Decode (Luke Series, #7) (3 page)

I ask the hired car to
drop us off on Belvedere so we can stroll through the Jubilee
Gardens. As soon as we exit the car, the August heat presses in on
me. I hoist Rhianne into my arms as Violet takes Lucas’s hand. Her
hair is pulled away from her face in two braids that meet at the
back of her head, while the rest of her hair falls in perfect waves
down her back. She’s dressed in jeans and a soft blue T-shirt
today—maybe she’s beginning to understand Luke better than I had
anticipated.

The bodyguard Luke hired
for us exits the vehicle behind ours once we’ve gotten at least ten
meters from the car. Luke knows I don’t want the bodyguard too
close so the children don’t feel they have a reason to be
frightened.

I once took Lucas to the
Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle when he was four years old. The
bodyguard stayed close to us, on my orders, and Lucas—always being
a bit precocious—asked if he was there to protect us. It dawned on
me at that moment that if my four-year-old child already understood
the purpose of the bodyguard, that he would always see this fear of
being recognized and harassed as being normal. From that day on, I
decided that my children would never see their bodyguards. They
would be normal. Or, as normal as they can be.

“I love London,” I
whisper as we walk along the curved stone pathways toward the
London Eye. “I don’t care if it’s a glorified Ferris wheel.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,”
Rhianne says as she twists the front of my T-shirt in her chubby
fingers.

“Baby, you just ate
lunch. We’re going to have tea with Daddy in an hour. Aren’t you
excited?”

She smiles and nods
vigorously as I switch her over to my other hip when my arm gets
tired. We make it to the Thames boardwalk where I turn around to
see Lucas’s reaction to seeing the London Eye up close. Lucas and
Violet are gone.

Chapter Four

My vision gets blurry
as the adrenaline surges through my veins. Without thinking, the
first thing I do is scream Lucas’s name. At least a hundred people
in the vicinity turn toward the sound of my cry and I don’t care. I
want to put Rhianne down so I can race through the green fields of
Jubilee Gardens, but I can’t. I set her down on the stone path and
grab her hand tightly. The frightened look on her face breaks my
heart.

“Baby, you have to run
with Mommy. Can you do that?” I ask as I kneel before her and dig
my hand into the back pocket of my jeans to retrieve my cell
phone.

I hit the power button,
but nothing happens.
No, no, no, no!
I
forgot to charge my phone when we went to sleep this morning. Luke
told me I would regret not using the solar-charging cell phone
case.

“Mommy, is Brother
lost?”

The innocent anguish in
Rhianne’s three-year-old face, skin so delicate and flushed pink
with the summer heat, is what brings me back to the present moment.
Lucas is with Violet. They probably wandered off when Lucas saw
something interesting. I don’t see Ian, our bodyguard, anywhere. He
must be with them. They’re safe. They have to be safe.

“No, baby, Lucas is with
Violet. He’s not lost. We just have to find a phone to call them
because Mommy’s phone’s not working. Can you walk while we look for
a phone?”

She nods, but she still
looks worried. I pull her into my arms and squeeze her until she
giggles. I release her and the smile on her face is like a beacon,
guiding me back from a moment of near panic.

I stand and take her hand
as we walk through the crowds back toward Belvedere to look for a
payphone. I consider asking a stranger to borrow their cell phone,
but the last thing I need is to be held up by someone who
recognizes me. Part of being married to Luke means being in the
public eye. I always speak at his conferences. I even starred in a
promotional video with him a few years ago where the two of us are
dancing to a bouncy indie pop tune. At the end of the video, it’s
revealed Luke is actually on the opposite side of the ocean and
we’re both using Maxwell Computers’ as-yet-released holographic
calling app Be, for “be there, anytime, anyplace.”

I wish Luke could
be
here right now.

My eyes scan the fields
of grass in the gardens as we walk along the path. I try not to
yank Rhianne too hard as I drag her this way and that way at the
slightest whim of my instincts. Finally, we reach Belvedere with no
sign of them and my heart plummets. I want to break down, but I
can’t do that in front of my baby girl.

