A Feast of You (6 page)

“Beckett, I can come with you,” I offered lamely.

“No, honey, I’m sorry. This whole new job thing has been a whirlwind. Things just keep popping up. I’m sorry to flake.”

Left with no other choice, I followed Beckett out of the apartment, and when we stepped outside the building, Asa wasn’t there. Of course, I told him I’d be an hour. He probably went to get a coffee or something and who could blame him. I weighed my options. I could stand here and wait, looking like an idiot, or I could try and find out more about what was up with Beckett.

“I’ll walk with you.”

Beckett arched a brow. “Think your hired muscle will like that?”

“It’s a ten-minute walk from here to the bakery. I’ll text him from the bakery, and he can pick me up there.” I buttoned my coat and started walking, Beckett right beside me.

“So Tropos was really great?” Beckett asked. I was glad that he still wanted to keep talking, even if he was changing the subject from him and Alec.

“It was fabulous. I’m just sorry our trip meant we had to cancel dinner plans at William’s penthouse. Maybe you and—maybe you can come over this week.” God, I’d almost said
you and Alec
.

“Great.”

I knew Beckett noticed my slip, but he didn’t say anything. “Beckett, are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened—”

“Actually, I’m kind of glad you’re coming to the bakery with me. I tried this new carrot cake recipe, and I wanted to tell you about it. Really, it’s not the cake so much as the cream-cheese frosting.” Beckett went on for the rest of our walk, talking about his special technique for whipping the cream cheese with confectioner’s sugar, butter, and vanilla and then discussing some of his great new ideas for Patisserie LeClerc. They all sounded delicious.

My stomach was growling by the time we crossed Clark Street and headed down the block to where the bakery was located. It was right next door to The Webster, a new boutique hotel perched at the corner of Webster and Lincoln Park West that would be opening soon. The vintage building had been totally revamped and the entire block was about to become a hot destination in the neighborhood.

Once in front of the bakery, I covered my mouth in surprise. A huge
Coming Soon
sign stood in the window. It was flashy and totally professional, and they’d done a lot of work on the exterior. The whole thing looked hugely impressive.

“What do you think?” Beckett was watching me and smiling.

“Oh, Beckett.” I grabbed his arm. “It’s awesome. I can’t wait to see the inside. Look at this window. It’s almost the whole length of the shop! There’ll be so much light.” I was a photographer and I always thought about light.

“It’s a great location, too.”

“It’s a perfect location.” I hugged him. “I’m so happy for you. This is the big break you’ve been waiting for.” I’d known it was going to be amazing, but I hadn’t realized quite how amazing. The building, the location—right in the heart of Lincoln Park. I could just picture all the trendy, young moms stopping by for their morning coffee and all the neighborhood hipsters clamoring for a table to do whatever hipsters did on their days off. I couldn’t help but wonder if William had more to do with this venture than he’d let on.

We said our goodbyes. I gave Beckett another hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then pulled out my phone as he went inside. I really should have texted Asa then, but I knew I was going to get a lecture from him about not being where I said I would be. I glanced at the time, seeing that I still had some left before my hour was up.

And then I realized I was only a few blocks from my condo.

It felt like years since I’d been home and no way would Asa let me go. Which was stupid. I mean, what was going to happen? My condo was in a nice neighborhood where I had lived for a year, perfectly safe, until the random incident less than two weeks ago. A break-in where nothing was stolen. Besides, it was a gorgeous February day, one of those rare thirty-degree days without wind that offered the hope of spring. It was good to be outside, and I wanted to stretch my legs. So I started walking.

As I walked, my thoughts turned back to Beckett. I still couldn’t believe he and Alec had broken up. I’d known him forever, and he was a total romantic. I mean, he’d gotten weepy when guys didn’t call him after the first date. He had more ideas about his future wedding than I did. There was just no way he was as cool about this break-up as he acted. Why wouldn’t he talk to me about it? Maybe he figured I couldn’t relate. I met Jace my freshman year of college and then we got married right after I’d graduated. He’d died six months after the wedding, but that wasn’t exactly the same thing as a break-up. It wasn’t having someone voluntarily walk away from you.

