Playing to Win

by Shelley Munro

  “I have to drop in to see Caryn and afterward I have a training session. Jamie could watch if he wanted.”

  “What do you think, Jamie?” Kate asked.

  Jamie remained silent for a time then without warning he grinned, looking so much like Lane, Kate’s heart pounded. “I’d watch the Blues train?”

  Lane nodded.

  His young face flushed with excitement and he leapt about like a playful puppy. “Kate! The Blues! The twins will be so jealous.” He barely paused for a breath. “When can we go?”

  Lane smiled broadly. “We need to collect Ratty from my neighbor. Once he’s fed and settled, we can go. Training finishes at one,” he said. “Kate, can we contact you between clients if we’re delayed for some reason?”

  “I have an appointment at one-thirty and another at three. I’m free from four to five. I should finish around six. It will be easier if I meet you back here.”

  “Don’t you want help with the cleaning?”

  “Most of it’s done. You can have the day off,” Kate said.

  There was a quick exodus, neither Lane nor Jamie giving her a chance to change her mind. As for Kate, she couldn’t believe Jamie, willingly going off with Lane after his behavior of mere days ago. The thought of Jamie beginning to trust Lane pleased her.

  Maybe Lane’s scenario of a family might work. She played with the suggestion and decided as ideas went, it wasn’t such a bad one. Hope rose within her as she cautiously imagined a family—her, Lane and Jamie.

  The thought made her smile.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lane glanced over at Jamie buckled in the passenger seat and wondered what a kid liked to talk about these days. The quick trip out for paint hadn’t been so bad, but this time they were spending most of the day together—alone. What the hell did he talk to his nephews about? Not the weather, which was the only subject that came to mind now. Hell, a sad fact, but at this moment, he’d prefer to talk at the Halberg Sports Awards in front of thousands of people rather than face Jamie.

  Nerves made his polo shirt cling damply to his back and his hands clenched the steering wheel like a lifeline as he headed for the meeting with Caryn. His mouth firmed. A big, tough rugby player could do anything. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, praying something sensible would spill forth, but Jamie beat him to it.

  “You play on the wing,” he said.

  “Yes.” Galling. Nine-year-old Jamie wasn’t having problems with his nerves.

  “I play center. We wear boots now,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly.

  Lane recalled the younger teams didn’t play in footwear but in bare feet. “Do you kick goals?”

  “I’m not very good at kicking goals. Hayden is good. He’s our flanker. He hardly ever misses.”

  “I can’t kick goals either,” Lane said.

  “Yeah, but you’re fast!” Jamie said with enthusiasm, his head nodding in confirmation. “I wish I could run as fast as you.”

  Lane pulled up outside Caryn’s office block. “I’m sure you’re fast.”

  “Kate said she thought you were my father because we look alike.”

  The lump in Lane’s throat grew to epic proportions and his reply barely squeaked past. “Yeah,” he said.

  Not much as replies went, but Lane didn’t mind admitting he was in trouble here. He was fairly sure too. Down in Taupo, he’d talked to his brother. They’d worked out neither John nor Will had been in Auckland at the relevant time. Will had been in London on his big overseas experience while newly married John and Sabrina had been setting up house in Wellington. That made him the only possible candidate.

  “I look like Charlie and Alex.” Jamie met Lane’s gaze full-on without flinching. “I don’t mind you being my father,” he said, “but when I heard the reporters say you would take me away from Kate, I got scared.”

  “They shouldn’t have said those things. I would never take you away from Kate. I swear.” Lane lifted his right hand to cover his heart.

  Jamie frowned, but his face held no other signs of distress or disbelief. “I felt bad when my mother died. I thought you wouldn’t let me live with Kate because she’s not my real mother.”

  Lane forgot his fears in his need to reassure Jamie. “Kate is your real mother now.”

  “So I can stay with Kate even if you’re my father.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Jamie said. “It was dark in the tree house and cold.”

  Lane blinked at the lightning-quick direction change of Jamie’s thoughts. He smiled. “Yes, I’d say it would be dark in the tree house. We’re here. Ready to go?”

