Murder, Madness & Love (Detective Quaid Mysteries #1) Page 13

  Steven’s comment had cut her so deeply, Sarah thought she would suffocate. She went upstairs, thinking the views from the top floor would give her perspective, would help her find some peace. She needed some time alone to gather her thoughts and collect herself. Sarah had to give Steven credit: he’d done his job well, and she had forgotten his real reason for being there. She had forgotten that, while he was also searching for her stalker, Steven hoped to catch her in a lie, to find something to prove Sarah was the black widow the papers said she was. He had done an excellent job: she let her guard down, relaxed, and felt safe, certain he had changed toward her.

  The night had become, for a few moments, an escape from reality, but Steven Quaid epitomized reality. She reviewed her time with him—had she flirted with him? Yes, oh god, yes. Had she let him get too close? Of course, but it felt so right. In his arms I sensed no terror, and, when he held my hand, I never wanted him to let go, even while we discussed Michael. I began to believe I could tell him everything. But he only sees me as the black widow. Will that label taint all my relationships? Tears filled her eyes, and, try as she might to hold them back, Sarah found that she simply couldn’t. Damn it, why am I so emotional!

  Sarah prayed for the horror to be over because the terror she kept pushing back fought for its own voice, and tonight her actions filled her with remorse and became kryptonite to her efforts to maintain control.

  Weakness a sign of failure. Control a sign of strength. Words her father had taught her. Never show anything but strength, never. His words echoed in her head, and she fought to find balance. Leaning against the window, she ignored the view, closed her eyes, and looked inside for peace.

  “I remember that stance,” Scott said as he joined her. “The weight of the world crushing those delicate shoulders. Talk to me, Sarah? Let me help.”

  She craved just a few moments of peace, but she would not get them tonight. Sarah thought she heard concern in his voice, but, with Scott, she could never be sure. She quickly pushed her emotions down. Sarah lifted her head, and straightened her shoulders.

  “Like you did yesterday?” She started to walk away, and while tears may not have been falling, they coated her voice, and she struggled to keep them silent.

  He gently touched her upper arm. “Please, Sarah, let me talk. I need to apologize for yesterday. What I did was inexcusable, and I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I’m hoping, for friendship’s sake, maybe you can forgive an old flame.”

  His sincerity surprised her, as Sarah had never known Scott to apologize for anything. He had a way of making her think he had, but he never said the words “I’m sorry” because he never really was.

  “Sarah, I know why you’re with Quaid. The police visited me yesterday after our little incident on the dance floor. You’re in danger, but please don’t fear me. If I’d known the trouble you were in, I never would’ve…”

  “You purposely provoked me, and you know it!”

  “And I’m admitting I was an ass. No, I am an ass. Forgive me.” He kissed her hand, and his gentleness made her frown soften. He noticed this and sighed deeply. “Thank you. Now, tell me, what is really going on? I know they think these recent murders have something to do with you. Have you been threatened?”

  “Let’s not talk about it, please. I just want to forget, at least for tonight. Tell me about you, how you’ve been. How your family is, anything but murder.”

  They strolled slowly down the hall, hand in hand, silent for several minutes. Glad for the peace, Sarah stopped again to admire the view of the Sleeping Lady. Scott watched her as she traced the shape of the mountain on the window with her finger.

  “Still your favorite place?”

  She smiled. “Yes, always.”

  “Sarah, why did you leave me?” Scott asked, tenderness softening his voice—another surprise.

  He at least deserved the honest answer.

  “You didn’t need me. You already had a wife and three children. I didn’t fit into your life.” “We were divorced. I don’t understand.”

  “You had young children, and you wouldn’t let me be part of their lives.

  “They were young, and the divorce was difficult for them. We would’ve worked things out. Eventually.”

  “But I needed you, too. My parents died, and you… you weren’t there. You were in California, with Sherry.”

  “I’m sorry; Sherry claimed she had an emergency. I couldn’t desert my children.”

