“Yes, she is special.” Camilla took a strawberry and said, “I’ve had some difficult times in my own life. I have to say that in almost every circumstance, sugar really did help to make things better.”
Sam took a strawberry, too, and they toasted across the tray.
• • •
AT THE END of the evening, we were installed in the living room, lazily changing channels and trying to focus on something. Camilla told Sam that he should stay over. “Stay in a guest room, stay with Lena, whatever you like. I’m no prude, and I want you to be here with us for a time. I’m sure the reporters are swarming your house despite Doug’s barricade, and if they don’t know you’re here they might leave us alone temporarily.”
Sam inclined his head. “Thanks, Camilla. It will be a relief not to go to that empty house tonight, much as I enjoy it most of the time.”
I touched his hand, then gathered our empty coffee cups and brought them into the kitchen, where I soaked up the view through the wide window, as I always did. Blue Lake on this cold winter night was perhaps more peaceful than I had ever seen it—or perhaps the peaceful feeling came from within.
The phone rang, and Camilla called, “Oh, Lena, that’s Doug—he said he would check in once more this evening. Would you get it?”
“Sure,” I said, and picked up Camilla’s landline. “Hello?”
There was a short silence, during which I assumed Doug was breaking away from a conversation or gathering his notes. Instead I heard a tentative female voice—a lovely, cultured voice. “Hello—is that Lena?”
I stumbled through my answer, staring hard at the stars above Blue Lake, and then I ran to the door of the room where Sam sat, looking peaceful and domestic, chatting with Camilla.
“Sam,” I said, and his face grew solemn at the sound of my voice. “It’s her,” I said.
21
They left the police station and wandered into the street, which glittered with soft yellow light under a dark blue sky. “What happens now?” asked Margot. Joe took her hand. “What would you like to happen now?”
—From Death on the Danube
WE LEARNED MOST of it later from Sam. Victoria cried through much of the phone call, expressing her vast regret, not only for what happened to Sam in her absence, but about how naïve she had been to fall for Nikon Lazos, a man who had seemed like a dream lover but who had become oppressive and controlling soon after she sailed away with him. She barely even noticed, in her initial euphoria, that her cell phone had disappeared. They were in love and spending a great deal of time in their bed, and when they weren’t doing that they were out and about, touring islands, sharing romantic dinners, making plans for the future.
Perhaps a month after they ran off together, she asked what had become of the red phone—he had lent her this in New York, telling her to contact him on it exclusively. Victoria’s own phone was left behind, which was why they couldn’t track her on it. Nikon told her that they would be unable to get reception out on the water, so the red phone would be useless to her. From that point on she really had no access to the outside world. For the most part, this didn’t even bother her. She’d worked hard in New York and her business had still failed. The long hours she’d kept had taken a toll on her marriage. She was ready to start all over again, to see the world, to experience fresh air and nature, and she was rather ashamed of how much time she’d spent on phones, computers, and other electronics.
Nikon encouraged this attitude, calling her his “Nature Girl,” and taking her to all sorts of exotic locales, where he photographed her extensively as though she were his personal model. “At first it felt like love, deep love,” she told Sam. “It was only after a few months, when I was already pregnant, that I realized it was something different—something obsessive. He framed the photos and began hanging them in our bedroom. Picture after picture of me, as though I was sleeping in a museum of myself.” It was then she started wishing to make contact with people at home—her parents, her siblings, Sam. And that was when she found that she could not do so.
First Nikon made excuses about connections—they were in deep water, out of cell phone range. Or he said that she should wait until they knew more about the child, to make sure it was fine, before she told family. And after he got tired of making excuses, he would simply say no, but always in his charming and manipulative way. He would be so loving and doting that she would feel guilty asking him for anything. He lavished her with gifts she didn’t really want, took her to the most beautiful places in the world, and yet she longed more and more just to return to New York and the life she left behind. She asked Lazos if he would live there with her, and he always promised that they would do that someday—after they finished their sea odyssey.
Sam had listened with a mixture of pity and disbelief, so crazy did her saga sound. And yet he knew, even with the strangest details, that it was all true.
On that evening he got the phone call, he went into Camilla’s study and shut the door. Camilla and I gave him his privacy, but at one point, driven by curiosity and what seemed to be silence in the room, I opened the door to find Sam lying on the floor, the phone against his ear, his eyes fixed bleakly on the ceiling. He said, “But that’s the problem. There was blood, Vic. Your blood, and a whole lot of it. I couldn’t help but think that you were trying to frame me.”
He listened, and even from the doorway I could hear the loud distress in Victoria West’s voice. She told Sam about Nikon, and his ever-efficient and ever-changing staff. If they needed medical attention, he hired the very best, as he had done for the birth of her baby. One day he had brought a team aboard and said that the local hospital was short of blood; he had promised that everyone on board would donate a pint for the greater good. So they did: Victoria and all the others gave blood, one by one, and yet she realized, in light of Sam’s news, that it had been a charade. That he had only wanted her blood, and he had put on that show so that she would willingly give it. She could not have known that he would send someone to Sam’s apartment and liberally spill it on the floor. She said bitterly, “Now I don’t know if the hospital got the other blood, or if Nikon simply dumped it into the sea.”
