“You want to head over there?” Clyde asked Trey.
“Yeah, I think so. If Ivana went to the salon, I’d rather not tip our hand by calling, only to have her go elsewhere, just to get away from me.”
Clyde rubbed his nose. “She doesn’t hate you, Trey, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Trey shot him a look. “How would you know? Or does banging my wife one night qualify you as a shrink?”
Clyde turned away. “No, it doesn’t,” he conceded. “I’m just telling you what I think, for what it’s worth. No matter what I did with Ivana, I believe she loves you, man. You hurt her, she hurt you, but at the end of the day, you were always the one Ivana wanted—and stayed with. Forget about me. Give her a chance and give yourself one to work things out.”
Trey wanted to strike out at him verbally for inserting himself so deeply into their problems, but thought better. He knew that Clyde was only trying to help in his own way. Even if in some respects it was too little, too late. But maybe there was still hope that if he could get his wife back, he could repair the broken connection with her and Clyde too.
Trey and Clyde entered the premises and were greeted immediately by a woman who introduced herself as Jacinta Bordeau.
“Emily called and told me you were looking for Ivana,” she said.
Trey’s mouth tightened, though he couldn’t fault Emily for phoning her. “Yes, we were hoping she had contacted you. Or might have come here.”
Jacinta studied him. “You must be Trey? Ivana talks about you nonstop.” She turned to Clyde. “And you’ve got to be his brother?”
Clyde cleared his throat uneasily. “Yeah.”
“I could tell. You two look alike.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
Trey had often been told the same thing, but he wasn’t much in the mood for brotherly love or closeness in appearances. “About Ivana,” he said hastily.
“Haven’t seen her since she had her hair done last month,” Jacinta stated. “But we did talk on the phone, oh, I’d say about a week or so ago. Nothing but small talk.”
Trey was disappointed, expecting more. “My wife’s going through some stuff right now. Do you have any idea where she might go to chill for a while?”
Jacinta thought about it. “We talked about going bar-hopping, but never did it. I think she was friendly with a couple of my other customers. I can make some phone calls.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“No problem.” She looked from one man to the next thoughtfully. “I really like Ivana and don’t want anything bad to happen to her. I’m happy to do whatever I can to help.”
“Thank you,” Trey told her. His wife had more people who cared about her than she may have realized. Starting with him. And he supposed even Clyde cared in his own way.
In the car, Clyde got Trey’s attention. “I think we should check all the bars in town.”
Trey looked at him sideways. “You think my wife is a drunk?”
“I think she has a problem with alcohol,” he responded diplomatically. “Probably not my place to say.”
“It’s mine,” Trey admitted. “Ivana has been abusing alcohol for a while now. Guess I just didn’t want to face up to it.” He sighed. “She was supposed to check into a detox center this afternoon. Somehow it all fell apart and now heaven knows what will happen.”
“Ivana called me once to pick her up at a bar after she’d had too much to drink,” Clyde told him. “Apparently the bartender refused to serve her anymore.”
“And you didn’t bother to mention this to me?” Trey asked, upset.
Clyde’s chin lowered. “She asked me not to.”
Trey sucked in a deep breath. He hated that Ivana had felt more comfortable confiding in his brother than him. Maybe if he had made himself more accessible things might have been different. Of more concern to Trey at the moment was finding his wife before the drinking led her down a dangerous path.
He could only hope they would get a second chance to make up for everything that went wrong in their lives.
“Whatever it takes, I need to let Ivana know she doesn’t have to go through this alone,” Trey said determinedly. “If what I did or didn’t do caused her to be harmed in any way—”
“Let’s not go there,” stressed Clyde. “There’s no indication anything has happened to Ivana. If she’s still in town, we’ll get to her and bring home.”
Trey found he almost believed his brother, who was proving coolheaded under fire. But Trey wouldn’t get his hopes up only to have them dashed. Not when he knew Ivana was out there somewhere, frustrated and vulnerable, with any potential predator ready to take full advantage of her.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Well, look who’s here. Willie spotted her the minute he walked into the tavern. If it ain’t Mrs. Trey Lancaster, all by herself. He recalled that he’d watched her undress in front of her bedroom window when he’d slipped onto the Lancaster estate. She’d turned him on like crazy. Just as the lady was doing now, looking lost and as if she’d found the one place she wanted to be.
As good-looking and sexy as Willie thought Ivana Lancaster was, he was much more interested in the fact that she was someone he could use to hurt his former friend turned enemy, Clyde, along with that sorry excuse for a brother of his.
It occurred to Willie that Trey, or even Clyde, could have gone to take a leak and might be back any minute now. But that thought passed when he saw no signs of anyone joining the lady.
Guess my lucky day has finally arrived. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna blow it.
He pulled out his cell phone and called Roselyn, but got her voice mail. Normally that pissed him off, but in this case he’d rather leave a message than hear her whining about their suddenly broken date. “It’s me. Hey, look, something came up and I ain’t gonna be able to get away for a while. You should check out the movie without me. Later.”
For an instant, Willie had second thoughts about ditching Roselyn and possibly losing her forever. It was a chance he was willing to take, especially when the golden opportunity had arisen to settle some scores.