  “Exactly, and I didn’t want you to, but I realized they’d always come first, and they should. But, at the time, I needed to come first, at least once.”

  “You’re right. Things were tough. What I couldn’t understand, and still don’t, is why you moved to Seattle. Something we never discussed. One moment we’re a couple, you’re pursuing your degree, and the next day you’re leaving for the lower forty-eight, permanently. It shocked me.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to hurt or shock you, but I also knew if I gave you half a chance to talk me out of it, you would. I loved you, and barely had the strength within myself to leave, but your reaction surprised me. You never tried to stop me. If I remember correctly, you said I should do what I thought best for me. Patty told me you were trying to reconcile with Sherry; I didn’t want to interfere.”

  “Ego, and anger, did the talking, and Patty couldn’t have been more wrong. Sherry only wanted a bigger settlement.”

  Sarah grinned. “When you didn’t protest, I assumed Patty to be right. Leaving seemed the only solution.”

  Scott nodded. “Convinced you wouldn’t make it in the big bad world on your own, I waited. Certain any day you’d come home.” He chuckled. “I guess pride became our downfall.”

  “Pride, but more likely providence,” she said.

  “Maybe then,” he agreed. “But what about now?”

  “Too much has changed. We’re different people, and what about Karen? She’s very taken with you.”

  “Yes, and we’ve become friends, but she knows my reason for coming tonight was primarily so I could apologize. You have her loyalty. She thinks you and I make a great couple, and I agree. After all, this is a different time. We’ve come through a lot, and maybe the present moment belongs to us. Have dinner with me. We’ll talk and get to know one another again. I still have feelings for you. At first, I admit it was anger. For god’s sake, you move back to Anchorage, and I don’t even rate a telephone call—nothing. It upset me. And yesterday, I wanted you to know how much. Childish, and a mistake. I truly am sorry.”

  She smiled. “You’re forgiven.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. Scott moved closer. Fearing her own emotions, Sarah stepped back.

  “Talking about mistakes—that slap. Now the police are interested. I think we need to wait until after they solve this mystery. I don’t want the police to think they have to oversee my dates, too. Scott, they’ve asked me to tell them about you.”

  “So, what is there to tell? My life’s an open book.”

  “I won’t discuss it. The police don’t care about a person’s innocence. The quickest solution is all that matters.”

  “You’ve had a lousy time of it, haven’t you? I had no idea, but you don’t have to shield me.”

  “See, Sarah, Mr. Chase doesn’t need your protection,” Steven said as he reached her side. He took her by the hand. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”

  For several seconds, he held one hand and Scott held the other. Sarah pulled away from both of them. She lifted the skirt of her gown so that she could move more quickly and strode toward the exit. The men followed.

  “Lurking in the background, detective? Sarah tells me I’m your chief suspect.”

  Anything Steven might have said about the case came to a screeching halt when Karen and Gerry rounded the next corner.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Karen took Scott by the arm and smiled. “Are you two finally catching up on old times? You know, Sarah, I th
ink the only reason Scott came to this party was to get to you.” Karen said it dismissively and snuggled closer to Scott, but all the men looked at Sarah.

  Sarah blushed and an embarrassing silence followed. Steven quickly changed the subject.

  “It’s late, and we were leaving. Good night, all.” Steven saluted them and guided her back downstairs. The others followed.

  After they said their farewells, Steven took Sarah to a temporary headquarters, located in a suite of rooms in the hotel. His team was waiting, and Steven wanted to debrief them while everything was fresh in their minds. He took Sarah to a small bedroom and directed another officer to make sure she stayed put. She opened her mouth to protest, but Steven vanished and a tall, muscular man with folded arms stood in the doorway.

  Sarah threw her cape on the bed, curled up on an easy chair, and closed her eyes. She almost fell asleep, but the guard coughed and startled her. She tried to settle in again, but couldn’t recapture the peace she’d attained earlier, still she waited. At first, Sarah tried to be patient, but as the minutes ticked by, she lost endurance. After thirty minutes, all patience had waned, and Sarah became angry. She wanted to go home, where she could change, relax, and feel safe again. She approached the officer, who Sarah was sure had not moved an inch.

