The Woman Who Wasn't There

by Marie Ferrarella

  She was diverting the conversation, but he decided he’d let her. She looked as if she’d enjoyed herself. “You could have taken them off at any time. Uncle Andrew’s not a stickler for formality.”

  She looked at him as if he’d just suggested she go skinny dipping in the punch bowl. “No way. If I took off my shoes, I would have been trampled on. Everyone there was taller than I was, including some of the five-year-olds.”

  Taking the last turn to her apartment complex, he grinned. “I didn’t know you had this penchant for exaggeration.”

  Neither did she. Today had been a very different, very nice experience for her. She’d never been at a family gathering before. Birthdays when she was growing up were solitary affairs, just her mother and her. When her mother remembered that it was her birthday.

  “A lot of things about me that you don’t know,” she replied, doing her very best to create an aura of mystery.

  Night traveled along with them on their way back to her apartment, darkening the windows. Turning her head, Delene caught her reflection in the side window.

  She was smiling.

  For no reason.

  When was the last time that had happened?

  The last time she was with Troy. The man had a way of bringing out the smiles that were deeply embedded inside of her.

  You’re getting carried away, a small voice in her head warned, not for the first time. That same small, practical voice that had urged her to make good her escape from Russell. The voice of reason.

  “So tell me,” Troy urged as he stopped behind a battered Volvo, waiting for the light to change.

  She looked at him, confused. “Tell you what?”

  “If there are all these ‘mysterious’ things about you that I still don’t have a clue about, tell me what they are.” He turned to look at her. “I’m listening.”

  The smile on her lips faded. He was digging. To possess her? “I didn’t mean—”

  Glancing, he saw that the light had turned green again. The Volvo in front of them had begun to move. And so did he. His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but his expression never wavered. Never gave her a clue about what he was feeling inside.

  “Okay,” he allowed, forcing his voice to sound cheerful, “too soon. I can accept that. Maybe later.”

  “Later as in later tonight?”

  “No, as in later-later.” He glanced at Delene. Despite all her bravado, she still spooked easily. The last thing he wanted was to spook her. “Tomorrow. Next week. Next month.”

  Even as Troy said the words, he realized that he meant them. Without thinking about it, he’d made plans. Plans for them. Plans about their future. A future he wanted to spend together.

  Wow, when had that happened? When had he gone from Troy Cavanaugh, lover of women, to Troy Cavanaugh, lover of the woman? All he could conclude was that it had just snuck up on him somewhere during the night.

  Beside him, Delene was stiffening. He drew the only logical conclusion that he could. “I’m scaring you, aren’t I?”

  She didn’t understand. How did he know her that well? Was that just a lucky guess? They had hardly been together at all. How did he see into her soul with such clarity? Because she’d felt that he had that ability all along, that’s how. She couldn’t be anything less than honest with him. “Yes.”

  He wished it were otherwise. But some things took time. A smile flashed quickly, curving and then releasing his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. We can take this slow. This is new for me, too.” The confession was an afterthought.

  She laughed shortly. “What, seducing a woman?”

  “No, that I’ve been doing for a long time,” he said with no fanfare, no vanity at all. “I mean making plans with the woman I’ve seduced—real plans,” he emphasized. And then, to keep the moment from becoming too serious, he grinned. “And, as I remember it, you were the one who extended the invitation first, not the other way around so technically,” he concluded, driving into her apartment complex, “you seduced me.”

  She hadn’t meant it that way. She’d just wanted to get all the sexual tension behind her so that she could think clearly. And now she couldn’t seem to think clearly at all. “Troy.”

  He heard so much in her voice. The note of pleading. The request for indulgence. That was when he realized that he loved her. And if she needed all this, okay, so be it. He cared enough to step back.

  The regular spots in guest parking were full. There were a lot of overnight guests parking tonight. He wouldn’t be one of them. “You want me to let you have your space, is that it?”

  What was this strange ache in her heart? When had she started caring? Why would she do that to herself?

  She avoided his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Space is another word for vacant. Nobody wants to feel vacant, Delene. To feel empty.” Finally finding a place, he brought the car to a stop. But he didn’t cut off the engine. “I know I don’t and I don’t think that you do, either.” He made one attempt at convincing her before he backed off. “Don’t let what happened to you five years ago rob you of being happy. Because then he’s won and you’ve lost.”

  She sighed. Everything felt so mixed-up inside her head. “You’re making sense. You’re being logical. But in here—” she tapped her head “—I still can’t help being afraid.”

  “It’s not a battle you should face by yourself.” But he didn’t want her to think he was pressuring her, so he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “But okay, I’ll let you spend the night without me. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they tell me. You’d better grow a lot fonder,” he told her. “Because what I had planned for tonight…”

  Delene put her fingertips across his lips, not wanting to hear. Not wanting to be tempted. “Rain check,” she said.

  “Haven’t you heard? It never rains in California,” he reminded her. “Want me to walk you to your door?” From where he parked, he would have to crane his neck to see her go in.

