Dark Valentine (23 page)

It did not seem wise to answer honestly, so Rhianna cut into her waffle and replied, “Let’s just say, I don’t want to create a problem.”

He took time out from carving up his steak. “Here’s my scandal. I don’t cuss. I don’t hit my ladies. But I gotta be straight. Itty-bitty white girls, I just wanna get you home.”

“That’s very candid.” Rhianna bathed a piece of waffle in syrup. “I’m sure you must be popular.”

Her dinner companion chewed efficiently. Between forkfuls of egg, he said, “You ever been with a brother?”

“No.” Rhianna didn’t care that this was not the kind of conversation she would normally have. Her life was a disaster and all bets were off.

“Any time you looking for a man to give you that special feeling.” Notorious took a card from his top pocket and slid it across the table.

Rhianna thanked him and put the card in her purse. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the focus of every other diner. Even the kid with the Game Boy had stopped playing to turn around and stare.

“You going to California?” Notorious asked.

“Arizona,” Rhianna said, pushing her plate to the side.

“I got business there,” he said. “You wanna roll in my Mercedes?”

Rhianna laughed. “You don’t give up easily.” She picked up her purse and fished around for her wallet.

“It’s on my tab,” he insisted, waving her money away.

“That’s very kind of you.” Rhianna stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and it’s time I got some sleep.”

Notorious reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. After planting a courtly kiss, he said, “It’s not my intention to hurt you, baby.”

Rhianna was not sure how to respond to such a strange farewell, but she supposed he was worried he might have offended her. To reassure him that she had taken his flirtation in good humor, she said, “I had a terrible day before I came here, Notorious. Eating dinner with you was the only good part of it.”

He grinned. “Keep my number.”

Chapter Thirteen

You had dinner with her?” Werner almost swallowed his toothpick. He could not believe the story he’d just heard.

“You asked me for her name,” Mr. Hard pointed out, sounding affronted. “How you suppose I discover that if I can’t get close to her?”

Werner didn’t want to think about an enormous black man “getting close” to Rhianna. “The name, do you have it?”

After a long pause, Hard said, “Kate Lambert.”

Werner had to stand up. He couldn’t sit still. Lately he had contemplated speaking to his doctor about restless legs syndrome. It appeared he might be afflicted.

“Kate Lambert,” he gloated softly. Twenty thousand dollars wisely invested.

“What you want with her?” The gangster actually had the effrontery to sound mistrustful.

Resenting the tone of his question, Werner replied, “As I said, I’m going to marry her.”

“Damn. I thought you was a dreamer.
You
her daddy?”

Werner was familiar with this euphemism from eating in the kitchen with the cook and her grown-up sons occasionally. Mr. Notorious Hard was not referring to a parent. “Rhianna is my wife-to-be,” he confirmed impatiently.

“How long you been with her?”

Werner remembered not to sound disrespectful, but this was a business conversation. “Mr. Hard, I’m not sure why this information is relevant to your assignment?”

“I’ve been thinking.” The tone was reflective. “I told my momma I would be something. So I made my life all about the Benjamins. But what she think about this shit? That’s got me stressing.”

Belated scruples from a man who was probably a pimp. Werner rolled his eyes. “Where are you now?”

“Arizona. I gotta roll out, man. I see her.”

“Make sure she doesn’t see you,” Werner instructed. “Just follow her to her house, then drive away. All I need is an address and your job is done.”

“You need to make something right with this girl? You fucked up? That what this about?”

“You might say that,” Werner replied cagily.

“Sometimes, you gotta cut your losses.”

“Thank you for the advice.” Werner sniffed. “Call me when you have that address.”

He dropped the receiver back in its cradle and paced around the library for a few minutes, pondering his next move. Werner prided himself on being a patient man. He’d waited a long time for Rhianna to come to her senses and appreciate all she was being offered. But she had put him through hell, and it was time for her to see the error of her ways.

He had tried the romantic approach, but look where that got him. His mother was still infuriated and Werner could understand why. She had endured public humiliation and Rhianna’s behavior had cost her a fortune. Werner could put up with a lot on his own account. He could forgive Rhianna for her foolishness toward him. But if there was one thing that made him really angry, that was having his mother upset. In that regard, his policy was zero tolerance. Rhianna would have one more chance to do the right thing, and if she decided to be difficult, the consequences would be upon her head.

Werner had hoped he would not have to resort to Plan B, but he no longer had any choice. A curious thrill made his pulse jump. The hour was upon him, and his reward was well-deserved. He felt a pang of regret that he would have to lock her away from the world until she understood her role. He had wanted her on his arm at the events he usually attended as Mommy’s escort. He could almost feel the envious stares of other men. But he could wait a few more months.

Images crowded his mind, each one featuring Rhianna. He pictured her in the courtroom, taking the stand. How modest and frail she had looked, and how confused she was. He could tell from the way the prosecutor browbeat her that she had been coached in her testimony. They had used her. They had turned her against him. It would take time to win her over, he thought, but the task would be very stimulating.

