“Why didn’t you just leave then?”
“I did still love him.”
“But he killed that man, didn’t he? He admitted it to you?”
Angela nodded. “Yes. He admitted it. And I told him, ‘You shouldn’t be free.’ And he just grinned. He was guilty of murder. And I was living with him. And all his friends were criminals. Now that he knew I knew everything, he told me he would kill me if I didn’t keep my mouth shut. Next time his friends came over, Wayne locked me in the bedroom.”
“Couldn’t you escape?”
“I did think of getting in my car and just driving away, but it’s not that easy. Besides, he changed after they left. He was all charm. He said he’d got rid of them. He was going straight. He was going to try the marriage thing from the start once more. That I should show him how to act like a real husband, not like an animal. He was a different person.”
“We went out to restaurants together. He liked to spend money. He went on fishing trips, real fishing trips. He bought home fish and he cooked it for me. He is quite a good cook. He has a good imagination. He can be very creative when he wants to be. And he was being creative. With me. I knew down in my heart that he was conning me, and that he’d conned me all along. I’d been a way for him to get out of prison, an easy cover for him to live under when he was out.” Angela bowed her head. “I feel so damn stupid. So gullible. And I really don’t know where to go from now on.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
The floor director cut them there.
Angela wanted to leave right away. She’d promised Max she would see him.
“Are you sure you are safe?” Nick asked.
“Safer than I was six months ago, because I know the truth now. It gives me a certain power.”
“When this is aired, he’ll know,” Serena told her. “Things will burst open. You’ll be in danger.”
“I don’t think so. He never watches TV. That’s why I decided to go on as myself.”
“But because you decided to go on as yourself, that means you want something to happen,” Serena said.
“I want it to end. I had to get it all off my chest. I’ve shared it with someone.”
“A few million people,” Nick said.
She shrugged. “I’ve done it in style.”
She went then, and Nick and Serena returned to the studio to watch the interview. Angela’s revelations weren’t extraordinary, but behind every word was a scream for help.
Her scream stayed with Serena, and she felt very nervous about airing the show. She wished they could cancel it. She didn’t like what she’d started. But Nick seemed excited about Angela’s story. He was hoping to get Lawson put back in prison because of it. Serena couldn’t very well back down now. What kind of journalist would back down on a good story? One who liked happy endings. Herself.
She was even more nervous on Thursday evening than she’d been throughout her entire career. Her stomach felt tied in knots. She shared dinner with Nick, but she didn’t eat any of her chicken. Nick polished it off for her.
They took a cab back to Steel TV. “I have stage fright,” she told him.
“To which you are entitled. I’m just hoping this won’t put Angela in any danger.”
She felt the same way. She knew that this story had come about because she had wanted to stay one step ahead of Nick. She hadn’t wanted him to consider her a lousy journalist. She hoped she hadn’t been too selfish in her motives for pushing her friend to do the interview.
The program was edited with surreal clips of jail life, using an actor for Angela’s husband. It was a decisive interview, and Serena was pleased with the result, so she was surprised the next day when the Neon Nights edition made little news. Serena went off to perform a pre-Christmas tea pouring, trusting that the interview would be a catharsis for Angela, nothing more.
•
Nick’s parents’ were looking through a number of real estate listings. One bungalow was part of a retirement home complex, and Nick was pushing for that. Medical staff were on call, and there was a recreation room. He knew his parents weren’t sociable, but they might be forced to be if they had the means at their disposal. After dealing with his parents, Nick drove home in the dark with a touch of snow brushing the windshield. Feeling tired, and knowing he had to stay alert for the slippery streets, he pushed the radio button as he stopped at a traffic light.
“She was interviewed this week by Serena Brown on the public affairs show Neon Nights. Serena is the daughter of Reeva Brown-Carstairs, who made her resignation from politics known on the same program. In other news …”
Nick punched buttons. What the hell was happening? Why was Serena on a news cast? Come on, someone give him the whole story. No wonder he disliked five second, blabbermouth news. You missed the item and it was gone forever. He didn’t even have a computer at his disposal.
He heard nothing for the rest of the way home. He parked the car, rushed upstairs and turned on his computer and the TV. Nothing on the internet. On the TV were sitcoms, international news, cop shows, hospital shows. Steel TV. The real news. Evening news anchor Paula Tatchkoff was babbling about something that wasn’t what Nick wanted to know. His cell phone rang.
“Yes.”
“It’s Serena, Nick. I’ve just arrived at Steel. We have to go down to Niagara. Angela’s being held hostage by Lawson. The police think you and I might be able to help. I had a feeling this might happen. It’s my fault.”
“Cut that crap for a start, sweetie. I’ll be right there. Grab a van.”
“We’ve got one. Paul’s driving.”
•
The first snow of the season was storming in over the Great Lakes on a weather front from the Ohio Valley. It caused a tie up on the Niagara section of the
Queen Elizabeth Way right down to the U.S. border. Serena sat beside Paul in the front. Nick was in the back, and she knew Nick was restless and would rather be driving. He leaned his arms on the back of her seat and she could feel the tension in him. But Paul was skilled in snow. He detoured the freeway on a back road that was treacherous but absent of heavy traffic.
