You Again

by Val Tobin

  “I thought you weren’t jealous?”

  “I’m not.”

  They fell silent as the woman who’d been washing her hands finished drying them under the hand dryer and left the bathroom. One woman exited her stall and turned on the tap at the sink. Ellen turned her attention back to Rhonda.

  “This might sound crazy, but what do you know about John? What do you even know about Max?”

  Rhonda stared at her, puzzled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’m concerned you might be involved with someone whose friend ...” She trailed off. How could she bring herself to say it? Should she say it? Rhonda wouldn’t be in on it, but revealing to her friend that John might be the killer could put her in jeopardy. Yet keeping her ignorant could also put her in jeopardy.

  “Whose friend what, Ellen? Finish what you started to say.” Rhonda’s voice had grown louder, and Ellen put a placating hand on her friend’s arm.

  “Shh,” she warned, inclining her head in the direction of the stalls.

  The bathroom door opened, and another woman entered and headed into a stall. The handwashing woman finished at the dryer and left. The closed stall remained closed, the woman in it continuing to sit. Her running-shoe-clad feet were visible under the stall’s door.

  That must be some massive dump she’s having. Hope she’s okay. The air remained blessedly odour free, however, much to Ellen’s relief. She turned back to her friend.

  “Has John ever given you any reason to distrust him?”

  “No!” Rhonda snapped the response out and, grabbing Ellen by the arm, pulled her farther from earshot of the women in the main part of the bathroom. “What do you think he’s done?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry.” She thought back to the night they all met. John had deliberately avoided sitting next to Rhonda—he’d steered her in Max’s direction and made certain Ellen sat beside him. At least, that’s how it looked to her upon reflection. What if it wasn’t because he’d found her more attractive than her friend? Afraid to say that out loud, she simply said, “I’m really sorry. You’re here with these two men, and you don’t know them too well.”

  “Oh, well, isn’t that nice? Max has been amazing from the moment we met. He hasn’t forced anything on me. John has been nice and pleasant, and if he’s Max’s friend, then I trust him, because Max has excellent judgment. He’s a prosecutor, for God’s sake. He puts away the bad guys.” She dropped her hands from Ellen.

  “As I recall, you considered the possibility Gabe killed Katrina,” Ellen reminded her friend.

  “Katrina was killed when she was alone with him in his apartment. If anyone’s dating a killer, it’s you, but you won’t consider that, will you?” Rhonda retorted, continuing to keep her voice low, but her face contorted in rage. She huffed out an exasperated breath and said, “I came in here to use the washroom. I’ll see you around.” She stalked into a stall and shut the door.

  Since Ellen was here anyway, she entered a stall and used the toilet. When she came out, she saw the stall Rhonda had gone into was empty, and her friend wasn’t at the sink or the hand dryer either. The running-shoe-clad feet were also gone. Ellen quickly washed her hands and hurried from the bathroom.

  When she arrived back at their table, she found it empty.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ellen scanned the restaurant, searching frantically for Gabriel, Rhonda, or Max. She stood next to the table, trying to figure out what could’ve happened. Was Rhonda so angry she’d stormed from the restaurant, taking Max with her? And taking Gabriel as well? How could he leave her? What could Rhonda have said to make him abandon her?

  No, it’s a mistake. He’s in the washroom. I just have to wait for him to return.

  She sat down at the table, which still held their dirty dishes and empty glasses. The server spotted her sitting alone and came over.

  “Your party has paid the bill, ma’am,” he said. “You’re welcome to sit here as long as you like, but the rest of your group left.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face, and the server must have noticed the panic in her eyes, because he said, “The other couple left together. Your companion stepped outside to take a call. If you were expecting to leave together, I’m sure he’ll be right back.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She picked up her almost-empty water glass and took a small sip. Remembering her cell phone, she mentally kicked herself for not thinking of it immediately. She fired off a text to Gabriel: Where are you? I’m still in the restaurant, waiting for you at our table.

  How could he abandon her like this? Had Rhonda told Max and Gabriel about the argument and convinced them to leave her here? Insane. He wouldn’t.

  She checked her phone. No text. Ellen clutched her purse to her stomach, folding her arms across the shiny black cloth. Had he really walked out on her in another country?

  No, no. She shook her head to emphasize the point. He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Even if he were angry with her, he wouldn’t just walk away and leave her. Yet, he’d abandoned her before, and he had a tendency to jump to conclusions.

  People don’t change. But she had. Didn’t she just today buy him presents even though she didn’t have to? She’d never have done that before. Ellen rose from her seat and walked to the pub’s entrance, which looked out on the resort’s shopping concourse. Relief flooded through her when she spotted him disconnecting a call, and she hurried to join him.

  “Did Zach return your call?” She held her breath, hoping Zach had given a different lawyer’s name. Just not John, please, don’t let it be John.

  “My dad.” Concern lined his face.

  She released the breath she’d held, but it provided little release from the tension that tied her in knots. She’d continue to twist and worry until Zach gave them a name, and from the look of it, Gabriel’s father had called with bad news.

  “What’s wrong? Is your dad all right?” She couldn’t keep the concern from her voice.

