Hearts of Glass (The Glass Trilogy Book 3) (3 page)

“Isn’t it crazy that you and I were able to get married just like that?” I hear Kristin’s fingers snap to emphasize her point. Snapping me out of my reverie. “Only in America. Vegas really does cater to the lowest denominator of human being. I mean, imagine that! That all we had to do was show up with a witness in tow, and you and I were married five minutes later! I know, honey, you can’t remember, and well, I was going to do the right thing and get this union annulled. Because we never even consummated our marriage. We were both too sozzled to have sex. We hadn’t even been in touch since our wedding—God knows, I was too busy with my research work. And then you had this accident, slipping on the floor, and I knew that I was the only person with the right skills to look after you. I didn’t want anyone interfering. So, you know, us being married is a good thing.”

She maneuvers my body so I am now lying on my side. Her voice rattles on. “What a crazy coincidence. Two people close to me falling into comas! And both times my being in the right place at the right time. What are the odds of that? Millions to one! That’s why I know this is all meant to be. I’m becoming quite the coma specialist. Fascinating. And you really have enhanced my life. The two of you. It’s such fun being this rich! Natasha was more than generous in her will. Sorry you missed out on that. And I had no idea quite how loaded you are, Daniel. How come you don’t flash your money around more? I mean, seriously, baby, you should have been having
fun
with your wealth. If I had your looks as a man, I’d be lining up twenty women at a time, partying more! And there you were, hanging out with that skinny little actress with the big, brown, innocent eyes—like I can really imagine how much of a sport she must be in bed, that is, if you even got that far with her. Cute, but clueless. Not like Natasha. She was a
real
woman. Such a shame her life was cut so short!

“Shut the fuck up, you nutter!” my grey matter screams.

“Did I just see you twitch, Daniel? We can’t be having that now, can we? Got to keep you nicely tucked up in your coma until I figure out what your future holds. Because I have been toying with the idea of administering a drug to make this wiener of yours stand to attention, although right now isn’t the best time of the month for me. And I’ll need to administer some fertility drugs for myself first. After all, I’m no spring chicken. I mean, at forty-two it isn’t easy. And I always did want a child. Or do you think having a baby would be too taxing at my age? I have to admit, the idea of being woken up to breast feed in the middle of the night is hardly appealing. Actually, it’s pretty gross. I’ll need to mull this idea over first. No, you know what? I don’t think having a baby would be a good idea after all. And I guess, when I’m in charge of your money—well, the money that the greedy trustees aren’t controlling—I don’t really need you to be around at all.”

I can swear I hear myself groan but Kristin’s verbal diarrhea cannot be stopped.

“You may be asking yourself why I need the extra money. You think I like just being a doctor? Okay, it
is
a prestigious job and the pay isn’t bad, but it’s not about that . . . I want fame, Daniel. I want to discover a cure for Alzheimer’s or muscular dystrophy. I want to be a medical star, go down in history books, in scientific journals. That’s why I need extra money, don’t you see? I need my research projects funded. It’s like God is on my side. He wants me to succeed. That’s why I inherited Natasha’s money.” She laughs. A raucous, secret-joke sort of laugh. “Shall I tell you a little dark secret? Maybe I’ll hold on a little longer until I know what to do with you. Then I can let you in on my secret. Well, okay, I’ll tell you. Why not? You might even find it funny . . .”

She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “Wait . . . someone’s coming.”

4

Janie.

A
S I WAS tucking the Bellagio chip deep into my jeans’ pocket, my cell rang. For some reason it made me jump out of my skin. I was tired, jittery, and starving hungry. It was Pearl Chevalier. I heaved a sigh of relief.

“Pearl, thanks so much for calling back.”

“It’s not Pearl,” the stranger’s voice said. She had a French accent.

“Oh, hi,” I replied. “Pearl’s not there?”

“I’m her niece, Elodie. Alexandre’s niece.”

“Hi Elodie, yeah, Pearl once mentioned you to me.”

“Pearl’s on vacation with my uncle. She left her phone behind.”

