Naked Hope

by Rebecca E. Grant

  “Isn’t that a little atypical for a grifter?”

  Gage shrugged. “Grifters want to get in and get out and they’re typically not violent, but Vivienne had a long list of lovers. Did you know that? Paul’s theory is that she had some kind of falling out with Hawke when she found out he was playing her for her money. He thinks something went down between them that frightened her so much, she was literally fleeing for her life.”

  “So, the fight with Gavin had nothing to do with the accident.” Jill rested a hand on the counter to steady herself as relief surged through her body.

  “According to the latest findings, the best we can determine is that, Vivienne was making a fast exit and Gavin happened to come along, they had their fight, which upset Olivia, and her grandmother comforted her. Later, when things appeared to have settled down, Olivia slipped away and hid in the car her mother had jammed full of boxes and other paraphernalia.”

  Jill twirled her wine. “I’m not sure this does anything to alleviate Gavin’s feelings of guilt.”

  “Well, it proves she wasn’t planning to kill Olivia any more than she was planning to kill herself.”

  “Yes, but now he’ll feel responsible because she was in deep trouble and didn’t think he’d help her, or even listen. Which led to her running away, and Olivia hiding, which led to the accident that he has believed he caused every day since it happened.”

  “Sure, but you’re making a rookie mistake. You’re assuming rational behavior. But Vivienne was anything but rational, and after a fight like the one you described, neither was Gavin.”

  “I’ve already tried telling him that he couldn’t have anticipated the accident.”

  Gage looked at Jill over her readers. “He’s lucky, you know. The husband is always the first suspect when a wife is found murdered. After the police realized Gavin wasn’t in the car, and they couldn’t find him, he became a person of interest. And then, when he did show, he kept repeating that he was responsible. Meanwhile, the storm got so bad”

  “It stormed? Thunderstorm?” Jill jerked in surprise.

  “Worst one in three decades. The storm slowed everything long enough for his dad to convince the DA it was in everyone’s best interests to wrap it up and move on. The storm destroyed the crime scene, the pieces seemed to fit, and enough money exchanged hands so they went ahead and declared the event a suicide/attempted homicide. If Vivienne’s killer hadn’t been careless enough to get his photo taken, Paul might not have tumbled to any of this.”

  “You said the original report indicated severing her head became necessary in order to remove the body from the wreck. That’s not the case?”

  Gage grimaced. “No.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Excuse me, Maestro.” Baines cleared his throat in the doorway of the music hall. “The two detectives who called earlier are at the door.”

  “Very good, Baines. Take them to the library. I’ll get Dad.”

  Detectives Danforth and Lancer extended their hands. Lawrence ignored them, but Gavin exchanged brief handshakes. He pointed to the sofa. “Please, have a seat,” and took a seat near the fireplace.

  “Never mind about getting comfortable, what’s this about new information? I thought we were done with all of this,” Lawrence demanded.

  “It’s all right, Dad. Let them talk.”

  Detective Danforth swallowed hard. “As I said on the phone, we have new information. Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Your wife was having an affair with a pretty bad guy by the name of Linus Hawke. Were you aware of this?”

  Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. “My son’s knowledge of his wife’s affairs isn’t open for discussion here. Get to the point, man.”

  “Now see here,” Lancer objected.

  Danforth cut his partner off with a warning glance. “Hawke has a long record of preying on women for their money, and he’s suspected in a number of homicides. But we’ve never gathered enough evidence to prosecute. It seems your wife got wise to his game and tried to dump him. But he wouldn’t dump, and threatened her. Scared her pretty bad. Enough so that she tried to run away. She ever try to talk to you about this guy? Mention she was in trouble?”

  Gavin shook his head long past feeling surprise to learn of yet another affair. “No. But we were well beyond talking about anything.”

  “So, she left in your car—presumably because she thought Hawke wouldn’t recognize it. Hawke followed her, a high speed chase ensued, and she lost control of the car. You saw what a wreck it was. One of the worst I’ve ever seen. She hit the piling at high speed.”

