Something in his tone caught Owen’s attention, and he looked up. In spite of his words, Cedarhurst looked pleased as a pigeon. He leaned toward Owen, modulating his voice down to what he clearly considered a whisper.
“You want to blow off some steam, do yourself a favor and sign up for the ‘me-time meditation session.’” He winked one beady eye and licked his fleshy lips.
Owen swallowed his revulsion, faking a casual grin. “Oh yeah? Relaxing, was it?”
“Not at first, but I was really relaxed when it was over, if you know what I mean.”
There was no mistaking him now, and all of Owen’s senses stood at attention. “Who was your instructor?”
“Liza.”
Adrenaline blasted through him as another piece of the puzzle slipped into place. She was a major player in whatever this scheme was, and seduction was her specialty. But what was the end game? Time to put the screws to Gavin and get an answer. Now. “I’m going to have take a rain check on that drink.” He clapped Cedarhurst on the shoulder a little harder than was warranted and stood. “I think I’ll go make that appointment right now. I’m feeling a little tense.”
The other man’s belly jiggled with laughter. “Guy’s gotta have his priorities. You enjoy yourself, son.”
He bit back a snarl and resisted the urge to deck the fucker. Sadness for sweet Bitsy Cedarhurst swamped him. Not only had her husband cheated on her, he’d added insult to injury by bragging about it to a near stranger. But he couldn’t think about what that philandering scum had done. It was all about Cara right now, and Cedarhurst’s admission had put a nail in Nico’s proverbial coffin.
He slapped on a smile. “I plan on it.” That was no lie. Busting Nico was going to be loads of fun. He took the stairs two at a time and barreled into the room.
“Lindy?” he called. No response. He took a quick look around, but she was gone. Disappointment warred with relief. He wanted to share what he’d learned about Liza, but he wasn’t ready to face her again. His emotions were all over the place, and the heavy sadness he’d felt since he’d walked out might cause him to do something he’d regret. He needed time away from her, and soon enough he’d be back to his former self. Alone and liking it.
He rifled through his briefcase in search of his cell, but it was nowhere to be found. A low hum from the corner of the room caught his attention. His phone sat on the bedside table, and he had an incoming text. He crossed the room and snatched it up. Gavin.
This no phone thing is bs. Call me asap.
He hit the call back button and Gavin picked up. “About time.”
Owen frowned. “You texted two seconds ago. How much quicker could I have been?”
“I’ve been trying to get you for hours.”
“Hang on.” Owen pulled the phone from his face and peered down. Only one unread text. A feeling of dread unfurled in his belly. It was from Lindy. This one hit him like a blow to the gut.
Ur phone was going nuts. Was worried there was an emergency & saw the text from Gavin. I think I figured the rest out. Out w/Nico and hope to return w/proof.
–L
He scrolled to the earliest text from Gavin, hoping to get some context.
Got the scoop on ur phony Liza Ingram. Verrry interesting. What kinda shit r u involved in over there that has u mixed up w/a Vegas prostitute? Call me.
Another nail in the coffin for Stephanopoulos. Everything was falling neatly into place. Soon enough, Nico would be neatly entrapped. Only one problem. There were few things more dangerous than a cornered animal. He made a split decision and picked up the phone.
“Cara, can you come now? I need you to help me find Lindy.”
…
She stood outside Nico’s office door and knocked tentatively. No one answered, but then, she hadn’t expected anyone to. She’d left Nico right outside his bedroom door not ten minutes before. She glanced around again, then slid the key into the lock. The resulting snick seemed so loud in the deserted corridor, she winced. But it had worked.
When she’d first seen the key, she hadn’t been sure it would. The lodge, although opulent, had a lot of rustic touches, and the heavy oak doors with the old fashioned locks had been one of them. When she’d spied the key on Sarabeth’s desk the morning before, she knew she’d filch it if she got the opportunity. When she saw Gavin’s text, she’d stopped waiting and had made the opportunity. After her fight with Owen, getting this thing done and over with was crucial. She needed to get the hell away from him before she humiliated herself more than she already had. Then, surrounded by her puppies and Melba and her silly brothers, she’d weep her eyes out for the next month or so like a girl in unrequited love was supposed to.
She slipped the key in her pocket, tamping down the guilt that had nagged her over her method of acquiring it. She only hoped Sarabeth would forgive her if she ever found out. With one last glance up and down the hallway, she slipped inside and closed the door softly behind her. The moon was bright, and a large window let in enough light to make the flashlight in her pocket unnecessary.
