Murder by Design Trilogy

by Mary Jane Forbes

  “Are you going to put the baby up for adoption? What about an abortion?” Sheridan asked.

  “No. My baby was created from my love, my passion for its father. It is mine and it will be cherished as a gift of love.” Gilly laid her hand on her belly. “A gift of love.”

  “What are you going to say when people ask you about the father?”

  “The identity of the father will go with me to my grave, and I ask that you hold my secret dear to your hearts. I’ve started to formulate a story about the father and I’d like your thoughts.”

  “Tell us,” Nicole said, scooting down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs, looking into Gilly’s passionless face.

  Gilly finished her coffee and set the empty cup on the table. She leaned her head back. Looked at the ceiling.

  “I met a man in Paris. It was love at first sight. He’s an agent for the French government and performs dangerous missions. Twice he was called away. I never knew where. He told me if he didn’t return one day it was because he was killed. He is dead. No siblings, and his parents were killed in an automobile accident shortly after he was born. No family. No contacts.”

  The air conditioner kicked in, droning, as the three processed the story, the fabricated story, the lie.

  “I guess that means you didn’t tell Maxime about the baby?” Nicole said.

  “He told me of his plans to run for the Senate before I had a chance. I did the only thing I could do. I said goodbye … left him … standing in the restaurant.” She shifted in the chair, looked into their somber faces. “So, any suggestions, changes to my story? It’s basically I met a man, fell in love, and he was killed in the service of his country. We were not married. The baby will be raised with the Wilder name.”

  “It sounds plausible I guess,” Sheridan said. “Let’s sleep on it. Tomorrow is Saturday. We’ll have our usual breakfast at the café. Take a walk. If you still want to tell that story, then that’s it.”

  “You two will be the only ones who know the truth. If anyone should ask, you say you were aware I had met a man and that he was killed. I never told you his name or anything about him. I kept everything private. Okay?”

  “What about your family?” Nicole asked.

  “I met a man, we fell in love, I became pregnant, and he was killed in the service of his country.”

  “And Skip?”

  “I met a man, we fell in love, I became pregnant, and he was killed in the service of his country.”

  “I really can’t believe you’re taking this so calmly.” Nicole sat on her hands rocking back and forth.

  “Calm? My world has changed forever. I was a stupid, naive girl with very poor judgment. She is no more. Maybe someday I’ll let myself shed the tears behind the dam I’ve erected inside me … but not now. If I let it burst now … I … I … well, I can’t allow those dark thoughts to enter my head.”

  “You’re a brave woman, Gillianne,” Sheridan said. “I’ll ask you if this is what you want tomorrow. If it is, your secret will be safe with me.”

  “That goes for me, too,” Nicole said.

  “One last thing. If anyone questions you about Maxime, all you know is that we had dinner a few times, nothing more. After all he is a married man.”

  Chapter 21

  ───

  THE CAB ROLLED DOWN the street from the apartment, rounded the corner giving Gilly one last glimpse of the little café where she, Nicole, and Sheridan had spent so many hours over espressos laughing, planning, pooling what they learned on any given day at the feet of a designer’s staff member, or the factories where her staff assembled samples, then to the cutting rooms, the sewing rooms, and then the final products delivered around the world.

  Gilly waved to Tony as they passed. He saluted her. Nicole, Sheridan and Gabby sitting in the back seat remained quiet with their thoughts. Gilly, sitting in front alongside the driver, stared out the window as the streets of Paris rolled by. The Louvre, the Seine, monuments, cafes their patrons chatting—hands punctuating conversations.

  Paris. The city she came to love, a city where she briefly thought she might live, and now she was leaving. She doubted she’d ever be back.

  Maxime. What if she bumped into him. She could never take that chance. That man … sitting outside at the café … Maxime? She turned her head as the cab passed. Letting out a sigh … of course, it wasn’t him. She felt her eyes mist, blinked away the mist quickly. She couldn’t let one tear escape because she didn’t know how many more might follow.

