She’d lied, plain and simple, and Rhee could barely swallow the mortification. It was bad enough her not wanting to spend time with him, but to lie?
Then shame blazed. Everything he’d done was lie.
Inside his truck, windows open to let in the freshening summer night air, he drank deep from a cold bottle of water. Couldn’t help but recall his past life when he’d be swigging whiskey or some other brew society considered manly. Amazing how simple water soothed him now, making him think about the water of life and baptism. Was it Caffey who had awakened his faith, or was it simply time in his life to give over to God again? Maybe these days in Rancho Lorena as the fake friend of a decent man were simply the catalyst to a better relationship with the Giver of all Life, both physical and spiritual. He’d told Caffey it wasn’t pure coincidence he and she had met, and he believed it true, but maybe it had nothing to do with romance, or she wouldn’t have blown him off.
Still, that last kiss had been something. It still sparked up and down his spine, and he knew she’d felt it too. He dully watched Mrs. Warburton’s house from his pick-up, hidden past a stand of shrubs, not just keeping an eye out for Caffey but also waiting to be sure her apartment was empty. But she never appeared at the old lady’s front door, and her car was gone. Last he’d seen the Ford Focus had been parked in Nikki’s driveway. Counting on that, he sneaked his way into her empty apartment.
It took but a quick second to get into her apartment, and not much longer to realize she’d been bugged not just for sound but with a hidden camera pointing to her shower.
He punched the bathroom doorjamb. This wasn’t the work of somebody else following her because she might know where Bradford had stashed his ill-gotten billions. This was savage perversion, and he ached to get his hands on the creep.
It occurred to him, though, he might have been witnessed, too, breaking in last night to plant his own tracking device.
And might be witnessed now. Cold fingers dribbled down his spine. He locked up and ran back to Nikki’s so as not to disturb Mrs. Warburton by turning on his ignition. Easy to trek back with the bright moon shooting silver all over the landscape. But it was still night time, late enough not to be polite. And he hated to alarm Caffey with the bad news of bugs and cameras. But who knew what whoever had done to tamper with Nikki’s house after realizing Caffey would be spending a few weeks there? Whoever was after her wanted to know where she was at all times, to peep and stalk. Rage screamed deep inside but part of his profession was holding on to his temper. He rarely let it erupt.
Lights from the pretty little bungalow showed ahead half a block or two just as his phone vibrated against his leg. Seeing Nikki’s caller ID from her landline he relaxed. He’d slipped his business card in the picnic basket just in case. If Caffey needed him, she had a way to reach him. Some inner prayer had been answered, and he started a thank-you prayer.
Before he could answer the phone, something massive slammed into his head. The night around him exploded into stars behind his eyelids. He crumpled into the gravel road as the sound of a heel crushing his phone rang in agonizing throbs through his ears. The sound of tape pulling off a roll sliced into his pain, the feel of it strapping his ankles together, binding his hands behind his back, and shutting his mouth informed him he was somebody’s prisoner.
A soft, silky blindfold wrapped around his eyes, and his boot heels scraped against gravel for a long time as strong arms dragged him down the road. Nuggets of pain knocked around inside his head like oversized glitter in a giant’s snow globe.
“I’m no means a good man, but I am no killer,” the voice soothed. Fingers long and strong pinched the flesh under Rhee’s arms as the man owning the voice dragged him. Each time his boot heels grabbed at gravel, his head pounded like a hammer was after it.
Pain clawed at his consciousness.
“I figure two weeks without anybody finding you will do it for me.” The captor chuckled and Rhee’s haze almost recognized the sound, but it hung too far over the edge of reason to reach. “The lovebirds will be gone for that long. As for Caffey, well. Me and my girl will be long gone.”
Rhee heard his own snuffles of pain. From the smells, he had been dumped in Nikki’s garage. He had little strength or reason left to know for sure, but running on instinct was a powerful thing. But thoughts died and his mind turned black to muffle the pain after a massive kick smacked his head, hard, and he surrendered to complete darkness.
****
She had the dream again, the one she’d had for two weeks after Everett’s suicide. Fifteen months without one—ever since she landed in California.
The dream with Everett standing over her bedside, reaching for her cheek. As in all the rest of them, she slapped his hand away like a bug. In each dream, he’d worn different clothes, nothing she recalled from their life together, and this time, his hair was longer, shaggy even. But even in her sleep, she could smell the custom cologne somebody in Singapore concocted for him, a luxury for which Everett had thought nothing of dropping a hundred thousand dollars a year.
This time, however, he started to caress her hair, and in her loathing, she jerked away and the tress pulled. Gasping, cold sweat dribbled at her pores, and she sat upright, breath calming only when she saw Dandy, stretched out long, his paw and claw under her head. Obviously, he’d tugged at her while he slept. Darlin’ hadn’t yet mastered the mountain climb to the top of the bed and now slept by the fireplace. Then Caffey heard the clank of the pet door and understood.
