Liza shook her head. "I don't have a choice, Bonnie. Tell him…everything is my fault. You tried to convince me not to come today. And—" There was so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't. "Tell him thank you." She hugged Bonnie, feeling like she was leaving her mother.
Then she slipped from the room, leaving Bonnie inside with tears in her eyes.
* * *
Nick had left his office early because he had a patient in the hospital whom he needed to check on. He thought about Bonnie working there today and thought he'd stop by afterward to see if she was still at work. He smiled. Maybe she was discovering she enjoyed little ones so she'd be enthusiastic when he convinced Liza to stay with him, to have a future, with a lot of kids. He smiled as he hurried to his patient, eager to return to Liza.
When he reached the nursery, he opened the door. There were only a couple of children left waiting for their parents. But what immediately caught his eye was Bonnie, sitting in a rocker, another lady patting her shoulder as she cried.
"Bonnie! What happened?"
"Oh, Nick, I'm so sorry! I thought it would be all right, but the wig came off, and those reporters were all over her. She said it would be okay. No one would pay any attention, but—but they sold the story to national television—and Liza left!"
Nick's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe it. She wouldn't leave without talking to him. Besides, she was supposed to be back at the house.
"Of course she didn't leave, Bonnie. She's at home."
Bonnie sadly shook her head.
"But—but she came here?"
Bonnie nodded.
Even so, he protested again. "She wouldn't leave. She was probably trying to throw everyone off the trail. She'll be at home, waiting for us. Come on, let's go. She's probably scared."
He took Bonnie's hand and pulled her from the day care center out to the parking lot and his car.
He got Bonnie inside and hurried out of the parking lot, praying he was right, that Liza would be home waiting for them.
It was the only way he could keep from falling apart.
* * *
Much to the reporter's disgust, the only information Liza gave him was that she'd enjoyed her stay in the hotel. She figured that could only help the hotel. Other than that, she used her credit card to buy a ticket to New York, and refused any other questions. Then she disappeared into a special lounge until the flight was called.
The airline personnel loaded all the other passengers on the plane. Then, at the last minute, Liza took her seat.
Thank goodness she'd taken her purse to the day care with her. She'd considered leaving it at Nick's, assuming she wouldn't need anything, but something had made her decide at the last minute to carry it.
When the short flight to New York was over and she'd picked up the luggage she'd sent when she'd first gone to Nick's, she hurried from the airport, grabbing a taxi and getting away.
She went to her apartment at once, greeting the doorman, excusing herself from answering his questions. In her apartment, she checked everything. Then she exchanged a few things for what she had in the suitcase and donned a wig her mother had insisted she buy when she cut her hair. It was approximately her hair color but it was long. Liza took the time to braid the long hair, taking away its fullness.
In jeans and a T-shirt, she hoped she'd blend into the crowds. Her bank was only a few stops from her apartment. She managed to get there before it closed and withdrew a large amount of money.
Then she checked into a modest hotel, using the name Liza Bonney. Once she was shown to her room, she tipped the bellhop and locked the door behind him.
Then she collapsed on the bed and shed the tears she'd been holding back ever since she'd left Saratoga Springs. Tears that mourned her departure, her loss of Nick, her loss of Bonnie, her loss of all that mattered.
* * *
Nick was furious.
Liza wasn't at his home, waiting for him. Running into his embrace, her lips raised for a kiss.
Bonnie tearfully confessed what had happened. Nick couldn't rail at her. She'd made mistakes, but Liza had insisted. Nick himself hadn't been very good at resisting Liza, and Bonnie hadn't really understood the situation. He should've told her.
But Liza…she knew. She risked what they'd had, knowing how dangerous it was. Knowing how much he—She had to have known how much he loved her. And she destroyed it.
As his anger eased, the ache in his heart took over. And the fear. He wanted to know she was safe. He wanted to know where to find her. He called her apartment and left a message for her to call him.
Sleep didn't come easily that night. When he got up to go to the office, he couldn't help remembering waking up with Liza beside him. Her clothes still hung in his closet. Her toiletries were in his bathroom. Her scent was still on his bedsheets.
Bonnie wouldn't even meet his gaze, just as she hadn't the day before. There was no mystery today. He knew what was going on.
"Bonnie, it's not your fault," he finally said. "I hadn't warned you how—how serious the situation was."
"But I knew you wouldn't like it," she said with a sniff.
Nick shook his head. "I wish—Maybe I am a little dictatorial. I should have told you the truth so you could make the right decision, instead of expecting absolute obedience. So I share the blame. Don't worry. We'll find her. She'll be safe."
He had no taste for breakfast, so he hurried out, hoping work would take his mind off Liza. He'd talked to Detective Ramsey last night, and the man had promised to let him know if they had any word from Liza.
Because he'd skipped breakfast, he got to work half an hour early, startling his office staff.
"Oh, Doctor," his nurse called as she heard him come in. She rushed into his office. "You just missed a call from Ms. Colton!"
"Where is she? Did she leave a number?"
"No, sir. She said to tell you she was fine, that was all."
