“Let me worry about that. I’m telling you to stay.”
“Think about Holly.”
Lou held his gaze a long moment before looking away, toward the archway and her daughter’s excited chatter.
“You know I’m right,” he said gently, and patted her arm. “Don’t worry about Zara. I’ll take care of her.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Logan Byrne playing nursemaid?”
“When I think about what almost happened…She wasn’t breathing, Lou. She was…I thought she was gone. Yeah, I’ll play nursemaid. No problem.”
Her smile changed into one almost of wonderment, but when he said, “What?” she refused to elaborate. When he thought about it, he was glad she hadn’t. “Listen, uh, Lou…I’d like to borrow a few things to, you know, fix up the warehouse a little?”
He tried not to squirm under her impassive stare. “This is gonna be good,” she finally said. “Tell me. What frivolous items has Zara done without these past few days? Toilet paper? Running water?”
“Nothing like that. Man. Sheets.”
A long-suffering sigh. “Pillows?” she prompted.
“Oh. Pillows, too. Sheets and pillows.”
“How’re you fixed for towels?”
“Towels, we have.”
“Bug spray.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess we could use some of that.”
Logan didn’t need his old friend’s dark glower to feel as low as one of those doomed cockroaches. Zara’s comfort hadn’t been high on his list when he’d selected the safe house. If anything, the prospect of the spoiled Ms. Sutcliffe toughing it out under such austere conditions had amused him.
But now he could only wonder. what on earth had he been thinking?
“IF YOU WANT TO CLOSE your eyes and take a nap.” Logan suggested. He put the BMW in gear and backed out of Lou’s garage. It was close to ten, and fully dark. He began negotiating the suburban roads that would take him to the highway.
“Holly’s a good kid.” Zara smiled. “Reminds me of myself at that age. So much ambition, so much heart.”
“Did you always want to be involved in publishing?”
“I always wanted to be involved with books. They were my escape when I was a kid. My safety valve. I would just crawl between the pages of some book about dinosaurs or a Judy Bolton mystery and let everything else roll off my back.” She looked at him. “What was your escape?”
“Who says I needed an escape?”
She just waited for the answer. How had she come to know him so well in just a few days?
“Coins,” he said. “I had a coin collection.”
“Really? I can’t picture it”
“Too nerdy?”
“No.I guess it’s the patience and attention to detail that don’t quite fit. I see you more as a man of action.”
“Believe me, given the right provocation, I can be patient and attentive to detail.” He slid a suggestive grin her way, and she smirked.
She asked, “Do you still have your coins?”
“Mac stole them when I left for college.”
After a moment she said, “I should’ve guessed.”
He drove in silence awhile. They got onto the parkway and he picked up speed.
Zara turned to him. “When are you going to tell me what you need me for?”
His pulse lurched. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t pick me up at the airport for my safety, Logan. At least that wasn’t the only reason. You need me to do something.”
He forced his hands to unclench on the steering wheel. “Things have changed. It doesn’t matter what I had in mind before.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m no longer willing to put you at risk.”
He kept his eyes on the road.
After a few moments she said quietly, “I thought so. I knew it had to be something like that.”
He took a deep breath. “My idea was to use you to sort of…lure him out of hiding.”
“We tried that. It didn’t work.”
“We tried it without you being physically present. I was hoping he’d fall for that, show up at the restaurant and wait for you.”
“You underestimated him.”
“It would seem I did.”
“And when you had me call his machine the second time…”
“There’s no point in hashing all this out, Zara. I’ve changed my mind.”
She half turned toward him. “And when you had me call him again,” she persisted, “it was to set up a face-to-face meeting. You figured my actual presence would do the trick.”
He felt defeated. “That was the plan.”
She sat back again. “I’ll do it.”
His gaze snapped to her profile. She was staring straight ahead. “Like hell.”
“It’s my decision, Logan. My call.”
“Forget it. I told you, I’ve changed my mind. I won’t use you like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said caustically. “Being used is what I do best. Ask Tony.”
He bristled at the comparison to her detestable exhusband. “This isn’t the same thing.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” she said, but the words were flat. She wouldn’t look at him. “Forget I said it, okay? Your plan makes sense. We don’t seem to have too many other options.”
“You already had your face-to-face with Mac. And look how it almost ended.”
“That won’t happen again. You’ll be there to back me up.”
“Think about it, Zara. After last night, what are the chances of Mac walking into a trap? He’d know I’m watching. Maybe he wouldn’t show. Maybe he’d arrange some sort of ambush. Anything’s possible. The simple fact is, we no longer have the upper hand, if we ever did. We can no longer call the shots.”
“Because I messed things up by going over to Emma’s. I jumped the gun.”
“You didn’t know what I had planned. If I’d been more up-front, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”
“We should be able to figure out a way to trip him up. If he knows I’m going to be at some particular location—”
“No. That’s final.”
“Why?”
