Willie inhaled the meth, closing his eyes while feeding on the sensation. He opened them and studied the gun beside him in the couch. He grabbed it and aimed, pretending to shoot Clyde right between the eyes.
Chapter Thirty-five
After driving around in circles, Trey found himself in his own driveway. He really didn’t know what the hell to say to Ivana, still stung by her revelation of having a one-night fling with Clyde. Trey wanted to hate her the way he did Clyde for betraying him in the worst way possible. But he couldn’t. Not when Ivana was the love of his life and someone he couldn’t ever imagine living without.
I still love her, no matter what she’s done. I think she still loves me, in spite of what happened between her and Clyde.
Trey blamed himself for destroying the sanctity of their marriage by straying. He had opened the door for Ivana to seek the attention of another man after she’d lost her trust in him, and thereby her desire to be loyal to him intimately.
I don’t want to lose the best thing to ever happen to me. I just can’t. We’ll find a way together to get past the indiscretions and distrust.
Trey headed toward the house, so intense in thought that he never even noticed Ivana’s car wasn’t there.
Inside the house, he expected to find his wife frazzled, not particularly eager to see him after the way he’d handled things. Or unsure if he would still want her. But Ivana was nowhere to be found. Trey considered that she may have gone ahead without him and checked herself into rehab, perhaps believing that was more preferable than having to face him again.
But he found Ivana’s bag still in her room. Where the hell was she?
Trey looked out the window and noticed that her car was gone. Damn. Considering her fragile state of mind and having had at least one drink and likely more, panic set in.
He found Emily in the great room, watering plants with headphones on, no doubt listening to the classical music she loved.
When Trey got her attention, Emily removed the headphones. She could see the concern etched in his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Ivana?”
Emily flashed a blank stare. “I don’t know. I didn’t see her leave.”
“Her car’s not in the driveway,” Trey said, ill at ease. “I’m going after her. Please call me if Ivana comes back.”
Emily’s forehead crinkled. “Tell me what happened, Trey.”
“We had a fight,” he responded, leaving it at that. “And I have to find her, let Ivana know that it’s not the end of the world. Or at least our world.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Emily said. “She probably just needed to clear her head.”
Trey doubted it was that simple. He feared that Ivana, despondent and probably inebriated, might do something crazy. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
“Search the house and see if she left a note or anything,” Trey instructed Emily, not wanting to waste precious time doing so himself. “Oh, and ring the detox center, just in case Ivana decides to check herself in.”
He ran out the door, hopped in his car and sped off, praying that Ivana hadn’t wrapped her car around a tree.
Or worse.
Ivana tried to stay focused on the road through tear-filled eyes and a mind gripped by guilt and misgivings. She could no longer stay in that house where she was apparently no longer wanted. Trey made it perfectly clear how he felt about her. It seemed as though he was the only one capable of making mistakes in their marriage. She was somehow held to a higher standard than Trey held himself.
It wasn’t fair. She had frailties just like anyone else. Getting involved with Clyde was probably the biggest mistake of her life and one she would forever regret. But she couldn’t undo the damage.
I’m sorry, Trey. Even sorrier that it was Clyde. I doubt you’ll ever forgive me, because I’ll probably never forgive myself.
Ivana wiped away tears, not sure where she was headed, knowing only that she wanted to go somewhere far away from the life she knew. She just wanted to feel loved and protected. And not consumed with things that no longer mattered.
She prayed that Trey and Clyde had not killed each other. Clyde had not responded to her message, leaving Ivana to wonder. Maybe in the end they realized they were brothers and needed each other more than not.
Leaving me out in the cold as the scarlet wife.
It was a tag Ivana could not live with. She took a deep breath and pondered what else might be out there for her, believing that she no longer had a home or husband to go back to.
Chapter Thirty-six
After searching high and low for Ivana without success for more than an hour, Trey was consumed with fear for her safety. He’d tried her cell phone, but she wouldn’t pick up. Or couldn’t.
He phoned a friend who worked for the Paradise Bay Police Department. Trey knew that it took more than a couple of hours of a person’s absence for one to be declared missing. But he was desperate, and his friend, Eric Cordell, owed him a favor after Trey had given him a great deal on a car for his college-bound daughter.
“This is Detective Cordell.”
“Hello, Eric. It’s Trey Lancaster.”
“Hey, Trey. Calling to offer me another bargain, this time for my youngest daughter?”
“Not exactly.” Trey composed himself. “My wife’s missing. . . .”
“Really? Missing, like how?”
“I think she might have run away,” Trey gulped sadly.
“Oh, yeah? Tell me what happened.”
Trey told only what he felt was necessary to get him to look into her disappearance.
Five minutes later, Cordell said, “I’ll see if we can locate your wife’s car. I’ll also check to see if she’s taken a plane, train, or bus out of town.”
Would Ivana have gone that far to leave the city? And go where—to London, to be with her friend, Naki?
Trey realized the detective was bending the rules on his behalf. “Thanks, Eric. I really appreciate this.”
