Chapter 19
Panic screaming through him woke Zane. Sweaty and panting, he jerked upright in bed. His gaze scrambled around the room, his sleep-deprived brain registering the beachy décor and pale pink sunrise creeping through the curtains.
He was in the guest room. Alone.
He scrubbed a hand over his morning stubble. Had last night been only a dream that’d turned into a nightmare?
His glance snagged on Jillian’s robe tangled in the covers at the foot of the bed, and her sensual patchouli scent drifted to his nostrils from the pillow beside him.
It’d been as real as it gets, Wolfe.
After the talk from hell, they’d walked upstairs and agreed on not taking the chance of Casey discovering them in bed together in the mornings until they were both more certain everything would work out.
Okay, until Zane was more certain. Jillian’s faith was unwavering.
She’d dropped her robe and climbed into bed with him, where they’d made love again. Then she’d insisted on holding him until he fell asleep. She must have not wanted to wake him by attempting to retrieve her robe, and slipped out naked to return to her own room.
Zane threw off the covers and headed for the shower and a shave. He put on jeans, his runners, and a light gray T-shirt then cat-footed downstairs. Hearing Jillian and Casey chatting in the kitchen, he made a covert exit out the front door. Sunlight glinted off lace-edged aquamarine waves, the cloudless sky promising perfect weather for tonight’s gala.
He hurriedly drove to the open-air market and completed his mission.
Carrying his purchase, he prowled up the porch steps and slipped in the front door. Jillian’s gusty off-key singing of “It’s Raining Men,” drew him to the kitchen. Fresh and luscious in her mint ice cream sundress and white sandals, she had her back to him, flipping sausage patties.
He stood in the doorway watching her as she warbled and hip-wiggled to the sink and filled the coffee carafe with water. Love swamped him, weakening his knees.
This was the remarkable woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Casey spotted him from his seat at the table, and Zane put his index finger to his lips and tiptoed up behind Jillian, leaned over her shoulder. “Morning.”
Breaking off mid-song, she jumped, whirled. “Zane!” Sparkling irises flashed him a simmering, intimate greeting. “Sneaking up on me again? I’m going to have to tie a bell around your neck.” Her lips touched his, curved into a naughty smile. “ Very good morning,” she purred.
He awkwardly thrust out the massive beribboned bouquet of rainbow summer flowers. “Considering your green thumb, it’s like bringing whiskey to an Irish pub, but … here.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened and she gathered the flowers to her, burying her face in the colorful blooms. “Mmm. What a beautiful bouquet!” She raised her head, gifted him with a grin brighter than the blooms. “Thank you.” Her voice lowered so only the two of them could hear. “I love you, Zane.”
An exhilarating head-rush hit him and he staggered to the table.
After breakfast, Jillian rose and dropped a kiss on top of Casey’s head. “Lynn and I have a zillion things to do before the gala tonight, so Zane is going to stay with you again today. I’ve got to run, I’m supposed to pick up Lynn in ten minutes!” With another quick kiss for Zane, she flew out.
Zane loaded the dishwasher and did a quick cleanup while keeping an eye through the window on Casey, who’d wandered out to the back deck. Then he joined the little boy outside.
Casey rejected Zane’s every idea for entertainment. He said no to playing catch, a squirt gun water fight, Frisbee, a walk on the beach, coloring, and Legos. He just perched on the edge of the chaise, scowling and restlessly kicking the outdoor end table next to it.
Zane felt his forehead. The kid didn’t seem unusually warm. His nose wasn’t running or stuffy, and he said his stomach or head didn’t hurt. Zane didn’t want to unnecessarily medicate him, so nixed giving him his allergy syrup. Please, don’t let it be another bout of the killer stomach bug.
Out of sheer desperation, he suggested a Star Wars marathon and Casey reluctantly assented. Zane put in the first movie, but the child only halfway paid attention to it.
His concern grew. What if something was really wrong?
He tried to talk to Casey about what was bothering him while the child picked at his lunch, hardly eating any of it, and the little boy stunned him by turning red in the face and screaming at Zane to leave him alone.
Had the kid somehow sensed Zane and Jillian had grown much closer, and was upset about it?
Casey cycled through various stages of being cranky, mopey, and stubbornly defiant, sitting upright in his bed with his arms crossed and refusing to take his nap. Zane told him he had to stay in bed anyway for at least thirty minutes, which he did, and then stomped downstairs when the timer went off.