Because of the insistent snow fall, Angela’s road had narrowed to one lane. Paul negotiated the van to where there was a mass of police cars and flashing lights. An ambulance and a fire engine stood waiting to perform any emergency services that might be needed.
Steel TV was already there. Juliette, in a purple leather coat with a big fur collar, was doing the reporting. “To bring you up to date on what is happening. Angela Thomson, the wife of alleged killer Alan Wayne Thomason, who is also known as Lawson Thomson, is being held hostage by her husband. This hostage taking has allegedly come about because of last night’s interview on Neon Nights. Hosts of the show, Serena Brown and Nick Fraser, are on the scene now. It is known that Serena is a personal friend of the victim.”
“A great friend I am,” Serena murmured as they prepared for a briefing by the police.
A slim man with a moustache, Detective Smith, told them, “He’s telling us that he’s been victimized by his wife and that she misrepresented him on TV last night. He insists he isn’t a murderer. He wants a public apology from his wife, which she won’t give, and he will let her go when, and only when, he’s assured he won’t be re-arrested. He has to be a free man.”
“How can we reassure him of that?” Serena asked. “He’s going to be arrested, isn’t he?”
“He’ll have charges pending for this hostage incident.”
“I just want you to get her out of there.”
“That’s what we’re trying to do, Ms. Brown. Don’t think we want a dead woman on our hands.”
Nick put his hand on her shoulder. “True, Serena.”
She glared at him. “This is your fault.”
“It was your idea.”
“I know. But you pushed me. I wouldn’t have bothered to execute it if I hadn’t felt I needed to be better than bett
er.”
He shook his head. “That’s your personality. I can’t help that. But right now, we have Angela in that house, in danger.”
Detective Smith said, “He’s phoning from the house every once in a while. Next time he calls, I want Ms. Brown to talk to him. Tell him that if he brings Angela out then negotiations will be made, but not until his wife is safe.”
The snow stopped and the night grew silent, eerie. The flashing lights of the vehicles floated across the sky and the air grew crisp. Serena tightened the scarf around her neck.
Juliette stomped her booted feet beside her.
“Well, it’s very quiet in there,” Juliette said. “Do you think she’s still alive?”
“She better be,” Serena snapped.
“Okay. Don’t get your back up at me. It wasn’t me who interviewed her.”
The detective’s phone rang. It was Lawson or Alan. The phone was handed to Serena.
“Let her go, Alan. She’s only ever tried to help you.”
“You don’t believe that garbage she spilled on your show, do you?” It was the droning hypnotic voice from the answering machine.
“Alan, let her go and then we will negotiate for your release.”
“I don’t believe a word you say, you smiley bitch.”
The phone went dead. She sighed and handed the detective his phone. “I want to talk to him again.”
They waited. Some more press arrived from surrounding cities. A TV crew from Buffalo, New York, grilled the police. Serena wanted to rush in and save Angela, like some super heroine in a movie, but she knew she would only put Angela’s life in more danger. She shivered and pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her quilted jacket.
The phone rang again. Serena spoke to Alan once more, but he had the same clear needs. Release, no more prison terms, and he’d let Angela free. They went to sit in the van with the heater blasting. The temperature was sliding down into the night. Serena became fascinated by watching the cold air curl over the area. Lights still flashed. People’s breath rose white. She thought it was breath or steam. Then she realized it was smoke coming from the house.
“It’s on fire,” she said, and leapt from the van. She heard Paul and Nick coming after her. Paul had his camera going.
It was chaos, sirens, people running, fire engines emptying hoses into the burning house. Angela was brought out by a fireman. She was wrapped in a blanket and ushered into an ambulance, which took off as fast as the snow would allow.
Serena waited for Alan Wayne Thomason to appear but he never did.
Chapter Nineteen
There was little snow in Toronto. A few streaky lines of white alongside the curbs and a chill wind. Serena shivered as Paul parked in the Steel lot, and Nick gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She shook her head at him.
“What did I start?”
“A news story.”
They went up to the fifth floor news room. The station was staying on air tonight, to keep viewers up-to-date on the hostage taking. All the monitors flashed pictures of the scene they had left at Angela’s house. Serena saw Angela being taken to hospital. She pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, prepared to stay for the night, if she had to. “Any news on how she is?”
“Nothing yet,” she was told by Melissa. “Do you want coffee or hot chocolate? I’m taking orders.”
“Hot chocolate sounds wonderful.”
Serena glanced over to where Nick was working with Paul, who had some extra pictures from the incident. Nick was intent on helping Paul and she realized that he loved his work. He loved getting his hands dirty with gritty news. Besides, it was Nick who had been the catalyst for her own changes. Nick who had forced her to face her father’s desertion. Nick who had taken away her loneliness and replaced it with joy. Nick who had urged her to stretch herself away from safe news. If nothing ever came of their relationship, she would always remember him. And love him. Deeply.
Melissa returned with the cups of chocolate. Serena perched on a stool and sipped the hot, creamy liquid.