William and I had had that big fight about the dossier I’d found on the women he’d dated. I’d been pretty miserable for a few days, but we hadn’t broken up. When I thought about it, I’d never been dumped, and I’d never really dumped anyone—getting away from Jeremy didn’t count. And Beckett had been—and still was—frustrated with me for complaining about my life. He had told me as much. Maybe I wasn’t the person he wanted to confide in anymore. The thought broke my heart.

Still, I knew that there was more going on than Beckett was letting on, and I wanted to find out what.

I
smiled when I reached my building, which was as charming and welcoming as ever. I felt warm all over when I saw it, with no fear whatsoever. The converted old greystone mansion was my home, and I was thrilled I could have a few minutes alone here. I headed inside and stopped to check my mail in the foyer. I slipped my mail key in and pulled the door open, expecting envelopes to tumble onto the floor, but the box was empty.

Okay, that was odd. I’d been gone for almost two weeks. The box should have been full of junk mail and catalogues, at least. Was Minerva taking care of my mail? Or maybe William had had it held? On the way up to my condo, I stopped at the Himmlers and knocked on the door. Minerva opened it, her face breaking into a huge smile when she saw me. “Catherine! Darling!” She pulled me into her arms and hugged me tightly. “We’ve missed you,” she said when she released me. “You look wonderful.”

“So do you.” She looked as trim and elegant as ever in a sweater and wool slacks. Her grey hair was swept up and back in an effortless twist.

“Come in, come in. I just made
bienenstitch
. It will melt in your mouth.”

“So that’s what smells so good.” The whole condo smelled like almonds and honey. “I can’t really stay, but I wanted to stop by and check in.” I spotted Hans sitting in his chair, reading a newspaper. He lowered it to smile at me. “Hi, Mr. Himmler.”

“It’s good to see you, Catherine. If you can’t stay for cake, take some with you. We can’t eat it all.”

“Yes, take some to that handsome man of yours.” Minerva motioned me into her kitchen, which was warm and homey as usual. It was full of vibrant colors that matched her personality. While she wrapped up two slices of the cake, we chitchatted about the neighborhood.

“No one has seen anything suspicious since the break-in?”

“Not a thing.” Minerva slid open a drawer and pulled out aluminum foil. “And we’ve all been very careful not to buzz people in we don’t know.”

“Good. I worry about you and Hans. Call the police if you see anything that doesn’t seem right.”

Minerva laid a hand on my arm. “We’re fine, Catherine, really. Besides, with the new security system, we will be safer than ever.”

“You installed a security system? That sounds pricey”

“No, your William offered to have it installed. It’s state of the art, with cameras and computer monitoring.” She said more, something about keycards, but I wasn’t listening. William was having a security system installed in my building? He’d never even mentioned it.

“Your William is very thorough, Catherine.” She pressed the warm cake into my hands. “We’re very grateful. You’ll tell him?”

“Of course. Thanks again for the cake.” I gave her a hug. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to ask. Have you picking up my mail? My box was empty when I checked.”

“No. But I have no doubt that man of yours took care of that for you, no?”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I said more to reassure myself than her. “I’ll see you soon.” I waved to Hans on the way out. “You too, Hans.”

As I climbed the stairs, I could feel myself getting pissed. William hadn’t said
one word
about the new security measures, even after I’d mentioned how much I wanted to go home. With a security system in place, my condo would be perfectly safe, so why was he insisting I stay at his penthouse indefinitely? William had promised to be open and honest with me but yet again, his version of that was still very different from mine.

I unlocked my door and walked in. The condo was so quiet and still, and it was weird not to have Laird bounding up to greet me. I almost felt like a visitor in my own home. I vowed that wouldn’t last long. I’d be back soon.

I wanted to grab a few things, so I headed into the guest room and dug out a duffel bag. As I moved from room to room, I couldn’t get over how eerie it was. It was the middle of the day, not dark at all, but my place seemed stale and different. I suddenly wanted to hurry and get out.