Frustrated, fighting for patience, and clinging to the shredded threads of his last nerve, Zane considered calling Jillian.
He was seriously tanking here.
What if he couldn’t live up to Jillian’s expectations? Couldn’t be the man she and Casey needed? He swallowed hard. Would he be the one to finally smash her illusions? Magic was easy to believe in when you were surrounded by candlelight, but in the reality of day…
Dammit, he wasn’t going to phone her over nothing. She was crazy busy and the gala was vital to the Center … and really, what could he say? We’re having a bad day? Okay, sure, everybody had ‘em. No reason to call in the damned cavalry.
What kind of father couldn’t manage his own son for an afternoon?
Even though the afternoon lasted a hundred years.
By the time Jillian breezed back in the door, Zane was so tense he could’ve opened a can of Budweiser with his butt-cheeks, and Casey was parked silent and sullen in front of the TV.
“Hi, guys,” she called out.
“Aunt Jelly!” Casey whimpered. He leapt up and ran to her, flung his arms around her and clung.
“Hey, little man.” She stroked his hair and gave Zane a puzzled look. “Everything all right?”
Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. The entire day has been a friggin’ disaster.”
Jillian knelt in front of Casey. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you to go out anymore! I want you to stay right here!”
“I’d like nothing better than to be with you all the time, sweetie, but you know that’s not possible.”
“I don’t want you to go away and … and … and never come back … like my mommy did!” The child erupted into heartbroken sobs.
Zane’s heart wrenched as he watched Jillian scoop up the wailing child and carry him to the rocking chair in one corner.
She sat down and cradled Casey in her lap, stroking his hair. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay, Casey. That’s not going to happen.”
“I d-don’t want you to go out tonight.”
“Oh, sweetie, I have to. I have grownup things I have to do. But Poppy and Loucinda are going to come and stay with you tonight.”
“N-not Zane?”
Zane’s lungs seized. His son didn’t want to be left alone with him.
“No, Zane is going with me.”
“H-he is?” Casey hiccupped, his sobs slowed, then he astonished Zane by sitting up and looking at him, huge brown eyes brimming with earnest confidence. “You’re going, too?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you can pertect her, right?”
He was finally able to inhale. “Absolutely, pal.”
“Promise, me, Zane. Promise me you won’t let Aunt Jelly go away and never come back.”
“I promise, Casey.”
And if need be, I’ll give my life to keep that promise.
Jillian rocked Casey, patting and soothing him. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m going to be just fine.”
The overwrought child calmed, fell asleep within ten minutes. Jillian carefully laid him on the sofa, covered him with a throw. She crooked her finger at Zane.
Shoulders knotted, he followed her to the kitchen. “He was fine with me yesterday, but today was total FUBAR.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what I did that upset him so much.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. This is my fault.” She rested her elbows on the countertop and buried her face in her hands. “He hasn’t had one of these separation anxiety meltdowns in a long time, but I’ve been leaving him a lot lately. The gala is essential to keep the Center running, and since Loucinda can’t be there, I have to go. Only, oh God, I feel so horrible. ”
Instead of wrecking him, her distress gave him resolve … and purpose. Oddly, the fact that she didn’t have all the answers and felt doubt about her parenting reassured him. If Jillian, as good a mom as she was, had doubt attacks at times, then hell, he was bound to. He turned her, enfolded her in his arms. “Okay, hey. First of all, back the guilt-trip truck up.”
“I can’t stay with him, but how can I go, knowing it’ll upset him? It’s a lose/lose choice. I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
“Jillian, you’re the best mom I’ve ever met, especially flying solo. You said Casey had seen a counselor for this, how did the counselor advise you?”
She inhaled a shuddering breath, swallowed, and pulled herself together. “He said I needed to leave him sometimes, so he’d learn I would come back. Which would eventually allay his fears. But don’t leave for long periods of time, give him lots of reassurance, and make sure he stays with someone he knows and trusts.”
“Which is exactly what you’re doing. He’ll be with Dean and Loucinda tonight, and he’ll be fine.”
“Logically, yes.” Her arms slid around his waist, held on tight. “But I still feel awful about going.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I have an idea that might cheer the kid up.” He laid out his plan.
When he was finished, she tipped her chin up to look at him, her lovely face radiant. “Casey is so blessed to have you for a father.”
He stood mute, overcome by her irrepressible optimism, generous spirit and most of all, her unconditional acceptance. She was firmly in his camp. They were allies in the battle he had to fight.