He had created a comfortable prison for his reticent bride and had given serious thought to her re-education. She would have to earn her privileges. At first she would be in the basement room; then, when she showed sufficient gratitude and compliance, she would occupy the luxurious suite he had prepared. It had taken four months to complete the renovations on the home he’d purchased for this purpose. He had started the project the moment he discovered Rhianna had left Denver.

Werner stopped pacing and leaned against the edge of his desk, gratified by his foresight. The timing could not be better. Rhianna had been forced to confront the truth in the courtroom; he had Julia Valiant to thank for that. He disliked the woman intensely, and he could tell the acrimony was mutual. But he owed her a debt of gratitude all the same, and he was big enough to admit it.

One day, if he showed enough strength of purpose to bring his plan to fruition, Rhianna would be able to look back upon the trial as the most important turning point in her life. She would understand why Werner had to take the steps he was taking, and recognize that he had to be strong because she was weak. Finally she would grasp that he knew her better than she knew herself. He alone saw her potential. For that, she would love him.

*

At the sound of a knock, Rhianna wiped her face on her pillow and got up off the bed to open her door.

Bonnie stood in the hallway with two cups of herb tea, her customary recourse when her nerves were shattered. “It’s been three hours,” she said. “I can’t listen to you crying anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” Rhianna let her in. “With all the soundproofing, I didn’t think anyone could hear.”

“Okay, so I had my ear to the door.”

She followed Rhianna into the small living room and they both sat on the sofa. For a few minutes they sipped their tea.

“I’m not stupid,” Bonnie said, “You walk in the door looking like someone died, then you hide in your room as soon as Alice is asleep. Talk to me.”

Rhianna had already decided to come clean with her good-natured employer. She had never felt okay living under the Mosses’ roof without telling them her name. “Well, let me see. For starters, I’m not Kate Lambert. My real name is Rhianna Lamb.”

Bonnie did not speak at first. Rhianna suspected she was coming to grips with the idea that Kate did not exist. “Rhianna. That’s pretty.” Bonnie studied her curiously. “And your hair. Is that your real color?”

“It’s close,” Rhianna said.

“I knew you were a platinum blonde.”

“I used to wear it long.” Rhianna set her tea down on the occasional table near the sofa and pulled her journal down from the bookcase. She extracted the photographs she’d tucked inside the cover and handed them to Bonnie. “This is me, two years ago.”

Bonnie’s mouth parted in astonishment. “That’s incredible. I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

Rhianna looked down over her shoulder. “It seems like a long time ago. I don’t feel like the same person.”

Bonnie handed the photos back. “Why did you go to Denver?”

“The man I told you about…he was on trial for raping me.”

“Oh, my God.” Bonnie went pale and some of her tea spilled. She put the cup down and wiped her lap. “I don’t know what to say. Oh, my Lord. You should have told us.” She hesitated. “That came out wrong. Obviously, it’s entirely up to you what you say about your private business.” She stopped talking again. Her shoulders shook. “Oh, Kate…Rhianna.”

“It’s okay.” Rhianna found a box of tissues and sat down again, giving Bonnie a hug.

“This is nuts.” Bonnie blew her nose. “Here I am crying, and you’re comforting me, and
you’re
the one who had to deal with this. I’m sorry. Just give me a minute. Okay?”

“I apologize for not telling you the truth,” Rhianna said. “I intended to. I just wasn’t—”

“Don’t even start down that track.” Bonnie raised her hand in protest. “You did what you had to do. I know what it’s like. I helped women change their identities and relocate when I was working at the refuge.” She shivered. “These men don’t know when to stop.”

“He stalked me for nine months, then he raped me,” Rhianna said. “And when they finally got around to arresting him, they let him out on bail. Now he’s been found not guilty.”

Bonnie’s color changed from white to red. “There’s something wrong with that picture.”

“His family is rich. They hired a fancy defense team. That’s the other thing.” Rhianna tried to say the words evenly, but her voice fractured. “Jules…the woman who sent me the flowers. She was his defense attorney.”

“No!” Bonnie gasped. “I don’t understand. How could she—”

“It’s a long story,” Rhianna said. “I made a mistake.”

“She represented the man who raped you?” Bonnie squeaked.

“She didn’t know. At least I don’t think she did. I’m not sure about anything, anymore.”

“You need a stiff drink.” Bonnie set aside the herbal tea in disgust. “Come on. I’ve got a new frozen-margarita recipe I want to try out.” She dragged Rhianna into the kitchen and set up the blender.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Rhianna said as Bonnie upended a bottle of Cointreau into a measuring cup.

“It’s the best idea I’ve come up with all day, apart from blowing up old man Entwhistle’s truck with him in it.”

“He still hasn’t covered that pit?” Rhianna perched on one of the high stools at the counter.

“Lloyd thinks he wants us to buy him out.” Bonnie measured some triple sec and sloshed it into her mix. “The irony is, if he would make us a realistic offer, we’d be willing to negotiate. Instead he thinks he can force our hand by making a nuisance of himself.”