  “Please, let me leave. I’m not a prisoner. You can’t hold me against my will,” she boldly declared.

  “Sorry, Miss. Just following orders.” He did not move a muscle.

  “Thank you, Sergeant. I’ll take over.”

  As soon as Steven stepped into the room, Sarah scooped up her cape and brushed past him to exit the hotel. Outside, Ethan—the acting chauffeur—opened the door of the Mercedes for Sarah to get in. She refused with a short shake of her head.

  “I’d prefer the front,” she said, and slid into the front seat without waiting.

  Sarah hated sitting in the back seat, and, when Eddie drove for her, she always sat up front with him. Steven acted quickly, as he wanted to continue their conversation, and asked D. J. to drive Ethan home. When he got into the driver’s side, Sarah scowled.

  “I’m more comfortable in the front too,” he said.

  They were on the road for several minutes before Steven broke the silence. “Did you and Chase have a good reunion?”

  “Wonderful. Did you find the stalker?”

  “Not quite. So you told Scott he was a suspect?”

  “I didn’t have to; your visit yesterday confirmed that. Please, I’m tired; and it’s a long drive home. Can we forego the interrogation?”

  “Of course. It’s been a long evening.” Steven meant to apologize for his comment earlier, but, when he saw her being so friendly with Chase, he’d become angry instead. He felt as if he had just caught his wife kissing a stranger. He was on a case, not a date, and as such he had no right to be upset. Anderson had reminded Steven of that earlier in the evening when Steven lost his cool because Sarah had left the ballroom. A rookie telling him how to run his case raised Steven’s ire.

  Steven worked to put the wall back up between them, but his head and heart were on different paths. The silence lasted for a long ten miles, but Steven broke the peace with another upsetting statement.

  “I’ll be staying in Eddie’s room tonight, by the way. He wanted to spend some time with his girlfriend. It’s her birthday, so I volunteered to take over his duties, especially since we were going to be out together anyway.” When Sarah didn’t respond, Steven continued. “I’m glad you’re leaving town for the holidays. It’s probably a good idea. I think you’re safe until January 14, and even then, you’re not the real target, are you? Not until your anniversary date.”

  When Sarah turned on the radio, Steven fell silent. The now familiar knife twisted through her chest. He found her at fault, as if she had no compassion for the innocent lives lost. The guilt washed over her, and she wished she could shout from the rooftops, I’m innocent. But shouting would achieve nothing. Dad, what would you do? Please, tell me. How do I fix this?

  Her discussion with Scott had brought up the painful memories of her parents’ deaths. The fear of the unknown when the plane was first lost in the mountains. The hope she’d felt when they found it, and then the intense loss when the rescuers discovered them dead.

  Sarah closed her eyes and tried to imagine her mother’s protective arms around her, but Steven’s phone rang. He turned the radio off, and she listened to the one-sided conversation all about her. Her head pounded, but, in a way, she was grateful, because the physical pain took her mind off her conflicting emotions. When Steven was done on the phone, he hung up, but didn’t turn the radio back on. Sarah was grateful for the silence.

  Once at the house, Sarah went to the kitchen and heated water for tea. Steven followed and sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar. He feigned interest in his notes so that he could observe Sarah. She retrieved a bottle of Tylenol from the kitchen cupboard, and a bottle of water from the fridge.

  She, took her pills, and drank half of the bottle of water, her eyes on Steven the entire time. She kicked off her shoes, set them aside, and began preparations for her tea. Once the water boiled, instead of using a tea bag, he watched as she prepared an herbal combination of loose tealeaves with an infuser, in a fancy little teapot with a tea cozy, and a delicate teacup.

  “Why go to so much trouble? Isn’t a tea bag easier?” Steven was amused by her ministrations, yet mildly annoyed because she had not asked him if he wanted anything.

