Key West (34 page)

“Was he into punishment?”

“What do you mean by that?” Romano asked softly.

“I think you know.”

“Sonnie likes you. I’m glad. She needs friends.”

Chris thought being Sonnie’s friend
was
a dandy idea. Being her lover was a downright stimulating thought. He pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. He’d better rein himself in before there was a disaster.

“You understand that I mean what I say. She
has
always been unbalanced, but so worth helping. And her whole family wants her to have that help, including me. I am a member of her family also.” He made a choking sound.

“You okay?” Chris asked reluctantly.

“Yes.” Romano didn’t sound okay. “I am sad tonight. You will understand such things.”

Chris frowned. Was the guy saying he knew more about him than he ought to? “Are we finished?”

“No, no, please. I must plead for my brother—for his reputation in your eyes. I have said Sonnie is unbalanced. That is not new. Frank stayed away as much as he did because he couldn’t deal with her anymore. I did not condone that behavior, but...well, Frank was afraid he might do things he would hate himself for doing.”

Chris stiffened. The hair on the back of his neck rose—a sure sign of one of his bad feelings coming on. “A violent man, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.”

“It’s over now. I will not speak badly of him. Life must go on, and the time comes to put such things behind us. A great many women have admired Frank. How can you blame him for succumbing to what they offered? They wanted him as their lover and they wanted to do things for him. Many wanted to give him a great deal. No, you cannot blame him.”

“Maybe you can’t. I can. I’m just an old-fashioned boy and think someone should have shaken him up. Pointed out what he had, and whipped the shit out of him if he didn’t get the message.” So much for lady-appropriate language.

“I will not allow you to say such things about my brother.”

“I just did.”

“Please help me to finish what I must say. There is a great deal to be done and none of it is easy.”

Chris thought about that. “I can’t help you do anything. But I can listen if you think you’re ready to get this over with.”

“Sonnie did not get a call from Frank tonight—late last night.”

It was true that midnight had come and gone. “Go on.”

“She told me he gave her all the same instructions as he gave on the last occasion he called. That was before we were due to fly to Key West on that terrible night.”

Chris wasn’t going to do any prompting.

“It is senseless for her to suggest Frank called and said all those things.”

“Maybe not. What about the Volvo? He asked her to be ready to drive it to the airport. It was junked months ago but evidently he didn’t know. That would fit with his being abducted and finding a way to escape later.”

“It might if he were alive.”

At the mention of the Volvo, Sonnie had sat up in bed and was looking at him. “What do you mean?” Chris said.

“Is it so difficult to understand?” A clear sob broke from the man. “I have taken my business into near bankruptcy in order to pay some exclusive people who know how to find things out. Very difficult, sensitive things. I paid them to search for my brother. They tell me he died only hours after he was kidnapped.”

Chris also sat up. “You’re sure?”

“Would I lie about such a thing?” The words were barely audible. “It is my worst nightmare come true.”

“I’m sorry.” He considered what Romano had told him. “What proof do you have that you’ve been told the truth?”

“Why do you care? Isn’t this what everyone has thought, that Frank is dead?”

“Maybe.”

Romano said something in Italian; then he told Chris, “My brother wore a medallion. A gold medallion. He never took it off. It was his good luck, he said, his reassurance. I am holding that medallion in my hand. It was taken from his body.”

Chris said, “I’m sorry,” again. What else was there to say?

“I ask you to do one thing for me, please. Sonnie is close to you.”

“You don’t know that,” Chris responded at once.

“That was not a criticism. I am glad. She does not feel kindly to me at the moment. Please tell her about Frank. And tell her that when she’s ready, we will talk and deal with matters that must be dealt with.”

Tell Sonnie her husband was dead, killed by kidnappers? “I don’t think that’s a good way to do this.”

“I think it’s the only way.” Romano’s voice rose. “She will not let me comfort her. You, yes, I think she will allow you to give her comfort and to calm her. I ask you to prepare yourself, then tell her. And be ready to help her. She must go into intensive therapy to deal with the great traumas that have happened. We are all ready and anxious to make sure she gets the very best attention.”

Now wasn’t the appropriate time to engage in further discussion. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do my best. And I’ll be in touch.” He’d be in touch to try to figure out exactly what was afoot with the Keiths and Romano. If they trotted out a plan to incarcerate Sonnie at Jim Lesley’s clinic, he’d have a battle on his hands.

“Thank you,” Romano said, distant and formal again. “I shall await your report.”

“You do that.” Chris switched off the instrument and set it aside.

He scooted higher in the bed and arranged the pillow behind his back. On her thin strip of mattress, Sonnie did the same. “Who was that?” she asked. “Romano?”

There would be no lying to her. “Yes.”

“How would he get your cell number?”