  Gabriel took her hand and led her away from the front of the restaurant. Around them, couples strolled, all looking, to Ellen’s eyes, carefree and happy. They laughed and chatted or walked in companionable silence. How she envied them. Gabriel held her hand, but she picked up on the stress he carried. The silence they walked in now was laced with tension.

  “He’s fine,” Gabriel said at last and then gave a bitter chuckle. “He’s always fine.”

  Ellen swallowed the lump in her throat. Bad news coming. He’s going to hit me with it. She tensed, pulled her hand from his, and stopped walking. “Tell me.”

  “He wants me to move back to England.”

  He didn’t say no, or he wouldn’t look as if he had something to hide. “What did you tell him?”

  “Ellen, it’ll be all right. I think I’ve figured out what we can do.”

  He’s going. It was three years ago all over again, and this time, the separation would kill her. How will I get over him? Why did I let him back into my life?

  “No, it’s not like before,” he said, guessing her thoughts.

  “How isn’t it like that? I can’t move to England to live with you. I won’t. My family and my life are here.” Something else occurred to her then. “What about BRI? You just bought the company. I thought that’s what you wanted for yourself. To run your own business.”

  “It is. Dad wants me to do that in London.” Before she could respond, he said, “This time, it’ll be different. We’ll get married. Marry me, Ellen.”

  Stunned, she could only stare at him, blinking. Did he think it was as simple as that for her? That the only issue she’d had last time was he hadn’t proposed?

  “I can’t move out of the country, Gabe. Don’t you understand? My whole life is here.”

  He took her arm and led her toward the elevators.

  She realized they’d walked back to the Desert Island. “No. I can’t.”

  “Ellen, my life is with you. I don’t want to lose you. Not again.”


  “Then why do you want to move to England? You said yourself you wanted to be here. You returned because your life is here.”

  The elevator doors opened. People shuffled off, and Gabriel took her arm again and tried to lead her inside. She pulled free and stepped away from him.

  “I need to be alone.” She turned her back on him and started walking, her pace slow but steady. Footsteps behind her told her he followed. She spun around. “Let me be, Gabe. I need to think, to be alone so I can figure this out.”

  He shook his head, his face flushing red and etched with a scowl. “I’m not letting you wander off by yourself.”

  She softened her voice in her reply. “I’ll be fine. I’m staying in the lobby, and I’ll call Rhonda.” A smile flicked across her lips. “Girl talk. Best if I talk to my friend. Okay?” Except her friend was angry with her, wasn’t she?

  Worry about that later. If Rhonda answered her phone, Ellen could smooth things over, ask her to meet for a drink.

  Gabriel frowned, hesitated. The world seemed to hang on his decision.

  If he walks away, it means he trusts me. Or it meant he could abandon her again now as easily as he’d done three years ago. She shoved that ludicrous, self-sabotaging thought aside.

  “I’ll give you an hour, Ellen. We’ll meet in our hotel room. If you’re not back by then, I’m calling the cops.”

  A bit dramatic. But she agreed to his terms and followed him with her gaze until he’d disappeared into the elevator.

  ***

  Since he had no idea if Ellen would take the full hour, and because he needed to clear his own head in peace and quiet, Gabriel headed up to their hotel room. As he rode up in the elevator, he considered what he’d do if she refused to move to London. He could stay in Toronto. Couldn’t he?

  That would disappoint his father. Gabriel visualized telling his father he refused the transfer—not that it took a great deal of effort—they’d already argued over this. His father would respond with annoyance and frustration. What Gabriel really needed to visualize was what his life in Toronto would be like if he stayed here. He might have to leave his father’s company altogether, making BRI his own baby. His income would plummet, but that prospect didn’t worry him. He knew he could make BRI successful, and even if his income never matched what he made working for his father, why should it matter?

  Challenge motivated him, not money—and pleasing his father had motivated him. For most of Gabriel’s life, getting his father’s approval had mattered the most. What he realized now, as he stepped from the elevator and strode down the corridor to his suite, was that no matter how hard he tried, his father wanted more. Not that Gabriel’s performance had displeased Charles. Gabriel had always performed exceptionally, had succeeded, delivered the desired results. But he never reached that moment where he’d done enough, where he’d step out from under his father’s control and be his own man. That, he decided, using his key card to unlock the door, was the crux of the issue.

  As he opened the door, a shove to his back had him stumbling into the hotel room.

  He cursed and spun around to confront whoever had pushed him. His brain registered the gun John pointed at him. “What the hell is this?”

  John kicked the “Do not disturb” sign that had slid from the door’s handle into the suite, shut the door, and sneered in response. “The end of the line.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  A bench between two giant potted plants made a convenient nook in which Ellen could sit and think. She watched people stroll past and considered calling Rhonda but couldn’t bring herself to make the call. One fight at a time was more than enough to deal with, and the situation with Gabriel was her priority.

  But should it be? Should her lover trump her friend? Especially a lover who’d abandoned her once before under similar circumstances? Before she could change her mind, Ellen retrieved her cell phone from her purse and called Rhonda.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rhonda.” Her voice pleaded forgiveness.