Good doggie.
Deep breaths slowed her heart. What had brought this on? She’d even prayed the same prayer that had kept the nightmares at bay. Awake now, she said the verse aloud. “He is a shield to those who trust in Him. God, help me trust You completely. And only You. I fear I’m giving it away too freely these days…”
But as Everett’s image faded, she couldn’t help recall Rhee. Her husband’s eyes had always reflected a dark shadow she couldn’t see past, and far too often, he’d look away like he couldn’t truly meet her gaze. Rhee’s eyes, they were as clear as rainwater, and he hadn’t ever exhibited wariness or inability to look her straight on. Something simmered deep down. Had God sent him as her shield? Was God answering her prayers through Rhee? Was that the purpose of the business card? While Zak and Nikki were gone, she had no one else.
Besides, they’d both said she was due for somebody special. Could that somebody special be Zak’s friend?
Dandy whined with affection at her ear. God’s peace and the sound of downright normality covered her, and calm and protected, Caffey curled into sleep until the alarm clanged at six.
Groaning, she tried to convince herself that yesterday with Rhee was worth the trade-off of this gruesomely early shift. Of course, it was. It was all they’d ever have. Sadness raked her. He hadn’t answered his phone last night and might be miles away by now.
It was over. Just another bridesmaid romance. She sighed. It happened in the movies all the time.
She grunted as she hauled herself from bed. Yeah, like that was reality. On the night table, sat her Bible. Now, this was reality, and she immediately repented her bad mood. A quick prayer for God to guide her day and a read-through of Psalm 31 started her off right. In Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust. Outside the window, just seeing the sun-browned hills protecting the Santa Ynez Valley reminded her that He was her rock and her fortress.
After a quick shower, she dressed in her work clothes, khaki Bermudas and the blue polo shirt embroidered with a double B. Her hair and makeup never took long, and she grinned at herself in Nikki’s mirror. It was too easy to recall the personal assistant in New York whose sole role in life had been maintaining Caffey’s—no, Kathy’s—wardrobe, marking the date on each garment so she never wore it again too close to the first time. The gossip magazines were ruthless about such carelessness.
Not that Caffey had minded. But Everett had the tendency to go ballistic at such matters.
Strangely, the dogs weren’t bouncing around her feet in their Pavlov mode —hearing the alarm normally set them sniffing at their breakfast bowls. Dandy snuffled, sound asleep, atop Nikki’s comforter, and Caffey didn’t wake him. Darlin’ still snored on her bed by the fireplace. Caffey left hefty bowls of food and water for the furry sleepyheads, and with a shrug, hoped they’d use the pet door. She’d come back at her break to make sure.
Outside, the early June morning was chilly. One thing about California, the nights were always cold no matter the heat of the day. She shivered a little but realized much of it was the leftover dream. Everett still had the power to unsettle her, and with a firm stomp of her foot, she refused to let him ruin another day. Grabbing Nikki’s bike, she decided to feel the wind on her face and give her car a rest. She pedaled off to work.
After nothing more than a rake of fingers through her hair and a wash-up of her hands in the restroom, she manned the order line. The sugar-and-spice scent of freshly-baked pastries had her stomach gargling.
“What do you recommend, miss?” a customer in his seventies asked.
“Without a doubt, the cream-filled ‘lobster claw.’” She grinned back at him, pointing to a luscious pastry. “It’s my ultimate favorite. I can drizzle chocolate over it if you’d like.”
The old gent winked at her. “Sounds pretty girly, but I’ll give it a whirl.”
As she reached into the display case with a piece of tissue, she couldn’t help the rush of amazement. It was barely seven o’clock, and this was a quiet rural town, but the place bustled with folks she knew and, like this customer, obviously vacationers on their ways to tour the wineries and olive presses.
An hour into her shift, the line had waned, but from the corner of her eye, she saw three or four people remaining. Once things thinned out, she might ask the manager for a quick break to check on the puppies. He knew Nikki well and probably wouldn’t mind.
After making change for Mrs. Hibbard, one of her landlady’s nearest and dearest friends, Caffey nodded at the next customer. Her blood froze in her veins and breath caught on her throat like a poor grade of steak. Her heart all but screamed. But the Katherine Morton Bradford she’d once been took over, and she hung on to her control. She’d grown quite good at doing so during her marriage. No need to let emotions show when the paparazzi was always at hand to immortalize you doing so.
Her fingers clenched around each other. “Dead guys don’t usually show up for breakfast,” she said, staring at the very-much-alive man who stood in front of the pastry counter. Her voice shook, though, despite her control.
Everett Bedford Bradford’s eyes glittered. He stood in front of her, alive and well. No ghost, no mangled corpse drowned in Long Island Sound, but the husband she’d buried almost fifteen months before. Closed casket, of course. His body hadn’t been found for almost two weeks after she’d found his suicide note, and sea creatures could do a lot of damage to fingers, toes, noses and ears in that amount of time. They’d left behind his wedding band, though. Obviously fish food didn’t include titanium stuffed with twenty half-carat diamonds.