  Gavin leaned against a row of books and closed his eyes. “Is there more?”

  Danforth pursed his lips. “’Fraid this won’t go down easy. The medical examiner says she was still alive when Hawke used a sawed-off sword to decapitate her. He then proceeded to call the accident into two different precincts. That bridge is on the border between Sheraton and Crow counties. that’s how we ended up with two medical examiners on the scene in the dead of night in the worst storm in three decades. They each thought the other had already examined the body.”

  Gavin’s insides exploded. “Did Olivia see?”

  Danforth glanced at his watch. “We can’t know for sure, but it’s likely she was knocked unconscious on impact.”

  Gavin bolted from the room and up the stairs calling for Olivia. When he didn’t find her, he charged into the sunroom where Olivia was sitting on her swing. Without hesitation or explanation, he hauled her up into his arms and crushed her like a wild man.

  After several moments, her arms slid around his neck.

  “It’s okay, Dad. I know you love me.”

  Three days later, he was almost out the door for Olivia’s three-week evaluation when his mother stopped him.

  “Come back inside a moment, dear.” He recognized her tone and knew better than to argue.

  She handed him a stiff white envelope.

  ”What’s this?”

  “Read it now, before you go to your appointment with Jillian.”

  Gavin used the bow of his sunglasses to slit open the envelope. He unfolded the letter and recognized his Uncle Raleigh’s rather formal handwriting.

  Gavin, my boy,

  If you’re reading this, it means I’ve finally gone and kicked the bucket. Pardon an old man for imposing like this but I must ask of you a favor. It would please me if you would consent to take me one last time to South Wales where I can be buried next to my beloved MaryAnn in the little country cemetery not far from St. David’s in Pembrokeshire.

  My second request is one I fear you will think frivolous but one I ask you consider, despite how you may feel. My final wish is that you spend a few days in the family home near Whitesands Bay. You have the Celtic sea in you. Your soul cries out for it. Don’t do this for me, boy. Do this for yourself.

  Yours affectionately,

  R.G.F.

  Edith kissed her son’s forehead. “At Christmas, he made me promise to give you this letter after his passing.”

  ****

  Jill looked up to see Gavin leaning against the frame of her doorway. Dressed in gray, his wool sweater and trousers emphasized his well-muscled arms and the leanness of the rest of his body. He looked as ruggedly aristocratic as ever.

  Neither of them said anything. His gaze probed hers. She steeled herself. No matter how much she’d missed him over the last three weeks, they were over.

  “I miss you,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I’m going away. I don’t know for how long. Maybe forever. I’m not sure.”

  Blood rushed in her ears. She forced herself to remain silent even though her heart pleaded, don’t go.

  “And I’m taking Liv with me. I know she’s doing better. I don’t need you to tell me that. But I agreed to keep this appointment, so here I am.”

  Jill barely trusted herself to speak. “Yes, she’s shown improvement. The last three days have started to tell a very different story.”
>
  “Since I learned the truth about the accident.”

  “I see. What did you tell Olivia?”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. “That a very bad man hurt her mother.”

  “And Olivia stopped blaming herself.”

  “That’s what I think. You think so, too?”

  Throat tight, she nodded. “And you? Have you stopped blaming yourself?”

  Pain etched across his face. “Everything I thought to be true about the accident has shifted into something I can’t comprehend. I need to sort out things.”

  Jill allowed her gaze to move slowly over him. “Olivia told me she knows you love her.”

  Briefly, he closed his eyes. “That’s why I’m taking her with me, no matter what you say, Jillian. I know it’s a break from your protocol, and that my actions may affect your trial. But this is something I have to do—something Liv and I must do.” He dropped an envelope on her desk. “I’d like you to read this.”

  She picked up the envelope, slid out the letter, and began to read. Overcome, tears collected in her eyes.

