"I know," she whispered. "But, please—"
"I can stall them for a little while. I'll tell them you called us but didn't give your location."
"Thank you!" she said in relief.
"Detective, how much ransom did they ask for?" Nick asked.
"A million dollars. Small potatoes for Joe Colton."
Liza nodded in agreement. "But I thought the man pursuing me meant she'd escaped," she said. "Do you really think the kidnappers have her?"
"I don't know. Maybe he came after you because your aunt knows Emily spoke to you about the accident."
"That doesn't make sense. But if that were true, then the woman Emily spoke to at the house would be in danger too."
"Her name?"
"Nora. She worked in the kitchen and was upset that Aunt Meredith had chastised her unfairly."
"Nora who?"
"Nora Hickman."
He looked at Nick. "May I use your phone?"
Nick nodded, and both he and Liza watched the policeman as he called the station and talked to the chief, asking him to check on the status of one Nora Hickman. Then he hung up. "He'll call me back here."
Nick spoke. "I do apologize for misleading you, Detective, but I was concerned for Liza's safety. Have the New York City police gone to her apartment?"
"Yeah. They knocked on the door and got no answer. They didn't have a search warrant, so they didn't take it any further."
"I'm sure Liza will give you permission for them to search the premises, to see if they can find fingerprints."
"Oh, yes. I'll even give you a key, if you want. Or I can call the doorman to tell him to let them in," Liza agreed.
"We can manage, as long as you write out something to go in the file. Uh, was your apartment in good condition when you left it?"
"Yes. I have a service that comes in to clean it when I leave town," she assured him.
"Right. I'll—"
The phone rang. Nick answered it and handed the receiver to the detective when the caller identified himself.
"Yeah? I see. Look, I've got permission to search Ms. Colton's apartment in New York. Can you contact the police there and have them do so? I'll have her permission on paper for the files." He listened, then said, "Yeah. She says she has a service come in and clean, so it should be tidy." More silence. "I'm on my way back now."
Detective Ramsey hung up and looked at the two of them. "Okay, we're having the NYPD check out the apartment. I'm going to contact the FBI and bring them up to date, but I don't think I'll have any difficulty keeping your location from your family."
"Why?" Nick asked, afraid of what was coming.
"Because Nora Hickman was killed in an accident, just before your cousin was kidnapped, Ms. Colton."
Liza's gaze filled with pain before she closed her eyes and slumped back against the sofa.
"It could be coincidence," Nick offered.
"Dr. Hathaway, in my business we don't see much coincidence. If we dig deep enough, there's always a reason, a connection. Ms. Colton has just provided the reason without even knowing it had happened."
The detective got to his feet. "I'm not saying you did the right thing keeping this secret, Ms. Colton, but I do understand why you did." He cleared his throat. "I'm not pressing charges against either one of you. But you keep yourself out of sight. Until we get to the bottom of what's going on here, you need to be careful."
Nick couldn't have put it better. And he was grateful the warning was coming from someone else.
Liza nodded but said nothing.
Nick stood to escort the detective to his front door. After they left Liza in the den, Ramsey muttered, "I'd guess you talked her into coming clean. Thanks."
"As long as you don't reveal her location, I'll be glad I did it. I don't want her hurt, though."
"I can understand that. She's a beautiful woman," Ramsey said with a sly grin. Before Nick could protest, the man stepped out the door. "You have any problems, let me know."
"I will," Nick agreed, but after he closed the door, he muttered, "Maybe."
* * *
Liza sat in stunned silence after she was left alone. Nora had been killed in an accident? The woman was in her fifties and had worked for the Coltons for years. As the detective had said, coincidence was too convenient.
She'd come so close to losing her own life too. She shivered and covered her face with her hands. What would she have done without Nick's generosity and support? She wasn't dumb, but she wasn't prepared for running, for fighting a man who had no qualms about killing women.