  The cab picked up speed—flower stands, bright awnings, cafes…always the cafes, fountains spewing water into the sunlight, gathering in sparkling pools at the base.

  This ride to the airport so different than the one six months earlier—she and Gabby, giddy, laughing, carefree. Passing The House of Chanel Gabby slipped her hand into Nicole’s. Electric. Their unspoken thoughts were shared nonetheless—one day they would be in a cab leaving Paris for Seattle.

  The House of Gillianne was going to be known worldwide. Gilly was a rising designer. More than once in the past few months her designs had been incorporated into the house’s collection.

  Sheridan was looking out her side window and didn’t see Gabby grip Nicole’s hand. She didn’t share the optimism of the pair. In her mind Gilly was running home, running away, defeated and pregnant. No, Sheridan had to keep looking for an opportunity to make it big.

  The cab drew up to the American Airlines terminal.

  Gilly stepped out of the cab with her friends. The roommates and her agent insisted on seeing her safely off for her return flight to Seattle. They hustled up to the baggage check-in. Sheridan rolled her large suitcase, Gabby another medium-sized suitcase, and Nicole the carry-on. Gilly had already shipped most of her stuff, stuff she bought for her family and Maria.

  With her boarding pass in hand, Gilly made a quick call to Maria letting her know she would call from JFK for the second leg of her trip, thanking her again for her offer to meet her in Seattle.

  “Do you have time for a quick coffee?” Nicole asked.

  “I think not. My stomach is a little on edge … excitement and all I guess. There is one thing I want to float out to you,” she said glancing from one to the other. “If … no, not if, when I start my business I’ll be calling to see if any of you would like to help me. It would be rough at first and slim pay, but I will be able to offer you a place to stay even if it’s at my grandfather’s,” she said smiling.

  Gabby and Nicole answered at the same time. “Yes.” They looked at each other and giggled. “I guess what we’re trying to say,” Gabby offered, “Is that we’d both be interested. Having never been to the States, and to have a chance at putting some of what we’ve learned to work,” again they giggled. “It would be beyond wonderful.”

  “Exactly,” Nicole said. “I guess you’re thinking of starting in Seattle?”

  “Yes.” Gilly looked at Sheridan.

  “I have more to do here, but promise you’ll call when you open up shop in New York.” Sheridan smiled at Gilly. “What about … you know … the baby?”

  “The baby adds another word to my bio—mother. My mother took me to a tearoom where she was a hostess when I was a baby.”

  Gilly looked at her watch and then back at her friends, hugging each in turn. “You’ve been terrific. I’m going to miss you.”

  “Hey, no tears, young lady.” Gabby retrieved a tissue from her bag, handed it to Gilly. “And, you’d better let us know how everything is going and not just occasionally. I’m thinking at least once a week.”

  “For sure, at least,” Nicole said hugging Gilly one last time.

  “We mean everything!” Sheridan said.

  An hour later the jet taxied down the runway. Gilly strained at her seatbelt, forehead pressed to the plane’s window. Six months. She had been in Paris six months. She came as a girl and was leaving a woman carrying a treasure that would forever tie her to the beautiful city. She had learned a lot
about the fashion industry but more to the point, she had learned about life … what love was and what it wasn’t.

  Chapter 22

  Seattle

  THE SILVER PLANE CIRCLED, banked, and began its descent into Sea-Tac Airport. Puget Sound, the piers and skyscrapers of Seattle, and the Space Needle spread out below.

  Home.

  Deplaning, pulling her small rolling case, a large tote over her shoulder, Gilly trotted along with the crowd to Baggage Claim.

  Spotting Gilly, Maria and Hawk waved from the top of the escalator. She didn’t see them at first, her head down watching the moving metal stair treads so she didn’t fall. She was a little apprehensive about coming home and had decided not to say anything about her pregnancy to her friend until after she told her parents.