  “So, now you know where I’m going and why. And why I’m taking Liv.”

  Barely able to speak, she whispered, “Yes.”

  “I need to know, Jillian. If we come back, is there a place here for Liv?”

  “When you come back—” her words came out strangled and stiff. “—if you come back, we’ll reassess and map out a new protocol.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Edith draped a fur trimmed white satin wrap around Jill’s shoulders. “The wrap really sets off the color of your gown, and faux fur is so chic these days.”

  As she yanked on the strapless bodice, Jill rolled her eyes. “Perhaps, but if I trip over my skirt when I’m dancing, I’ll be doing a strip tease.”

  The older woman quipped, “Be grateful you have that much to hold it up, dear.”

  Jill lifted the crimson fabric. It shimmered like sun-kissed water as it draped around her in the mirror. The clingy fabric left little to the imagination. She bit her lip. “It feels positively decadent…”

  Gavin’s mother tilted her head and drew her brows together. “Sometimes the line between stunning and decadent is a thin one. In this case, you are, to use your word, positively stunning.” She turned to the sales woman and held up one of the dozen pairs of shoes Jill had tried on. “She’ll take that gown and these shoes.”

  Jill’s jaw dropped at the price tag.

  Edith offered a benign smile. “This is for charity, and well worth the expenditure. One look at you and at least half of the attendees will empty their wallets.”

  “Especially if I trip over my hem,” Jill muttered under her breath.

  They crossed the street and popped into Leo’s. Delighted with the charming atmosphere, Edith remarked, “How quaint,” and ordered a cup of beef barley soup. She dug in her purse and withdrew quarters. “Would you mind, dear? If they have that song by Eric Clapton, I think it’s called, Wonderful Tonight, would you play it, dear?”

  Jill’s stomach lurched, remembering the first time she and Gavin had eaten at Leo’s. Wonderful Tonight had been playing in the background. Jill dropped quarters into the slot, selected several songs, Wonderful Tonight among them, and returned to the table just as their food arrived.

  “Well, now that all the work is behind us and you’ve finally chosen your gown, I’m so looking forward to the gala, aren’t you?” Edith asked, shaking out her napkin.

  “Of course.” Jill picked at her food.

  Edith wiped her mouth, catching a few stray crumbs. “It’s just so unfortunate that we had to replace Gavin. He can be so entertaining when he plays benefits. Very witty. It’s all in his timing. I know I sound like a proud mother, but timing is what makes the difference between good and great. In almost anything, don’t you agree?”

  Jill squirmed, remembering the way Gavin held an ice cube on his tongue, guiding it across her body in no apparent rush, amplifying her desire. She cleared her throat. “Yes, timing is…important.”

  “Well, anyway, the change couldn’t be helped. He suggested several fine replacements so we’re in good shape. Lawrence and I will come by about six-thirty. Will that work?”

  “There’s no need to pick me up,” Jill demurred.

  Edith drew back. “I’m fully aware things didn’t work out between you and my son, but please don’t let that stand in the way of our friendship. Besides, we’re a team and we need to see the gala through. We can’t do that if you feel awkward about the relationship between you and Gavin.” She reached for Jill’s hand. “My son is a difficult man, and so like his father. I can understand if he’s too dark for you.”

  Too dark?

  “I’m aware he sometimes doesn’t listen well, he’s moody, domineering, and…well, even though I’m his mother, I recognize that he’s darkly sensuous. Those same qualities draw some women like flies, as much as they might repel a woman like you. They’re also what make him a great musician, and an even greater conductor. He has to be strong, exacting, and clear about his vision with enough brooding mystery to make the music seem magical.”

  Strong and exacting in the most exciting ways…

  She looked deep into Jill’s eyes. “But, like his father, any woman who hopes to have happiness will have to know how to manage him, without him feeling managed. You’re the first woman I’ve met who has the strength and the soul to do that.”

