each digit was a vibrating object as he buzzed his secretary. He knew where Maddy was.
“Reschedule everything for the next two days. I’m going north.”
His secretary didn’t miss a beat, which was why he paid her so well. “Done.”
“Get,” he read the lawyer’s name off, “Tony Tosco on the line.”
He rattled off a number and leaned back and waited. Within moments he heard, “Tony Tosco.”
“Tony, Dylan Blackwater. I understand you are representing Madison Blackwater?”
“I am.” The man’s nasal voice irked.
“I want to talk to my wife.”
“Mr. Blackwater,” the lawyer began as if accustomed to irate husbands. “Your wife has been more than generous. She’s given up her share of the Summerhaven property, including the access strip, and she’s given up her stake in the five million dollar settlement you both received from her brother. She’s not even asking for maintenance or any of your wages, which I’ve told her she’s entitled to. She just wants out of your marriage and to be left alone.”
“I’m not signing these,” Dylan shouted. He calmed himself. “I will sign nothing until I talk to my wife.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwater, that’s why she hired me. I will be very happy to convey any message but I must advise you to contact your attorney. You’ll discover that you stand to lose much more if you don’t sign her generous offer. She’s asked for nothing. In fact, I would—”
The Billioniare's Bought Bride (Contemporary Romance) Page 12