Chapter Sixty-One
After dinner, Jane kissed Chance goodbye and turned to Teddy. He had his scavenger hunt book tucked under his arm.
“Can we have dessert?” He smiled, showing as many teeth as possible in hopes of another ice cream cone.
Jane ruffled his hair and shook her head. “No, but we can go outside with your book.”
“And look for fireflies!” He skipped toward the sliding glass door, impatiently waiting for Jane to disarm the security system.
She approached the closest panel, housed in the pantry.
The screen normally emitted a low green light, allowing her to swiftly swipe the code, but the dark screen made her pause.
She searched for the light switch and illuminated the pantry.
The alarm panel was definitely not working.
“Hang on a sec,” she called to Teddy and then ambled to the foyer.
That security panel was dark as well. “Teddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Try the door now.”
“Is it unlocked?” He knew to wait for the mechanical voice to announce disarmed.
“It’s glitching, I think.” Jane pressed the dark screen futilely.
“See what happens when you open the door.” What was the worst thing that could happen?
They’d trigger the alarm, the police and security company would rush to the house, and she’d explain the panels were dead, unable to cancel the alarm. Easy-peasy.
Jane walked toward the kitchen and heard the sliding glass door before Teddy called, “Opened.”
“Weird,” she muttered and followed him outside.
The summer night made for an orange and purple sky. Shadows hung over the backyard. But they didn’t create enough shade for the backyard lights to turn on.
Teddy plopped onto a lounge chair. She pulled a patio chair close and rested her feet on the edge of his, watching as the little boy flipped through his book.
“Look,” he said, barely looking up from the pages. “I found the pirate and the treasure.”
Jane grinned. “Good job.”
“They were over here.” He tapped a page. “I always forget he’s not where he’s supposed to be.”
Teddy had completed every hunt in the book several times. So had she, and still, she forgot that the pirate wasn’t on his ship and the buried treasure wasn’t near the X on the map. “They’re never where they’re supposed to be,” she repeated as goosebumps chilled down her back. She didn’t know why.
“Jane?”
They both jumped and turned as Gigi emerged from a side patio.
Gigi’s long hair was chicly tied back, and she wore a black jumpsuit that Jane realized she hadn’t seen in a week or two.
Apparently, the time for mourning their Syrian disaster had passed.
Uncharacteristically though, she wore flats.
Surely designer but not sandals nor heels that made a statement.
It was the most blasé outfit Jane had ever seen the woman wear. “Gigi—what are you doing here?”
She sashayed over to pet her son’s hair as though he were her dog. “It’s my house.” Her too soft smile didn’t reach her eyes. The hairs on the back of Jane’s neck stood. “And I realized something important.”
Jane glanced at Teddy, frozen like a statue. “What’s that?”
“You never get time off.” With one last pet, Gigi finished the awkward show of affection and sat next to Teddy on the lounger. “You’re always alone in this big house.”
“I’m with Teddy.”
Gigi glanced at the boy. “True. But that can still be very lonely.”
Teddy perked up. “But we weren’t—”
“Lonely,” Jane quickly finished. She wanted to keep Chance’s name out of the conversation. There was no point in creating drama. “We’re fine. But thank you for worrying about me.”
“Aunt Courtney offered to take Teddy for a few days.”
“I’m going to Aunt Courtney’s?” His little legs bounced with excitement.
“Isn’t that great?” Gigi’s voice held an unfamiliar velvet softness that almost covered its razor edge. “You have such a great auntie.”
“When?” Teddy scooted to the edge of the lounger. “Tomorrow?”
Jane’s belly knotted. Chance was on his way to Courtney’s. Had the conversation gone that quickly? She wished he could’ve filled her in before Gigi returned.
Gigi stood. “Now, if you like.”
“Yes! Please, can I go now? Please?”
“Of course, honey.” Gigi’s smile was beautiful in the way that broken glass could shimmer in the sunlight. “Jane, would you run inside and prepare his bag for a few days?”
Teddy slapped the book shut. “I want to help pack!”
