“I do, Sam.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road. Les and a few of the guys from school should have the furniture in the house by the time we get there. We can unpack the boxes anytime. Let’s go to the Garden State Art Center tonight. We can hear the concert on the lawn, and we can take the dogs with us.”
“If I go, will you help me with the orders? We’re two weeks behind, Sam.”
Sam grinned. He liked that we business. It meant they were a unit, a couple. She was finally letting him into her real life. “Les and the guys are going to help when they finish unloading the furniture. I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since that . . . you know.”
“That we made love and a week later I signed off on the program? It seems like yesterday.” Helen laughed. “I still can’t believe I modeled that bustier for you.”
“I can believe it.” Sam leered. “Okay, let’s go! Next stop, our new rental two-bedroom, two-bath house, complete with eat-in kitchen and wood-burning fireplace and fenced-in yard for our two adorable pets.” “You sound like a real-estate agent. I’m ready.” Helen grinned as she climbed into the front seat next to Sam. She couldn’t remember ever being this happy. Never, ever. She offered up a prayer that nothing would go wrong.
“Metuchen, here we come!”
“Do you know the town, Sam?”
“A little. It’s nice. Lots of trees on the streets. Nice shopping. They have their own library and police station. You can walk to everything if you need to. It’s close to Roosevelt Park. We can take the dogs for runs there. They ice-skate on the pond in the winter. They sleigh ride, too. There’s a mall at the top of the hill. We’re just a spit from Route 1 and Highway 27. I can drive to school in ten minutes. It’s close to your shop. Ten minutes tops in driving time for you. There’s a good vet you can take Lucie to, now that Dr. Lo has shut down his practice. I think we’re both going to like it.”
“I think I’ve been blessed, Sam. The orders are coming in so fast they boggle my mind. Yesterday I had to ask my supplier for an extra delivery. And then there’s you. In my life, I’ve never been this happy. I just wanted you to know that, Sam.”
“Me too,” Sam said, reaching for her hand. “Me too.”
Isabel Tyger walked slowly, the pronged cane slightly ahead of her as she matched her steps to the thud of the heavy cane. There was a murderous look in her eyes that matched the menacing clouds outdoors. Heavy rain slashed against the windows of the sunroom to a frenzied beat that set her teeth on edge. In her hand was a manila folder that had just been hand-delivered.
“You are doing remarkably well, Miss Tyger. I never would have believed it was possible. Another week or so, and you won’t need the walker at all. And you certainly won’t need me. I feel guilty taking your money as it is,” Maggie Eldridge said, setting aside the paper she’d been reading.
“Do you now?” Isabel snapped, her mind on the contents of the folder in her lap. “What is it about me that makes you feel guilty, Maggie?”
“You’re doing so well. You can shower by yourself. You take your own medicine. You eat what your cook prepares. You’re an excellent chess player, and you’ve beaten me each time we play. I’m just here to make sure nothing goes awry. I’m used to working for my money. This is a vacation for me compared to other cases I’ve been on. And all that free time you give me is so generous of you. As I say, this is almost as good as a vacation. Do you feel all right, Miss Tyger? You look . . . angry.”
Isabel looked across the sunroom at the young nurse. Her eyes were so very blue and so incredibly guileless. Isabel shifted in her chair. “The truth is,” she said, whacking the envelope against her leg, “I’m very angry. Do you know what I have here in my hand?”
Maggie giggled. “Now, Miss Tyger, how could I possibly know what’s in that envelope? It was just delivered. I saw the messenger coming up the walk a little while ago.”
“What about all the other envelopes that were delivered the past two and a half weeks? And what about the envelopes that were delivered to me while I was in the hospital?”
“I don’t understand. Are you asking me a question, or are you trying to tell me something?” Isabel noted that some of the sparkle seemed to leave the nurse’s eyes and voice at the question.
“Both,” Isabel retorted.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” The guileless eyes were now wary and suspicious.
“Let me spin a little story for you. When I’m finished, you tell me if I’m right or not.”
“All right,” Maggie said, the color leaving her face. Round spots of rouge stood out starkly.
“When I fell and broke my hip, the event made the local newspapers as well as the local television news. When you were hired by a friend of mine to do private duty for me, your picture was also in the local papers. Some photographer snapped you walking into the hospital. I would imagine shortly after that your new boyfriend came into the picture. It was probably a chance meeting in the lobby or one of the local restaurants.”
“Actually, Miss Tyger, I met Donald at the laundromat. We were both trying to get the last dryer. I won.”
“He was handsome,” Isabel went on. “Very cavalier. He invited you to a movie or dinner and you accepted. You told him what you did for a living, and he told you what he wanted you to know. The truth is, you don’t know anything about the man you’ve been seeing. Since you’ve been here, the information you took out of my home was meant for your eyes only. For want of a better word, I set a trap for you. You see, I know what you’ve been doing since the first day we got home. I saw you going through my study the first night I gave you off.”
“Miss Tyger, what are you saying? More to the point, what are you accusing me of? Why are you so interested in my boyfriend? Why are you prying into my personal life? That wasn’t part of my job description.”