  Lane entered Caryn’s office suite and poked his head around a second door to see if Caryn’s assistant and his neighbor Maddie could keep an eye on Jamie.

  “Hi, Lane!” The stunning redhead beamed until she saw Jamie. The dazzling smile faded, replaced by a slight frown.

  Lane approached and dropped into one of the black leather chairs facing her desk. “This is Jamie,” Lane said, indicating with a jerk of his head Jamie should sit as well. “Could he stay with you while I have a quick word with Caryn?”

  Maddie’s eyes widened as she surveyed Jamie, her eyebrows shooting north. “You really do have a son. I thought—”

  “What?” Lane interrupted in a hard voice. For the first time he noted the avid hunger in her eyes and discomfort hit. He liked Maddie but not in a romantic way. Not after meeting Kate. “Maddie took care of Ratty for you while we were in Taupo,” Lane told Jamie, trying to allay his unease. He hoped Jamie didn’t notice the expression on Maddie’s face. And hopefully she had enough sense not to repeat any gossip she’d heard in front of Jamie. He’d never forgive her if she upset his son.

  “Thank you for looking after Ratty,” Jamie said politely. “We collected him this morning. Can I look at the fish?” he asked, referring to a large tank of tropical fish over on the far side of the office.

  “Looking after Ratty was no problem,” Maddie said with a shrug. “Sure, go ahead.” As Jamie raced across the office, she lowered her voice and leaned across the desk, giving Lane a good view of her twin assets. “I’d hoped I’d see you when you collected the kid’s pet. You know you can count on me anytime, Lane. Any favor.”

  Her soft, breathy voice left Lane with no illusions, subtlety now fully in the past as far as Maddie was concerned. He shot a glance in Jamie’s direction. Hopefully Jamie hadn’t heard the blatant proposition. No, at least he’d been spared that complication.

  Lane jumped to his feet, uncharacteristically flustered. He needed to get out of here. “Caryn is waiting for me. Won’t be long, Jamie.”

  Maddie stood and sashayed around the glass-topped desk until she stood inches from him, standing so close he could feel the warmth emanating from her skin, smell her musky perfume. She placed a soft hand on his forearm. “You won’t forget, will you? Anytime, Lane.”

  “I don’t think so,” Lane said in a strangled voice, and he edged away from her. He darted another look at Jamie who had turned from the fish tank to watch the whole scene with wide gray eyes. What would he do if Jamie mentioned this farce to Kate? How would he explain this to her?

  He didn’t breathe easy until solid wood stood between him and Maddie. Once clear, he leaned against the door dragging huge cleansing drafts of air into his lungs to wash away the intense, heavy scent of her perfume. Relieved to have escaped, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and wondered in dismay why he hadn’t seen the signs.

  Muffled laughter alerted him to the presence of another person. His head jerked up and he grinned sheepishly at Eva, the receptionist.

  Eva nodded, a knowing expression on her carefully made-up face. “You seem shell-shocked. Maddie confessed, did she?”

  “I swear I didn’t know!”

  “She’s not the only one around here,” said Eva sagely. “All the girls are crazy about you.”

  The thought had Lane reeling. Why now? Six months to a year ago, he might have taken
Maddie up on her offer. Hell, he was no saint. Maddie looked stunning and had a great personality. In the past he might have returned the interest. Not now though. The only woman he wanted was Kate. She set his blood aflame.

  Just thinking about her his body reacted with a hot wave of heat and he instantly dredged up thoughts of training. Training on a cold, wet winter’s night followed by cold showers because his teammates had used all the water. He’d had more than enough embarrassment for one morning.

  A muscle twitched in his cheek as he tapped on Caryn’s door and entered. Uneasily, he wondered if it was wise to leave Jamie with Maddie. No, he decided. Maddie wouldn’t do anything to hurt Jamie. He did trust her, and the meeting with Caryn wouldn’t take long since he had training this morning.

  * * * * *

  Kate grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch between appointments and gulped down a cup of herbal tea before her three o’clock appointment.

  At exactly one minute to three, the doorbell chimed. Kate pulled open the door.

  “Caryn,” she said in surprise. “Did you want to make an appointment?” She ushered Caryn through to her office. “I’m afraid I can’t see you now. My next client is due any minute.”

