by Dana Moss
She fished around the bra top of her gown and unwedged her cell phone. Thankfully, it was still intact after her fall. There was a text from Mitch and one from Kyla, who’d found out Taffy was in town and wanted to have lunch the next day, but no Ethan.
She sent Mitch a text. Got what you needed. Will bring everything by in the morning.
She was suddenly tired, and her throat was parched from too much alcohol. She just wanted to go home. Her real home.
In the last half hour, she’d concluded that she didn’t want to stay another day in New York. She wanted to go back to Abandon, curl up with Midnight, and pretend the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened. Maybe she was acting drunk and irrational, but she was beyond caring now. She’d debrief with Mitch tomorrow, have a quick lunch with Kyla, and then she’d get on a flight back to Oregon. She’d do her best to explain things to Ethan, if he’d listen. She’d try to make up with Maria, if she’d let her.
Her resolve energized her, and suddenly the subway platform felt toxic and claustrophobic. She craved fresh, above-ground air, so she left the station and started walking again, this time in her stockinged feet.
She thought of the conversations she needed to have with Macy and Cher, with Maria, and with Ethan. She thought about starting over, and resolving not having anything to do with Maria’s cases. Could she do that? Could she put it all behind her and begin again in Abandon? Is that what she wanted?
After ruminating for blocks, she stopped and looked up. She was standing on the corner of Fifth Avenue, directly in front of Tiffany’s. Had it only been this afternoon that she’d swirled through that revolving door? It felt like a lifetime ago.
She walked up to the window to stare at the wedding engagement window display. What a fool she’d made of herself. That afternoon and that evening. Luke was right, she had changed. And Ethan was right, too. She still cared too much about all the wrong things. She placed her palm on the plate glass. The icy blue light of the display created a halo around her hand. Why was what she wanted always just out of reach?
Knowing what she wanted was half the battle, and she’d been fighting that one a long time, but the other half of the battle was learning to accept what was real and right in front of her. Within reach.
She dropped her hand to her side and looked up the street toward Central Park.
A lone cab was parked on the next corner, its vacant light on. Taffy wandered over and knocked on the window. The driver glanced at her tangled updo, her torn dress, and her bare feet and nonchalantly—as if he saw this every day in New York, and he probably did—said, “Where to, Miss?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
In the bright light of day and with the dull ache of a hangover, Taffy’s heroic plans to fly back to Oregon and put everything back in its place suddenly seemed naive and wishful.
Ethan was mad at her. Maria was mad at her. Luke was mad at her. Even Mitch would be mad at her for being indiscreet last night. The society pages were there for all to see. Nana and Atticus were chortling over the spread at breakfast when Taffy walked in moaning for coffee.
She ignored their jokes and a few of Nana’s “oh my”s. To Nana’s suggestion that they order take out for dinner that night since it might not be safe for Taffy to be seen in public, she’d replied that she’d already booked her ticket back to Oregon for that afternoon. Then she got dressed to go see Mitch.
She took the notebook, phones, and spy jewelry to him at his hotel. He’d been upset that she’d gone rogue late last night, but she’d redeemed herself with the contents of Veronica’s little black clutch.
“You were right about the foreign investment and money laundering. And art forgery. She has a ton of Russian contacts. I also overheard her talking about illegal Russian adoption schemes. This is the kind of thing you were hoping for, right?” She pulled out the cell phones and notebook. “I think this will give you her contacts for the money laundering. Follow up fast because I’m sure she’ll cover her tracks quickly.”
Mitch agreed that the phone numbers listed looked like they were from the same neighborhood, and when he checked the first three, they all had “Tony’s” in the name: Tony’s Tailor, Tony’s Pizzeria, Tony’s Pawn Shop. There was even a Tony’s Laundrette.
“Great work, Taffy.”
He took the phone from her. A second later, it rang.
Mitch and Taffy locked eyes. He handed her the phone, “Answer it as if you’re Veronica.”
“What?” It might be Veronica herself trying to track down her phone.
Mitch pointed to the phone.
Taffy cleared her throat. “Veronica Reese speaking.”
“Hello darling, it’s Angela. Good news. The café in Carmel accepted your offer. It’s a done deal.”
“Oh?”
Café? Taffy struggled to say what Veronica might say. “Wonderful. My clients will be happy to hear that.”
“Your clients? Don’t joke with me. Darling, this one’s for you. You two will absolutely love it here. And with the bungalow to go with it. Heaven!”
“Oh, yes, of course. Right.”
“I’ll send the papers over for you to sign. Same email, the private one?”
“Uh, which is the one you have again?” Taffy had the woman spell it out to confirm, and she wrote it down for Mitch. Maybe his team could hack into it for more leads.
At the end of the conversation the woman on the line said. “I’ll have more news on the high rise later today. Ta-ta!”
Taffy handed the phone back to Mitch. He was pleased with the extra information and noted the real estate agent’s phone number too.
“If she’s doing it for her, she’s doing it for others. We can probably talk her into turning on at least one of her clients.”