“No problem. I’ll let you know as soon as we have something. And I wouldn’t worry too much, though I know that’s easier said than done. Chances are Ivana will show up safe and sound. And then you can deal with the issues between you.”
“I hope so,” Trey said, though less than convinced. Ivana was in a particularly vulnerable state right now, meaning he wouldn’t feel comfortable ’til his wife was home where she belonged. Then they could indeed work out their issues faceto-face.
The last person Clyde expected to show up at his door was Trey. His brother looked worn down and Clyde’s first thought was that Trey was there to punch his lights out again.
“Ivana’s gone,” Trey said glumly.
Clyde glanced at Stefani, who had opened the door and reluctantly allowed Trey to enter. “What do you mean, gone?”
“She left the house after I came to see you. No note, no nothing. I’m afraid Ivana could be hurt somewhere . . . or otherwise unable to contact me.”
“You have any idea where she might have gone?” Clyde asked, somewhat shocked that Ivana had apparently left Trey high and dry. On the other hand, he had seen this building for some time. Only Trey seemed to be clueless for the most part. Clyde hated that his actions had only deepened the division between Trey and Ivana, leading to her driving off and his estrangement with his brother. Pushing aside their differences, Clyde felt for Trey, realizing it couldn’t have been easy for him to swallow his pride and reach out after their last meeting.
“Could be anywhere,” Trey replied forlornly. “She doesn’t have a whole lot of friends in Paradise Bay, and no other family.”
Clyde looked down at him sympathetically. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” He glanced at Stefani. “We both will.”
Stefani reiterated that. “I can call my uncle, and he can call whoever he knows to help look for Ivana.”
“We’ll find her,” Clyde said definitively and thought about Ivana’s warning left on his voice mail, which he’d l
istened to too late to prepare himself for Trey’s wrath.
Clyde was more than a little concerned, knowing Ivana was prone to alcohol abuse and probably under the influence wherever she was. That could spell trouble, if she ran into it. He suspected Trey was aware of this as well, seeing that that man had lived with Ivana ’til now. But Clyde didn’t want to let on his fears in this regard, only making matters worse as his brother went in search of a runaway wife.
Trey gave him a hopeful look. “I’m counting on that.”
Clyde grabbed his keys, deciding that Trey was probably too shaken to be driving. “We’ll backtrack from your place and see where it leads us.” He faced Stefani. “Will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Just go and bring Ivana home.”
“That’s the plan,” he said and kissed her on the mouth.
What Clyde didn’t know was what to expect when he came face-to-face with Ivana again. Would that prompt more fireworks and her leaving Trey again? Would it stir up more anger in Trey so he wanted to use his fists once more to blow off steam?
It was a bridge Clyde was more than willing to cross when he got to it. For now, he had to put his brother first and do whatever needed to be done to try to make things right between them. As well as with Ivana.
There was eerie silence in the car as Clyde drove. Trey glanced at him and tried to find words, but decided it was best to leave him to his own thoughts. Though the animosity Trey felt toward his brother was still strong, that had to take a backseat to the moment at hand. Ivana was missing, and nothing else mattered to him other than locating her safe and sound.
Trey looked out the side window, wondering if Ivana would be home when they got there, which would be the best-case scenario. Or had at least phoned to say she was all right. He was angry that Ivana had scared him like this, apparently without considering what her disappearing act might be doing to him.
Why would you leave me just hanging like this, not knowing if you were dead or alive? Didn’t I earn that right as your husband?
Or had he given up such rights after his own affair that had hurt Ivana so deeply? Not to mention his overreaction to her news of sleeping with Clyde.
Trey faced his brother, who was focused intently on the road as if it would lead to somewhere satisfying for them. He saw the slight swelling on the side of Clyde’s face where he’d hit him. Trey wished he had gone about it differently, but wouldn’t back away from what he’d done. He imagined had the shoe been on other foot and he had bedded Stefani, Clyde would have been royally pissed too and taken it out on him in a similar manner.
But no amount of fighting, threats, or disappointment could take away from the fact that they were brothers for life. Their mother had seen to that. Whatever their differences, they would always have to deal with them, like it or not.
Clyde looked at him as though reading Trey’s mind. “Guess things were bound to blow up between us sooner or later.”
“And whose fault is that?” Trey argued.
Clyde hesitated. “Mine, all right? Seems like every time something good happens, I find a way to mess it up.”
Trey did not argue against the conclusion, though he was hardly without a few faults of his own and things he regretted. “The important thing right now is to find Ivana,” he said evenly. “We can deal with us later.”
“Yeah,” Clyde muttered, as if bracing himself.
Dealing with pent-up anger was what Clyde was afraid of as he pulled onto Trey’s street. He was tired of rehashing all the squabbles that seemed to mark much of his relationship with Trey. He just wanted it to be over and get on with what was left of his world. That included Stefani, who saw only the good in him, unlike Trey, who could only see his faults.
No matter how things ended up with Ivana, Clyde suspected Trey would never let what happened between him and her rest and, as a result, would make Clyde’s life miserable in any and every way he could. Meaning Trey could well wrestle control of the club from him out of spite, leaving Clyde without a visible means for support. Or much of a future to look forward to.
