A Stirring from Salem (17 page)

Chelsea was on her computer when the front door unlocked and Abby stormed in. She was near tears and furious with herself.

“How could I have been so stupid, Chels?” she wailed as she slammed the door behind her. “How could I have believed that ring would be on my hand forever?”

“Oh, Abs, I am so sorry,” Chelsea offered.

“Jackson Gaines has his pick of the women in London, if not the world, and I thought he’d fallen in love with me. What was I thinking?”

Abby ripped off her coat and tossed it angrily.

“And what I put you through, just after you got dumped by that louse Max Brady. Me all smiles and giggles and dripping with love and enthusiasm while you were hurting. I’m obviously not only a lousy girlfriend, but also a lousy friend. Can you forgive me?”

Chelsea just stared at her best friend.

“I was afraid they might be including the ring,” she said.

“Yep,” Abby said, not really paying attention to Chelsea as she thrust her empty left hand in the air and then flipped her middle finger. “To you, Jackson Gaines.”

“I’m confused, though. He broke up with you over that?”

“Yes! No ring. Empty finger. Broken heart.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Oh, you can believe it. We’d had a fabulous night in bed, celebrating, I thought…then he just said, ‘I have to have the ring back.’ Just like that.”

“And then ‘I’m breaking up with you’?” Chelsea questioned.

“He couldn’t even get those words out of his mealy mouth. I told him exactly what I thought of him, what my
father
thought of him, and waved the no-good tool good-bye.”

“And you’re sure he was calling off the wedding?” Chelsea asked, tilting her head.

“What kind of question is that?” Abby snapped.

“There’s something I think you should see. Radaronline?” Chelsea said, turning the computer screen toward her friend. “They scooped you, I think.”

“I don’t care about them today!” Abby said incredulously.

“It’s about the upcoming auction,” Chelsea said simply. “And you.”

Abby reeled. “Wha—?”

On the screen was the radaronline.com website, Abby’s biggest competition. The lead story had a photo of Abby and Chelsea from the day before, exiting the building in Wapping. The ring on Abby’s left hand was circled, with a photo next to it of Olivia Gaines, Jackson’s mother, wearing the spectacular yellow diamond. The headline read: To the Auction Block?

“Maybe if the paps hadn’t gotten a shot of you wearing it yesterday, you could have kept it at least for a while.”

“Oh, no…” Abby said as she read the gossip about Richie Gaines, the upcoming auction, and speculation that the ring would bring a pretty penny. “Anyone wanting to walk a mile in Olivia Marini Gaines’ OMG shoes will have a chance to purchase them and hundreds of other personal items in the upcoming auction of the late fallen financier Richard Gaines’ spoils next month. Sources say the four-carat yellow diamond, shown yesterday on the ring finger of Abigail Deveraux, won’t be there long. Too bad her fiancé can’t afford a new one!” Abby was sputtering now, and her eyes wide as saucers.

“So, Jackson never said ‘I don’t want to marry you,’” Chelsea said in a tone that made Abby’s knees weak.

“No…” Abby admitted.

“And what did you say?” Chelsea asked.

Abby’s face went white as everything began to sink in.

“Oh, Chelsea…what have I done?”

By the time the Tom-Ali van made it back from Mapusha, the line outside the clinic had vanished. Patch attempted to drive into the parking lot carefully, but he hit a pothole. With the van’s worn shocks and the gravel surface, the vehicle bounced badly.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Joe wailed from inside as he woke with a start.

“Sorry, Bud,” Patch said, wincing at the pain he could only imagine Joe was feeling. The small dose of pediatric morphine that Kayla had given the boy was starting to wear off.

The door to the clinic opened, and Bill emerged as Patch scrambled from the driver’s seat.

“What’s going on?” Bill asked as he approached.

“Joe was a boy being a boy,” Patch answered. “Thought he could fly.”

“Broken arm?” Bill asked as they moved to the passenger’s side.

“Wrist,” Patch confirmed.

“Let me help you with him,” Bill said as the door panel on the passenger’s side slid open.

Joe was on Kayla’s lap and whimpering again.

“Get Cornelius out here to help,” Kayla insisted as she glared at Patch.

“He had to make a run to Londolani,” Bill said. He was aware that Kayla was wary of him, even though he felt steady as a rock at the moment. “If you don’t trust me, Beauty can give a hand.”

“No,” Kayla snapped. She was frazzled and angry with Joe, Steve, and Beauty—but mostly with herself. “And Cornelius was covering for me today! He shouldn’t have left you here alone.”

“I’ve got him,” Patch said firmly. This was his son, and he was going to handle it.

Kayla glanced at Marlena, who nodded. “It was an accident,” her friend reminded her.

“Come on, Sport,” Patch said gently. “Let’s get you inside.”

Kayla gingerly inched Joe to the doorway. “Remember to keep that arm as still as you can.”

Beauty scrambled inside the clinic to get a room ready.