She peered around the room, taking in its contents. A giant walnut desk took up a large section of the room, but she wasn’t interested in that. What held her attention was the bay of monitors against the far wall. Her heart hammered, and she moved closer. She’d always thought it was strange that Nico had never invited her in, always choosing instead to stand outside the door until she left. When she approached the monitors, it no longer seemed strange.
The ballroom dance studio lit one of the screens. Empty and cast in shadows, it seemed innocuous enough. But another feed, this one of the massage room, filled her with cold dread. She’d been in that room, almost nude. Six screens in all, each broadcasting the goings on in all of the private rooms of the lodge. Playing a hunch, she hit the rewind button on one featuring the meditation room. Two minutes later, she watched a playback of Liza, urging Owen to lie back. To relax, let her—
The door swung open, and Lindy jerked her hand away with a gasp.
“Nico, I was hoping I’d find you.”
“Let me guess. The door was open, and you thought you’d take a look around?”
“Y-yes. I was just about to leave when I saw you weren’t in here.”
His icy smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she knew she was busted. Of course he hadn’t believed her. Who can sniff out a charlatan better than another charlatan?
“Riiight. So you didn’t happen to see these, I’m sure.” He gestured to the televisions with his gun-wielding hand.
Gun.
Her heart pounded, and her vision blurred. Shit, think, Lindy, think! “I don’t care about any of this,” she said coldly, hoping he didn’t hear the tremor in her voice. “I want to know if my bastard husband is cheating on me again.”
He waved the gun at her with an icy smile. “Sit.”
She sat down on the armchair near the bay of monitors, and he leaned in to fiddle with the buttons. Calvin Cedarhurst’s face rose on the screen. The camera panned wide, and Liza entered the frame to slide sinuously over his bloated body. Calvin clutched her head in his meaty paws and pressed her face down toward his crotch. Lindy turned away, bile roiling in her stomach, and Nico hit pause.
“That’s the money shot right there. I’ve been in business for less than six months and you know how many of those I have? Sixty. This was our last run before we disbanded The Healing Place and cashed in.” His face stretched into a sly smile, and she wondered how she’d ever thought him handsome. “Tell me, Lindy, how much do you think Calvin Cedarhurst would pay to keep Bitsy from seeing that? A million? Two? Those are “bargain-basement” prices compared to what she’d get in divorce court.”
“You’re sick. What you’re doing to people is terrible.”
“What I’m doing?” This time the cruel twist of his lips couldn’t be called a smile. “All I’m doing is giving them an opportunity. They can choose to walk away.”
“You get people at their worst, weakest st
ate. Marriages on the rocks, relationships in flux. And you chip away at them with your phony classes, sexpot staff members and sly little comments.”
“The classes are very real,” he said sharply. He had the gall to look affronted. “We had to make it look legit. Most of the staff knows nothing about it. We’re a small operation. Less people to share the pie with.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugged. “Why not? No harm in it now. The two of you already knew the basics, and even if you shared it with anyone on the outside, by the time they make a move, we’ll be long gone.”
And where would she and Owen be? She stared hard at the gun. “Owen doesn’t know,” she said. “I didn’t tell him my suspicions. I wanted to see if he took the bait with Liza, and was going to confront him afterward.”
Nico tsked her and leaned forward. He pressed another button, backing up the video frame by frame until Owen flickered onto the screen, and she covered her mouth to hold in her scream. She watched with dawning horror as he palmed Liza’s water bottle and slipped it into his gym short’s pocket on his way out.
“Now then,” Nico murmured. “What do you suppose he would need that for?”
Nausea threatened to choke her, and she floundered for something—anything—to say.
“Don’t know?” he asked softly. “No matter. I think I have it worked out. I knew something was off when I saw you on the slopes. You’re not husband and wife at all, are you? Somehow, you managed to stumble on my little moneymaker and wanted to negotiate yourselves a piece. Or maybe you’ve decided to play the heroes and needed some hard evidence. The whys aren’t important. What’s important is that you know, and I can’t have that getting around. So you and I are going to go for a little ride and you’re going to hope that Owen cares enough about you to do what he has to in order to get you back alive.”
Her brain flipped into flight or fight mode. Every real crime show she’d ever seen had the same message. Don’t let an attacker take you from one location to another. If it came down to it, fight tooth and nail whether they had a weapon or not. If you didn’t, you were almost surely dead. She braced herself and shoved back her chair.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She made for the door, but he caught her by the shirt and slammed her into the wall. His hand closed over her throat, cutting off her airway before she could scream.
“Why did you go and do that? I detest violence,” he murmured, but the way his feverish gaze stayed locked on hers, she didn’t believe him. She struggled, clawing at his hands, trying to get some leverage and shove him off. Her vision blurred, and then suddenly he was gone. Sucking in a breath, she yelled as loud as she could, scrambling toward the door. “Someone, help!”