I’ll just have to let it play out and see what happens and hope I’m not left in a dammed canoe without a paddle.
They arrived at the house, and were greeted by Emily and Francine.
“Any word yet?” Trey asked anxiously.
“She hasn’t called,” Emily said sadly. “But we do have something.”
Francine produced a piece of stationery. “Found this in Ivana’s room. It was balled up in the wastebasket. Apparently she had changed her mind about leaving it for you—” Trey took the note. It was scribbled in Ivana’s poor handwriting. Clyde leaned over Trey’s shoulder. “What does it say?” Trey swallowed and read out loud:
Trey,
I’m sorry I disgust you so much. Maybe now you know just a little bit how I felt when it was you who did something really stupid. Not that it excuses in any way what I did, because it doesn’t. I was just hoping that maybe we could put all our cards on the table and come out of it with a stronger marriage.
Guess I was wrong. So was Clyde. But something tells me that if you two didn’t kill each other, you’ve found a way to forgive him. Or come to terms with it.
So why not your wife?
I need to get away, Trey. I need to think about everything that’s happened in our marriage, just as I’m sure you do. Don’t bother looking for me, which you probably won’t, since you’ll be glad to get rid of me once and for all, if I read you correctly.
I just need to be alone for a while.
Ivana
Trey’s eyes welled with tears, and he didn’t give a damn who saw them. He folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Gazing at Clyde made him feel even worse that he had essentially abandoned Ivana in her greatest hour of need.
I’m sorry, baby. About everything.
“I have to go after my wife,” Trey said, eyeing Clyde without prologue.
“I know,” he told him. “We both need to bring her home.” Trey nodded, feeling some solace in having Clyde there and on the same wavelength as him. “Keep trying to reach Ivana on her cell phone,” Trey directed Francine and Emily.
“We will,” Emily assured him.
“And check the TV for any reports of accidents.” Trey prayed Ivana hadn’t gone off the road, inebriated and hurt.
“You might also call the hospitals to see if Ivana has been admitted or treated for anything,” added Clyde.
“Okay, we’ll get right on it,” Francine said.
Trey wasted no further time before heading out with Clyde, knowing that every second counted if Ivana was in some sort of trouble.
Or headed in that direction.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Ivana grew tired of driving and seemingly going nowhere. The tears had her face feeling dry and the emotional turmoil turned her stomach into knots. She craved some alcohol to at least give her a little buzz to get through whatever the rest of the day had in store for her.
She wondered if Trey had even bothered to look for her. Or was he too caught up in his disappointment and hatred to give a damn about his wife and what she may have been going through?
Maybe she didn’t deserve his pity or concern. She’d made her own bed and now was left to wallow in it.
Ivana spotted a place called the Westside Tavern. Why not? she thought, even if it looked like a dump and not normally a bar she would be caught dead in. She was past the point of self-respect.
I just need a drink. Or two.
She pulled her Jaguar into a thin slot. After applying some lip gloss and patting her hair, she headed inside, wearing the stiletto boots she had only purchased the day before, never expecting to break them in like this.
The tavern looked pretty much as Ivana expected: old, small, nondescript with a mildew odor in the air. It was empty except for a young couple kissing at a table with a half-empty pitcher of beer, and an older, bearded man at the bar drinking what loo
ked to Ivana to be hard liquor.
She parked herself at a table and waited for someone to take her order.
They went to every place Trey could think of Ivana might have gone, but there was still no sign of her or her car.
“Maybe she checked into a hotel to stay the night and get her head together,” suggested Clyde.
Trey rubbed his chin. “According to my friend with the police department, Ivana hasn’t used any of her credit cards.”
“What about cash?”
“She never carries much money afraid of being mugged.”
“Have you checked with her hair stylist?” Clyde asked.
Trey’s right brow elevated. “No, why?”
“Ivana mentioned once that she and the woman were tight. Maybe she went to her.”
Ivana had gone through at least a dozen hair stylists, as far as Trey knew, and never seemed to be that satisfied with any of them. “Did Ivana happen to mention the name of this hairdresser?”
“I wish she had,” Clyde responded bleakly.
Trey didn’t even want to think about when Ivana and Clyde might have talked about her hair stylist. Right now, he would take any clues that might point to Ivana’s whereabouts. As it was, Trey had never accompanied her to get hair done, and now regretted not taking a more active interest in even the small things in her life. He prayed the opportunity came to change that
Trey called Emily. If anyone knew who the hairdresser was, it would be her, since Ivana often told the housekeeper where she could be reached.
When Emily picked up, he cut right to the chase. “I need to know the name of the salon where Ivana gets her hair done.”
“It’s called Bordeau’s Palace,” she said immediately. “I recommended the place to Ivana, since I go there myself. The owner and Ivana’s hair stylist is Jacinta Bordeau. I have her number and address right here.”
Trey took down the information. “Thanks, Emily. I’ll be in touch.”
The Secrets of Paradise Bay Page 23