Because I nearly lost you once. “Drop it, Zara.”
She was silent, and he shot her a leery glance. “And don’t get any ideas! You nearly got yourself killed. Once is enough.”
“You forget. It’s my mother he’s holding. God knows what he’s done to her. I’ve gotten a taste of his violence firsthand. I know what she’s up against. And what about Emma? You and Lou haven’t been able to track her down yet. He might have gotten to her already.”
That was Gage’s fear, as well. He’d been champing at the bit down in Arkansas, calling every hour. She said, “Logan, it’s my fault Mom is going through this. This whole thing is my fault.”
“That’s bull and you know it.”
“If I hadn’t agreed to sell him the ray gun—”
“He would’ve gone at it from a different angle. He wasn’t about to walk away from it, Zara. Not with two million bucks up for grabs.”
“But if I hadn’t jumped at the chance to bankroll an apartment for Mom, if I hadn’t asked Emma to impersonate me—”
“Dammit, this is not your fault!”
“That isn’t what you said a couple of days ago.”
“I said it was your fault?”
“Not in so many words. You implied it.”
“Well, I’m unimplying it. The only one responsible for any of this is my brother.”
“It’s true, what Dad always said about me. And Tony. In some ways I guess they knew me better than I knew myself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All my life I’ve heard how self-centered I am. That I lack character. Moral fiber.”
“This from a couple of world-class jerks. You said yourself your dad was a control freak. And Tony…talk about self-centered. Did it ever occur to you these guys jus
t didn’t know what to do with an independent woman?”
“What are you saying, that they felt threatened by me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He let that steep awhile.
“You’re willing to risk your neck to help rescue your mother,” he said, “even though you’re frightened, ened, and with good reason. You feel accountable and you want to make it right. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s short on moral fiber.”
She was quiet so long, he glanced over at her. She was smiling. “You’re really sweet, you know that?” she said. “So…adamant. Defending my character.”
Eyes on the traffic once more, he murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with your character, Zara.” He’d been so self-righteous a few days ago, so smug in his assumptions about this woman he’d never even met. You’d think he’d have known better than to accept at face value the distorted image of Zara Sutcliffe presented by the media.
He added, “But a word of warning. Not only am I not threatened by independent women, I’ll chain this particular independent woman to the goddamn radiator if she gets even the slightest urge to strike out on her own. Am I coming in loud and clear?”
Zara just laughed.
Chapter Nine
“How long does he usually stay away?” Emma listened to the receding sound of automobile tires on gravel. She’d just spent her first night in the basement prison with her mother. Her relief at finding Candy unharmed had quickly given way to despair at the unlikelihood of rescue.
“Hours usually,” Candy answered from the middle of the floor, where she was doing stretching exercises. “Sometimes nearly the whole day. I figure he goes into the city.”
“A good long drive each way.” Emma couldn’t be certain where this house was. She’d ridden nearly the entire distance in the trunk of Mac’s car—a singularly horrifying experience. She suspected they were in Rockland or Putnam County, north of the city. “You sure he didn’t hurt you at all?” She must have asked this question a dozen times since being reunited with her mother. She was well aware of Mac’s propensity for violence.
“Not a scratch.” Candy took a break and sat crosslegged on the floor. “I’m pretty sure he’s a serious fan of mine. Smitten even.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “Get out!”
“I recognize the signs. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me I’m not. And even if I am, it’s in his interest to keep me in one piece. Like I told you, there’s someone out there willing to pay eight million bucks for a living, breathing Candy Carmelle.”
Since Emma’s arrival yesterday evening, she and Candy had shared what information they had. When Emma had told her about Gage, Candy had expressed delight in finally learning the identity of Mac’s “damn cowboy.”
“But what about me?” Emma crossed to the ratty sofa and plopped down. “Why am I even here? I thought for sure Mac was going to kill me yesterday. He tried to once.”
“Something must’ve happened.” Candy rose and joined her daughter on the sofa. “Something that makes you more valuable alive than dead. Thank God.” She squeezed Emma’s hand, her eyes shiny.
“The mysterious William perhaps?”
Her mother eased her hand away. She averted her eyes, but not before Emma detected conflicting impulses battling it out behind them.
“What? Mom, what aren’t you telling me?” She touched Candy’s arm. “You know something about this William, don’t you?”
“No. Maybe. It’s just a…crazy suspicion. I must’ve been down here too long.” She smiled weakly. “It’s affecting my mind.”
Emma sat up and made her mother face her. “I want all of it.”
Candy took a deep breath. “It’s just that I knew a William. Long ago. Only he called himself Billy then. Billy Sharke. I overheard Mac say something to William about trying to live up to his name.”
“Sharke.” It took a moment to click. “Billy Sharke! He was a director. The Slithering, right?”
“And a handful of other pictures, including Return of the Atomic Bride.”
“The movie that ray gun was used in.”