***

Marlena stayed in the waiting area with Bill while Kayla tended to Joe’s injury.

“Kayla’s upset with herself,” she said gently.

“As Patch said, ‘Boys’ll be boys,’” Bill answered.

“That’s not entirely it,” Marlena clarified. “You know how much Kayla loves all of those villagers.”

“And they love her.”

“Well, one of the boys reached out to help Joe when he fell. They’d been playing, and the boy had some open cuts on his hands.”

“Ah,” Bill said, understanding.

“Her first thought was HIV, and she panicked,” Marlena offered.

“I’d have thought the same,” Bill admitted. “I obviously did.”

“We all need to be kind to ourselves,” she said. “All of us.”

Bill knew she was talking about him, and he appreciated it.

“She was also annoyed with Cornelius because the van wasn’t fully stocked. There were no splints or fiberglass to cast Joe.”

Bill’s heart sank. He knew that they were low on supplies because of his bad financial situation and that Cornelius opted to keep them in the clinic itself, not in the van.

“I think we could all use some compassion and maybe some iced tea,” she added gently.

Bill nodded, appreciating her warmth.

Marlena took down glasses from the shelf as Bill retrieved the tea from the small fridge. Only four glasses were on the shelf, plus one nearly out of reach.

Bill retrieved his glass from the high shelf as Patch came from the exam room leading Joe by the hand. Joe’s wrist was in a sling, supporting the bright yellow cast Kayla had fit so perfectly on him.

“Hey, pal,” Bill said, smiling. “Look at you.”

“This one’s a tough little cookie,” Kayla said with a sigh.

“Like his daddy, I bet,” Marlena offered.

“Tough as nails,” Patch said, giving Joe their special high-five with his opposite hand.

Joe tapped his daddy’s hand and finally managed a smile.

As Patch kissed Joe on the top of his head, Kayla turned to Bill, who was relieved. They shared a look.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you out there, Bill,” Kayla said apologetically.

“Can we drink to that?” he asked lightly.

“Sure,” Kayla nodded, glancing at her husband and son.

The mood had shifted, and the warmth of their camaraderie had returned.

“Tea all around,” Bill suggested.

“Let me help you,” Marlena offered as Kayla and Patch comforted Joe.

Bill took a pitcher of brewed tea from the small fridge as Marlena retrieved the glasses from the open shelves, including the one with the gold “H.”

“Tea for you, too?” Patch asked Joe.

The little boy nodded, and Marlena handed Patch a glass for the toddler and one for himself.

Kayla accepted hers from Bill, and they all raised their glasses.

“To friendship,” she said with a smile.

“Amen,” Bill agreed.

As they drank in silence, the door opened again and Cornelius entered, startled to see the assembly.

Having calmed down, Kayla gave him a half smile. “I forgive you, too, Cornelius.”

“Great,” he answered, wondering why. As she tipped her glass, he realized all of them were drinking tea and he noticed that the glass from the high shelf was missing. From the way they were holding the glasses he couldn’t determine who had the glass with the “H.” The glass that was dusted with powdered Rohypnol.

One of them got the roofie
, he realized.
If there’s a God, let it have been Bill.

Scarlett took a long drink from a cup of black coffee as she and John sat at one of the tables next to the pool.

“Thanks. I guess I needed this,” she said as she lowered the cup from her lips.

“One cup’s not enough to sober you up,” he said pointedly.

“Do you really want me sober?” she asked flirtatiously.

“Want to tell me where all this is coming from?” John said.

Neither John nor Scarlett was aware that Charley had seen them together at the spa. If John had known, he’d have followed Charley.

“I’m a woman, you’re a man—”

“And you’re not looking to get laid, you’re looking to be protected,” he answered. “You were shaking like a leaf earlier. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Maybe if you tell me what’s going on with you two and Charley Gaines.” Scarlett was nothing if not direct.

“Long story,” John dodged.

“Mine, too,” Scarlett answered. She glanced away, thinking about the danger she’d stumbled into and the proposition she’d made to Cornelius.

“You’re still shaking,” John said as he attempted to get her to open up. He could almost feel her mind whirling.

“I’m cold,” she lied, forcing a smile.

“In hundred-degree weather. I rather doubt that.” He knew she was lying, but he knew not to push. “If you were going for a massage, you could have it in your suite. But I’m sure you know that.”

“Or I could have it in yours. I heard your wife’s out doing her good deeds for the day,” she said as she batted her baby blues.

“If you’re in some kind of danger, I’d like you to tell me. I’ve worked in various kinds of law enforcement, even been a cop. I might be able to help you.”

The revelation made Scarlett’s blood run cold. Or you might get me killed, she thought.

“Always did love a man in a uniform,” Scarlett said glibly as she rose from her wicker chair.

As she stood, she stumbled but managed to catch herself.

“Right now, Miss O’Hara, you need to get some rest,” John said firmly. “Let me have someone get you an escort.”

As he moved into the spa, Scarlett’s bravado slipped.