I scoop Rhianne up into
my arms and set off toward Chicheley Street. I contemplate asking
the constable guarding the gates to Chicheley if I can borrow his
cell phone, but I decide against it. He’ll want details and I don’t
need a massive search initiated when Lucas is with his nanny and
bodyguard.

I continue down Chicheley
and decide to turn in under the purple awning for the Premier Inn—a
building that looks like it’s been around a couple of centuries.
The lobby is dimly lit and two clerks, a young man and woman,
wearing purple polo shirts are chatting behind a beech wood
check-in counter.

“May I help you?” the
young man asks as I approach, his eyebrows perked up and his
British accent smooth as his chestnut skin.

“Yes, I hope you can
help. I was separated from my nanny and she has my son. I need to
call her, but my mobile phone just died. I don’t see any phone
booths around here. Would you mind terribly if I used your desk
phone?”

He looks to girl standing
next to him with her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. She’s
obviously younger than he is, but she must be his superior. She
eyes me with suspicion and I want to reach over the counter and
shake her. I’m not asking for a free hotel room. I just want to
make a damn phone call.

“All right,” she relents.
“But be quick.”

“Thank you so much.”

I sit Rhianne on the
counter and take the cordless handset from the girl: Beth, as it
says on her name tag. I quickly dial the country code followed by
Violet’s number. The phone rings four times before her voicemail
greeting comes on.

You’ve reached Violet. Sorry I can’t take your call. I
must be doing something fun without you. Leave a message!

God, I hate her voicemail
greeting. I dial Luke’s number, but the call goes straight to
voicemail. He must still be in his meeting. I don’t know Ian’s
phone number. Luke programmed it into my phone, but I never
programmed it into my brain.

I’m lost.

“Where could they have
gone? They were right behind me,” I whisper aloud and Beth and her
coworker, Terry, are at a loss for words. “Why isn’t she answering
her phone?”

Suddenly, I’m furious. As
soon as we get home, Violet is fired!

“Should we call the
police?” Beth asks as she wrestles the phone from my grip. “You did
say your child was missing.”

I can’t help but feel as
if this all has to do with Violet’s crush on Luke. What if she
planned to be separated from me so she could find a way to get Luke
alone?

That’s ridiculous.

“Madam?” Beth
insists.

“Please give me a
moment,” I reply as I slide Rhianne off the counter and into my
arms.

I’m torn between going
back to the gardens to search for Lucas and Violet or hopping into
a cab to find Luke. The driver who dropped us off at the gardens
won’t be back to pick us up until after he’s retrieved Luke from
the Kema offices in Covent Garden.

That’s it! Maybe Violet
and Lucas took a cab back to the Kema office.

“I have to go,” I declare
as I race out of the lobby with Rhianne bouncing on my hip.

Bounding down the steps
of the inn, I immediately spot a taxi slowing down on my right. I
sprint toward the street and the cab stops right in front of the
inn. The driver exits and assists the passengers—a young Asian
couple—with their bags.

“Where are you off to?”
he asks, smiling as he holds the door open for me.

I set Rhianne down inside
the cab and motion for her to scoot down so I can follow. “Kema on
Tavistock,” I reply as he slams the car door shut behind me.

Chapter Five

Stepping out of the
Hudson House, I immediately check my voicemail and text messages. I
have a text message from Violet that confuses me. She’s on her way
to the Hudson House with Lucas and Ian. That’s odd. I was supposed
to pick them up at Jubilee Gardens. And why aren’t Brina and
Rhianne with her?

I immediately call Brina,
but the call goes straight to voicemail. I follow with a call to
Violet and she picks up on the first ring.

“Luke. Our cab just
pulled up in front of the building,” she declares.

“Where’s Brina?” I ask as
I cross the lobby.

“We got separated in
Jubilee Gardens. Lucas took off to play on the little wooden things
they have for the kids. I had a heck of a time wrangling him. By
the time we made it to the Eye, Brina was gone.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Why
isn’t Brina answering her phone?”

“I don’t know.”

I step out the front door
of Hudson House. Lucas is pouting on the sidewalk and Violet is
standing behind him with her arm locked around his shoulders,
presumably to keep him from running off again. I tuck my phone into
my pocket and try not to look too annoyed.