“Come with me now,” he said as if he were ordering his favorite powdered sugar doughnut. “Don’t make a scene. I warn you.”
Katherine Morton Bradford had always taken Everett’s warnings seriously, and Caffey Matthews dared not do anything less.
“I won’t.” She reached for a doughnut to have something to do while her lungs grabbed for air. “Let me finish with these customers. I can take a short break then.”
Three minutes later—she’d mentally counted the seconds so she didn’t scream, and she didn’t’ scream because it had to be a nightmare. His hair looked the same as her dream last night, and she never had been able to scream during a dream.
Even though the coffee shop had been hustling-and-bustling, the rest of Rancho Lorena was still coming awake as her once-dead husband hauled her outside. Not a single car driving down the road. No one would hear them now.
“It was you in the house last night, wasn’t it?” she asked dully. The morning hadn’t warmed up much despite the bright sun. She shivered and knocked dewdrops off a ficus tree in a big pot in front of the shop.
“Yes. I just got back from Argentina.” He tried to embrace her but she shoved him off.
She gagged, but anger bubbled. “You’re dead to me, you know that.” Her voice was hard now.
“That’s my feisty girl!” He tsked in approval and headed her down the sidewalk. “I had no choice. No choice to do what I did.”
“You didn’t think I’d mourn? Thank you very much.”
He shrugged. “Not much, truth to tell. But I regretted it almost at once. It’s taken all this time for my…people to find you. Good job, darling.”
Rhee? No, that wasn’t possible. She actually heard approval and pride in Everett’s voice, but disgust flared out any old feelings. “I have a new life now, Everett. What are you doing here?”
“As I said, it took all this time to find you. I had no intention of letting you go forever.”
“But…”
“Believing me dead was the only way. But I’ve got a new identity now, a new life. We’re going back to South America to start over. There’s a private jet waiting for us at the Santa Barbara airport. You won’t need a thing. The villa is magnificent.”
“But the dogs?” She knew almost before the words left her mouth. “Last night. They didn’t growl or bark or…”
“I tranquilized them. But don’t worry. They’ll be fine when they wake up. I just had…just had to see you.” He shrugged boyishly like the early days when he’d stolen her heart.
She knew then that he’d spied on her while she slept before. Before Katherine became Caffey. Her skin nearly crawled off her bones.
“I like your hair dark, darling. But you’re better as a blonde.”
She might as well let him babble. Something deep down let her know Everett was the reason Rhee hadn’t answered his phone last night.
As if reading her thoughts—and she had to admit he’d had the knack before—he shook his head. “Don’t worry about the boyfriend. I’ve taken care of him.”
“What boyfriend?” She stopped, stock-still, in front of the feed store. “What do you mean?”
“It took me a while to leave Argentina, but I’ve been watching you for two weeks. Ever since my people found you and…bugged your place.” He looked down at her with tragic eyes, as if she were a puppy who’d let loose on the carpet. “You can’t believe how disappointed I was when you decided to stay at the bride’s house for a while. And the boyfriend, why, he snooped your place, too.”
“What?” She couldn’t bear to hear Zak’s friend slandered, even though she found it easy for her initial doubts to roil. But she had to trust someone, and it had never been Everett who sat at her side during a church service, or held her hand in prayer before a meal. And it wasn’t Rhee holding the tip of a knife in her back as Everett did now.
She made her choice.
“As I recall, Everett Bedford Bradford is a very wanted man,” she said casually, facing him. “And I do thank you for your compliment, that I’ve done a good job, I mean.”
“Everett Bedford Bradford is a very dead man.” Once again, his brown eyes glowed with indulgence. “Come on. The pilot’s waiting.”
Caffey didn’t budge. “I didn’t just learn how to dye my hair,” she told him with a smile, a fake one but one she knew he’d find attractive.
But at her words, his forehead roadmapped into a grid. “What do you mean, darling?”
“I also learned kickboxing.”
Her jump-kick smacked his abs, and her instructor would have been proud, but Everett outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Her success had a half-life of one second. And nobody was around to see a thing. Then he marched her down the empty street. All the while he’d draped an arm around her as if she meant something to him. Even with the knife in her back.
“Get in the car.”
She knew better than to disobey, taking deep breaths and planning to flag down the lone oncoming car. But the knife pressed harder. Her paralyzed lungs held out air as he leaned close to click the seat belt in place.
Desperation roiled, but she forced the seeping blackness from her head. She’d never fainted in her life. When Everett pulled onto a lonely country road right outside of town, she tried another self-defense move, but he was ready this time.
“Get out.” The knife made a hole and pressed into her skin. “And get into the trunk. I won’t tie you up. You’re my wife, and I won’t harm you. But I can’t take the chance of anybody seeing you, if I’ve been made.”