  “You hurt me.” She paused. “Do you believe Max had anything to do with Fran’s and Katrina’s deaths? Really?”

  “No.” She could honestly say she didn’t. She suspected John. But the two men were best friends. Could Max really be innocent? Still, they had no proof of anything; otherwise, they’d have taken it to the police. “I didn’t mean to accuse him of anything.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply Gabe could do something like that too. We’re both on edge.”

  Ellen considered telling Rhonda about the recent break-in at the basement apartment but thought better of it. The two never kept secrets from one another, but Ellen preferred to talk about this in person. She’d wait. At least they were back on speaking terms.

  She exhaled her relief. When she spoke again, her voice sounded normal, the way it sounded whenever the two best friends talked. “Where are you?”

  “We’re walking on the Strip. I wanted to do some shopping. You?”

  Ellen considered telling her friend what had happened but changed her mind. Let Rhonda and Max have their time together. “Returning to our hotel room. Can we meet later—just you and me? For drinks?”

  “Sure.” Rhonda’s tone was soft, and Ellen heard the affection in it.

  “Thanks. What time works for you? After dinner?” By then, she and Gabriel should’ve worked things out.

  “Sure. How’s nine o’clock? At the Desert Island Bar?”

  “I’ll be there.” Before her friend could disconnect, Ellen said, “Rhonda?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Ellen. We’re friends. We’ll always be friends. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

  “Okay.”

  They said their goodbyes, and after disconnecting the call, Ellen slipped her phone into the front pouch of her purse. The repair to her relationship with Rhonda gave Ellen hope she could fix things with Gabriel as well. Together, they could work something out.

  He’d asked her to marry him this time. Yet, he hadn’t said “I love you.” The proposal implied it. She knew him well enough by now to know he loved her, and it wasn’t as if she’d said the words to him even though she felt it.

  With a sigh, she rose from her seat. She couldn’t sit here all day. All she could think to do was return to the hotel room and discuss things with him. She rushed through the corridor, barely noticing her surroundings, moving on instinct back to the elevator.

  She waited patiently for one of them to open. More happy people came and went, and when the up-elevator door opened, a jovial crowd, probably heading to the casino or to a show, stepped off. Ellen slipped inside with four other people and pressed the button to the fiftieth floor. Her heart pounded at the nagging fear this conversation would end as it had three years ago, but she tried to relax.

  Things are different now. We love each other. He wants to marry me.

  The others in the elevator got off before she reached her floor, so she was alone when the doors opened to let her out. She stepped into the foyer and checked the signs for the room numbers. Always a little disoriented when she stepped off an elevator, she was unsure which direction to take. Locating her room number on the sign, Ellen followed the arrows. As she neared the room, she listened for any activity anywhere. All was quiet. She slowed her pace as she approached the door to their suite.

  When she flashed the access card across the scanner, the lock beeped and flashed green. She turned the door handle, and as she stepped into the room, she realized her “Do not disturb” sign no longer hung from the handle. Ellen paused.

  No, something’s wrong. Go back. In that split second, someone grabbed her wrist and hauled her into the room.

  “Welcome to the party,” a mocking voice said.

  ***

  All the lights were on in the suite—even those in the bedroom. The curtains were drawn over the windows, closing out the sparkle of the Las Vegas Strip at night. Ellen scan
ned the kitchen, the dining area, and the living room. She didn’t see Gabriel, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Where’s Gabe?” she asked, because that was more important at the moment than “What the hell are you doing in my room?” was.

  “Bedroom.”

  She yanked her wrist from John’s grasp and ran for the bedroom. She felt more than saw John following close behind her, but that didn’t matter.

  Gabriel lay on the bed, one hand cuffed to the bedpost. His mouth was stuffed with a cloth that tied behind his head, and his eyes were closed. For one heart-stopping moment, she thought he was dead.

  “What have you done to him?” she shrieked and ran to his side, dropping her purse on the bed and throwing herself onto him.

  “Just drugged. He’ll live.” After a breath, John added, “For now.”

  She stroked Gabriel’s cheek and started to undo the knot that held the gag in place.

  “Leave it.”

  Ellen glared at John and for the first time realized he held a gun in his gloved hands. “What will you do? Shoot us?” As soon as the words were out, she regretted the rashness of it, but it wouldn’t matter. John likely did intend to shoot them. She didn’t even understand why. What had she or Gabriel done to make John turn on them? How had he known they suspected him? But she ignored his order and continued to fiddle with the gag. He didn’t try to stop her again, so she considered that a win.

  As the gag slipped from Gabriel’s mouth, she said, “What are you doing? Why?” She thought of Rhonda, of Max. “Where are Max and Rhonda?”

  “Don’t worry about them.”

  She waited. When he didn’t expand on that, she said, “What is all this?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Ellen. You’ve been interfering in everything since Gabriel Duncan took over BRI.”

  As if checking a sick child for a fever, she pressed a palm to Gabriel’s forehead. He stirred, perhaps her cool hand helping to revive him, and she shifted to sit so she could cradle his head in her lap.