  She squeezed Jill’s hand. “Now, just let me call Baines to come and get us. He’ll drop you home before I head back to Shadow Hills.”

  As Edith hung up from Baines, Jill twisted her napkin beneath the table and said, “He’s not too dark for me. He broke his word by allowing Steven to work with Olivia. And then he hid it. He deceived me, Edith. His deceit came at a great cost, not only to our relationship, but to his daughter, and to the other children in my program.”

  Edith leaned back and studied Jill. “Now Jillian, you can’t possibly expect me to believe you.”

  Jill’s head shot up. “What?”

  “My son did all those things. And he was wrong. But his reason for doing them was right. If you can’t see that, then I was wrong about you.”

  Unable to think of even one thing to say, Jill stared.

  Edith’s gaze probed Jill’s. “And if you truly loved him, the choices he made about his daughter couldn’t keep you away. Love isn’t awarded because of how well someone does what you want them to. And love isn’t withdrawn because of how catastrophically they might fail at something. My son failed catastrophically because he will do anything to give his daughter back what she so desperately wants. To my way of thinking, that sounds like the very definition of love.”

  Was that the very definition of love? Jill wondered. But she couldn’t argue that Gavin would do anything to give Olivia back her music.

  As Baines pulled up in front of her loft, Edith hugged Jill and placed a light kiss on her cheek. “We’ll pick you up for the gala at six-thirty. Please don’t let the things I’ve said ruin our friendship. I adore you, Jillian. We all do.”

  Inside, Jill took off her coat, removed her gown from its wrapping and hung it out, then dipped her toe into one of the shoes. She slipped on the other one and walked around the loft, loving their sensual fit. She headed into the kitchen to make tea but couldn’t settle down. When the kettle boiled, she kicked off the shoes, stirred her tea, and wandered into the living room.

  Seven weeks. Her head ached as she threw herself down on the sofa and closed her eyes against the memory of Olivia beating at Steven’s chest and the ghastly look on Gavin’s face. Seven weeks since Christmas. Four since he’d taken Olivia and left for Wales.

  Barren. Excavating Gavin from her life left her barren. She blinked back tears. And what about Olivia? What had the last four weeks been like?

  She blinked harder, reached for her phone, and sent a text to Gage, punching out Will you help me dress for the gala Saturday? I miss G so much, I might not go unle
ss you give me moral support. She hit ‘send,’ brushing away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Tossing her phone on the coffee table, she went in search of a box of tissues and chocolate, found both, collected her phone, and crawled into bed.

  When her phone buzzed, she’d just turned out the light. She sat up, reached for her phone, and read Message from Gavin. Gavin texted her? Her heart skipped a beat. She slid her thumb along the arrow.

  Gavin’s one-word message popped up. What?

  Her body went still. She gulped, staring down at the phone and then jumped as her phone buzzed with another text.

  Did you mean that message for me?

  Jill fell backward against the pillows, rubbing her fists into her eyes. Damn, damn, damn. Tears leaked from beneath her fists. She reached for a balled-up tissue on her nightstand, dabbed her eyes and wrote, No, sorry. Meant it for Gage. Damn autotext…

  Almost asleep, her phone buzzed with a new text.

  From under her pillow, she pulled out her phone and read, I’m sorry, Jillian. I really fouled things up. I miss you too.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jill sat on the edge of the bed, a hot pink towel wrapped around her freshly showered body. “I just know someday I’ll think that little blunder was funny.” She smoothed lotion into her arms. The spicy, romantic fragrance caught in her nose and emphasized her ache.

  Gage pointed to the bottle. “Mmmmmm, that’s fabulous. What is it?”

  “My own blend of bergamot, iris, vanilla and amber. I had the scent created when I was in Paris last year.”

  Her friend reached for the bottle. “It’s divine.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And not the kind of indulgence I would have expected from the serious-minded research psychologist persona you so often project.”

  “I don’t project a persona,” Jill snapped. “I am who I am.”