  She shook her head. “I’ll be all right.” And then she paused for a second. “Diane,” she told him. “It’s Diane.”

  They’d just taken another giant step forward, he thought. “Your name?” She nodded. “Diane,” he repeated. “It’s very pretty.”

  She said nothing. Quickly she got out of the car. Before she begged him to spend the night.

  She knew she needed time. Time to sort this out. Time to think. And she couldn’t think when he was around. Because all she wanted to do was make love with him.

  With quick steps, she hurried up the stone stairs leading to her loft. Unlocking the door, she hesitated before stepping inside. The loneliness was already beginning to engulf her. She thought about running down the stairs again and trying to catch him. With effort, she forced herself to walk into her apartment.

  She closed the door behind her, turned and faced…

  “Hello, Diane. Have a nice evening?”

  Russell was sitting on her sofa.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  Delene couldn’t move.

  At first she was certain she was having another nightmare. She’d visualized Russell coming back into her life so many times, in so many different ways, that for a brief moment, she clung to the scrap of hope that she was hallucinating.

  He couldn’t actually be here. He just couldn’t.

  Russell’s lips slowly peeled back from his perfect, white teeth. The smile on his face was positively feral. It made her blood run cold. And begin pumping double-time in her veins.

  Delene remained where she stood, wondering how long it would take him to catch up to her if she turned around and ran. She was faster than he was, but his legs were longer.

  And then anger set in. How dare he be here? After everything he’d done to her, how dare he show up and invade her life like this?

  “Get out of here, Russell.”

  Anger flashed across Russell’s suntanned, smooth brow. The next moment, it disappeared again without a trace. De
lene remembered that he was at his worst when he appeared deadly calm.

  “Quite a life you’ve carved out for yourself, Diane.” The deep, resonant voice that echoed through so many courtrooms filled her tiny apartment, oppressing her. Mocking her.

  She rallied as if her life depended on it. Because it did. “I’m not the frightened nineteen-year-old you could use as a punching bag anymore.”

  He seemed not to hear her. Instead, still sitting on the sofa, he steepled his fingers before him as he regarded her. His gaze was intense. It took effort not to shift uncomfortably.

  “I don’t like the clothing,” he finally said, nodding at the outfit she was wearing, “but you’ve filled out. Blossomed.”

  She wasn’t interested in his stamp of approval, or what he thought of her after all this time. She just wanted him out of here, out of her life. “We’re not married anymore, Russell. You have no right to be here if I don’t want you to be.”

  Russell seemed to struggle with his temper. “Don’t talk to me about rights, Diane,” he told her smoothly. “You’re way out of your league. That cheap Mexican divorce isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. I can have it rescinded anytime I want.”

  She was smarter now than when she’d married him. Could think on her feet. The fact that he hadn’t had the divorce rescinded told her that it wasn’t as easily managed as he claimed.

  With all her heart, she wished she had her gun in her hands. But it hadn’t seemed right, dropping it into her purse and bringing it to a family party. There was no need for it with all those law-enforcement agents around. There was a need for it now.

  She remained firm. Any displays of weakness would have him going for the jugular. “I don’t want to debate you, Russell, I just want you gone.”

  “Not without you, Diane.” She saw the rage he was fighting to keep from exploding. “You shamed me, embarrassed me in front of my friends, my employer.”

  His employer. The man responsible for who knew how many ruined lives, not to mention dead people. She sneered at him. “Oh, right, and the head of a crime family has such high standards.” Her hand on the doorknob, she was about to pull it open. “Get out, Russell. Get out before I call the police.”

  What he said next froze her in her tracks far more effectively than anything he could have possibly done to her. “What, you mean your boyfriend? Think he can help you?” He rose, a menacing figure in a three-thousand-dollar gray Versace suit. “Think again.”

  Was he bluffing? Not even Russell would go up against an entire law-enforcement family. “What do you know about him?”

  She tried not to shiver when she saw his smile widen. “I always do my homework, you know that. And I know a lot, oh love of my life. For instance, I know that you’ve turned into a whore, disgracing your marriage vows.”

  Something inside her snapped. If anyone had disgraced their marriage vows, he had. He’d promised to love, to cherish and to protect her. Using his fists to put her in a coma did none of those.

  “We are not married,” she said in between clenched teeth.

  He seemed to grow in stature right before her eyes. “We’re married if I say we’re married,” he told her malevolently.

  She took her stand. The way she should have done years ago. “I’m not going back with you. I’d rather die first.”

  He laughed. The sound cut straight to the bone. Anger flared within her again, smothering the fear that had been steadily rising inside her breast.

  “That can be arranged.” Rising to his feet, he began to circle around her, a predator toying with his prey, trying to decide whether to kill it now or at some later point. “But not before you watch that fine young police detective of yours die a slow, painful death.” His eyes locked on hers. “Don’t think I wouldn’t do it. Maybe I’ll even throw in a few members of his family, as well. No extra charge.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, rage flaring in his eyes. “You know me, Diane. You know that I don’t make empty threats.” He released her, the cold smile back on his lips. “Now, what’ll it be? Will you come back with me peacefully, or do I have to eliminate that pretty detective of yours?” He lowered his head. “And I guarantee you, he won’t be pretty when I finish. He’ll be begging for me to put an end to his misery. And cursing you with his dying breath.”