He made his way to the table. Ivana seemed deep in thought. Or maybe it was more like half dozing.
“You look like you could use some company.” Willie gave her the best smile he could manage.
Ivana looked up through bloodshot eyes and a faint smile crossed her glossy lips.
Willie took that as a yes and sat down beside her. He noted the nearly empty glass on the table and wondered how many she had already put away. “Can I buy the lady another drink?”
Her eyes grew hungrily. She batted her lashes. “Sure, why not?”
Willie grinned and signaled a waitress. He studied Ivana and decided that she enjoyed the buzz of alcohol about as much as he did getting high. But what they mainly had in common was the man who was her brother-in-law and his arch-enemy.
“My name’s Willie,” he told her sweetly.
“Ivana.”
“Nice to meet you, Ivana.” He stuck out a hand and waited for her to shake it. Her hand was damp and soft with long mauve-colored fingernails perfectly manicured.
Yeah, very nice. I’d love to feel those hands on every part of my body and put my own hands and fingers all over and inside of her.
Maybe he would do just that when all was said and done and the scores were settled.
Ivana’s eyes were sore from crying. She stared vacantly across the table at the man who bought her a drink. He was solidly built with dreadlocks and a goatee. She noted that there seemed to be something wrong with his right eye. Or was she just imagining that after a few drinks? Her first thought had been to tell him where to go, that she wasn’t interested in company—certainly not his. But he seemed nice enough, and since she’d lost the man she loved, what harm was there in a little attention from someone else?
“So are you from around here?” she asked.
“Yeah, you could say that,” he responded coolly.
“I’m guessing you’re way outside your comfort zone. Am I right?”
Ivana gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “I think I’m pretty comfortable right where I am.”
Willie laughed. “I can see that. I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”
“Maybe so, maybe no,” she teased, flashing her teeth.
Ivana tasted the drink. The more she looked at Willie, the more familiar he seemed. Did it have anything to do with being tipsy? Or was he someone she’d met, but couldn’t quite put a finger on?
She supposed it didn’t really matter. As long as he was buying, she was happy to have him as a new friend.
Clyde and Trey must have gone to ten or more watering holes and there was still no sign of Ivana or any indication that she had been there.
Trey was growing frustrated. And desperate. “Maybe we’re looking for her in all wrong places?” He considered that Ivana might have gone to the DeCroch Hotel bar, far enough away from the crowd but in a more appropriate setting than the dives they had looked at. This seemed unlikely, though, as Ivana would probably not want to risk running into Helene and feeling her own humiliation all over again.
So where the hell was she?
“There’s still probably at least half-a-dozen more bars in the city,” Clyde told him from the passenger seat. “She could be at any one of them.”
“Or none of them,” muttered Trey.
“I say we stay on this track—unless you’ve got a better idea?”
That was Trey’s whole problem: he had no better ideas. It was as though Ivana had disappeared off the face of the earth. She could be anywhere—in Paradise Bay or long gone from the city where they lived. There was no guidebook for tracking down a missing wife after an argument about her sleeping with his brother.
If Trey could do it over, he would have tried to see things from Ivana’s perspective. Maybe even Clyde’s. Instead, he’d handled it like the typical jealous macho male, right down to attacking Clyde.
I can’t change what happened, but I can make damned sure it doesn’t happen again. If only I could find Ivana safe and sound.
Trey turned the corner. “Why don’t we just keep looking and hope for the best.”
Clyde’s cell phone rang.
“It’s Albert,” he said, answering it. “Hey.” A moment later, he turned on the speaker.
“Stefani told me about your little problem. I think I may have solved it—or at least can give you some sort of direction.”
“Go ahead, Albert,” directed Clyde.
“I just got a call from a guy who used to work for me over at the Westside Tavern. Name’s Zack. He says someone fitting Ivana’s description left the place a little while ago with a man.”
“What man?” Trey asked, his heart skipping a beat.
“That’s all I got,” Albert said apologetically. “I can call back and—”
“Don’t bother,” Trey said. “We’re not far from there.”
“I hope it was Ivana and you can track her down,” Albert said.
Clyde hung up and faced Trey. “What do you think?”
“I think we need to check it out for ourselves and go from there,” he said.
Trey hated the thought of false hope leading to a dead end. He couldn’t imagine that Ivana would have willingly gone off with a stranger to who-knew-where. On the other hand, if she had been at this tavern and inebriated, any kind of reckless behavior was possible.
An unsettling feeling in the pit of Trey’s stomach told him that some asshole had exploited his wife’s susceptible state of mind to try and take advantage of her. And Ivana might be in no position to resist.
When they arrived at the tavern, a police cruiser was outside. Trey and Clyde walked to an officer who was standing beside a ginger Jaguar.
Trey identified himself. “That looks like my wife’s car.”
The burly officer studied the vehicle. “We got a call to be on the lookout for a car with that license-plate number. Is your wife Ivana Lancaster?”
“Yes.” Trey checked the car and saw that it was locked, but there was no sign of Ivana. He turned to the officer. “Have you been inside the place?”
