by Kay, Arlene
There are no brick and mortar stores at Sweet Nothings. Our business plan mandates an Internet-only presence. Candy’s mission involves scheduling live e-chats to promote new products and answering questions. She’s a genius, a natural saleswoman with a pinch of larceny. Employees revere her commitment to quality and her willingness to improve everything. Products are handmade in small batches by local workers, most of whom are holistic zealots.
Before leaving home, I’d done a quick check of Lucian Sand on the Concord University website. His CV was typical of the Northeast intelligentsia, Exeter and MIT, with one glaring exception. His original academic discipline was philosophy, of all things. He had gotten a PhD at the Sorbonne. That explained the whisper of French in his voice. Nothing explained or excused his brusqueness.
The palms of my hands moistened with fear. Time’s up, Lizzie Mae, no more stalling. I placed the envelope face down on the conference table alongside a bottle of Pellegrino. A tall crystal goblet winked at me as I slowly sipped the bubbly water. Ritual was useful. It distanced me from whatever was to come. Candy is normally the fanciful one; I’m the pragmatist of our duo. Not tonight.
Get on with it, I scolded. You’ve waited long enough. Was someone cooking the books? Tommy had six months to suss it out, and he’d be onto a financial scam faster than a flesh-eating virus. We’d always competed with each other tooth and nail to find the right answer, but Kai laughed at both of us. He had no need to prove himself.
What was Lucian Sand saying? Had someone murdered Tommy to cover up hanky-panky? CYBER-MED was privately held. If the company went public, a mandatory audit of the books would kick in, awkward if someone’s fingers were in the financial pie. On the other hand, Tommy’s death could also trigger an audit. How else to value his estate properly? I got a sudden mind meld from Estate Law 101. If the parties in a privately held entity agreed, the estate would be valued at fair market value of the shares. No audit. That slick Meg Cahill couldn’t wait to buy us out. She and loverboy Rao were shocked when we declined. She had addressed taking CYBER-MED public, too. Said it wouldn’t happen for a while, if ever.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Mark Andrews would love hearing that theory, especially when I mentioned that Lucian Sand had also made an offer. It proved only that CYBER-MED was an attractive company with savvy investors.
The disc beckoned to me like Circe. After fumbling with the computer, I finally faced it. Sound quality was very poor, but I recognized Tommy’s voice instantly. He wasn’t his normal jovial self. My stomach flip-flopped as my friend spoke in slow, measured tones.
“You knew I’d find out, didn’t you? Don’t deny it. Why would you do this? Money? You have no need for blood money.”
The reply was inaudible, disembodied. Impossible to tell if it were male or female.
“Fun! Are you insane? People died because of you. I’ll find proof just you wait and see. Bastard! You’re not so smart.”
The tape ended with a raucous laugh.
My heartbeat zoomed. I felt weak and disoriented, unable to breathe. My leg muscles twitched. Is this it? A heart attack. No one will find me until it’s too late.
Oddly enough, that calmed me. I didn’t fear death. Oh, no. The abundance of death enticed me, lured me into the hereafter. I knew that Kai waited there for me. Maybe Tommy was with him, too. I stretched my leg, lessening the muscle cramps.
Hyperventilating again, Lizzie Mae. That refrain had become my constant companion of late.
Candy was home this time, her voice vibrant, bordering on smug. “Where are you, Betts?”
“I’m just leaving Sweet Nothings. Are you alone?”
I heard a masculine rumble and Candy’s distinctive laugh. During their numerous quarrels, Tommy swore she brayed like a donkey.
“Arun’s just leaving. It’s raining outside.”
“Stay there. I’ll be right over.” I scooped my things into a tote and grabbed my umbrella.
The elevator took forever. Old buildings are charming but quirky. Otto was still on guard, peering out into the darkness like a furrowed sentry.
“Want I should get you a cab, Mrs. B.? It’s a bitch out there.” Political correctness eluded Otto. He was still plowing through the mysteries of the twentieth century, forget about the twenty-first.