  “An old family recipe; it’s supposed to eradicate life’s irritations.” Sarah picked up her shoes, balanced the tray, and, without as much as a good night, left the kitchen to retire upstairs.

  He watched her go, so caught off guard by her comment he had no quick retort. “Life’s irritations? Try protecting the bitch from hell.” He muttered under his breath when he finally thought of a reply. “God, she’s exasperating.”

  Sarah felt exhausted all the way to her soul. For a few minutes this evening, she had enjoyed herself. Steven had been tolerable, kind—at least she thought he had been—and then his true colors had come through once more. Sarah tried, however, to concentrate on the positive, not the negative. She changed into a silky blue lace nightgown, released her hair from its binds, and relaxed on the chaise in front of a warm fire to enjoy her tea. When her headache began its retreat, she combed her hair.

  The doorbell rang, and Sarah slipped on her robe, hurrying to answer it. She hoped Eddie had changed his mind. Without a cautionary look through the peephole, she opened the door.

  “Scott? Karen? Why are you here?”

  “Karen said you were leaving tomorrow, and I had to see you.” Scott’s eyes bore into Sarah with an intensity that startled her.

  Karen strained to see farther into the room, oblivious to Scott’s mood. “It’s so beautiful! Jackson and I were hoping you’d have a housewarming party when you bought the place, but you didn’t. So when Scott said he had to see you before you left town, I thought: why not? I’ve been dying to see this place.”

  “Yes, well, it’s late. Couldn’t this wait?” Sarah shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the unexpected intrusion.

  “We have guests?” Steven joined Sarah at the door.

  “Oh dear, I think we’ve interrupted. I knew we should’ve called first.” Karen gave Scott a pointed look.

  “Yes, well, we were just about to call it a night.” Steven informed them, sliding his arm around Sarah’s waist. Sarah had no choice but to play along, and so she relaxed, leaned against him, and let him rest his other hand on her elbow. They looked every bit like a loving couple.

  “What’re you doing here?” Scott demanded, stepping into the entry.

  Sarah watched his eyes as he took in their state of dress, she in a nightgown, while Steven was shirtless. The jealousy in Scott’s expression was easily deciphered. She almost blurted the truth—Steven’s just a bodyguard—but caught herself, especially after everything they’d pretended
earlier.

  “We’re ready to retire. What are you doing here?” Steven demanded.

  “Don’t worry, Steven,” Karen said, pushing her way in. “Scott just has a business deal he wants to discuss with Sarah. Why don’t you give me the grand tour of this place while they finish their conversation?” Karen linked arms with Steven.

  “Great idea,” Scott said. “Sarah, do you mind?”

  “No, of course not. Come in.” She glared at Steven, as if to say, this is my house and my decision. He did not challenge her but put his hand on Karen’s arm and followed Sarah and Scott to the den, where they deposited their coats, and Sarah struck a match to light the fire.

  “This is going to be my favorite room in the house,” Karen declared. “The openness of the great room, with its connection to the kitchen and dining room, is awesome, but this room is so cozy and warm. What a spectacular log home.”

  “Thank you.” Sarah smiled and turned to Steven. “Would you mind?

  “My pleasure.” Steven gently guided Karen by the elbow. “Come on, the tour begins now.”

  Once they were gone, Sarah turned her attention to Scott. “Would you like a brandy?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Scott relaxed. “Your home really is impressive. May I put the music on, just in case the walls have big ears?”

  “Sure, take your pick.” Sarah smiled at his joke, then joined Scott by the stereo after she’d filled a snifter with brandy for him.

  “You’re breathtaking.” He was openly admiring her nightdress.

  Scott’s observation made her aware of her vulnerability. The floor-length blue lace gown with matching robe, not for public consumption, embarrassed her.

  “I should change.”

  As Sarah moved toward the door, Scott caught her by the wrist.

  “No, please don’t. It’s not why I’m here, I promise. I just want to talk. Besides, if I get out of hand, all you have to do is yell, and your bodyguard, along with my date, will gladly come to your rescue.”

  “All right, so tell me, why are you here?”