  “I have an appointment,” Caryn said, her voice wooden and distant. “My…sister made it for me. She probably gave you my first name. Genevieve.”

  “Genevieve Weston. Oh, you are my three o’clock appointment then,” Kate said, cocking her head to study the still woman standing a few feet from her.

  “It’s Lucas, not Weston. My sister is elderly. She gets confused.”

  “You don’t look like a Genevieve,” Kate said with a small laugh. She opened The Sanctuary door and stepped inside. “I suppose that’s why you use Caryn.” She stopped and turned back to the silent woman. “Are you all right? You seem a little tense. Bad day at work?”

  Caryn shrugged irritably out of her coat. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “Let’s get on with this.”

  Kate stared. Definitely a bad day. Each time she’d met Caryn, she’d appeared bubbly and cheerful despite the demands of her job. Kate turned aside. Everyone was entitled to a bad day. A massage was just the thing to improve her frame of mind.

  Kate pasted on a professional smile and indicated her work couch with a wave of her hand. She handed Caryn a thin cotton robe. “Here’s a robe for you to put on once you’ve slipped off your clothes. Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I won’t be a minute.”

  Caryn stood stock-still as though she hadn’t heard.

  “Let me take your coat.” Kate reached to take the coat, but Caryn wrenched it from her grasp.

  “No, leave it.” Caryn hugged the coat to her chest. “I’ll lay it on the chair.”

  “All right,” Kate said, bewildered by the woman’s bizarre behavior.

  Kate collected her trolley from the storage cupboard in the office. It was fully loaded with a supply of clean towels and aromatherapy products, everything she required for Caryn’s treatments. As usual, she did a quick visual recheck and propelled the trolley through the door to the treatment room. She looked up expecting to see Caryn waiting.

  Caryn wasn’t on the couch.

  “Caryn?” Kate peered into her inner sanctum. “Caryn?” Puzzled, Kate stepped inside and turned, intending to shut the door.

  The door bounced toward her, hitting the side of her head. A dull thud echoed. Something thumped her in the stomach. Kate crumpled, landing stunned on the floor. An extravaganza of flickering red and orange stars flashed against her eyelids. The tinkle of breaking glass sounded in the background. Harsh gasps filled the air. Kate belatedly realized the sound came from her. Breathe. She sucked hard, a wheezy gasp to replace the air smacked from her body. Her eyes flickered open.

  Buttercup-colored towels littered the floor about her. She pushed to a sitting position, wincing when something sharp bit into her palm. Glass. Kate swiveled about to see shards of glass littering the floor. Massage oils dripped from the broken bottles, creating fragrant puddles on the tiles.

  Kate tried to stand. Stars exploded like skyrockets inside her head. She groaned and pressed her palm against her abdomen as nausea tap-danced in her stomach. Trembling fingers investigated the lump on her temple. She flinched, cradling her skull between her hands in an effort to halt the crashing drums inside her head.

  “Get up, bitch.”

  Kate raised her eyes, from the two elegantly boot-shod feet, up the smart beige trousers tucked into the boots to a gloating face.

  The leather-shod feet kicked out in rapid succession, landing a brutal blow on her ribs. “Get up.”

  White-hot daggers shot through her body. Kate’s vision blurred.

  “Move.”

  Two sharp, well-aimed kicks connected with her ribs and upper thigh. Kate recoiled with a weak moan.

  “Now. Or you’ll be sorry.”

  The harsh, uncompromising tone penetrated Kate’s agony. She struggled to her feet, her legs wobbling but finally she stood, swaying unsteadily.

  Brisk and businesslike, Caryn faced Kate, a lethal knife in her right hand. She tossed it nonchalantly from hand to hand. Kate stared, mesmerized by the flash of the silver blade.

  “Caryn?” Kate’s voice emerged in a scared croak.

  The unadulterated hate blazing in Caryn’s eyes terrified her, but when she focused on the gleaming metal blade of the knife, her fear rocketed.

  “Move!” Caryn snapped, her eyes shining with fiery fanaticism. When Kate didn’t move fast enough, Caryn lunged at her, slashing the air with her knife.