"Liza, are you all right?" Nick asked, his arms going around her.
She hadn't heard him come in. But though she was startled by his touch, her heart immediately swelled with warmth, with gratitude. Remembering the security she'd felt as she'd slept, she slid her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. "Nick, I—I owe you so much."
"Nonsense. Anyone would've done the same."
She lifted her face and looked at him, loving his blue eyes, his strong face, the cleft in his chin. "No, that's not true. Most people don't want to be involved if there's trouble."
He reached out and smoothed back her hair. "You would've managed, even if I hadn't offered, honey. You may look like a waif, but you're a strong woman. I was proud of you today."
His words made her feel strong. Aunt Meredith had said them many times, long ago. But since her loving aunt had disappeared, replaced by a cold stranger, no one had held her, praised her like that.
"Oh, Nick," she said a sigh. Then she did something she'd contemplated, something she'd warned herself against. But she couldn't help it.
She reached up and covered his lips with hers.
Nine
Patsy Portman was comfortable in the phone booth in a seedy neighborhood. She'd spent most of her life in less than elegant surroundings like these.
Meredith Colton was jittery, anxious.
The fact that they both occupied the same body made life difficult. For nine years, she'd portrayed Meredith Colton and reaped the benefits—a wealthy husband, a beautiful mansion, everything she wished for.
Except security.
Patsy's perfect plan had a few leaks….
Finally a rough voice answered the phone.
"Have you found her yet?" Patsy demanded, fury in her voice.
"Hell, woman, I've been looking. I can't help it if that bitch can run and hide like a pro."
"She's only twenty. You're the one who's supposed to be a pro. Did you find Liza?"
After a pause, he said, "Yeah. She don't know nothing."
Her voice hard and unyielding, Patsy yelled, "You're lying!"
"No, I'm not! I didn't talk to her myself, but I hired a friend. He talked to her, but a man showed up and he had to run."
"Have him find her again!"
"He tried! He went to New York, to her apartment. She wasn't there." He gave an evil chuckle. "But he'll find her. Bulldog don't give up."
"You stupid bastard! You'd better be right. I won't tolerate any screw-ups."
"Maybe they'll think it's a hoax, that the two worked together. They'll stop looking for me!"
"Looking for you? Why are they looking for you?"
More silence.
Patsy let out a stream of cussing learned during her shady past. Words Meredith had probably never heard. "Listen, you idiot! Be sure you keep the ransom safe, every penny of it, you hear me? Or yours will be the corpse next to Emily's. I'll call, get the money from you as soon as I can get away safely." She hated leaving it in that idiot's hands any longer than necessary.
She slammed down the receiver and exited the phone booth. In this part of town, no one looked at her. It wasn't safe to be too nosy here. Even if they traced the call to the phone booth, which was impossible, no one would expect Meredith Colton to even know about this side of town, much less visit it.
The only danger was someone seeing her car before she got to the freeway. She reached the car, g
ot in and eased out of the dark alley. No squealing tires. She didn't want to call attention to herself.
But damn, she wasn't going to lose her wealth, her position, because of a stupid bastard who couldn't follow orders. She'd kill him before she'd let that happen. She was so close to having it all.
Someone else was trying to save her the trouble of killing Joe. Then the money would really be hers. All of it.
She was so close.
And no one—not even Emily and Liza—was going to stop her.
* * *
Tuesday, Nick pulled into the driveway at what was now his normal time. Before Liza, he would linger at the office, tidying up any possible loose ends. Now he left those details to his staff.
Not that he was being careless. His staff was quite capable. He just hadn't had any personal demands that needed his attention.
Until Liza.
The eagerness he felt as he strode into the house alarmed him a little, but it didn't slow him down. "Hello, I'm home," he called.
Instead of Liza's beautiful voice, Bonnie greeted him from the kitchen.
"Where's Liza?" he demanded, his gaze circling the room.
"My day was fine, thank you," Bonnie replied.