“We’re going to run a news break,” a man called out.
Juliette was still outside the burned out wreck of the house. Her face was beginning to look very cold and pinched. “We’ve had a report that Angela Thomson is out of danger. She has been treated for smoke inhalation and a few minor burns to her body. There has been no word on Alan Wayne Thomason also known as Lawson Thomson. There have been reports that someone was seen running from the rear of the house, but that has been unconfirmed. The fire department is going in to sift through the wreckage. To give you more in-depth knowledge of this case we have an interview with Angela’s mother, Gwyneth Evans.”
“Her mother,” Serena said. “Trust her to come on to the scene now. All she wants is fame, I suppose.”
Nick perched beside her and peeled off the lid of his own chocolate. “They’ll come out of the woodwork now. How do you feel?”
“I want a conclusion. I want to know what the hell has happened to Alan.”
“He might be dead.”
“Then should I feel guilty because Angela was my friend and now she has no home or husband?”
“It was Angela’s choice.”
Serena rubbed her forehead. “Yes. I suppose. But she still cared about him on some level. I know you don’t know about that type of caring, but I felt that she really did love him.”
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“I’m not, but I’ll always feel responsible.”
The news became a re-run of the night’s events. Angela wasn’t speaking until she’d been interviewed by the police.
Nick suggested they go to his apartment for the rest of the night. He could tell Serena was reluctant to leave the television station but she looked worn out and he was beginning to get concerned for her.
•
Serena used the adjoining bathroom to his bedroom, where she kept some of her things, so Nick went along to the other one. When he returned she was tucked into the bed. He slipped in naked beside her and turned off the lamp. For a few seconds they lay beside one another, and he could hear her light breathing. Then her breathing became more agitated and turned into sobs.
He was surprised to hear her cry. She wasn’t a woman to cry very often. Tears weren’t one of her weapons. So when she cried, the hurt must be from deep inside her. He turned to her, and she came to his arms and he felt her tears dampen his bare shoulder.
He stroked her back. “It’s okay.”
She raised her face to his and he kissed away the tears. When he reached her mouth, her lips clung to his, the way she’d always clung to him since the first kiss in her kitchen on the night of Don’s soirée. He couldn’t resist her when she was so eager, and he let her move astride his body. He found her beautiful, sad and frustrated with the agony of the night, and his hands rode down over her breasts to her undulating hips. Serena let out strangled sobbing sounds and she took him before he took her. Then he rolled her over and poured his own frustration and a lot of love into her.
When Serena awoke, her head felt as if someone had pounded it with a hammer. Nick wasn’t beside her. She flung her arm across his empty pillow and gazed out of the apartment window at the silver sky.
She heard Nick on the phone in the other room. When he came to the bedroom door, his face was unshaven and he was wearing jeans and an old gray sweatshirt. He held the cordless phone in his hand. “Angela’s doing fine. Max is with her at the hospital. The police have set up an interview with her later. Steel TV is making a big thing of our ordeal, but everywhere else it’s getting a small mention.”
Serena sat up in bed and reached for a scarlet flannel shirt of Nick’s she used when she stayed with him. She pushed her arms into it and climbed out of bed. “What about Alan?”
“They found his body in the wreckage.”
“Oh, poor Angela. Do you think he set the fire?”
“Who knows. Nobody is saying too much until Angela has said her piece.”
> A hot shower eased Serena’s headache. She stood beneath the spray feeling terrible. She was with Nick and she loved him so much, but she knew he wasn’t going to last. She was pleased Angela was safe, but she would always remember the terrifying situation she had put her friend into. Angela’s husband was dead, the man Angela had loved for a long part of her life. Serena pushed her fists into her eyes and let the tears well behind her fingers. Then she just leaned against the shower wall and cried until there was nothing left.
Nick went into Steel with Serena that afternoon but he didn’t feel as if they were together any more. She was very cool and self-contained. He couldn’t equate her with the naked, sobbing woman in his arms this morning in bed. He never knew quite how desperate was his love for her until she began to slip away from him.
When they reached the suite Don was there, thrilled with all the publicity the Angela story had brought Steel.
“You can provide the dramatics next time,” Serena informed Nick.
He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re not going to have any more story ideas.”
She touched her neck beneath her upswept hair. “No. But I’ll be more careful.”
“Careful has no edge.”
“I don’t like living on the edge. Maybe it’s okay for you. You’re used to it. But I’m used to having my life under control.”
“When did you come up with this? You were losing control last time I saw you.” He’d noticed that her makeup had been applied with extra care to hide red swollen eyes.
“I just had to get a few things out of my system. I think I’ll go down to five to see what’s happening.”
Nick let her go. One day, he was going to have to learn how to let her go forever.
•
Angela’s interview proved dramatic. Gradually the newscasts pared down her comments to: “He was smoking and he lit his cigarettes with a butane lighter. He put the lighter down when he was on the phone and I grabbed it. Another time he was on the phone I snapped the lighter and threw it at the curtains. He was furious. He began to scream curses at me. But the house was burning, the smoke got too much and I—don’t remember much more.”
Heart in the Field Page 25