Gigi clapped a hand on his shoulder. “He can stay with me.”
Jane fought against the overwhelming urge to grab Teddy and run. “All right.” She bent on her knees, meeting him at eye level. “Any special requests?”
Teddy’s bottom lip pushed out, but his desire to see his aunt kept his pouting at bay. “Bun Bun.”
“Of course.” Jane squeezed his shoulders. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
She nodded. “Okay—”
“That’s it,” Gigi repeated tersely.
Dismissed, Jane straightened. Her heartbeat thumped faster than it should. She could taste adrenaline but didn’t know why. “Everything’s okay?”
With a quick pinch of her lips, Gigi’s icy demeanor surfaced into its usual place. “It will be so long as you can listen and do as instructed.”
The woman’s recognizable bitchiness was almost welcome. Jane kissed Teddy on the head and forced herself to walk away.
Each step increased her anxiety. She climbed the deck stairs and re-entered the kitchen through the sliding glass door, pausing as she recalled the security system problem.
Jane could tell Gigi, but what would that do?
Gigi would tell her to do what she already planned to do after Teddy’s bedtime: Notify the security company that their system was acting up again.
Actually, she had planned to call Chance and then the security company.
More than before, Jane needed to hear his voice.
She reached into her back pocket, and her stomach fell.
She’d left her phone on the table by the pool.
Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered. She wasn’t tied to her device.
But it did now. She couldn’t articulate why.
Shivering, Jane turned to retrieve her lifeline of communication.
“Hello, Jane.”
Jane spun. Her arms flew up, ready to defend herself like her uncle had trained her years before. “Dax?” Surprised recognition trumped her fight instinct. Her hands pressed to her heart. “You scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry.” He stepped out of a dark hall. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Hands still clutched over her racing heart, she tried to shake off the paranoia. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“You didn’t see Gigi outside?” He glided by her and leaned against the kitchen island, eyeing her thoughtfully.
“I did.” Jane forced her hands to her sides. “But she didn’t mention you were lurking in the shadows.”
He laughed. “I don’t know about lurking. But are Gigi and I ever apart?”
Jane shook her head.
“You’re on vacation now. I’ll fix you a drink. What’ll it be?”
She shook her head again. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, come on now. You’re off the clock.”
“I have to pack a bag for Teddy.”
“Ah, right.” Dax tossed his hand. “Better get to it.”
“Thanks.” She rushed deeper into the large house. Even though Dax wandered the first floor, Jane jerked at every little sound. The quiet hum of the air conditioning. The way her bare feet padded over the thick carpet.
It didn’t take long to pack Teddy’s bag.
Jane hid Bun-Bun at the bottom in case Gigi peeked in his suitcase and decided to throw away his favorite stuffed animal.
She returned downstairs, glancing out a large picture window at the deep purple sky.
The backyard and pool lights were off. Gigi and Teddy were nowhere to be seen.
Dax met Jane on the last step. He took the suitcase, and in place, he handed her a glass. “Cranberry vodka. My gift to you.”
“Oh, really. I don’t—” She faltered with the glass, and the cocktail sloshed. “Shoot. Sorry.”
“Jane.” He loomed over her. Too close. Too tall. “Relax.”
Every passing second ensured that she wouldn’t. The hall lights were off, and the expansive passageway was only lit from the hallway connecting to the kitchen. Dax blocked her way, forcing Jane to angle her head back. “Excuse me.”
A lazy, almost seductive grin curled on his face.
She’d always understood that Dax was an attractive man.
His good looks were magnified by his large build and broad shoulders.
Right now, those same qualities pinned her in place.
She could back onto the stairs or dive around his side.
What was he doing so close? If he touched her, she’d throw the unwanted drink in his face.
“Can we talk?”
The glass trembled in her hand. “With Gigi?”
Dax shrugged and set the suitcase down. “Would that matter?”
“Yes. What’s going on?”
Gigi and Lark stepped into the hallway. Jane pushed past Dax. “Where’s Teddy?”
“In my car,” Lark volunteered and took the suitcase. “We’ll be back in an hour.”