I was amazed that a woman in Pearl’s position would forget her cell, but then I remembered the “no contact” policy.

“I know you, Janie,” Elodie said.

I had no recollection of meeting Elodie, but I didn’t want to be rude. “You do?”

“I saw you in
Where The Wind Blows
. Crazy, but I feel like I know you personally.”

That happened to me a lot. Being an actor means you are familiar to complete strangers. It isn’t uncommon for people you’ve never met before to be telling you their darkest secrets. You are their friend, their confidante. In this instance, though, being Elodie’s friend wasn’t a bad thing at all—I figured it would help me get in touch with Pearl.

“I read your text,” Elodie continued. “That’s why I’m calling you back because it looked important. I’m going to find out more, but I think my mother has mentioned this woman Kristin Jürgen to me. And not in a good way. Her name sounds really familiar.”

I told Elodie the whole story, trying to keep my voice down so Ethan wouldn’t hear. It unnerved me to be revealing all this to a total stranger, yet at the same time, just sharing all my troubles gave me a sense of liberation. I understood as I spoke, though, she must think it was all really far-fetched. There was silence on the other end of the line. I wanted to scream with frustration. Nobody believed me.

“I can help you,” Elodie said, finally. “You have no idea the kind of shit I’ve had to deal with in the past.”
Deal wiz in zee past,
her accent said. Cute. Just knowing that someone, anyone, was offering to help me, lifted my spirits. Although I’d been hoping to reach out to one of the Chevalier’s hotshot attorneys, not Alexandre’s niece.

“Have you been to the cops?” she asked.

I rewound the Kristin saga in my head. This super-successful neurologist who had received awards for being such a fabulous doctor, and me, the love-struck actress accusing this respected neurologist of trying to murder the man I was in love with. I knew any normal policeman would think I was crazy. “Not yet. My story sounds so nuts, I’m not sure if they’d believe me.” I glanced over at Ethan, who was stealthily eyeing me up and down.
Damn, I wonder if he’s heard.

“Good. Don’t call the cops for now—I’m sure we can sort this out,” Elodie advised.

“Hang on, don’t go anywhere, hold the line.” I zipped up my case and made for the door, wheeling my suitcase behind me.

“Wait up! Miss Cole, let me call you a cab,” Ethan shouted after me.

“I’m fine, thanks, I’ll get one on the street. Elodie, are you still there?” I struggled through the swing door.

“Where are you right now?” she asked.

“Outside Daniel’s hotel, which I’ve been asked to leave. Look, I need a lawyer.”

“Sounds to me like you need a bodyguard, first and foremost.”

I smiled. Her accent was adorable:
‘first and foremost.’
She had a point about my needing a bodyguard, considering the fiasco in the hospital with Kristin.

“No, seriously. I’m going to make a call,” she said.

“Is there any way you can contact your uncle? Or Pearl?”

“Believe me, every contact my uncle has, I know about. He and I are very close. You want help? Look no further, I’m your girl.”

La Femme Nikita
? I admired Elodie’s bravado, but wondered how much of it was B-S. But I was hardly in any position to turn down help. Why hadn’t Star called me back?

“I’m going to hang up and make some calls,” Elodie said. “Meanwhile, I’ll send a text message, which you need to respond to. This way, I’ll know where you are, so don’t, for fuck’s sake, lose your phone.”

I frowned. “What are you saying, you’ll know where I am? You mean if I call you?”

“Your cell will be like a GPS the second you return my text. I can keep you traced. Keep your phone with you at all times. Never leave it lying around. Got that? I’ll call you back.” She was gone. A few seconds later a text came through that said,
It’s me.
I replied,
Thank you,
and felt relieved to know that Elodie had my back. She was quite the sleuth, and I wondered how the hell she knew all this undercover stuff. I seemed to remember Pearl telling me she was in her early twenties, around the same age as me, but I couldn’t recall what she told me Elodie did for a living. Although with an uncle as wealthy as Alexandre Chevalier, I guessed she never needed to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to.