She believed in him, without reservation.
How did he ever deserve a woman like this by his side? He’d make damned certain nothing happened to her.
He cleared stinging emotion from his throat. “I’d better get busy making phone calls.”
She stood on tiptoe gave him a long, lingering kiss that robbed him of all oxygen. “I love you,” she murmured against his mouth.
Her love made him feel like he could leap tall buildings with a single bound. Catch bullets between his teeth. “Jillian, I … I lo—”
The phone in her skirt pocket started singing, and she jumped. Clearly torn between duty and devotion, she looked down, then back at him, the longing clear in her eyes.
Maybe the interruption was fortuitous. “You should probably get that.”
She grimaced. “Sorry, it’s probably Lynn again. She’s really on edge about all the gala arrangements. Big stakes are riding on our success tonight.”
“No problem.” He exhaled shakily. “We can pick this up later.”
Much later. Because he still had a long way to go … and he never made promises he couldn’t keep.
* * *
Zane spent the short remainder of the afternoon arranging his surprise. Casey awoke refreshed from an extended nap with a vastly improved attitude, and scarfed down a sandwich, cookies and juice. But then Zane’s attitude usually improved after a nap and cookies, too.
Dean arrived, with Loucinda limping alongside on crutches, to entertain Casey so Zane and Jillian would have plenty of time to dress. The gala was a Roaring ‘20’s theme ball being held in a castle-like vintage inn an hour’s drive up the coastline. The men had their choice of zoot suit or tux and Zane had chosen the tux, but also rented a fedora because he knew Jillian would get a kick out of it. He’d be wearing his Beretta beneath, but he hoped Jillian’s stalker would take the night off and let them celebrate in peace. He was definitely looking forward to seeing her in costume.
The older kids from the Center had been invited to attend if they wished, their formalwear paid for with community funds donated for that purpose.
Unbeknownst to Jillian, Zane had arranged for Dean to stay overnight with Casey and booked a suite at the ritzy inn so they could spend a private night together in style. However that was out of the question after Casey’s meltdown. The child’s wellbeing took top priority.
He checked his watch. Running out of time. Dean, Loucinda and Casey were blowing bubbles on the back deck and Jillian was upstairs primping. He was still in his jeans in the living room with a ball game on in the background while waiting for the special delivery. But soon, he’d have to go change and—
“Hi-ya, Champ.” Jillian’s throaty contralto spun him around.
She paused at the top of the stairs, one graceful hand on the banister, one slender arm stretched up. She was jaw-droppingly stunning in a short, coral-beaded flapper dress that glowed against every inch of peaches-and-cream skin. Matching heels showcased toned, mile-long legs. The pearls he’d given her wrapped her neck once, then dangled enticingly down the slopes of her breasts, and a jaunty feathered coral headdress perched on her shiny blonde waves. Long, gilded eyelashes framed those remarkable eyes and coral lipstick dewed her plump lips.
He whistled as desire leapt, sank into him with claws and fangs. “Hot damn. I get to go to the ball with the most beautiful woman on the planet.”
Mouth curving in a siren’s sexy grin, she blew him a kiss as she sashayed downstairs, sparkling beads undulating around her generous curves in all the right places.
Holy shit —if there hadn’t been an audience right outside the back door, he’d have jumped her then and there.
“Thank you! Any word, yet?”
“No. Shouldn’t be much longer, I hope.”
“I hope so, too! I have to go soon. Lynn and I are supposed to be at the inn to meet and greet the guests and I don’t want to cut it too close. Although I don’t want to miss seeing Casey’s face, either. We’ll probably have to take separate cars.”
He’d rented them a limo—which now had also been utilized for last-minute double-duty—but odds were he’d have to send her ahead in it alone and follow in the Barbie car. At least she’d be secure. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
Tires crunching on asphalt caught his ear and he glanced outside to see a delivery van. “Ah, phase one complete.” The limo pulled in behind it, and tall, lanky Calvin emerged from the back, a garment bag over one shoulder. “There’s phase two.”
Jillian clapped. “Ohhh … I can’t wait.”
“Why don’t you go out to the deck and we’ll join you ASAP?”
She hurried off, and Zane strode outside to greet Calvin and accept the delivery.
Calvin handed Zane his garment bag, pointed both index fingers at him. “You’re the man. ”
“Thanks for doing this.”
The teen trailed Zane into the garage. “Huh. Thanks for the sweet limo ride and the hundred bucks!”