  Kate felt the sharp slice on the fleshy part of her upper arm.

  Blood.

  Her blood.

  Bright and glossy red, it seeped from the gash.

  Kate edged back, watching the glittering blade of the knife with fear as Caryn swung it in a threatening arc. Her gaze veered to the door, and the other woman cackled.

  “You won’t make it,” she taunted, a dare glowing in her feverish face. “I’m in control now.”

  Kate had to try. She had to. She lurched toward the door, panting in her terrified haste. The pain in her head intensified, crippling her, making her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. She slowed and Caryn’s hand closed with bruising intensity on her upper arm just below the throbbing cut.

  “You can’t escape me. Sit!” Caryn barked.

  Kate staggered to the chair she indicated. Caryn’s raspy excited breathing hustled her along. The woman was savoring her pain. Kate’s stomach roiled as she subsided onto the chrome and wood chair.

  Caryn was insane.

  The cut on her arm stung. Kate glanced down to assess the damage. Splotches of blood covered her shirtsleeve, but it looked as though the bleeding had slowed.

  Caryn stayed out of Kate’s range of sight. Suddenly, her arms were jerked painfully behind her. She cried out, unable to bite the sound back. A length of yellow rope flashed into her peripheral vision. Seconds later Caryn bound her wrists, viciously tightening the rope until her arms screamed in protest and the tender skin at her wrists burned.

  Immobilized. Kate’s heart thudded. Fear sent cold chills through her body.

  A hand flashed before her, delicate and well tended and certainly not in need of her services. A laugh bubbled at the back of Kate’s throat but Caryn slapped a length of black gaffer tape over her mouth, sealing in her hysteria. Terse silence settled, broken only by her labored gasps for air.

  When Caryn moved in front of the chair, Kate barely recognized her. The woman looked like a fugitive, a crazed stranger with glittering eyes and sneering lips, and a body held taut in suppressed excitement.

  “You and I are going to talk.” Caryn watched Kate through narrowed eyes, openly gloating at each small cringe or wince of pain.

  Kate stared back at the stark, raving madwoman.

  Why was she doing this?

  Caryn read her with frightening ease. “You want to know why? Don’t you?” She spat in her fury. “I’ll tell you,
but first I’m going to cancel your appointments for the day. We don’t want anyone joining our party uninvited. Do we?” She pushed her scornful face up close to Kate’s. A cloud of Chanel No. 5 clogged Kate’s nostrils.

  “Where’s your appointment book?” Her knife glinted in the light. One look at the intimidating weapon and Kate’s uncooperative intentions fled.

  Despite the gag, Caryn must have understood Kate’s panicked babbling. She stepped out to the outer room and returned with a black, leather-bound appointment book. She smiled in triumph and closed the door behind her. “Sit quietly while I go to work. Which one will I chose? Enee, meenee, mynee, moe,” she chanted in a singsong warble.

  Apprehension trickled down Kate’s spine while she listened to Caryn cancel her remaining appointments. This Caryn sounded professional and confident. Calm. It was as if two separate people lived within the same body. The carefree, bubbly and successful businesswoman Kate had met and another unpredictable, maniacal Caryn who changed her moods as often as a runway model changed clothes.

  Good versus evil.

  The chilling thought raced through her and Kate knew without a doubt Caryn was capable of murder.

  Her murder.

  Caryn replaced the phone with a click and glared, metamorphosing into the evil twin. “That was almost too easy. Poor suckers have no idea.”

  She pulled another chair next to Kate and sat, leaning forward in a confiding manner. “Didn’t you recognize me the other day?” She chuckled in a derisive manner. “No? I didn’t think so,” Caryn said smug with satisfaction. “I know more than you about makeup. Disguises.” She howled with laughter while Kate watched helpless to escape her ties. “I would like to make an appointment for my sister. She suffers from repetitive strain in her wrist.” She spoke in the faltering voice of an elderly woman.

  She leaned back in her chair, raised her knife and casually proceeded to clean her fingernails. Taking her time, she dug minute specks of dirt from behind her copper-colored nails. Finally, she held her hand up to study the result. With a murmur of satisfaction, she switched the knife to the other hand and repeated the exercise.