“And once we do backgrounds on the shops, this just might be enough to bring Veronica in for charges. My team should then have enough proof for Snelldrive to file charges.” He smiled with satisfaction.
“Is that the name of your client?” The name was familiar. Taffy had heard it before, but she couldn’t remember where.
“I shouldn’t have let that slip. That’s confidential, okay?”
She nodded. “My lips are sealed.”
He looked at Taffy, who had no energy for smiling.
“What’s wrong?’ he asked.
She looked down at her hands, momentarily remembering her palm pressed against the glass at Tiffany’s. “Ethan showed up at the gala last night.”
“Did he?” Mitch smiled broadly now, as if he knew something, but was pretending that he didn’t. “And how did it go?”
She flipped over her empty hands, a small gesture of defeat. “He found me with someone else.”
Mitch glanced at her open hands. He looked confused. So Taffy explained.
“Luke, my ex-boyfriend, was my date. It was the only way I could get myself a ticket to the gala. He made assumptions, his family made assumptions, Ethan made assumptions. It went down all wrong. He must hate me now.”
Mitch furrowed his brow and scratched his chin. “That doesn’t sound like Ethan. He loves you. I know that for a fact.”
Taffy smirked. “A fact you didn’t like much. So you’ll be happy to know it isn’t true anymore.”
Mitch opened his mouth to say something, but Taffy cut him off.
“Don’t try to pretend you approved of us. I know you wanted Ethan to be with someone more his type. Someone less selfish and materialistic.”
Mitch sighed. “That’s what he wanted. Once. Until he met you.”
Taffy knew this already. She’d always assumed Ethan struggled with their differences as much as she did, but she felt defeated and without the energy she knew she needed to put up another fight, either for her relationship with Ethan or her life in Oregon.
“Maybe it’s easier this way. Maybe it’s best he thinks I’ve traded him in for someone else and traded my home in Abandon for my home in New York.”
Taffy had started to choke up with she said
the word “home” but she shook off her feelings and added, “I’ll get used to living here again…”
Mitch said, “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”
She shrugged.
“Look, there are things you don’t know about Ethan.”
She steeled herself. More lies and half-truths? She didn’t know if she could take it. She didn’t know if it mattered anymore.
She withdrew her hand. “You have to get back to your sting on Veronica.” She looked down at the purse. “Catch her in her lies. Put her behind bars if you can. I still think she had something to do with Blake’s death, but I haven’t found any proof. So if you find anything that could help me—I mean Maria—please call her.”
She knew he must be dying to sort through everything on Veronica’s phones, but he set them aside and took Taffy’s hand. “I think you should give Ethan a second chance.”
“It’s not him who needs it, it’s me. And I don’t see him making an offer.”
Before Mitch could say anything more, she withdrew her hand, walked to the hotel room door, and left.
She would go back to Abandon to sort out the house. She could ship back what she wanted to keep by freight. Ellie could handle the factory for an extended period. She wasn’t really ready to settle back in New York right away. The dust had to settle around Luke, and her heart would have to get over Ethan. She’d take an extended trip maybe. Put the past behind her and not rush into the future. That future wasn’t with Luke. She was sure of that. But it didn’t seem to be with Ethan either. She didn’t know where it would be actually. But wherever it was, she would pack up Midnight and take him with her. He could learn to be an Upper East Side gentleman cat. If Nana would agree. Or maybe he’d learn to be an Indian ashram cat. Or a Costa Rican yoga-surfing cat. Taffy was open to any and all possibilities.
* * *
Before Taffy’s flight back to Oregon, she met Kyla for sushi.
“This place is fancy.”
“It just opened a few months ago. The original one is on the West Coast.”
Taffy wondered if it was the same place where Veronica had taken her associates the night before.
Kyla scanned the menu. “I’ve already ordered the sea urchin, want some?”
“Ick, no thanks.”
“Oooh. They have fugu!”
“What’s that?” Taffy said. Kyla might as well be speaking Japanese to her.
“One my faves but not for the faint of heart.”
“I’ve never tried it.”
“That’s because if it’s not prepared properly, it could kill you. I can’t get Macy and Cher to come here with me. Cher’s freaked out about most seafood, and she will not touch this stuff. With her paranoia about her allergies, she won’t go anywhere near fugu.”
“Since when did she get so fussy? Honestly, Ky, those two have been driving me crazy. They definitely don’t belong in small town Oregon.”
“Who from New York does?”
Taffy sighed. “Actually, I might.”
Kyla laughed. Then she saw Taffy wasn’t laughing. “You’re not joking?”
Taffy had wanted to talk to a friend. Maybe Kyla wasn’t the right choice. Maybe none of her old friends were.
Kyla set the menu aside. “But I thought you and Luke got back together?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“From Luke himself. And from Cher. And there was that cute picture of you two in this morning’s society spread.”
Taffy set down her handleless cup of green tea a bit too forcefully. “You must not have turned to page two.”
The waiter came and took their order. When he left, Kyla leaned across her cup of green tea and said, “But you came back to see him, didn’t you? Why did you tell everyone your Nana was sick when what you really wanted was to see how you felt about Luke?”