Zane handed him the delivered box. “I’ll put your formalwear on one of the kitchen chairs. Meet me there when you’re ready.”
Zane left Calvin in the garage … and less than five minutes later, out walked Chewbacca.
“This is off the chain!” Calvin’s muffled voice declared from within the realistic costume. “Listen!” He pressed a button hidden beneath the belt, opened his mouth and Chewbacca’s distinctive growl yodeled out. “There’s a voice synthesizer in here! I totally sound authentic!”
“Top of the line outfit.” Zane grinned. “And you’re tall enough to fill out the costume.”
Zane peered around the corner, saw Jillian holding up her phone to shoot video of Casey blowing bubbles so she’d have it running for the big moment. “Let’s go. It’s show time, Fuzzball.”
“Casey,” he called as he strode out to the deck with Calvin a few beats behind. “There’s somebody here to visit you.”
Casey looked at Zane and smiled. Then his gaze darted over Zane’s shoulder, shot upward. His eyes rounded bigger than planets, his jaw dropped. The plastic bottle slid from his limp hand and landed on the deck, spilling a foamy puddle.
The child’s mouth worked soundlessly. Finally a small awed squeak emerged.
“Chewbacca” growled a greeting ... and a brilliant grin lit up Casey’s small face. “Chewie!” he whispered. He gulped. “Zane! You’re a friend of Chewbacca’s?”
“Yep.”
Breaking free of his daze, Casey ran to the costumed Calvin, who knelt and scooped the kid into a hug.
Jillian filmed the ensuing “conversation” in the last rays of the setting sun as Casey nattered a mile a minute and “Chewbacca” answered with various vocalizations, and Dean and Loucinda beamed. Zane was surprised his own face didn’t crack from grinning so hard.
Jillian eventually reluctantly lowered her phone. “I have to go, sweetie.”
“Okay.” Casey cheerfully hugged her, waved goodbye and continued his chat.
Zane followed Jillian into the kitchen.
“Oh, Zane, you must’ve spent a fortune having that professional costume choppered over from Portland and then express delivered to the house, and renting the limo for Calvin … but you made your son so happy.”
Yeah, Zane was having a serious bout of the warm-and-fuzzies himself. He didn’t live extravagantly, covering his everyday expenses then banking the rest, so he had a healthy savings account. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his money. “The joy on his face was worth every dime I own. And the limo was already arranged for us, so you go ahead and take it.” That way, she wouldn’t be driving alone. “I’ll put on my monkey suit and follow as soon as possible.”
Jillian hugged him, planted a kiss on him that scorched him with erotic promise. “I really have to run, but believe me …” Violet irises glowed with pure carnal sin. “You’re going to get big-time rewarded later tonight.”
The warm-and-fuzzies rocketed into afterburners. “Looking forward to it.”
He loped upstairs to shower, shave, and change, giving Casey more time to yak the ears off his new BFF. The plan was for Chewbacca to depart after a reasonable visit. Calvin would then sneak into the garage and transform from furry-wear to formalwear, and he and Zane would drive to the gala together.
The plan hit a snag when Zane tried to put on his shoes. Some other guy out there was wearing his tux with clown shoes, because the swamped rental shop had given Zane a pair that was at least two sizes too small. He checked his watch again. The shop had closed several hours ago.
Hell, now what? All he had were his grungy runners.
He strode downstairs barefooted. A short convo with Dean revealed that one of Jillian’s brothers wore approximately the same size shoe, and Dean was sure he could scrounge up a black dress pair at his house. If not, Zane could run by Value-World on the way out of town and hope they had something suitable.
Dean assured Zane it wouldn’t take too long, and that way Casey would get a little extra time with one of his heroes.
Zane texted Jillian about the additional delay, and she quickly pinged back, OK don’t worry abt it. Almost there. I’ll save u a dance.
Dean departed and Zane hung out with Casey, Loucinda and “Chewie” on the deck for another twenty minutes as the stars glimmered on overhead. Finally, another glance at his watch had Zane giving Calvin the signal to split.
Hugs were exchanged, and Casey watched Chewbacca depart with a thrilled sigh. “This is the bestest day of my whole entire life!”
Zane grinned at his son.
“I wanna watch Star Wars again now, okay?” Casey said. “Can I? Can I please watch Star Wars ?”
Zane glanced at Loucinda. She’d be the one stuck watching with the kid.
She grinned and nodded. “Sure thing, squirt. I wouldn’t say no to a hefty dose of Han.”