I hailed a cab and went to the Bellagio. I cashed in my chip. I had never in my life carried that kind of hard cash in my purse, and it terrified me. I wanted to deposit it in the bank but didn’t have time for all that now. Every second was ticking, and I needed to find Daniel. I assumed Kristin had moved him to a different wing of the hospital.

I checked into a room, right there at the Bellagio—after all, I could afford it now. I grabbed some snacks from the mini bar and took a lightening-fast shower. I shoved the cash and my valuables in the room safe, then left.

I punched in Elodie’s number. She was fast to pick up.

“I was just about to call,” she said. “Sorry it took so long. You okay?”

“Worried sick about Daniel.”

“Paul is on his way.”

“Paul?”

“The bodyguard I’m sending. Ex cop. He knows the law. He has contacts with the Vegas police and NYPD. He’s your man. He can go with you to the hospital and you’ll be safe. Wait for him outside the main entrance to the Bellagio. Meanwhile, I have a private detective on the case. She’s finding out stuff about Kristin Jürgen, looking into the marriage with Daniel and checking out her past. Well, to be honest, my girl’s not an
official
private detective, as such. Better than that. A Hacker. A good one, too. And a very fast worker. She can find any shit out in the blink of an eye. I’ll keep you posted. Remember, keep your phone close to you at all times.”

“How will I know what Paul looks like?”

But Elodie had hung up. I called her back but it went to voicemail. I assumed she was on the line with the hacker.

“Miss Cole? Janie Cole?”

I turned around and to my relief a man was standing before me.
Fast work
! He had a friendly, open face but looked tough enough to protect me, although slimmer than I had imagined a bodyguard would be. I saw my reflection in his mirrored sunglasses. I looked harrowed, my face gaunt. I still hadn’t had time for a proper meal, not even a sandwich.

“Paul? You’re Elodie’s . . . um . . . friend? You’re here to protect me?”

“That’s right,” he answered with a smile. “I’ve been sent to protect you.”

“Thank God you’re here. We need to get to the hospital.”

“Yes, we do,” he answered smoothly. “Come with me.”

I followed him to his car that was parked in the valet section, although he hadn’t given anyone his keys. His walk was a swagger, his big black boots and buzz-cut a testament to his tough demeanor. He looked as if he’d walked off the set of a TV cop show. A movie star type of ex-cop, not an ex-cop you’d expect in real life. He opened the back door for me, and I slid in. He was taciturn but polite. I guessed bodyguards were trained to be that way. The strong silent type.

“So how do you know Elodie?” I asked, settling into my seat.

“Through work.” He started the engine and drove out of the hotel parking lot.

“You work for her uncle too?”

“I freelance. Got a lot of clients but don’t tend to discuss them, if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure,” I said, a little unnerved. “You know where we’re going?”

“Absolutely.”

There was something in the way he said, “absolutely” that should have given me the first clue. I looked out of the window at the Strip passing by us. Nervously, I fumbled in my purse for my phone. I wanted to call Elodie, check this guy was who he said he was. Actually, he hadn’t even introduced himself at all! I’d simply assumed things.

But when I pulled out my phone, my heart tumbled to my stomach and rocketed to the floor. It was out of goddamn battery! Had I brought the charger? Of course I fucking hadn’t! Maybe Elodie had called. My stomach churned.

“Paul, do you use an iPhone, by any chance?”

“No, a BlackBerry.”

“You don’t have one of those generic phone chargers, do you?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“Damn. Can we quickly stop at the Apple Store, please? Or somewhere I can buy a phone charger for my iPhone?”

The locks on the door clunked shut. All of them. Simultaneously. I knew I was in serious danger. Oh, fuck! Adrenalin spiked through my veins like heated gasoline about to burst into flames. “Paul” did not answer. He just looked in his rearview mirror, his head slightly cocked, his reflective shades giving nothing away of the probable menace in his eyes.

“Excuse me, did you hear what I said? I’d like to stop and buy a phone charger, please.”