Isabel knew she was on to something by the nurse’s jittery tone of voice.
“Nor is spying part of your job description. What were you doing in my study?”
“Looking for a book,” Maggie said feebly.
“Bullshit!” Isabel said succinctly. “I’m going to ask you one question, and, for your sake, I hope you have the good sense to tell me the truth. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to prosecute you,” she lied. “You’ll lose your nursing license. You’re a good nurse, Maggie. I’d hate to see that happen to you.”
“What . . . what’s the question?”
“Ladies, ladies, ladies, why so serious? The two of you look like you lost your last friend,” Arthur King boomed as he strode into the sunroom, his golf umbrella dripping all over the carpet.
“In a manner of speaking, we have. Maggie was just about to answer a question for me. Pour yourself some coffee, Artie. Now, Maggie, while I was under your care in the hospital, did you read the e-mails and photocopy them to give to your boyfriend, Donald McDermott?”
Arthur King choked on the coffee he was drinking. He grappled for a pile of napkins on the serving cart, his eyes on the young nurse and what she was about to say.
“Yes.”
“I can’t hear you, Maggie. Speak louder.”
“Yes,” the nurse said miserably.
“For God’s sake, why?” Artie demanded.
“He asked me to. I . . . I wanted to please him. They were just chatty letters, there was nothing serious in them. I even read them. I couldn’t imagine what he wanted to do with them.”
“What did he tell you he was going to do with them?” Artie asked coldly.
“He said . . . what he said . . . was, he wanted the e-mail addresses so he could send out advertisements on the net. I know it wasn’t right, but he said it was cheaper for him than it was to buy a list of names. I’m sorry I did it I knew it was wrong when I did it. I don’t have any excuse, and if you want to fire me, I deserve it. I would like to ask some questions,” she said, bravely meeting Isabel’s eyes. “Why would you hire a detective to spy on me or on Donald? Does this have somethin
g to do with industrial espionage? Is someone trying to steal your toy designs?”
“No, Maggie. Your boyfriend is trying to steal someone’s life.”
“Donald? Trying to steal someone’s life? That doesn’t make sense. How can you steal someone’s life?” Maggie sputtered.
Isabel sighed. “I’ll leave it to you, Artie, to explain the situation. I need to go on the computer. Where’s your boyfriend right now, Maggie?”
“I think he’s home, getting ready to go on a business trip. Are you going to have him arrested? What’s going on?”
“Tell her, Artie,” Isabel said as she made her way across the room. “Tell her Donald McDermott’s real name and keep her here until I get back.”
In her study, Isabel sat down with a thump. She felt dizzy and faint at the nurse’s betrayal. The whole program was compromised now. Wizard that he was, Daniel Ward could find out anything he wanted to know by using the e-mails and his computer skills. And there was nothing she could do to him. Nothing she could prove. Bastard that he was, he probably had something set up whereby he would pretend to do what he’d told Maggie, sell on-line names and addresses. It was done all the time. Daniel knew it, and so did she.
“This is all my fault,” Isabel mumbled. “Why did I insist Mona bring me the e-mails, the records from the shelters? Because,” she answered herself, “you have to have your damn fingers in everything. You think you’re the only one who can do things right. Now you can see what that attitude and that kind of thinking has gotten you.”
The computer came to life. Isabel shifted her weight in the chair as she waited for the e-mail screen to come to life. She typed in the address for the Sassie Lassie web page and waited for the revolving envelope so she could send off an e-mail to Helen.
Would Daniel Ward’s prying eyes see this e-mail? Possibly. Still, somehow, she had to warn Helen. She wrote: “I’d like to order both versions of your TTLS and TTLS2. It is imperative that you call me as soon as you receive this message as these are special-order gifts. My number is ...”
The walk down the hall to the sunroom seemed to take Isabel forever. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the young nurse in tears.
“Are you crying for what you’ve done, or are you crying because that jackass you thought was so wonderful is who we said he is?” Isabel snapped.
“I showed her the company picture we had taken the last year Daniel was with us,” Artie said.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Isabel snapped again.
“I’m sorry. I’m truly, truly sorry.”
“That’s not going to get any of us anywhere. How did you leave it with him? What are you supposed to do next?”
“I usually call him at lunchtime. If he’s free for the evening, and I can get off, we meet somewhere for dinner or a movie. Sometimes we go back to his apartment. If . . . if there’s anything, you know, special, he wants me to do, he usually tells me at night. For the most part he just says for me to keep my eyes open and to go through your mail. He . . . he got very angry when I couldn’t get your password to open the computer. He wanted me to give you some medication and ask you for your password while you were medicated. I refused. I can’t believe this is the same person. He was kind, caring, gentle. Yes, he gets angry sometimes, but then so do I. You get angry, Miss Tyger. Everyone gets angry at some point.”
“There are different kinds of anger, Maggie. Daniel Ward’s anger almost killed someone. The same thing could have happened to you, but it didn’t. Thank God you had the good sense not to medicate me,” Isabel said. Artie winced at her tone.
“Are you going to call the police?” Maggie asked fearfully.