“Go, Lindy, go!” It was Cara’s voice, urging her to run.
“What the fuck?” Nico snarled. Lindy turned to see him flat on his back, with Owen’s sister standing over him in a self-defense ready position. The gun lay a few feet away.
“I’ve got this asshole, Lindy, You go wait in the hall for Owen. He was looking for you, too. He’ll have heard you yelling and will find us any minute.”
Nico seemed unmoved by her words. “What happened, Care Bear? Wanted to come see what your money bought me?” His gasped taunt hit home and Cara flinched.
“Don’t call me that, prick.”
“Aw, don’t be so mean. Maybe it didn’t work out so good for you in the end, but I did you right before that, didn’t I? Surely six months of fucking a frigid bitch is worth something.”
As he spoke, his hand inched slowly toward the gun. Lindy opened her mouth to warn Cara, but then stopped. If she did, he’d throw caution to the wind, and it would be a race between him and Cara for the weapon.
Blindly, she reached behind her for something heavy to throw that might distract him or do some damage and give Cara an edge. She’d just closed her hand over a glass paperweight when a rage-filled bellow echoed down the hall. Owen was close now, a fact Nico clearly noted as well. The urgency of the situation forced him to act, and he rolled, lunging for the gun.
“No!” Lindy screamed, lurching toward him. Cara moved like lighting, intent on kicking the gun away, but she wasn’t fast enough to fade a boot to the gut. She crumpled to the floor and Nico hopped to his feet, gun in hand, just as Owen barreled through the door.
A shot rang out, splinters exploded from the wall between them, and Lindy screamed. Nico adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger again, but this time, there was nothing but a soft click.
No more bullets.
If the situation hadn’t been so terrifying, Nico’s horrified expression would have been comical. He backed away a step, hands in the air. “What, you know each other, is that what this is about? Listen, I’m sorry. I can pay it back. That thing with her was a mistake.”
“Oh, it was a fucking mistake, all right.” Owen’s voice was liquid nitrogen, and sent a chill through the room. He didn’t slow his gait until he was an arm’s length from Nico, who took a wild swing at him. An icy grin spread over Owen’s face, and with one stunning blow to the jaw, he sent Nico flying against the wall, where he slid to the floor in a heap. Owen nudged his leg to make sure he was out cold then turned, rummaging through the desk drawers with single-minded intensity.
Lindy dropped to her knees beside Cara and took her hand. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she gasped. “Actually, never better.” Her wobbly but proud smile sent some much-needed blood pumping back to Lindy’s frozen heart. “How about you?”
Lindy nodded, “Good. I’m really good, now.”
A shadow fell over them and they both looked up. Owen was jamming two bullets into the chamber. He took the paperweight from Lindy’s limp hand and pushed the gun into it. “If he moves, shoot him.” He strode to the telephone and dialed. “I need an officer at 5301 Alpine Road right away.”
Nico stirred with a murmur but didn’t get up. Owen must have really rung his bell, she thought with satisfaction. She held the gun as steady as she could while she waited for Owen to finish the call to the police.
A moment later, gentle fingers pulled the gun from her grasp. “You did so well, ladies. I am unbearably proud of both of you. We got him,” Owen murmured and sat on the floor, wrapping an arm around each of them. Lindy moved to pull away, but couldn’t muster the strength. She might as well let him hold her since it would be the last time. The shock faded and sounds of footsteps pounded down the hallway.
“What’s going on here? Was that a gunshot?” Sarabeth stood in the doorway, flanked by Jordan and Marty and dressed in cocktail attire.
Lindy pushed away from Owen and stood on her own two feet. They had some explaining to do.
Chapter Nineteen
Sarabeth stood in front of the monitors shaking her head. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “These people I’ve been trying to help…”
Lindy rubbed her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. How could you have known?”
“What about you?”
Lindy had been so focused on poor Sarabeth, she hadn’t even thought of Jordan and Marty. But now, the other woman stared at her husband accusingly.
“You went to a me-time meditation session. And a massage.”
She reached for the Play button and Owen made a grab for her, catching her wrist. “Don’t do it. No good can come of this. They cut them to make them look bad, and—”
She jerked her arm away, stilling him with icy look. “I will watch that clip, Owen—or whoever you are—and if I were you, I wouldn’t try to stop me.”
Owen flicked a glance to Marty who stood in the doorway. “It doesn’t matter. Let her see it,” he said, his face grim.