  The minute she saw Maria waving frantically to get her attention, relief spread through her body. Her best friend stood at the top of the stairs, her arms open wide in greeting. Gilly leaned into her and hugged back trying to stem the tears but a few escaped. Hawk immediately pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, handed it Gilly.

  “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. It’s so incredibly wonderful to see you both.”

  “Come on, let’s get your luggage. I brought reinforcements.” Maria nodded at Hawk. He grabbed the handle of her suitcase and Maria laughed tucking her arm through Gilly’s and at the same time squeezing Hawk’s free hand. She threw him a quick glance. Something was wrong with Gilly as she had all but collapsed in Maria’s arms. She didn’t know what it was and probably wouldn’t find out until they got together tomorrow. Maria fully intended to drop by the Wilder’s Hansville home by lunchtime and steal Gilly away.

  The friends chatted all the way to the Seattle ferry terminal, and never stopped as they crossed Puget Sound. Maria and Hawk peppered her with questions about Paris: the weather, the food, the cafes, and the people. They were both careful not to ask anything personal sensing immediately personal was out of bounds after Gilly waved off their first inquiries about her roommates and, of course, the man Gilly had mentioned during a few of their telephone conversations.

  Two hours later, Hawk turned down the Wilder’s driveway honking the horn as he pulled to a stop.

  Gramps was the first out of the house followed by Anne and Will, Gilly’s mom and dad. Hawk retrieved the luggage scooting around the welcoming committee, depositing the cases on the patio and stepped back to Maria. Maria stood beside him smiling at the family reunion. So loving, she thought. I have a feeling she’s going to need it.

  Anne invited Maria and Hawk in for a cup of coffee, but they begged off. They had Gilly for a couple of hours and now it was her family’s turn. Gilly hugged Hawk and then Maria, thanking them for picking her up and confirmed a lunch date tomorrow with Maria.

  Anne walked in the house, her arm around her daughter, followed on their heels by Will and Gramps.

  Settling at the kitchen table again, Gilly wondered if the past six months had really happened. Was she ever in Paris?

  “Will, I think this calls for a bottle of champagne,” Anne said sitting next to Gilly at the table.

  Gilly looked up sharply but decided not to refuse. A sip would be okay. Until …

  Will retrieved a bottle from the refrigerator chilling for the occasion, popped the cork, and poured the bubbly into the goblets Anne had set out.

  “Here’s to Gillianne’s safe return home. Where you belong I might add,” her dad said.

  “You look tired, sugar. How many hours since you left Paris?” Gramps asked.

  “With the plane changes … over fourteen hours.”

  “Your dad and I are back at home in Port Gamble,” Anne said smiling at her husband.

  “I was lucky and landed a job again over the winter at Port Townsend—renovating an existing condo complex,” Will said, taking a sip of champagne.

  “Good for you, Dad.”

  Gilly gazed out the big picture window at the sparkling waters of the sound. A tanker headed north, low in the water with a load of cargo picked up at one of the Seattle piers. Back in the arms of her family she wondered how she could have been so stupid. She was suddenly filled with hatred for Maxime.

  “I have something to tell you,” Gilly said staring out the window.

  Anne patted her daughter’s hand. “Honey, you don’t have to tell us about your time in Paris now. Why don’t—

  Turning, looking into her mother’s face, so like her own, “I have to tell you now. I’m pregnant.”

  Anne’s hand dropped to her lap, a gasp of air escaping her mouth.

  Will set his glass down on the table. “What?” he asked in a hissed whisper.

  “Let her speak, son,” Gramps said. “Tell us what happened, child.”

  “I met a man, a Frenchman, shortly after I arrived in Paris. The only thing I can say, or have the strength to say right now, is that he was an agent for the French government. We fell in love at first sight.”

  “Gilly, you said he was an agent,” Anne said. “What does he do now? Is he coming to be with you in Seattle?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Oh, Gilly,” Anne grasped her daughter’s hand, held it to her cheek, eyes closed. “My poor girl.”