The trio went to the living room. The final inning of the ball game had been interrupted by a special bulletin announcing a bomb threat had been phoned into Congressman Reynolds’ local campaign headquarters. The screen showed squad cars surrounding the building and dozens of swarming cops, including Officer Ray and his K-9, Axel. The scene then switched to a photo of Wade and Lynn as the news anchors speculated about the bomb threat being connected to Reynolds’ run for the presidency.
Zane grabbed the remote and switched channels away from impressionable young eyes, but the damned thing was on every station.
As Calvin strolled into the living room, a tug on Zane’s suit jacket had him looking down into his son’s anxious face. “That’s the lady who came to my house, that Miss Lynn.”
“Yeah.” Zane stabbed the “off” button and the screen went black. “Mrs. Reynolds has been here quite a bit with your aunt planning the dance for tonight. Which is where she’s at now, so they’re both safe.”
“No. No!” A struggle played across Casey’s suddenly pale, stricken features. “I—” He hitched in a breath. “Zane …”
Zane knelt to the distraught child’s level. “What is it, Casey?”
“I can’t— I’m not supposed to tell,” he whispered. “But I … I think I can … I think I should tell you .”
A bad feeling wormed through Zane’s gut. “You can talk to me about anything, buddy. Anything. ”
“Th-that lady, Miss Lynn,” Casey whispered. “She w-was at m-my house the night my mommy went to sleep and didn’t w-wake up again.”
Zane inhaled though his shock. “Okay. It’s okay, Casey. Tell me everything you remember.”
“Her and Mommy were mad at each other. They yelled. Then Miss Lynn came into my room and maked me take my medicine, even though my nose wasn’t runny or stuffy.” His son pressed trembling lips together. “Miss Lynn said to go to sleep. She said … she said …” He gulped as tears began to spill down his cheeks. “If … if I ever t-told anybody she was th-there, Aunt Jelly and Poppy would g-go away and never come back. And in the morning … my m-mommy was g-gone.”
“ Jesus Christ,” Zane muttered, enfolding Casey in a hard, quick hug. “You did exactly the right thing by telling me.”
“Aunt Jelly …” Casey was crying harder now. “That Miss Lynn is with Aunt Jelly and now I told you, and now—”
“No.” Adrenaline spiking, he drew back, held his son’s gaze. “Nothing will happen to Jillian. I never break my promises.” He picked up the little boy and sat him on the sofa next to the grim Loucinda. “I have to go. I’m going to go get Jillian right away, and she’ll be just fine . Loucinda, call 9-1-1.”
Loucinda grabbed her phone from her pocket. “What do I tell them?”
Zane was already halfway up the stairs. “I want everything on the record, so the Congressman’s lawyers can’t get Lynn off on a technicality. Give ‘em my rank and name, say officer needs backup to bring in a murder suspect for questioning. Have them meet me at the inn and come in cold—no lights or sirens.” He paused long enough to toss Calvin his phone. “Text Jillian and tell her to stay in full view of a crowd of people, not to go off alone with Lynn. Don’t say why, I don’t want to shock her and alert Lynn that anything’s up. Tell Jillian I’ll explain when I get there. Lynn has no reason to hurt her at the moment, but we’re not taking any chances. Meet me in the car, seatbelt on. You can text back and forth while I drive.”
He tore into the bedroom, grabbed socks, stuffed his feet into his runners, then sprinted back downstairs. He blitzed past a startled Dean, who’d returned while he’d been upstairs.
“Zane,” Loucinda called. “I told Calvin to get in the ‘Vette. It’ll take you there faster.”
He raced out into the darkness and ducked into the car, which Calvin already had running, headlights spearing into the night. Zane gunned the engine, peeled out of the driveway in reverse. He shifted gears, hit the gas, then glanced over at Calvin in the passenger seat. “How did Jillian respond to the text?”
Calvin frowned. “She didn’t answer.”
“Shit!”
“She’s probably just busy, right? And sometimes cell service along the coast is lame, depending where you’re at.”
The phone chimed, and the teen looked down at it.
“Jillian?” Zane asked.
“No, Loucinda.” Calvin answered it. “Aw, fuck-all. Okay. Yeah.”
Alertness buzzed in Zane’s veins, heightened every sense. “What?”
“The cops can’t spare anybody for something like an arrest backup, because all available officers are at the site of the bomb threat.”
Fuck-all was right.
His phone chimed again, and Calvin exhaled gustily. “Caller ID says it’s Miss Ramsay.”