  He’d drawn her a dramatic scenario, but she didn’t doubt that it was also true. Every word of it. She had no reason to doubt him. However long it took to fulfill his promise, she knew Russell wouldn’t deviate from the course.

  She would never be able to breathe easily. And, more important, neither would Troy or any of his family. She couldn’t be responsible for that. Her own life she was more than willing to risk, but not theirs.

  She knew what she had to do.

  Something inside of her died.

  “All right.” Her own voice sounded hollow to her. “I’ll go back with you. As long as I have your word that you won’t harm any of them.”

  “Still the bleeding heart. Nice to know that some things don’t change. Don’t worry, I have no desire for a bloodbath.” Russell deliberately smirked at her. “All I want is what’s mine.”

  Delene took a breath. What was his, she knew, was revenge, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would exact it, perhaps even kill her.

  But death was preferable to being his wife. And all that really mattered to her was that Troy was safe.

  It was at that moment she realized just how much Troy had come to mean to her.

  She loved him.

  She couldn’t lose that, something inside of her cried frantically.

  She needed to stall, to think. There had to be a way out of this. A way to keep Russell from dragging her back. She began to cross toward the closet. “I’ll just throw some things together—”

  Catching her by the arm, Russell jerked her to him. “Leave everything here,” he ordered. “It’s all just cheap trash anyway. There’s nothing you have here that I can’t buy for you.”

  She raised her head defiantly, looking directly into his dark eyes. Russell was wrong. He couldn’t begin to buy or replace what she was leaving behind. Because she was leaving behind her heart, her happiness.

  But that was because she had to. Troy would be dead within hours if she didn’t.

  “All right,” she agreed with resignation framed in hatred. And then, because she just had to know how she’d slipped up, she asked, “How did you find me?”

  The smirk reappeared, as if to mock her ever thinking that she could get away. “I didn’t. Santangelo did. He was here on business, actually.” He left the details nebulous. He never talked about his employer’s affairs. “He was watching the news when he saw someone he thought looked like you. So he called me. I told him to make sure and call me when he was. He did.”

  The news. That awful cameraman outside of Clyde’s motel room—he was to blame for all this.

  And then she realized that she hadn’t been wrong, hadn’t been imagining it. There had been someone following her.

  God, she wished she had acted on that suspicion instead of shrugging it off to paranoia.

  Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after you, she thought cynically.

  Suddenly anxious to get going, Russell snapped. “Enough talk. Let’s go!”

  Just as he took hold of her arm, there was a knock on the door. He looked at Delene accusingly. “The second shift?” he asked insultingly.

  She was just waiting to get an unobstructed shot at him. To throw him on the ground and make him feel helpless, as helpless as she’d felt when his fists were pummeling her, “I don’t know who that is.”

  The second knock was more urgent. “Impatient,” Russell observed. “You must have gotten better in bed than I remember.”

  She hated the way he invaded her life, making everything she’d had with Troy seem so dirty. “If I did, it was because I had something better to work with.”

  Uttering a curse, he raised his hand to hit her. Then, as
if he realized that was what she wanted, that she had probably learned how to use his anger, not to mention his size, against him, Russell dropped his hand.

  The third knock was harder still. “Open it,” he ordered.

  But even as she moved to do so, Russell moved with her, his fingers wrapped around her upper arm. He wasn’t about to let her go free, not even for a second.

  ***

  Troy blew out a breath. Where was she? The loft wasn’t big enough for her not to hear him. Had she decided to go out? To take a walk in order to clear her head?

  He’d promised himself to stay away, at least for the night. He’d tried to convince himself that what she said was true. She needed her space. He’d almost gotten all the way home before he decided that she’d had space for five years; now she was going to have something to fill that space.

  For once in his life he wasn’t going to remain laid-back, he was going to push. Push in order to make her see just what she meant to him. He had to convince her through words, not silence, that he could give her a life that would make her forget everything that had come before.

  When she didn’t answer on the third knock, he gave serious thought to picking the lock. And then the door opened.

  “Hi, I—”

  All the words he’d rehearsed dried on his lips the moment he saw that there was someone else in the room with her.

  He felt like an idiot. Here he was, making plans and she’d had someone else all along.

  No, that wasn’t her. Delene wasn’t capable of that kind of deception. Not the woman he’d been with. He wasn’t, nor had he ever been, a poor judge of character. Certainly not as poor as that.

  He turned his attention away from the man and toward Delene. “Did I come at a bad time?”

  Russell tightened his hold on her arm. The smile on his lips was steely.

  “That all depends on your point of view,” he told Troy. “If you’re here to have sex with my wife, I’d say that you came at a very bad time. Matter of fact, there would never be a good time for that.”