“Just got here. If she’s in there . . .”
“The bartender said that she left the bar with someone,” Clyde said.
“And we need to find her before they get very far,” Trey said with desperation.
“Are you saying your wife was abducted?” the officer asked.
“She might have been.” Even if she left of her own free will, Trey was certain Ivana was too out of it to think clearly. Or be able to break away from someone determined to have his way and possibly want to get rid of her afterward.
“I’ll need to phone this in.” The officer rubbed his nose. “Then we’ll try to get to the bottom of it.”
“You’re wasting precious time,” Trey’s voice boomed. “My wife could be with a psychopath.”
Clyde stepped between the two men. “Let the man do his job, so we can get on with this.”
Trey took a breath, not wanting to make things any worse than they already were. “Fine.”
The officer looked from one to the other. “Be right back.”
Not wanting to wait a moment longer, Trey headed into the tavern, hoping to find answers. Clyde followed.
Inside, they went up to the bar where the thirty-something, tall bartender was putting liquor bottles on a shelf.
“You must be Zack,” Clyde said.
“Yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Albert’s. This is my brother, Trey. We’re looking for his wife, Ivana. You told Alb—”
“Right,” Zack cut him off. “I think I did see your wife in here, based on how Albert described her. She had a couple of drinks and then a man joined her. I don’t think she knew him, but I can’t say for sure.”
Trey suddenly had a dark vision of Ivana, in a drunken stupor, being beaten and raped by the man. He couldn’t bear the thought of that happening, and both of them having to live with that on top of everything else.
“What did the man look like?” he asked restlessly.
Zack rubbed his chin. “Let’s see . . . he was on the husky side, had dreadlocks . . . probably his early thirties . . .”
“Willie—” Clyde blurted out, feeling his pulse race upon hearing the description.
“Who?” Trey asked edgily.
“Sounds a lot like Willie Munroe.”
Trey locked eyes with him. “You’re telling me that the man you beat up now has my wife?”
Clyde slumped onto a bar stool. He understood the implications of his words. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the hell out of Trey unnecessarily. And he wasn’t positive it was Willie who Ivana left with. But since he knew Willie liked to hang out at taverns, along with his fixation on revenge against Clyde—and Ivana caught in a helpless situation—it all made sense.
Or did it?
“It’s a good possibility,” Clyde hated to say. He looked at the bartender. “Could the man only see out of one eye?”
“I couldn’t tell you about that one way or the other,” the bartender stated. “Sorry.”
So was Clyde. He was sorry that he hadn’t finished the job on Willie when he had the chance. Especially now, since it seemed likely that Willie had Ivana and knew exactly who she was in using to exact his revenge.
Trey recalled some commotion at the jazz club not long ago where security had escorted out a man—a man who was rumored to be an ex-associate of Clyde’s. Trey never brought it up to him, figuring the problem had been resolved. For whatever reason, it hadn’t clicked that this person was Clyde’s ex-best friend turned arch-nemesis, Willie Munroe.
Had Willie come to the club looking for revenge? Had he been intending to go after Ivana all along? Trey believed it all fit, and was totally unnerved at the thought.
“So what are we waiting for?” he demanded, unwilling to allow the slow moving police procedure to run its co
urse. Not when every second that bastard was with his wife was one second too many. “Let’s go after him.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Clyde said and stood up.
Trey handed the bartender his card. “If Ivana should come back here—”
“I’ll give you a call,” Zack finished.
Outside, Trey and Clyde ran into the officer. “I take it your wife wasn’t in there?” he asked Trey.
“You take it right,” he answered, deciding this wasn’t the time to engage in a long, drawn-out question-andanswer session with the cop. “We have to run.”
“And where can I reach you in case I need to?” the officer asked suspiciously.
Trey met his gaze. “Just call Detective Eric Cordell of Criminal Investigations. He’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
Ivana was feeling sick to her stomach after she’d had too much to drink. When Willie offered to walk her to her car, she agreed. It caught her totally by surprise when he grabbed her arm and forced her into another car. Ivana tried fighting him, but was too weak and disoriented under the influence of alcohol and his raw determination.
Now she found herself in the passenger seat next to a madman—unlike the sweet and charming man he’d pretended to be—who was holding the steering wheel with one hand and a gun in the other. It was pointed at her.
Ivana wondered if he planned to rape and then kill her. She could imagine him dumping her body in a marsh on the outskirts of the city, leaving her to die a slow death or to be eaten by wild animals. Either scenario was too scary to think about.
She couldn’t just sit back and allow it to happen. But what could she do? He had all the power, and she had none. Trey had no idea where she was. And he could probably care less for all she knew.
Ivana looked at Willie, who had given her no indication where they were going or why he had taken her.
After recovering somewhat from the shock of it all, Ivana finally got up the courage to say something. “Why are you doing this?”
Maybe he recognized her as the wife of a local millionaire businessman and kidnapped her. Do kidnappings really happen by coincidence? Did he plan to collect a hefty ransom? Would Trey even be willing to pay one cent to get her released?
The Secrets of Paradise Bay Page 24