“Thank God. Put her on speaker.”
But it wasn’t Jillian’s voice that emerged, it was Farley’s. “Agent Wolfe, I think something ugly is going down.”
The bad feeling in Zane’s gut congealed into cold, oily fear. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve been kind of, you know … uh … watching Ms. Ramsay. Because she looks so boss, tonight, ya know? I’m not stalking her or anything,” he hastily added.
“Farley, get to the point.”
“Yeah. I saw her head out of the ballroom a while ago, and never saw her come back. So I went after her, you know, just to make sure she was okay. I found her purse and phone in a room way off to the back—some rinky little tea parlor where nobody is supposed to be. Her purse was on a table, but her phone was on the floor. Your number was up on the speed dial, but it looks like she didn’t have time to press ‘send.’ I’ve hunted everywhere I’m allowed to go in this fucking snobatorium, and can’t find her.”
Zane squelched his fear and channeled all energy and focus into saving Jillian. “Was anybody with her when she left?”
“Not that I saw, but this scene is jam-packed with bodies.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the tea parlor again. I thought she might come back for her stuff. But she didn’t.” His voice cracked. “You said someone was hassling her, what if—”
Zane couldn’t let himself go there. “You did a good job, Farley. Stay where you are. Don’t touch anything, don’t talk to anybody. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Zane sped up the dark, twisting highway, striving to keep at least two tires on the asphalt. “Calvin, call the inn, page the manager. Put me on speaker again.”
When the manager came on the line, Zane identified himself, recited his badge number and ordered the woman to enlist every employee to do a discreet room-to-room search for Jillian, and when they found her to have her call him. He had Calvin text a photo of her from the Center’s website.
Every muscle was taut, every instinct blaring. He still wasn’t gonna get backup from the locals because Jillian had only been missing a short time. And he only had the word of a preschooler that she might be in danger.
The bomb threat tying up every officer in the county was too damned convenient for comfort.
Lynn had cold-bloodedly poisoned a woman whose little boy was in the next room … and then terrorized that little boy.
Terrorized his son .
What did she have planned for his wife?
And why?
In hindsight, Zane realized Casey had been upset every time Lynn was around. Maybe Lynn was afraid the kid wouldn’t be able to keep from telling Jillian, or Jillian would catch on to Casey’s reaction and realize something was wrong.
His fingers clenched on the wheel so hard he was surprised it didn’t bend. And if Lynn made Jillian disappear, she’d ensure the frightened, traumatized child would never breathe a word.
Zane stomped the gas pedal and drove like Jillian’s life depended on it.
Too long.
The endless, dark, twisting trip took way too fucking long.
The manager didn’t call back to say they’d found Jillian.
Jillian didn’t call either.
Why hadn’t he told her he loved her? What if that’d been his last chance—
He axed the thought and concentrated on the road. On his next course of action.
By the time Zane screeched the ‘Vette to a halt at the inn’s front door, he was revved and battle-ready.
He leapt out of the car and jogged up the steps, where the plump, middle-aged manager was waiting, per his latest instructions. “Take me to the tea parlor.”
The woman quickly led him through a warren of dim hallways on the first floor to a small, secluded room at the very back of the inn.
Inside, Farley paced from the window to an antique table and back. The teen spotted him, heaved a relieved sigh. He indicated Jillian’s purse on the table. “Her purse is right where I found it.”
“Show me where you found her phone,” Zane demanded.
“Over here.” He led Zane to a spot in the middle of the blue Oriental carpet.
Zane visually swept the area, and a glimmer near the edge of the carpet by the door caught his eye. He strode over, squatted, and his pulse kicked.
A pearl.
One lone pearl lay on the wood floor.
Picking it up, he pocketed it and surged to his feet, looked at the manager. “Is there a back exit nearby?”
“Yes. Continue down the main corridor about forty feet. It’s only for emergency use, we don’t—”
“Everybody stay put until you hear from me,” Zane ordered, and walked into the hallway. Staring at the floor, he strode toward the exit. And found another pearl about ten feet farther down. He snatched it up, a small gleaming beacon of hope in the midst of chilling fear.
Jillian had known he would come for her. She’d left him a trail.
He eased out the back exit, palming his Beretta. Stood looking, listening in the moonlit night. On his left, the sea roared and thrashed at the base of a steep cliff. On his right a rough, sandy path wove upward through looming evergreens. He didn’t hear anything except the angry sea.