“You should have waited
for Brina at the park. She would have found you eventually.”

“We looked for her at the
park and on the boardwalk, but she was gone,” Violet replies
defensively.

“It’s almost 2:30. Let’s
hope she went back to the hotel.”

There’s no way I’m going
to miss tea with Rhianne. If Brina got separated, I know that’s
where she’ll go. She knows how much this means to my girl.

The driver is already
waiting for us in front of Hudson House. He opens the door for us
to get into the backseat and I wait for Violet and Lucas to enter
first. When I slide in, Violet gives me a look and I know what
she’s thinking.

“Not here,” I say quickly
before she can bring it up in front of Lucas.

Violet leans over Lucas
to buckle his seatbelt and her hand repeatedly grazes my hip as she
attempts to get the clip into the buckle. Finally, I take the
seatbelt from her and stick it in myself.

“Take us to the hotel.
Quick. We have a three o’clock,” I bark at the driver in
frustration.

Chapter Six

I don’t have a very
good sense of direction, especially not when I’m in a different
country, but something tells me we should have arrived at the Kema
offices by now. And I don’t think we’re in Covent Garden. Of
course, I’ve only been to Covent Garden once, over two years ago,
for a show. I’ve been dying to come back to London to see
Singing In the Rain
on the West End, but
Luke said we wouldn’t have time to see it during this trip. This
trip is becoming more and more disappointing.

The cab begins to slow as
we come upon the corner of Park Lane and Oxford Street. This
doesn’t look right.

“Here we are,” the driver
declares and Rhianne attempts to jump off the seat, but her
seatbelt confines her.

“What is this?” I
ask.

“This is the Marriott. Is
this not the correct destination?”

“No,” I reply quickly.
“No, not at all. I said Kema on Tavistock.”

“Oh, dear. I apologize. I
thought you said, ‘Take me to the Marriott.’”

I groan with frustration
and instantly feel guilty when I glance at the rearview mirror and
see the apologetic look on the driver’s face. “It’s all right. Can
you please take me to the Kema offices in Covent Garden. I don’t
know the address.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know
what Kema is. I’ll have to call in to dispatch. It will be just a
moment.”

I fall back into my seat
and close my eyes as I realize we are going to be late for
afternoon tea.

“Mommy, are you
tired?”

I open my eyes and
Rhianne’s looking up at me with those big, brown eyes Luke loves to
kiss when he puts her down to sleep at night. I smile at her and
lean over to lay a kiss on her forehead.

“No, baby. I’m not tired.
I’m going to try to get us back to the hotel in time for afternoon
tea, but we might be a little late.”

“Where’s Daddy? We can’t
have tea?”

I don’t have a watch to
check the time so I look into the front of the cab, hoping to see a
digital clock somewhere, but all I see is red numbers on the meter,
which is still running. I hope I have enough pounds to pay for this
cab ride.

“Excuse me, sir? Do you
have the time?”

The gentleman looks over
his shoulder and smiles. “Just got the address, ma’am. Time’s
2:38.”

Twenty-two minutes until
teatime. I don’t know how far I am from the hotel or from the Kema
offices.

“I’m sorry, sir. Can you
just take us to Claridge’s?”

“Oh, absolutely. I know
where that is.”

Great.

“Thank you. Do you know
how long it will take to get there?” I ask as he pulls the cab away
from the curb.

“Oh, should take
roundabouts ten minutes, ma’am.”

Finally, a small sliver
of hope.

Chapter Seven

After sending Ian back
to Jubilee Gardens to make sure Brina and Rhianne didn’t return, we
leave the Hudson House and arrive at the private hotel entrance on
Davies Street a few minutes before three. The doorman nods as he
holds the door for us to enter the Causerie—the hotel bar. I carry
Lucas in and Violet enters ahead of us. The bar at Claridge’s is
known for being one of the best in the world. The great, late
Spencer Tracy once said, “Not that I intend to die, but when I do,
I don’t want to go to heaven. I want to go to Claridge’s.” It takes
a great deal of self-control not to sidle up to the bar with Lucas
in my arms and ask for their best bourbon, to wash away the stress
of the past thirty minutes.