Getting a cab on a rainy Boston night was a quest that would flatten Don Quixote. Candy lived only two blocks away. I’d be there before Otto found me a cab.
“Thanks, Otto. I’ll walk. I won’t melt.”
“I don’t know, Mrs. B. You’re awful sweet.” Otto had passed retirement age long ago. He’d earned a few idiosyncrasies.
“Wish me luck.” I unfurled my brolly and headed out. It was a sturdy Burberry model we’d found in England. The Brits know all about rain.
I plunged eastward into a web of deserted streets. Before long I heard the distinctive slap of footsteps on the pavement directly behind me. Too close, really. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark figure clad in rain gear.
Another idiot like me without a life.
I quickened my pace. My shadow did, too. A thin finger of fear raced through me as I considered my options. Two blocks, two long city blocks. Was I overreacting, being a fool? Could I outrun whoever it was?
My iPhone nestled somewhere in my tote bag. Close, yet impossibly far. I dared not stop to find it. Why, oh why had I worn high heels tonight? They hobbled me, giving any mugger an incalculable advantage.
The rain slowly subsided, and street lights painted ghostly grins on the sidewalks. I clutched my umbrella, comforted by its hardy ribs, sturdy shaft and sharp ferrule. Fragments from a long ago self-defense course burbled up. Hug the curb; move briskly; show confidence. Those tidbits made more sense in a warm dry classroom with Kai sitting next to me. Tonight they sounded absurdly optimistic.
My pulse reached stratospheric levels as I made a choice. Those well-mannered black pumps flew behind me like grenades. I felt liberated despite my sopping hosiery and aching feet. It was now or never time, possibly do or die. I chose the only path open to me. I ran.
Seven
I ran faster than I ever had, faster than seemed humanly possible. I wouldn’t last long running barefoot on the bruised and broken Boston pavement. Some stranger, someone right behind me, wanted me dead. I knew that with a certainty that astounded me.
The adrenaline high was wearing off, leaving me with sharp pains and ragged shreds of breath. One more block, a short one this time. I saw the roof of Candy’s building in the distance. Thank God I’d kept my tote. Louis Vuitton doesn’t grow on trees, and that thick-coated canvas might stop a bullet if it had to. Stubborn. Stupid even. I should have waited, found a cab.
A slate grey sports car pulled up to the curb, gunning its engine. Porsche Cayenne, I think that’s what it was. Kai priced one just like it before he died. Family friendly, he’d said.
Maybe that stabbing pain I felt was just heartbreak. Since Kai died, nothing mattered much anyway. I wanted to look back, confront my pursuer, but that was dumb, a loser’s play. What defensive skills did I have other than an agile mind and a powerful set of lungs? A razor sharp tongue doesn’t count. Good grades don’t cut it on the mean streets. The only test that counts is survival, and I might fail the course.
The engine’s roar intensified as someone called my name. A car window rolled down, magnifying the volume. The driver flung the side door open wide.
“Hurry.” The voice was unmistakable.
I saw his face, made a choice, and jumped in.
Lucian Sand saved my life.
At first I couldn’t speak. Fear, misery or something like it robbed me of my voice. He floored the Porsche, aiming it toward Candy’s building.
“How’d you find me?” I croaked.
He calmly shifted into second gear, harnessing the machine’s five hundred horses. “What, no thank you?” he asked with a grin, “after I just saved your life?”
“You don’t know that.
I was running to avoid the rain.”
His smile was charming. Cocky, but charming. “You always run barefoot on the streets, Mrs. Buckley? Hard on the toes, no?”
The man was impossible.
“OK, you’re right. Did you see who was following me? Was it a man or a woman?”
He swung into the underground garage adjoining Candy’s building and found a spot.
“Couldn’t tell. Someone fairly tall, though. Could be male or female.”
Lucian Sand was no help at all. I unsnapped my seatbelt and opened the door. “Thanks for the ride,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Hold on.” He jumped out and locked his car.
“Where are you going?”
“With you.” He steadied me as I limped toward the elevator. “Ms. Ott invited me. Unless you object, of course. That’s where I was going when I ran into you.”