But another gleaming pearl led him up the path.
Listening carefully for any sound other than the sea, he followed the trail of pearls, like glimmering tears on the ground. Marveling at his wife’s ingenuity and praying with everything he had for her safety.
Each pearl reassured him that she was still alive to lead him onward, upward along the snaking trail in the darkness.
The wind picked up as the height increased, a salty tang blowing off the lashing sea.
And finally, when he’d almost reached the cliff’s crest, the wind carried the sound of female voices over the thundering waves.
Zane edged behind a boulder to assess the situation. Adrenaline surged though his system, his heart jackhammered, but icy resolve steeled his muscles, steadied his hands. Emotion would get his wife killed.
Jillian stood straight and steady with her back to the plunging drop-off, far too close to the cliff’s jagged edge … with Brooke beside her, weaving in a drunken sway and blubbering hysterically.
Lynn was facing the two women, holding them at gunpoint.
“Lynn,” Jillian said, and only because Zane knew her so well did he realize what the calm, reasonable tone was costing her. “I understand you’re upset. Let’s all go back to the inn. We can talk about this, and then forget it ever happened.”
Zane prowled through the undergrowth, sticking to the cover of tree trunks, foliage clumps, and boulders as he circled to put himself behind Lynn.
“Forget? Forget? ” Madness tinged Lynn’s voice, etched her profile. Her trilling laugh chilled Zane to the marrow. “I told you when you intruded on us in the tea parlor that she …” Lynn sneered at Brooke. “Hired a PI to spy on you and bug your house. She paid gang members to terrorize you so your home situation would look unsafe to the court. She confessed everything to me when I confronted her with this …” She waved the gun. “When her investigator’s hidden transmitters allowed her to overhear you talking about Wade’s … indiscretion … she used it to blackmail him into endorsing her in the custody suit.”
“But she regrets it now, right, Brooke?” Jillian elbowed the crying redhead. “Tell her you’re sorry and you won’t mention what you heard to anyone.”
“Yes, yes,” Brooke sniveled. “I won’t. I won’t say a word.”
“It’s too late,” Lynn said. “The damage has been done.”
“No,” Jillian insisted. “We can all still go home.”
“I’ve always liked you, Jillian, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re a good person and a good mother to that poor little boy. He’s already lost one mother. I got rattled when you caught me taking Brooke from the parlor, and I made you come along. I know exactly what I have to do with Brooke … but … I’m not sure about you.”
Christ, Lynn was completely unhinged—and completely unpredictable. Trying to maneuver into position faster, Zane stepped on a twig, froze when it cracked.
“Why don’t you just do the right thing for everyone—including yourself—and let us both leave?” Jillian’s question covered the noise he’d made, and he started moving again.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid Brooke’s not such a good person. Invasion of privacy, harassment, extortion. She knows too much, is too dangerous to my family.” Lynn shook her head. “Brooke did a bit too much ‘celebrating’ at the party, thanks to the extra alcohol I spiked her drinks with. Plenty of witnesses saw the way she was lurching around the ballroom. The poor tipsy woman went out for some fresh air, got disoriented, and will accidentally stumble off the cliff.”
Brooke wailed, staggered, and Jillian propped her up. “Nobody’s been hurt yet, Lynn. What about your daughters? What will happen to them if you go through with this?”
“ Everything I’ve done has always been for my girls. Hundreds of personal sacrifices for Wade’s advancement. Decades of playing those horrid political games I loathed . Pretending I was unaware of his infidelity the past few years.”
“You knew?” Jillian said softly.
“I’m not stupid. Men, especially powerful men, need their diversions. But it didn’t matter as long as Wade could be President one day, and then my girls would finally get the opportunities and acclaim they deserve. And I’d be the First Lady.” Bitterness laced her words. “But it was all for nothing. Because in the end, after I helped him climb the ladder every step of the way, he intended to throw everything in the trash. Walk out on his family, walk out on his destiny … and marry his whore.”
Zane’s gut clenched as he saw the implications hit Jillian. Her expression gave it away … and Lynn couldn’t possibly miss seeing it either. He used Jillian’s gasp to break cover and begin to steal up behind Lynn.
Fortunately the combination of being both bombed and terrified kept Brooke from focusing on him, but Jillian’s gaze darted to him, widened … then quickly swung back to Lynn.
Good job, sweetheart, now keep her talking.
“You killed Deb?” Jillian asked loud enough to cover his advance. “Because Wade was going to leave politics and leave you?”