“Right.”
“So, what? Were you and Billy close? Did you two have a thing going?”
Candy turned pink. She was embarrassed! Emma couldn’t recall her mother ever being embarrassed about anything, least of all anything having to do with sex.
“Wow. That must’ve been some affair,” Emmasaid. “So why do you think it might be the same guy? Is he loaded?”
“I don’t know. He could be, I suppose. He sure wasn’t then.”
“You mean you haven’t kept in touch over the years?”
Candy’s bleak expression brought Emma up short. “Mom? What is it?”
“There are things I never told you. About John.”
“Dad? What about him?”
“Honey, he wasn’t the man you thought he was. You have no idea what he was capable of.”
“Oh. I have a pretty good idea. You only knew him for a couple of years, after all, Mom. We were raised by him. By the time he died…I hate to say this…I don’t think I loved him anymore. It was that bad.”
“It was worse, only you never knew. There were things that were kept from you.”
Emma was shocked by the depth of bitterness behind her mother’s words. “Like what?”
“John used his wealth and position in society—his power—to control everything and everyone around him. He had no scruples. He was a…a megalomaniac.”
Emma had never applied that particular term to her father, but she couldn’t deny the description fit. “I know he cheated you out of custody of me and Zara. He kept you from even seeing us. What else did he do?”
“Seizing custody was child’s play for him. What didn’t he do? He manipulated everyone, all his personal and business dealings. Methodically bankrupted anyone who defied him, even people he’d known all his life. It was a power game for him. If I’d only known before I married him…He could be so charming when he wanted something. And thirty years ago, he wanted me.”
“How does Billy Sharke fit into this?”
“John was fanatically jealous of Billy. He thought I was still in love with him.” Candy stared off toward the utility room as she spoke.
“Were you?” Emma asked gently.
“Yes. But I made my choice. Billy was a director of grade B horror flicks, struggling to pay his rent just like everyone else. And there was John Sutcliffe, with his mansion and money and everybody kowtowing to him. It was all I’d ever dreamed of since I was a little girl living in a crowded fifth-floor walk-up in Little Italy. Security. Respectability. I figured this was my one and only shot.”
“And you took it. Who could blame you?”
“I blamed myself after what he did to Billy.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “John ruined him. He—he had him blacklisted in Hollywood. He bought off producers, engineered vicious rumors about drug use and—and other things too horrible to mention. And he maimed him,” she whispered.
Emma swallowed hard, knowing she didn’t want to hear any more, but knowing her mother needed to talk about this.
Candy dried her eyes and cleared her throat. “John had some hired thugs break Billy’s legs. They shattered them with baseball bats. And he made me watch.”
“Oh, my God…”
“He said if either one of us ever tried to contact the other, he’d kill us both. There was never a question he could and would do it. Efficiently. Anonymously.”
Emma felt out of breath. She realized she was squeezing Candy’s hand hard. Her mother seemed not to notice. She stared into space as if transported to another place, another time.
“So I never tried to find him,” she whispered. “Even after the divorce. John never stopped watching me, keeping tabs on me. I knew if I looked for Billy, he’d find out and…”
“I can’t—I can’t believe Dad would do something like that,” Emma said. But it was a lie. A part of her knew her father had indeed
been capable of such acts.
“I’ve thought about it, since John’s death. I’ve thought about looking for Billy. But what would I tell him?” She broke down, sobbing into her hands. “What could I say that would make up for…”
Emma pulled her into her arms and held her tight. Could this mysterious William be Billy Sharke? It seemed too bizarre to be true, and yet she could say that about almost everything that had happened the past couple of weeks.
Her mother struggled to compose herself. She drew away and straightened her back, and for the first time Emma saw all sixty-one years in her tear-streaked face.
Candy looked directly into her daughter’s eyes and said, “There’s more.”
“YOU KNOW, YOU DON’T HAVE to do everything for me, Logan. I feel fine.”
Zara sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, an incongruously plush oasis set amid the squalid desert of the warehouse. When they’d arrived last night, Logan had double-bagged the nasty mattress with two quilted covers, then made up the bed with Lou’s delicate rose-patterned sheets, her mother-in-law’s handmade quilt and four fluffy pillows.
That was for Zara, of course. He’d spent the night in his sleeping bag on the floor. It was after 11:00 p.m., and she’d just endured a second day of ex-Special Agent Logan Byrne’s militant brand of pampering. She hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger.
He looked up from her luggage, where he was searching for her nightclothes. “Lou wouldn’t let us leave till I promised to take good care of you. Don’t want to get her mad at me. You should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”
“But I’m not tired. I haven’t done anything today!”
The cell phone rang.
She said, “Let’s hope that’s Lou.” She didn’t need to add, With news about Emma.
He crossed to the desk and flipped open the phone. “Yeah.”
His entire body seemed to snap to attention. Zara knew instantly it wasn’t Lou.
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