I swallowed my pride and leaned on him as we entered the lobby. It felt good, leaning on someone else for a change. Candy lived on the penthouse floor, a perk that required a special access key. Her doorman recognized me and waved. “Go right on up, Mrs. Buckley. She’s expecting you.”
Lucian and I retired to opposite ends of the elevator, each of us maintaining a stony silence. Suspicion hitched a ride with us, too. I don’t believe in coincidence, and Professor Sand’s sudden appearance was a big one. Perhaps he had engineered the whole thing. What better way to earn my trust and gratitude?
“You never answered my question,” I said. “How did you find me?”
He gave one of those elegant Gallic shrugs accompanied by a raised eyebrow. Like most Americans, I’d never mastered that trick. Tommy looked like Quasimodo when he tried it. Candy never even bothered. Only Kai was up to the task. He’d been the ultimate Francophile, honing his language skills and perfecting that shrug.
“Never mind,” I said as the door opened.
Candy was waiting for us, bouncing from one foot to another. She stopped short when she saw me. “Oh, my God! What happened, Betts?” She flung her arms around me in a stranglehold. “You’re wet! And what happened to your shoes?”
It took her only an instant to size up Lucian Sand. “You must be the professor,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Perhaps I should call you Sir Galahad, since you saved my friend from drowning.”
He bowed. “At your service, Mademoiselle.
“That’s not all,” I said. “Someone was following me, I think, until Dr. Sand appeared.”
Candy blanched. “Oh, no. This is too weird. When you called, I told Rao …”
Rao! Where was Arun Rao when I left Sweet Nothings? Candy’s building was so close, only two blocks. Maybe he had decided to surprise me. Thrill me to death.
“Where are my manners?” Candy said. “Come in. Have a drink.” She herded us into her parlor with a skill reminiscent of Della.
“Give me some hot tea, if you’ve got it. No caffeine, or I’ll never sleep tonight.”
Candy grinned at Lucian Sand. “How about you? Tea or something stronger?”
He turned bright azure eyes on her. “Both, if you please.”
After lighting the gas fire, Candy bustled off to the kitchen to play hostess while I snuggled under her velvet throw and watched him. Impossibly handsome men have always intimidated me, even Kai. I feel so inadequate next to them.
Lucian Sand was straight from central casting, movie star perfect right down to the ponytail, French accent and awesome abs. His manners could stand improvement, of course. He was probably used to coeds who bowed and scraped to his every whim. That wouldn’t happen with me. Unlike most women, I was bulletproof, armor-plated, too numbed by loss to react to mere flesh and blood.
“Did you listen to it?” he asked.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Listen to what?” Candy asked, sweeping into the room with tea and fancy snacks.
That did it. If I ignored her, Candy wouldn’t rest until she’d wormed the information out of me. Better to fess up and seize control of the situation.
I fished the disk from my tote. “Here. Dr. Sand shared this with me. See what you think.”
Candy is no Einstein, but her survival instincts are first rate She flipped open her laptop, inserting Lucian Sand’s prize package. I tried not to listen. It was painful hearing Tommy’s solemn voice speaking with his murderer. Candy handled it remarkably well. She switched off the machine and sat quietly, hands folded like a chastened schoolgirl.
Finally, she glanced up and cleared her throat. “OK. What does all this mean?”
“We wondered what got Tommy killed,” I said. “There it is. Part of it anyway.” I turned toward Lucian. “Unless there’s more. I doubt that fudging figures would lead to murder. It would have to be one hell of a scam. You know Tommy. No way could he keep from spilling the beans to us.”
Candy bit her lip. That’s never good news, especially since she constantly slathers lip gloss on her mouth to keep it moist.
“He tried to, Betts. Tommy, I mean. Remember that last week when he tried to contact you? I spoke with him instead.”
“You? What did he want?”
“That’s just it. He wouldn’t tell me, just said to make you call him. I’m sorry.”
I kept my face statue still. Betraying Tommy was bad enough, but I’d be damned if I’d let an arrogant stranger see me cry.