“Maybe a few hours in bed alone would do me some good,” she said softly.

And I’ll figure out how to get out of this mess I’ve gotten myself into.

***

Uuka escorted Scarlett back to her suite. As she entered, she saw it was bustling once again. Ashley and the assistant were rapidly going through wardrobe with Nikki.

“Hey,” Scarlett said. She was still a bit of a mess: barefoot, with a few scratches on her legs, and her hair drying naturally after her outdoor shower.

“Hey,” Nikki answered.

“We’re shooting on the game ride tonight and then in the Bedouin tent set up under the stars,” Ashley informed her curtly. “Your wardrobe’s here. Everyone’s in cream. No discussion.”

“Would you like me to try it on?” Scarlett asked.

“It’ll be fine,” Ashley said. “We’ll see you later.” Then she turned to Nikki and addressed her warmly. “Thanks for being such a professional.”

Nikki nodded as they exited. Scarlett, though, was hurt. The production team was as cold to her as it was hot outside, and John’s attempts to calm her vanished.

“If you’d have found those dead rhino, you’d have freaked, too.” Scarlett spat.

“Jobs are hard to come by these days, and our reputations are all on the line. You know that. Brigitta’s probably not going to be able to shoot again tonight so everyone’s on edge,” Nikki reminded her.

“Does anyone realize I’m the one with the most to lose?” Scarlett shouted. “I’m
thirty-nine
, for God’s sake. Next year I’ll be old enough for the cover of
MORE
!”

“I’m getting some beauty rest,” Nikki said. She always tried to be nice, but even she was getting fed up with Scarlett. “Maybe you should, too.”

Nikki strode out and closed the door, leaving Scarlett alone and more frustrated than ever.

“My life was also just threatened, dammit,” she said, near tears. “Not that anyone cares…”

***

The high-canopied bed looked luxurious with its Pratesi sheets, but it also looked lonelier than ever. Scarlett was truly scared. Sure, she’d stood up to Cornelius, and that was something. But she realized that if she said a word to anyone there, she could end up dead. When Cornelius had spoken to her, she’d realized he had the eyes of a killer.

Why didn’t I tell John Black? she thought to herself.

Her hand went to her right eye.

Because I want that rhino horn for myself, she admitted.

She tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths, but that didn’t work. She tried meditation next, but that lasted for less than sixty seconds.

When all else fails…the hair of the dog, she thought wryly.

She took the two remaining miniature bottles of vodka from the minibar and drank them straight. As she shook off the potent aftertaste, the phone at her bedside table rang, startling her.

Who wants to land on me now? she wondered.

She looked at the phone and contemplated not answering.

Maybe Cornelius?

Finally, she couldn’t take the ringing anymore so she answered. Her eyes lit up when she heard Jackson’s voice.

“You don’t know how much I needed this right now, baby,” she slurred. “How are you?”

“Things have been better,” Jackson admitted. He was calling from Chance’s loft in Soho. “In other words, life right now is shit.”

“I hear you, lover.”

“Aside from not being able to get work since it hit the fan last summer and my flat heading for the auction block, my fiancée thinks I broke up with her because of you.”

Scarlett sat back, taking it all in.

“Your flat’s going on the auction block?” she asked through her haze.

“I’m calling to ask you to tell her it isn’t true.”

“I need you, Jackson.”

“Aren’t you listening to me?” he snapped.

“Not that way,” she answered with a soggy lilt in her voice. “We were good together. And now I have a way we can both make oodles of money. Not exactly Richie Gaines kind of money but major cash, and I know if there’s anyone I can trust with my life it’s you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jackson was more frustrated than ever. But as a financial pariah, he was willing to listen to any idea about making money.

Jackson sat stunned as Scarlett told him about her encounter with Cornelius. She refused to reveal the poacher’s name, but she assured Jackson she knew this was the real deal because she’d overheard the exporters discussing it.

“How do I fit in?” he asked.

Scarlett reminded her ex that he’d run his father’s financial empire, not to mention overseeing his mother’s hugely successful OMG fashion house. In other words, he had talent and moneyed contacts galore.

“Isn’t that killing an endangered species?” Jackson asked with a tone of disbelief.

Chance reeled as he overheard.

“If I back out, I’m the one who’s endangered,” Scarlett said. “Besides, it is so common here. Think of it like Big Game hunting, only better. Instead of a trophy for your wall, you’ll get buckets of money, money, money.”

There was silence on the phone.

“Can I count on you, Jackson?” she asked softly.

There was a longer silence. “Can I count on you to talk to Abby?” he finally asked in return.

When the call was over, Jackson sat in stunned silence.

“What was that all about?” Chance asked as he poured his brother a shot of tequila and handed it to him.

“Scarlett and some unbelievably dangerous scheme she stumbled on,” Jackson admitted.

“Endangered species?” Chance said incredulously.

“Rhino,” Jackson nodded, his expression sobering. “We never should have let Charley go down there.”