“I don’t know. What I do know is you aren’t going anywhere for the time being. You’re going to stay right here under my nose. Artie, call the detective and tell him to come over here and baby-sit this young woman.”
“You’re keeping me here against my will! That’s illegal,” the nurse sputtered, her eyes full of anger.
“Would you rather I call the police and the hospital, a hospital I endow rather handsomely? The police commissioner is a friend of mine. The choice is up to you.”
“I’ll stay.”
“I thought you’d see it my way. I want you to change out of that nurse’s uniform. It offends me. Personally, I don’t think you deserve to wear it. Go upstairs with her, Artie. Disconnect the phone in her room and make sure she doesn’t have a cell phone.”
Artie nodded. “By the way, some of my best people are on their way over here to check out your computer. We’ll have the latest system in by the end of the day. He won’t be able to tap it.”
“What about . . . ?”
“It’s in the works. Move, young lady!” Artie said in his best G-man voice.
Helen tidied up her work area, stacking everything neatly. She looked around. It felt so good, so wonderful finally to be on her own. She missed the dogs, though. She missed Sam even more. He’d called her three times. Maybe it was four times. She smiled at the thought. Tonight they were going to make spaghetti. Together. Sam had promised to make his famous garlic bread. What that meant was he was going to stop at Shop Rite and buy a frozen loaf of bread and doctor it up. He tried. That was the important thing.
Helen took one last look at the showcases to make sure the lingerie looked fresh and pretty for morning. The glass gleamed from Windex, usually the last thing she did before leaving. Today she’d only had six customers in the shop, but they had bought a total of $720 worth of merchandise. The Internet orders were quadruple those of the store. One last check for orders, and she could leave. She tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for her web page to soar to the full screen. It took another minute for her to scroll down the order-form page. She read the e-mail attached to the order form three times before she started to shake. She was reading it for the fourth time as she dialed the number on the e-mail. Something was wrong. Her breathing turned ragged-sounding as she waited for the voice on the other end of the wire.
“Hello.”
“This is Sassie Lassie calling about your order,” Helen managed to gasp.
“I’ve been expecting your call,” Isabel said.
“Is this Boots?”
“Yes, I’m Boots. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Helen listened, her face turning as white as the snowy undergarments in the showcase. She sat down on the stool behind the counter when her legs refused to hold her weight.
“I’m sorry this happened, TTLS.”
“Damn it, Boots, call me by my name. My name makes it real. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to move. We can have things operational for you by tomorrow. I want to know you’re safe. This is my fault, and I take full responsibility.”
“It’s not your fault. I told you, one way or another, Daniel would find me. I’ll handle it, Boots. I’m not moving again. I like where I am. The dogs have a yard to run in. The house is nice. I love Sam. I have a small business. I’m not giving it up. I have a life now for the first time ever. I refuse to give it up.”
“He could snuff out your life. Or Sam’s life. Is that what you want? You need to give some thought to that yard where TTLS2 runs.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Helen screamed. “I’m getting a gun. I’ll protect myself. Your people turned me into a crack shot.”
“Your husband is getting ready to leave on a business trip. Since he doesn’t have meaningful employment, one has to wonder where he’s going. We’re watching him from this end, and we have a private detective on the case. I want you to stay alert. I don’t want anything to happen to you or . . . those close to you.”
“I refuse to listen to any more of this. I appreciate your concern. I have to get on with my life the best way I can. You take care of yourself, Boots. Stop worrying about me and get well. Perhaps we’ll talk another time. By the way, did the foundation ever okay that personal meeting?”
“No. They thought it was too risky. I
was looking forward to it myself.”
“I was, too, Boots. Maybe when this is all over . . . It won’t be over, will it?”
“No. Promise me you’ll be careful and that you’ll stay alert.”
“I promise.”
Tears flooded Helen’s eyes as she hung up the phone and turned off the computer. How was she going to tell all this to Sam? Maybe she shouldn’t tell him at all. But if she didn’t tell him, his life might be placed in danger. He needed to be careful and alert, too. How long would he be able to handle living like this before it got to him?
Helen squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. She knew in that one split second of time that she was capable of killing. If she had to, she would kill to protect what she was building for herself. The first thing she was going to do in the morning was apply for a permit to purchase a gun.
Using what name? An inner voice queried. Helen Ward? If she did that, she might as well send Daniel a road map to her house. The Nancy Baker name wouldn’t hold up. Nor could she withstand a background check. Helen felt a tremendous surge of relief when she realized she wouldn’t be getting a gun after all. Guns killed people. No, that was wrong. The National Rifle Association said people killed people.
“I’ll just have to kill you with my bare hands, Daniel, if it comes down to that. I have enough hate in me to do it, too.”
The declaration left her feeling wobbly and light-headed. Time to go home to Sam. Sam would make her feel better. She could hold Lucie all night if she wanted to. Tomorrow she would bring both dogs to the store. They could play in the small storage room, and she would walk them every hour or so. There was no way she was letting Lucie out of her sight.
“I hate you, Daniel Ward! I hate you with every bone in my body.”
“How long are you going to keep me here, Miss Tyger?” Maggie Eldridge asked.
“You are free to leave anytime you want.”
What You Wish For Page 16