Taffy scowled. “I came back for a different reason. I just can’t talk about it.”
Kyla leaned back and smirked. “We know you, Taffy. You’re a New York socialite through and through.”
She shook her head. “I’ve changed. I haven’t been living here for a year. I’ve made a home for myself somewhere else.”
“We all get to go slumming now and again. You’ll be forgiven.”
Taffy glared at her.
“It’s just a figure of speech. Geez, you’re sensitive. But come on. New York is your life. Summers in the Hamptons are your future. Not camping in the wilderness.”
“People change.”
“Not people like you.”
“I have changed. People like Luke bore me now.” And if Kyla wasn’t careful, she’d be on that list too.
“You’ll have plenty to keep you entertained if you hook back up with Luke.”
“But I don’t want to be entertained. I want more from life.”
Kyla looked confused. “Like what?”
“Like real, true love. Like helping people. Like finding out the truth when someone’s covered it up.”
Kyla leaned back in her chair. “You really think you’re some kind of sleuth?”
“I’m really good at helping my friend Maria. And it’s satisfying work.”
Kyla laughed. “The only thing satisfying about work is not having to do it.”
Their order arrived. Kyla touched her tongue to one exotic looking piece, which must have been the fugu. “You know there are places in Japan that leave just a bit of the toxin in so you get a really weird buzz when you eat it? It’s not allowed in the states though. Chefs have to be trained to clean them free of it, but I’ve always wanted to go to Japan and see what the high is like. It’s risky, though. Too much of it can kill you.”
“So that’s something you might want to do because it would be entertaining.”
“Wouldn’t it be though? And dressing up as a geisha. I’d like to do that too.”
Was everything in Kyla’s world just about consuming exotic experiences?
“Don’t you ever want to do ordinary things?”
Kyla grimaced as if ordinary were a dirty word. “Like what exactly?”
“Don’t you sometimes just want to settle down with someone you love, have a home, have some kids?”
Kyla looked like she’d just swallowed something bitter. “I can’t believe how boring that sounds. I suppose I’ll have to fit that in some time, but I’ll have nannies, lots of holidays, and house parties for friends. Shopping for little girls’ clothes might be fun sometimes. I’ll find ways to make it fun, I guess. Or maybe I won’t do it at all. I don’t know yet. Depends.”
“It’s not really something you can pick off a rack, Ky.”
“Why not? There are catalogs for everything. Even potential boyfriends. And I hear they’re working on customizing DNA now. Designer babies.” She winked. “I could dig that.”
Taffy watched Kyla eat her delicacies. Taffy wasn’t a huge fan of sushi, but when she ate it, she liked to stick to the basics, like the California roll she was picking at now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sushi. It wasn’t available in Abandon. And then she recalled that the Castle Rock Resort had just added it to their menu. Macy and Blake had been eating some the night she’d met them. The night he’d died…
“What’s in that stuff that could kill you?”
“Some kind of toxin. I can’t pronounce it. But like I said, they don’t let that into the states ever.”
“That’s what they say about illegal drugs too. Doesn’t seem to stop them from getting in.”
Kyla shrugged her agreement and polished off her last bites. She licked her chopsticks. “Green tea ice cream for dessert?”
* * *
On the plane ride home Taffy tried to sleep, but she had strange dreams about knife-wielding, poisonous fish and Ethan wearing a backless, crystal-flecked gown, while Luke, dressed like a chef, tattooed something on Ethan’s forehead. She chalked it up to her disagreeable sushi lunch.
Puzzle pieces free-floated through her imagination, refusing to match their
edges. She was convinced Veronica was behind Blake’s death, but she had no way to locate her at the scene of the crime. She was also convinced Lorne had worked on Veronica’s behalf. Would Maria be able to get a confession out of him? What if he took the fall for Veronica and she got off scot-free? There might not be anything Taffy could do about it. Whether or not Lorne or Macy took the blame, Veronica would walk away with her insurance policies and a tidy inheritance, much more than the prenup settlement she would have gotten had Blake managed to divorce her and marry Macy. Unless Taffy could prove she’d done it. At any rate, Mitch would soon have enough dirt on her to slow her down for a while, but it still irked Taffy that she might actually get away with murder. It was probably a vain hope that Mitch’s investigation would reveal a detail that could help prove Veronica had orchestrated Blake’s death, but Taffy was not one to give up hoping. Except maybe when it came to Ethan.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
When Taffy landed at the airport that afternoon, no one was there to greet her. She dragged her suitcases out to her car only to find one of the tires had gone flat. Changing a tire was not a skill she intended to master after her long flight, so she did what any respectable socialite might do: she dragged her suitcases back inside and walked up to the car rental counter.
“Hey, Ronald. I need a car for a day.”
“Sure thing, Taffy. That was a quick trip.”
“Turns out Dorothy was right. There’s no place like home.”
While Ronald gathered the papers, Taffy stared at the signs behind the counter. Something about the green and yellow logo made her memory itch. Of course, she’d seen the company logo before, but this was something else… She’d seen it somewhere recently that had some kind of relevance. She wracked her memory. Then she pulled out her phone.