Owen backed away, and Jordan clicked the mouse. Lindy closed her eyes, wishing she was anywhere but there. The audio kicked in and a husky timbre filled the room. Brandi with an i? “A man of your stature needs to blow off some steam. When you leave here, you’ll be so relaxed, your legs will feel like jelly. Let me
do that for you, won’t you Marty?”
“That would be great.”
Jordan blanched, her face going bone white. She reached for the mouse.
“Leave it.” Marty’s voice cracked across the room like a shot, and Jordan froze.
“Wait. I-I thought you meant a deep tissue massage.” Blankets rustled. “I can’t do this, although I apprec—”
The recording stopped, and the room went silent. Lindy opened her eyes to see a shell-shocked Jordan walking toward Marty. Her eyes pooled with unshed tears. “Y-you didn’t do it?” she whispered.
Marty drew back as if she’d slapped him. “Jesus, of course not.”
“Why not?”
He set his glasses higher up on his nose. “Because I’m a married man.”
“I appreciate your restraint.” She gave him a watery smile and patted his cheek, but there was a hint of resignation and despair in her eyes.
Marty stood tall and seemed to muster his courage before adding, “And because I love my wife.” He grabbed her hand to press it to his lips. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d make it a little easier to do once in a while.”
“It’s no secret my father bribed you with the partnership. The family never fails to remind me that we wouldn’t even be married if it wasn’t for that.”
He gave a helpless shrug. “That may be how they see it, but they’re wrong. I have all the experience necessary to start my own successful practice now. I don’t need your father anymore.” He cupped her chin with a gentle hand. “But I still need you.”
“You actually love me?” The longing on his wife’s face was so raw, Lindy looked away.
“Always have.”
The tears flowed freely down Jordan’s face now, and Lindy swallowed the lump wedged in her throat. Who would have thought she would end up envying the two of them?
“I’m thrilled for you guys, I really am,” Cara said softly, “but I watch a lot of CSI and we’re going to get in big trouble for tampering with evidence, so can we clear out this room before the cops show up?”
…
By the time the police left, Lindy was a walking zombie. They’d been there for hours, repeating their story over and over while the techs logged evidence and shuffled in and out marking baggies. Liza and Nico had been arrested while Brandi, Marcel, and several other staff members were brought to the station for questioning. Apparently, it wasn’t only men who cheated at The Healing Place. After Marty and Jordan had talked, she also agreed to give a statement about how Nico had been overly physical with her and admitted that she’d been concerned for some time now that something was amiss.
Once all the statements were taken, the rest of the staff and guests were released but asked not to leave town for a few days until everything was straightened out. Poor Sarabeth was inconsolable. Lindy didn’t get a chance to talk to her much because they had sent the guests and staff to various hotels after sealing off the building. In her exhaustion, she’d followed Owen’s lead. It wasn’t until four in the morning, when they stepped over the threshold of their room adjoining Cara’s, that she re-evaluated her sleeping arrangements.
“You should go stay with your sister,” she said, not meeting his eyes.
“Do we need to do this right now?” He tugged her toward him, breathing a long sigh into her hair. “She’s fine, actually, better than I’ve seen her in a long time. It’s been a hell of a night for all of us. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and forget all the ugliness for a while. Can’t we do that? I promise we’ll talk when we wake up.”
She tried to muster up the fight but came up empty. The need to close her eyes was unbearable and she nodded. Tomorrow was another day. He pulled her toward the bed, shoved back the blankets and helped her in. She didn’t wait for him to join her before drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
…
“Go Lindy, go!”
He could hear Cara’s screams from the other side of the house, but knew in his gut Lindy wasn’t going. Dread clutched at his heart as he plowed through the door. She turned, wild-eyed, to face him, paperweight in hand, ready to take Nico on, her own safety an afterthought if it was a thought at all.
Crack!
A shot. A crimson stain spreading over the front of her shirt.
Owen jerked awake, his body drenched with sweat. His heart galloped in his chest as he flipped on the bedside lamp. A glance at the clock told him what he already knew. Two a.m. Same bat-dream, same bat-time, same bat-channel. Whoever said people didn’t dream in color could piss off. The red—all that fucking red—haunted him. Running a hand through his damp hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared blindly out the window.
It had been one week since he’d been back. One week since his sister had been kicked in the stomach by the man who once professed to love her. One week since he’d seen Nico Stephanopoulos with a gun pointed at Lindy. And one week since he’d woken up in their hotel room alone. He was no closer to getting over it than the day it happened and he relived the nightmare of what could’ve been every time he closed his eyes. The need to punish Stephanopoulos set his blood boiling. Like Cara had reminded him, it was in the hands of the DA now, and all they could do was wait.
Wife for Hire Page 13