It took a second for Nick to understand her sarcasm. "Oh, uh, yeah, Bonnie, how was your day? And where's Liza?"
The housekeeper chuckled, seemingly okay with his preoccupation with their houseguest.
"She's resting."
Nick frowned. "This late? Is she okay?"
"She may have overdone it a little."
"Doing what?"
"Raking leaves."
Nick's heart sped up. "Out front? You let her rake leaves in the front yard? Did anyone see her?"
"No, of course not. But she pleaded for something to do. So I let her rake leaves in the back. For such a little thing, she's a hard worker."
Nick knew Bonnie was comparing Liza with Daphne, who only would lift a hand to ring for Bonnie. She'd certainly never done yardwork. "She's tall."
Bonnie gave him a disgusted look. "Is that all you can say? Oh, and Nick, when I took her some iced tea to drink, she was singing!"
"Singing? She's not supposed to be using her voice!"
"No, not singing, just singing, you know, humming while she worked, occasionally singing words, but just…enjoying herself. It was magical."
Nick knew her voice was recovering as her body was getting rest and being properly fed. And the tension was lessening. It had increased Sunday, when Detective Ramsey had visited, but yesterday and today, there'd been no incidents or occurrences to remind her that she might be in trouble.
"So she's in her room?"
"Yes. And dinner's almost ready. You want to go get her?"
Oh, yeah! But he immediately dismissed that suggestion. It wasn't safe. When she'd thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him two days ago, he'd almost lost control. He'd almost broken his promise.
"No. Tell me what to do and I'll finish up here while you check on her. It might embarrass her if I wake her up."
Like it had embarrassed her when he'd pulled her arms from around his neck Sunday night. She'd thought he didn't want her to kiss him. What an innocent!
Last night, the first time they'd had any significant time alone after her kiss, she'd tried to avoid him. While her actions had hurt, he figured they'd been wise, so he hadn't said anything.
Instead he'd listed all the reasons any future didn't exist for the two of them.
Bonnie came down a few minutes later with Liza trailing her. Nick had already carried the baked chicken breasts, green beans and mashed potatoes to the table. Now he was waiting for the rolls to brown.
"Good evening, Liza. How are you?"
"Fine, thank you, Doctor," she said, but she didn't look at him.
"I hear you worked hard this afternoon."
That got her attention. She looked first at Bonnie, then at Nick. "Not really. I raked leaves for a while. I used to do a lot of gardening at Aunt Meredith's when I was young."
"It was kind of chilly out. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold." His gaze remained fixed on her beautiful features, studying her.
"I didn't."
After remaining silent, Bonnie asked, "Are the rolls done yet, Nick?"
He'd completely forgotten about the rolls since Liza came into the room. He hurriedly opened the oven door and snatched the bread pan out of the oven. The rolls weren't burned exactly, just a dark tan.
Avoiding the ladies' gazes, he muttered, "Right on time."
"If you like them crusty," Bonnie said with a grin.
Once they all sat down at the table, he said, "Bonnie mentioned you were singing today."
"Oh, lovey, I didn't mean to get you in trouble," Bonnie said at once, "but it was such a lovely sound, I had to tell Nick."
"Neither one of you is in trouble," Nick growled, irritated that his housekeeper was treating him like Liza's father. "I just wanted to know how singing made her throat feel."
"I didn't strain my throat. I kept it light, but it felt so good to finally be able to sound normal. I felt…blessed. Thank you for helping me get my voice back."
For the first time since Sunday, she gave him that brilliant smile of hers, one that could light the world. He figured that smile had as much to do with her sell-out concerts as her voice.
"After dinner would you sing something for me?" he asked. "I want to see if I hear any strain."
"Of course," she replied and he was relieved to see eagerness in her eyes.
During the rest of the meal he didn't question her again. She and his housekeeper chatted easily about the day's events. It was easy to see that the two ladies had an excellent rapport.