Jane watched the two women head toward the kitchen. She placed her glass on a decorative table that cost a small fortune, not caring, and hurried for the front door.
“Where are you going?” Dax asked.
“To say goodbye to Teddy.” Jane reached the security panel out of habit then simply unlocked the front door. No cars. She turned. “Where are they?”
“This would be easiest if you sat down and talked with me.” He approached cautiously. “Shut the door. Sit down. If cranberry vodka isn’t your drink, tell me what is.”
“Where are they?”
“Lark parked on the backside of the lot. We thought it would be best to avoid attention.”
“Why?”
Dax sighed. His stance loosened. “She mentioned you spoke with a reporter a few hours ago.”
“Lark sent the reporter to talk to me!”
“Come with me, Jane.”
At a loss, she slammed the door shut and followed Dax up the stairs. They followed the pathway toward the west wing. She rarely came to this side of the house. It housed the master quarters, which were expressly off-limits to Teddy unless directed otherwise. “Where are we going?”
He paused, giving her an odd look. “The sitting room.”
There were a half-dozen sitting rooms in this damn house. Still, she followed deeper into the west wing. Was Dax about to fire her? She hadn’t said a word to the reporter! And if they did that and didn’t let her say goodbye to Teddy? God, she’d kill him.
They entered the sitting room attached to the master bedroom. Gigi’s clothes covered a fainting couch and matching chairs. A row of high heels lined over the keys of their Steinway piano. Dax stood in the middle, amused. “Guess she packed in a rush.”
In what world did Gigi pack her own bag? “Dax?”
His eyebrows arched.
“Are you going to fire me?”
He laughed. “Would you have that drink if I said yes?”
The world spun. Her knees went weak.
“No.” Dax grimaced. “Bad joke. Sorry. No.” He flicked his hand toward the clothes. “Throw those onto the bed or something. Then we can talk.”
Funny, how they were so adamant she was on vacation.
Yet, here she was, lugging slinky dresses and piles of lingerie around.
Jane grabbed handfuls of hangers and, cleared them out.
Dax took a seat and pulled out his phone.
Within seconds, a video of what sounded like teenagers jumping on top of cars had his full attention.
Awkwardly, Jane moved Gigi’s underwear to her bed. It wasn’t organized, but for now, that wasn’t her problem. She took a seat and waited for Dax to look up. He didn’t until she cleared her throat.
Reluctantly, he put his phone away. “You sure you don’t want a drink?”
Jeez. “No.”
He stood and paced. Each tight revolution seemed to amp him up, reminding Jane of football players psyching themselves up before a big game.
This is what Dax did. It was as though he craved adrenaline so much that he called upon it constantly—most recently, in family meetings.
He curled his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching with exaggerated movements.
Tendons strained in his neck as his cheeks grew darker.
“Dax, are you okay?”
He pivoted like a sumo wrestler. His jaw flexed; his nostrils flared. Jane pushed against the back of her chair. She’d never been the sole focus of his adrenaline-driven mania before.
“Dax?” Fear broke in her voice. “You’re scaring me.”
He bounced on his toes, and his lips pulled back, revealing teeth sealed tightly together. Through clenched teeth, he managed, “Should’ve drunk your drink.”
He lunged. Two hundred pounds pinned Jane to the couch. She thrashed and kicked. His hand covered her face, forcing a cloth over her nose and mouth.
She gasped and choked. Her muscles weakened. Jane prayed for strength. She needed to kick and claw. The room spun. She closed her eyes, fighting the room’s awful tilt as the ceiling and the floor played hopscotch.
“Breathe,” Dax cooed.
She battled the snowfall of psychedelic trails until her arms and legs were too heavy to lift.
Dax floated back, kneeling next to her and staring as though she were important but worthless.
Jane couldn’t move. He pushed her chin up and closed her gaping mouth.
Jane tried but couldn’t part her lips again.
“You’ve done your job,” he whispered reverently. “I promise. This won’t hurt.”
Slowly, the edges of the world bled black and fuzzy and quiet.