This had horrified Sam: not only the steps Lazos had taken to make sure no one searched for his secret lover, but how he had manipulated Victoria to believe all of his charming lies. She had been in the web of a spider but had never noticed the danger.
Victoria had spent the last part of the call apologizing. “I can’t believe what happened to you, Sam. I had no idea, not ever. If anything, I figured people had sort of forgotten about me, assuming I had run off with my new boyfriend. Everyone knew about him—you knew I was dating someone, and my mother and father knew. I just never mentioned his name, because I was waiting to introduce him to all of you—my big grand surprise. ‘Look at my rich, handsome, international boyfriend.’ What a stupid fool I was. What a fool. A teenage girl would have more sense than I did, the way I just followed him off into the blue. And by the end I was begging him, begging him to let me go home. He said that I was ungrateful, and that no woman on earth had the things I had. Which was true—so I was tormented on a daily basis. Was I going crazy? Was I a spoiled rich girl, as Nikon suggested? Or was I being victimized? Then, by the time I got really big with the pregnancy, any thoughts of running away went down the drain, and after that I had Athena to think of.”
Sam asked after the baby, and Victoria told him that she was fine, beautiful, perfect. “I hope you’ll understand, I don’t want to be cruel when I say I don’t think I ever truly loved someone until I looked into her eyes. She is the love of my life, Sam.”
He took this opportunity to tell Victoria about me: how I had stayed by his side when no one else had, how he had grown to love me. She told him that she wanted to meet me, and that she was very happy for us both. “Obviously we need to meet in person, but I need some time to be alone with my baby, to walk on
solid ground and just enjoy life. My parents and my sisters are with me, and we’re happy.”
“Will you prosecute Nikon?” Sam asked.
She hesitated. “The police are asking the same thing, but they’re also not exactly sure what we could charge him with. He did not take me against my will, nor did he ever lock me up. He just kept me on the ocean and continued a course of I guess what you’d call psychological intimidation. You’d have to know Nikon—he’s so persuasive, it’s almost like he hypnotizes you. And it’s hard, because a part of me still loves him. They have me talking to a therapist here, and she has made me see a lot of the patterns of abuse, but it’s hard to call it that. I never felt abused. But I did feel lonely and afraid. I felt those things quite often.”
Sam told her that he would always care about her, and that he would always be here if she needed him. He said he wanted to meet her daughter. Victoria cried then and said that she would make that happen, and soon.
Sam cried, too, as he talked to the wife that the world said he had murdered and heard her say, in a voice once loved and still familiar, that he was blameless.
• • •
THAT NIGHT I pulled Sam against me in my big warm bed. Camilla had long since gone to sleep, and Sam and I lay, wakeful and staring at the stars in a dark blue sky.
“She said she would speak to Jake Elliott,” Sam said. “He’ll tell the story the way it should be told. I feel good about that.”
“Meanwhile, the future is clear. Nothing left to wait for, nothing left to fear,” I said.
“Right.” Sam turned to look at me. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
“I do. Do you know I love you?”
“Yes, thank God. So the future is something we have to plan together.” His voice, to my great relief, had regained some of its lightness. It also sounded tired and deeply satisfied. He closed his eyes and smiled. “Maybe I’ll make you waffles in the morning. I won’t have to worry about Doug Heller arresting me, or reporters hunting me down, or Ted Strayer taking our picture.”
“That sounds lovely. Go to sleep, Sam West. You’re going to wake up a new man.”
• • •
HE DID. HE was more than cheerful the next day; he kissed Camilla and thanked her for her kindness, then led the way back to his house, holding my hand in his. Some reporters had indeed snuck past the Wentworth Street barricade, and Sam made a brief statement, telling them that he was thrilled Victoria was home, that he had spoken to her and she was in good spirits and surrounded by supporters including her parents, and that they were thrilled to have a granddaughter.
Sam pulled me against him in a dramatic kiss, and the cameras flashed. “Put that on the front page and say that Sam West is in love,” he said. “That will be one thing that you got totally right.”
His good mood continued inside, where he started on the waffles and flicked through a vast pile of mail. He opened a letter and grinned. “Look, Lena. This is from a little girl in England. She sent me a British pound and a picture of you and me.” The picture, drawn with a red crayon, featured Sam West standing next to a table, and me off to one side wearing a bikini. The caption said, “Sam and Lena London.”
“I like that one,” Sam said. “That bikini is sexy. It’s going on the fridge.”
I giggled. “You are back to being my playful Sam.”
His blue eyes met mine. “Definitely your Sam.”
I smiled at him, and he went back to his mail while I set the table. I looked into the snowy backyard, where I had first encountered Taylor Brand. No one had told Victoria about Taylor yet; her therapist had asked her friends and family to hold off until she felt a bit more secure. It would have to happen soon, since Victoria had started to ask about her, and had been looking at her blog.