I grabbed some clothes from my bedroom and a few toiletry items, then on the way back to the kitchen, I spied the one picture of Jace I had displayed. It was of the two of us in Hawaii, the last time we’d been together. I had the urge to take it off the shelf and pack it, but how awkward would that be? Taking a picture of my dead husband to my new boyfriend’s place? It was strange enough that William has a big Cat Ryder surfer print hanging in his living room. He definitely didn’t need Jace staring him in the face every day. But this picture always felt like it belonged with me, just like Jace’s memory, so I grabbed it and shoved it in my bag.

I headed into the kitchen. I tugged open the Sub-Zero thinking I’d clear out any spoiled items, but it was almost empty as always. Just a few condiments and my good bottle of champagne.

My arm started to hurt from all the stuff I was holding, so I placed the wrapped plate of Minerva’s cake, my purse, and the duffel on the counter. Now unencumbered, I couldn’t resist the lure of my darkroom. I’d converted the pantry of my condo into a darkroom right after I’d moved in. I just wanted to make sure it was in order, I told myself, and I headed in and shut the door out of habit.

I flicked on the red light and inhaled. Everything was right where I’d left it. There were prints still hanging on the line, long since dry, and I pulled them down, one by one, looking them over. A few shots of William and me, a few landscapes, a cute shot of Beckett.
I should take pictures at the bakery opening
, I thought. I could frame them and give them to Beckett as a gift. I thumbed through a stack of digital prints sitting on the table. These were my shots from the
nyotaimori
dinner—the naked sushi dinner—that William had staged for me. I’d been thinking about creating a series of small film prints based on the images as a gift for William. But I’d have to wait until I was home to start working on them. Just thinking about it made me excited and eager to get back to my art. I missed my darkroom and the way it relaxed me to work in here. There was something comforting about the process of developing film, watching the image materialize in the bath. I often lost track of time when I was in here and—shit, today was no different.

I checked my watch. I’d been in here for over half an hour just musing and looking around. Asa was definitely going to be looking for me and was probably worried. I turned the handle of the door and pushed, but the door didn’t open. I pushed harder. It didn’t even budge.

Okay, that was bizarre. Had I been gone so long that I couldn’t even open the door to my own darkroom? I took a deep breath and tried again. Nothing. My heart raced. There wasn’t a lock on the outside of the door. I didn’t even have one on the inside. Something had to be holding it closed, somehow. I tried again, practically wrenching the knob off.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my palms started to sweat. “Calm down, Cat,” I said out loud to myself. “Maybe the door is just stuck. Old buildings. Old doors. That happens.”

Right? I wasn’t so sure, but I needed to believe it. I took another deep breath and decided to try the door with more force. I moved back and slammed my shoulder into the door.

Nothing.

My heart thundered in my ears, and I started shaking. “Don’t panic,” I murmured to myself, but I was already doing just that. I checked my pockets, hoping I had miraculously brought my cell with me, but they were empty. My phone was in my purse, just like it always was. Shit.

I pounded on the door, slamming my fists into it. “Help! Help!” I screamed. Maybe somehow Hans and Minerva could hear me. Their kitchen was right under mine. Could I scream into a vent?

Impossible. This was a converted pantry, with no extra duct work. There was no way anyone could hear me.

Suddenly, the room seemed to close in on me, and all I wanted was to get out. I slammed against the door again and again, adrenaline surging through me, making me almost dizzy with fear and urgency.

Finally, I stood back and kicked the door. “Let!” Kick. “Me!” Kick. “Out!”

The door flew open, and I stumbled out as a screwdriver sailed across the kitchen floor. Instantly I realized the screwdriver had been wedged in the door frame, holding it shut until all my slamming and kicking dislodged it.

Someone had deliberately locked me in.

It seemed surreal. How was that even possible? I was sure I was alone in the condo.

A cold wind ruffled my hair, and I swung toward the back door, which was standing wide open. No way was that open before. My gaze dropped to the counter and I saw the scattered contents of my purse and duffel. I stared at the evidence in disbelief, trembling, my heart racing. I was about to run for—I didn’t even know where—when I heard, “Catherine? Miss Kelly?”

I practically crumpled onto the counter. I recognized Asa’s voice and relief surged through me. “In here!” I yelled, my voice sounding hoarse and weak. I heard the front door bang open and the clump of Asa’s boots as he raced to the kitchen. He took one look at me, surveyed the kitchen, and said, “Are you hurt?”