After they finished eating, Bonnie begged him not to let Liza sing until she'd cleaned the kitchen. Liza's response was to immediately assist in the cleanup, in spite of Bonnie's concern that she might be tired.
"Really, Bonnie, I only raked some leaves. It felt good to move around," Liza insisted.
Nick pitched in, too, and in no time the kitchen was spotless. Then he led the way into the living room where a piano his mother had occasionally played stood against one wall.
"I don't play well but…do you need some accompaniment?" he asked.
"I'll do it," she replied, no sign of nervousness in her.
"You play?"
"Oh, yes. I started with piano lessons, then added the violin and guitar. I'm not an expert at any of them, but I can get by."
She settled on the bench seat and struck a few keys before she looked at him over her shoulder. "What do you want to hear?"
He had no idea what to request. He looked at his housekeeper.
"What you were singing today, lovey? It's one of my favorites."
Liza's green eyes sparkled as she turned around, a smile on her face. Nick thought she'd never looked more beautiful.
"The hills are alive, with the sound of music…" she began in an incredible voice.
Nick was astounded. He'd heard good singers before, but she was more than good. Her voice was liquid silver, shimmering in the air, a sparkling melody that lifted his soul. Right here in his own living room.
The thought that this voice might've been lost to the world sent both fear and thanksgiving through him.
When she finished, he stared at her, unable to speak.
She waited, but he continued to stare.
"That bad?" she asked with a laugh.
Her question spurred him to respond. "That was incredible, Liza. I'd heard you were good, but you have the most fabulous voice."
"Oh, yes, lovey," Mrs. Bonnie added. "You're better than Julie Andrews."
Liza chuckled. "I don't think Miss Andrews is losing any sleep over me, Bonnie, but thank you. That's a lovely compliment."
Nick had told himself that he'd never have a future with Liza Colton. He was too old. He wanted a home, a family, neither of which her demanding travel schedule as an entertainer would allow. But deep inside him, he'
d still hoped, because the attraction he felt was so strong.
But Liza Colton, the fabulous singer Liza Colton, had just killed that persistent flicker of hope.
Her gift, her voice, was more powerful than his hopes and dreams. How could he deny the world the opportunity to hear her voice?
Even to him that thought seemed melodramatic, but he couldn't deny how moving her voice was. How much it separated their worlds.
He stood. "Well, continue to rest your voice as much as possible, Liza. You're almost well, but we don't want to rush it. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have some work to do."
And he left the room.
* * *
Both women stared after Nick's departing figure.
"Did I say something wrong?" Liza whispered, speaking to herself as much as Bonnie.
"No, lovey, you didn't. He's probably a little overwhelmed by your lovely voice. It truly is a gift."
Liza blinked several times. "It can be a curse, as well."
Bonnie looked surprised. "Whatever do you mean? Your voice is so special. Everyone must love you!"
"That's not love, Bonnie. They admire my voice. Or they want to profit from my voice. They want the fame my voice can bring, or the money it can earn. But love?" She tried to laugh but the sound was more like a sob. "Love isn't a part of the package."
Bonnie got up and came to the piano to hug Liza. "Lovey, there's more to you than your voice. You're a sweet person, giving and filled with the wonder of life. I can't imagine what monsters would covet your gift but not love you."
Liza rested in the older woman's arms, thinking how seldom she'd received such affection since her Aunt Meredith had changed. With a sniff and another attempt at laughter, she said, "You haven't met my mother."
* * *
The next day was Wednesday, the day Emily had promised to call. Liza was nervous all day, though the call was supposed to come between four and five. She helped Bonnie with household chores to pass the time, but she had so many things to worry about, it didn't offer much escape.
In addition to Emily's safety, she wondered where the man who'd come to the hospital had gone. She wondered if the New York City police had found anything at her apartment. The current Meredith worried her too. What would she try next?
The Doctor Delivers Page 9