"Damn it, Missy, why didn't you ask for a number?" Nick shouted. The stunned look on his nurse's face brought him back to reality. "Sorry, Missy, I—I was worried about her."
"Yes, sir. Did you know she was still here? I had no idea. I can't believe she stayed at the hotel without telling anyone? There's a big article in the paper, on the front page. Did you know?"
Nick wanted to shout that yes, he knew. She was his. She'd been in his house, in his arms, in his bed. But he couldn't. That would be foolish. "Uh, no. I saw her at the hotel, so maybe there's nothing else to know."
"How exciting!" She sighed. "I knew she couldn't have been staying with you, or you would've gotten me that autograph. Oh, well. Maybe she'll come back and I'll get another chance."
"I hope so," he assured her. Then he picked up the patient charts waiting on his desk for his morning appointments, hoping Missy would take the hint.
When she'd gone, he called Detective Ramsey. "Have you heard anything?" he asked at once.
"Have you?"
"She called my office before I got here. Said she was all right, but she didn't leave a number."
"The NYPD went to her apartment. The doorman said she showed up there, in a hurry. But he didn't see her leave. He went up with the officers and knocked on the door, but she didn't answer. The doorman decided to open the door for them because he was worried about her. There were signs of hurried packing, but she wasn't there."
Nick sighed in frustration. "You think that man will be back?"
"Yeah. The police are staking out the apartment."
"Good. Keep me informed," he said before hanging up.
Nick stared blindly across his office. He hadn't intended to let Liza go. He'd believed he could hold her close, protect her, keep her forever. But in a split second, she'd gone.
With a dispirited sigh, he called Bonnie. He knew she was worried. He had to let her know that Liza had called.
"But why didn't she call here?" Bonnie asked, tears in her voice.
"Because she didn't want us to know where she was," h
e answered harshly, unhappy to admit that out loud. "Look, Bonnie, she's safe. She's not dumb. She knows how serious her situation is."
"I miss her," Bonnie sobbed.
"Yeah, me, too." And he hung up the phone. Miss her? What an understatement. He was having difficulty breathing.
He'd thought he'd loved Daphne when he'd married her. But he hadn't loved her even half as much as he loved Liza. By the time the marriage went sour, he hadn't cared at all.
But he knew he'd long for Liza for the rest of his life. For a few days, that dream of a happy family had burned brightly in his heart.
But as long as Liza was missing, that dream was dead.
There would never be anyone else but her.
Fourteen
The next morning Liza dressed and went out to find a coffee shop near the hotel. Having learned her lesson about skipping meals, she forced herself to eat, but her plate was still half full when she paid her bill and slipped out to mingle with the crowds on the street.
She hopped on a bus, not even caring where it was going. She had to call Bonnie, to be sure Nick didn't blame his housekeeper for what had happened. Fifteen blocks later, she got off and found a pay phone.
"Bonnie?" she said when the housekeeper answered. "It's Liza."
"Lord have mercy, I know that, lovey! Where are you? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Nick didn't—He didn't get upset with you, did he?"
"No, lovey, he was wonderful. He blamed himself for not telling me how serious everything was. He's such a good man. And he wants to talk to you."
Liza held back a sob. "I—I can't, Bonnie. I'd start crying. He would only worry. I promise I'm all right. Maybe—maybe after that man is caught, I can come for a visit."
"You call us if you need anything, you hear? Anything at all. Call us whenever you want."
"I will."
Then she took the lonely ride back to her hotel. Nearby, she found a store and bought some paper and pens so she could continue to write her music. It was the only thing that would keep her from going crazy.
* * *
Nick had thought the worst had occurred when Liza left, but he learned differently the next morning.
When he came downstairs for breakfast, Bonnie had a strange look on her face.
"What's wrong?"
She nodded to the paper beside his plate.
He sat down and was reaching for it when the doorbell rang.
"Sit down," Bonnie said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We're not answering it."
Nick sank back into his chair, staring openmouthed at his gentle, kind housekeeper. "Why?"
She nodded to the newspaper again. "You'll see."
He unfolded the paper to stare at his own picture, alongside a publicity shot of Liza.
"Now do you understand?" Bonnie asked.
"They found out Liza stayed here?"
"Yes, and there's several reporters on the lawn."
"Damn!" Nick got up and lifted one slat of the blinds to peer outside. Bonnie was right. There were several men with cameras leaning against their cars. He walked back to the phone and dialed Detective Ramsey's number.
"Detective, there are some reporters on my lawn. Can anything be done?"
"Well, sir, we can move them to the sidewalk. That's the best we can do. You might want to talk to them, tell them she stayed to get well and then left. And you have no knowledge of her present location. That might get rid of them faster than anything I can do."
Nick thanked him. After explaining to Bonnie what he was going to do, he followed the detective's suggestion. To his surprise, after several persistent questions, to which he gave the same answer, he returned to the house and watched from the window as they drove away.
Then he sat down. "Is breakfast ready?"
"You want to eat?" his housekeeper asked in surprise.
"Of course I want to eat."
"It's ready," she said and took a filled plate out of the oven. "Aren't you going to read the article?"