  “How?” Will asked his voice gruff, eyes narrowed.

  “When I inquired, all they would say is that he was killed in action. They only told me that much because he had no family. I was the only one to inquire.”

  “How far along are you?” Will asked squinting at his daughter.

  “Almost three months. Sometime late March. Mom, I’d like to make an appointment with your doctor or whomever you suggest.”

  “You haven’t been to a doctor?”

  “No. But there’s no doubt.”

  “We’ll go home and I’ll call first thing in the morning for you.”

  “Okay, but I’m going to stay here with Gramps. Maria is coming over in the morning. I want to see what she thinks of my plans.”

  “Your plans? I trust this revelation means you’re giving up that cockamamie idea of becoming a fashion designer,” Will said knocking back his drink.

  Her father’s face had hardened as she told them she was pregnant. She knew he wasn’t going to like what she was planning to do. She was sorry for that, but she had to keep moving, moving forward, keep her dream in front of her to create a life for herself and her baby.

  Chapter 23

  ───

  Hansville

  THE GUESTHOUSE WAS AS Gilly had left it six months prior—eight-foot table in the center of the little living room, three sewing machines on the table—hers, her mom’s, Maria’s—two mannequins—Patty and Suzy—at one end and a green plastic garden chair at the other.

  Hearing Maria’s car turn into the driveway, she stepped out into the brilliant October sunshine feeling it a good omen on her first day home. A big grin spread across her face—both girls wore their signature jeans, white T-shirt and sweater knotted around their shoulders. Gilly grasped Maria’s hand pulling her into the guesthouse and the two best friends hugged each other. Gilly turned away, quickly blotting a tear.

  “No place to sit in here,” she said regaining her composure. “There’s coffee on the counter. Help yourself and then I guess we might as well make ourselves comfortable on the bunk beds. I checked this morning and they’re still there.”

  “Like old times … before you left. I can just see you and I and your mom sewing like crazy on those machines trying to finish in time for the State competition—which you won, girlfriend.” Giggling, Maria poured a cup of coffee, and Gilly picked up the glass of milk. The girls moved to the little bedroom and settled on the lower bunk leaning against pillows shoved against the wall. So much to share … but where to start.

  “Gilly, I know you haven’t told me everything. I can see it on your face. You’re holding back.”

  “Okay, but you first. When you and Hawk picked me up yesterday you seemed close—so much in love.”

/>   “Oh, we are. He’s wonderful. Now that he’s passed the bar, he’s replaced the tribe’s part-time lawyer. The casino is going great guns. The whole resort is growing.”

  “And the resort’s spa? Are you still working your magic?” Gilly asked, wrapping her arms around her knees, as she took a sip of milk.

  “Still there and still loving the interaction with the guests. Hawk and I have been making some long-range plans. He wants to handle more than just the reservation’s needs. He’s looking to open an office in Seattle. But the big news,” Maria said scrunching around to face Gilly, “We’re talking about getting married in December—before Christmas. Can you believe it? I’m going to marry that handsome Indian.”

  “Oh, Maria, that’s wonderful.” Gilly grasped and squeezed her friend’s hand with delight. “But what does that mean about the spa? Will you still manage it? Where will you live—the reservation, Seattle?”

  “We’re not sure. I love the spa, don’t get me wrong, but I do miss being in the fashion industry. I loved working with you. Getting ready for the competition was so much fun.”

  Gilly arched her brows.

  “Oh, I know it was a lot of work, but I loved it.” Maria stared down into her coffee, and then looked up. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back I guess … waiting to hear what you’re planning.”

  “Now that’s what I call a segue. Hey, it’s a beautiful day. How about we take a walk on the beach? I have so much to tell you and, with what you’ve just said, my mind is spinning with possibilities.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

  The girls trotted to the front of the house, down over the bank on the rickety weather-beaten stairs to the deck and the beach below. The tide was out leaving an expanse of beach but they kept their shoes on for protection against the sharp stones.