That’s my girl.
“They’d fought about his decision. When I went to her house that night to confront her, she told me she didn’t want him to abandon his family, his ambitions for her. But he was adamant. Then when the whore died and Wade found the email she’d sent saying she’d killed herself so she wouldn’t stand in the way of him being the next President of the United States, her precious martyrdom reignited his true purpose. He was motivated to return to his preordained path.”
“Deb never would’ve willingly written that email.”
Lynn shrugged. “With her sweet, innocent boy asleep in the next room, and her growing increasingly weak and incapacitated by the medication she’d ingested, I managed to convince her it was in Casey’s best interests.”
Jillian’s jaw tightened. “Wade alibied you. Swore you were sleeping next to him the entire night.”
A little bit longer. Just another few steps.
“He thought so, but then the sleeping pills I’d slipped into his evening wine had him dozing blissfully unaware.”
Jillian managed a shaky smile. “You’re quite adept at drugging people, aren’t you?”
“I’m clever at many things. I’m going to be a perfect First Lady. The world will adore me, and my girls.”
Right behind Lynn, Zane silently holstered his Beretta. Then he purposefully took a step just loud enough to snag her attention.
She swiveled as he’d anticipated, swinging her pistol away from the women, toward him. He clamped her wrist, shoved her arm upward, and she fired one harmless round skyward before he squeezed her wrist hard enough to force her to drop the gun.
But not so harmless after all. At the ear-ringing explosion, Brooke screamed and flinched backward.
And Zane watched in horror over Lynn’s shoulder as Brooke tumbled off the cliff … grabbing and pulling Jillian over with her.
No!
God no!
Heart in his throat, he knocked out Lynn with a rapid punch to the jaw, lunged to the cliff’s edge. Throwing himself down on his stomach he leaned over the dizzying drop-off. Jillian was clinging to a jutting rock a few feet below, with Brooke’s arms wrapped around her waist like a leech, Brooke’s churning legs dangling in thin air.
Zane stretched, thrust his hands down, grabbed Jillian’s wrist. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Hang on.”
He strained to pull them up, but the women’s weight combined with Brooke’s frantic struggles slowly, inexorably tugged him down. He tried to dig in, gain a foothold, but only slid farther forward.
“We’re too heavy!” Jillian cried. “We’re pulling you over!”
“Not happening.”
But it was. And he couldn’t stop it.
Terror etched Jillian’s features. “Zane, let go!”
“No fucking way.” He yanked harder, lost more ground. Brooke’s shrieking as she flailed drowned out the roaring waves far below. “Brooke, stay still!”
“Zane.” Jillian’s voice went quiet and eerily calm, but her breathing was choppy. A storm of emotion raged in her eyes. “Casey can’t … lose both of us. Not after Deb. Let me … go.”
“Shut. Up.” Clenching his teeth, he twisted, tried to dig his toes into the dirt in a desperate attempt to gain some leverage, but was dragged another foot forward. “I. Promised. Him.”
He was hanging more than halfway over the edge now. Goddammit, if he couldn’t stop Jillian from plunging onto the rocks below, he was going with her.
But not without telling her how he felt first. His lungs pumping at the strain of holding their weight, he caught her gaze. “I. Love. You.”
Wide violet eyes reflected the stars back at him. “Zane,” she whispered.
“Should’ve. Told. You. Before.” He desperately battled against losing those final inches of solid ground … even though he couldn’t win.
Please, God! If you’re out there…
A welcome weight dropped on top of his legs, anchored him around the knees. His lethal slide stopped.
“Fuck!” Farley yelled. “Calvin, pull!”
“Yo!” Calvin’s voice responded. “ Everybody pull!”
Farley and Calvin dragged Zane, and Zane dragged Jillian, and they all inched excruciatingly back from the abyss.
Finally, Jillian cleared the cliff’s edge, followed by a still wailing Brooke.
Panting, sweating, heartbeat banging in his ears louder than a war drum, Zane broke Farley’s hold and crawled to where Jillian lay on her side, her chest heaving. He wrapped trembling arms around her, holding her tight. “Jillian,” he whispered into her neck. “I love you.”
He breathed in her precious essence. “I love you,” he said louder.
“ I love you!” he shouted.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted his head to look into her sweet face. Tears sparkled in her eyes, trailed damp tracks in the dirt on her cheeks as she both laughed and cried. “You sure picked a helluva moment to tell me, Champ.”