"Since the title says 'Famous Singer in Love Nest with Doctor', I doubt if it would make me feel good." He took a bite of eggs and chewed steadily, wondering why they tasted like cardboard.
Bonnie sat down at the table to eat also, remaining silent. She'd told him last night about Liza's call.
About her refusal to talk to him. He'd tossed and turned all night, his stomach filled with something like battery acid.
He hoped Liza wouldn't see this article. Hopefully, the New York papers had more important things to cover than some sleazy story. He hoped his neighbors wouldn't read it either.
An hour later, he knew everyone he'd ever known had read it. Because it seemed they all tried to call him.
Nick sighed. He could live with that. After all, things couldn't get much worse, so he'd simply wait it out.
Until Missy appeared at the door of his office. "Doctor, there's a lady on the phone demanding to talk to you."
"No calls, Missy."
"But she says she's your ex-wife."
Okay, so maybe things could get worse. "Okay, Missy, what line is she on?"
"Line three, Doctor." Then she withdrew, closing the door behind her.
"Daphne, what do you want?" he growled into the phone.
"Well," she huffed, "it's nice to hear your voice, too, Nick, darling."
He didn't respond.
"You're not being very friendly," she went on.
"You've got five seconds before I hang up."
"If you want to see your son, you won't do that."
Nick's heart double-clutched. "My what?"
"Do you remember that last time we shared a romantic moment?"
He remembered. They'd had separate rooms for six months, until she'd slipped into his room late one night and seduced him.
His reaction wasn't what she expected. The next morning he'd told her he was divorcing her.
"I remember," he finally said.
"Well, we created little Timmy. He's three years and two months old. Can you add, darling?"
Nick felt as if he'd been broadsided. A child? But how could he be sure. It was Daphne, after all. He couldn't trust her—not before, not now. "Has he been tested?" he asked. "I'll give my DNA to a clinic to be sure."
"You doubt me?" She sounded affronted. "You think I'd lie about something this important?"
"Why not? You've been lying to me for years."
"Darling, you were angry with me. I thought I'd wait until you cooled off. But I didn't expect you to find someone else. You've kept to yourself all this time."
Like a lightbulb going off in his head, Nick now knew what had provoked her call. Daphne didn't want him, but she didn't want anyone else to have him.
But he had no intention of accepting her word for anything. She'd lied too many times, in particular about her activities while married to him. There had been men, a number of men.
He wanted proof.
"Well, if you insist, we'll do the testing, darling, but it takes time, and I've already visited with a charming reporter this morning. I'm afraid you may lose patients when they realize you're not taking responsibility for your own child."
"Damn you, Daphne, there will be tests. And if they show the child is mine, I'll pay child support. But I don't want you in my life in any way."
"So you've fallen for the little songbird? Isn't she a little drab? You could do better, darling."
"No, I couldn't. And, Daphne, if the test shows someone else is the father, you'll hear from my lawyer for defamation of character." Then he slammed down the phone.
And buried his face in his hands.
* * *
Liza found the article buried on page nine of the New York Post. Her publicity photo was beside a picture of Nick. Wanting to keep his picture, she called down to the desk to borrow a pair of scissors. While she waited for the bellhop, she scanned the article.
And stopped breathing.
Nick had a son? A son he didn't know about? And his ex-wife wanted to r
eunite with him?
When the bellhop knocked on the door, Liza answered it, not even aware tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"Miss, are you all right?"
"Fine," she said with a gulp. She handed him a tip and took the scissors, closing the door while he still stood there.
Finally she admitted to herself that she'd hoped to return to Nick when it was safe. She'd hoped he'd marry her, even though they couldn't have children. Maybe he'd consider adoption. She'd lulled herself to sleep for the past four days by telling herself they still had a future.
But Nick already had a child. And a chance to teach him to fish. To share the important moments in life with him. To provide a real home, a mother and a father.
She couldn't lie to herself anymore. There was no future for her and Nick.
Loud knocking on the door distracted her. "Ma'am? Ma'am, please open the door! Ma'am?"
She couldn't imagine what was wrong, but she opened the door after looking through the peephole. It was the hotel manager.
"Yes?"
"Ma'am, are you all right?" The man was staring at her, his eyes darting from her feet to her head, a frantic look on his face.
"I'm fine," she assured him and tried to close the door.
"Ma'am, are you aware you're crying?"
"Of course I'm crying," she snapped, unable to think of anything but Nick.
"But you said you were all right."
"I am! Just leave me alone!"
Again she tried to slam the door, but the man stuck in his foot. "Uh, ma'am, have you finished with the scissors?"
"That's what your visit is about? You need the scissors back?"
"No, ma'am…but when a person is upset…well, there's no telling what they'll do."
Liza stared at him. Then all of a sudden she realized what the manager was saying: he was afraid she'd commit suicide with his scissors.
"I'm not—Here are your damn scissors," she snapped, grabbing the scissors and slapping them into his hands. "Now, go away!"
"So sorry," he murmured, backing out of the room.
She slammed the door successfully this time and collapsed back on the bed. Then she had a long talk with herself, reminding herself of the promise she'd made days ago: she'd walk away from Nick, allow him to have his dream of children.
The Doctor Delivers Page 14