“Now you understand,” Lucian said. “The situation is dangerous. I repeat my offer. Sell your shares to me, and stay safe.”
Candy cocked her head. “What offer? Don’t tell me you want our shares, too?”
“Do the police have this?” I watched him closely.
He gave that stupid shrug again. “Nope. They won’t get it either. Not right now. They’ll march through CYBER-MED and destroy everything. High tech is precarious. One whisper of scandal, and investors get very squeamish. That company could be worth a fortune some day, and I will not risk it.”
My head swam with facts, figures and fears. Sleep was no luxury; it was a necessity.
I patted Candy’s back. “I’m going home. Tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep, we’ll discuss this.”
“Stay here, Betts. Your place might not be safe.” Candy’s lip quivered as if tears weren’t far away.
“I can’t leave Della alone. Don’t worry. I promise to take a cab.” I hugged my friend and started for the door. Lucian Sand was right behind me.
“Don’t be absurd. My car is right here.” He kissed Candy’s hand and gave her a half bow. “I will take Mrs. Buckley to her door, I promise.”
Exhaustion claimed me, making me pliable for a change. I meekly followed him to his Porsche and climbed in. My eyes closed for just a second. When they opened we were parked outside my home on Commonwealth Avenue.
“How do you know where I live?”
He opened the car door and helped me out. “I know more about you than you’d ever believe.” He squeezed my hand as if he had a right to and guided me up the stairs to Della.
“I’ll take that disc now,” he said.
The man infuriated me. How dare he intrude on my life? Intrude? That’s way too mild. He had stomped into my life, demanding things I could never give. He had no right to do that, not when Kai’s memory was alive. I didn’t want or need a flesh-and-blood man. My husband’s spirit was enough.
Lucian stared at me with those mesmerizing orbs of his, blue green, how ridiculous was that? Cold, imperious eyes that froze out anyone who defied him. His accent deepened whenever things annoyed him. Just a touch of France peeked through.
“I need that information,” he said. “I mean it, Mrs. Buckley. It’s important.”
He blocked my path and stood there like a stone pillar. Admittedly, images of Michelangelo’s David flashed before my eyes, but that didn’t change anything. He really was a statue — cold, unyielding marble.
“Forget it,” I spat, reaching for my keys. “I’m not giving you anything.”
He moved slowly, ineluctably tow
ard me. His eyes had changed. They were closer to mountain rain than glacial pools now. Soft, gentle rain. His fingers moved slowly down my arm, inflaming every nerve.
“So lovely,” he whispered. “In France your name would be Elisa. Much softer, no? I think I will call you Elisa from now on, if you will permit me.”
I gulped, more than once. Sensation was foreign to me. I’d been numbed by grief for so long, unable to react or feel anything but Kai’s memory.
This can’t be happening. It isn’t real.
His lips brushed against my hair like the kiss of a sea breeze. Now I shivered.
“Don’t fear me,” he said.
The man was so damn cocky!
I tried to move away. Tried and failed. “Leave me alone. You don’t scare me. I’m not afraid of anyone.”
He tilted my chin toward him, watching me for a second. I was mesmerized, unable to look away.
“You were very brave tonight, ma petite. You fought so hard to live.” He drew me to him. “Only the living can give you what you need. The dead can’t hold you when you feel afraid.” His kiss was a gentle promise of much more. For a moment I forgot everything else and floated in a sensual sea of pleasure.
“Stop worshiping ghosts,” he whispered. “I’ll never leave you alone, my Elisa. That’s a promise.” Lucian Sand whirled around and vanished down the stairs.
~
“Tell me everything,” Candy said. “Come on. Don’t be shy, Betts.”
She’d called me as soon as I got home, eager to dish the dirt. I’d never admit what happened with Lucian Sand even to Candy, especially to Candy. My feelings were a tangled mass of guilt and rapture, utter folly for a married woman. My eyes stung.
That’s the problem, Lizzie Mae. You’re not married anymore. Kai’s gone, sacrificed to Pan the mountain god.