Despite my happiness at the way things had turned out, and my pleasure in knowing that life in Blue Lake could now get back to normal, a worry nagged at my thoughts. I did not intend to burden Sam with it, and I did not think it had even penetrated his wall of relief and joy.
It was there, though, a subtly sinister fact that remained troublesome even in the light of day.
Nikon Lazos, released from police questioning, had disappeared.
With a sigh I turned back to Sam West, the one-time alleged murderer of Blue Lake, and watched him cook my breakfast.
• • •
FOR TWO WEEKS my life was sublime. February came, and for a couple of days the weather grew less cold. Sam and I drove up to Indianapolis for two nights and walked around the city for an early Valentine’s Day celebration.
We spent time in our hotel, enjoying room service and our bed, but we also ventured out into the city, happy to be openly together and not dogged by the press. No one knew where we were (except Camilla), and no one cared who we were in the anonymous crush of people on the sidewalks.
On our last night there we walked through the city and paused to window shop at a jewelry store. Sam pointed at some giant sapphire earrings. “Those would look lovely on you,” he said.
I laughed. “I’m not a flashy person. I don’t wear much jewelry. Just this ring.” I took the glove off my right hand to show a small twinkling diamond on my ring finger. “It was my mother’s.” A bolt of sadness went through me, potent as poison in the blood. I felt it now and then when I thought of my mother and the life we had been deprived of—a life together. She could have met Sam. She could have met Camilla . . .
Sam kissed my hand. “I’m going to find something that’s perfect for you. Something that cries ‘Lena London.’”
“Okay,” I said. “Maybe for Christmas.”
“Let’s have dinner. Find a place that looks good.”
We walked a couple more blocks and I spied a pretty little doorway outlined with Italian lights. “Ooh—that looks lovely.”
We moved closer, crossing the street to get to the main entrance, where a large family was filing in, stomping the snow from their feet. “It’s Greek,” Sam said, peering at the sign. And then, “Oh.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if you want to go here, Lena.”
“Why?”
He pointed at the sign. The restaurant was called the Oracle.
I shrugged. “Oracles delivered good news as well as bad. Are you afraid of evil omens?”
“Not if you aren’t.”
I studied his face in the warm light. “We found the Oracle. We rescued Victoria.”
“I know. Just a weird feeling for a minute. Let’s go in and have a nice dinner.” He took my hand and led me into the warm fragrant interior, where elegant candlelit tables were tucked into booths along both walls, and Greek music played softly in the background.
Sam and I sat down. I remember, in the glow of that moment, that I told him I loved him, and his face brightened.
That was the last happy thing.
• • •
WE RETURNED HOME the following morning. It was both comforting and sad to see Blue Lake again. Sam said he had some work to do, but that he would join Camilla and me for dinner.
I went into Graham House to find it empty; Camilla had left a note that she and Adam were out running errands. Her dogs came to greet me, and I took them into the backyard and gave them some frolicking time. Then I let them in and wandered Camilla’s house, finally walking into her office and sitting in my purple chair. I stared at her desk; it was odd to see it without her behind it. I hated the idea of change; I wanted everything to remain just as it was with Camilla and Adam and Sam and me, with Doug and Belinda and Allison and John, and my father and Tabitha. I wanted all my friends and family to remain as they were: happy, healthy, in my life. I wanted time to freeze, even as I acknowledged that it was changing at that moment.
I thought of Victoria West, and the way she had followed a dream of love into what had become her prison. The web of fate ha
d wrapped around her and left her isolated, lonely, pregnant with the child of a man she did not truly know. It was Lazos’s baby, Sam had assured me of that . . .
Lestrade strolled into the office and jumped into my lap. I scratched his furry head and then kissed it.
When Camilla returned I was still there, sitting in the purple chair.
“My dear, what is wrong?”
I looked up at her and shrugged. “Nothing. Everything is great. I’m just—moody. Isn’t that strange? We had the best weekend. And I’ve been sitting here feeling sad.”
Camilla studied me. “Intense emotion can open up other doors.”
“Yes. I guess so. Sam said he would come for dinner. Is that all right?”
“Always.” She leaned in to touch my shoulder. “Let me go hang up my coat, and then we can talk. We have a book tour to plan, you know.”
“Yes! Wonderful.”
She moved out of the room; I heard her rustling around, taking off her winter things. Then my phone rang. I took it from my pocket and saw the familiar number: Sam.
“Hello.”
“Sweet Lena. I can’t come for dinner. Something’s come up.”
“What’s going on?”
“I just got a call—Victoria’s here. She’s heading for Blue Lake now. She had said she wanted to talk to me in person, and—I mean, she’s on her way. I had no time to make arrangements for her, to do anything. In any case, she wants to talk. I want to talk, as well. We have things to sort out, papers to sign.”
Death in Dark Blue Page 23