Chris held very still.
Good point.
How would Giacano get his number? “You should go into detective work. I hadn’t even thought about that. I don’t know.”

“You didn’t give it to him?”

More conspiracy theory. “No, Sonnie. I’d have no reason to do that.”

“Then how would he get it? Who knows it?”

He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “You think I’m doing things behind your back. You couldn’t be more wrong. So Roy has my number, and Bo and Aiden.” He considered before saying, “And you. Yes, that’s it. I can tell you without a doubt that no one else has it—or they shouldn’t. Roy, Bo, and Aiden would never give it out.”

“But you think I might?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I wouldn’t and I haven’t. You’re a private man and I wouldn’t do anything to intrude on that.”

He smiled a little. “Thank you.”

She fussed with the sheet, rubbed her face, adjusted her nightie on her shoulders. “I’m not very good at remembering numbers.”

“You’re not alone. A lot of people have troubles like that.”

“Do Roy and Bo?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They wouldn’t write the number down somewhere so they wouldn’t forget it?”

This could be leading somewhere. “They wouldn’t do that because I’ve told them not to. Aiden’s got a photographic memory.”

“Lucky Aiden,” she murmured. “I...I have to write everything down—if I want to remember at all.”

“You remembered mine once.” He picked up the phone again and played mumblety-peg with it on his knee.

“I don’t know why,” Sonnie said. “It was a fluke. Oh, Chris, it’s on the dry-marker board by the kitchen phone.”

“That explains it,” he said. “Lighten up. So Romano decided to help himself just in case.”

“He hasn’t been here since I put it there.”

“So Billy did it and passed the number on. It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Billy hasn’t been here either.” Her tone grew higher, more agitated. “I want to know who’s been snooping around. I don’t like it.”

“You’re making too much of this. I’ll ask Romano where he got my number. Will that make you feel better?”

“No. Don’t ask him anything. If he’s gone to such lengths to get your number, he may be up to something.”

“Okay.” He held his tongue then to give her some breathing time.

“Chris?”

“Yep, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got your number written in the book beside my bed, too.”

“I’m glad. I hoped you would make sure you could find it easily, just in case you wanted to get hold of me.”

Sonnie said, “What if one of those people who got in here saw the number? In my book or by the phone downstairs? If they gave it to Romano it would mean he’s involved in all this somehow.”

From the moment Chris met Romano, he hadn’t liked him. And he’d also come to wonder just why the man was hanging around Key West when his sister-in-law had made it clear she didn’t want him there. He had no right to force himself on her. He could be involved in something, although Chris doubted it. “Don’t imagine things about Romano, Sonnie. He seems to be genuinely concerned for you.”

“Why do you always accuse me of imagining things? I don’t unless there’s a reason.”

When should he break the news about Frank? “I’m sorry if that came off sounding wrong. I think it’s natural to imagine things around here, although I think my being here is going to put a crimp in the style of anyone who thinks it’s cute to torture you.”

She sighed. “Yes. If you don’t decide you have to leave. Not that I expect you to change your whole life for me,” she added rapidly.

“I’m here because I want to be here. Ι wouldn’t go if you asked me to. You’d have to throw me out, and I don’t think you could manage that.”

She sighed again, but didn’t sound sad.

“Sonnie, there’s something I need to tell you. It won’t be easy. First I want you to promise me you’ll be calm. But if you want to get mad or cry or something—do it, but do it with me and let me help you.”

Her face came his way and within a second she was on her knees beside him. “What? What is it? Did something happen to my parents? Is one of them ill?”

“This has nothing to do with your parents. It’s your husband.”

She put her hands to her cheeks. “What about him?”

“Romano asked me to tell you some sad news. Sonnie, Frank died only hours after he was kidnapped.”

Her hands remained on her cheeks. He could see the glitter of her eyes in the almost-darkness.

“Your family will all be ready to help you. Romano asked me to tell you that. When you’re ready, they’ll want you to tell them what you need.”

Sonnie shifted sideways to sit down. “I don’t know what to say. What am I supposed to say?”

Whatever it was, those two questions didn’t seem appropriate. “I can’t tell you that.”

“I suppose I’m shocked.”

“Of course you are.”

“Not the way you mean.” Unconsciously, she smoothed her nightie up her thigh and massaged her hip where the leg of her panties was cut high.

“You loved him,” he told her. “You’re bound to be shocked.”

“You don’t understand. I’m shocked to hear about it, but I’m not sorry about Frank. Chris, I’m not sorry he’s dead.”

“You are in shock,” he said. “I’ll go get some more brandy.”

“I’m wobbly inside. It’s unbelievable. Maybe I’m sorry he’s dead for his sake, but not for mine. He was never kind to me. I don’t know why he married me. He didn’t want our baby. He told me pregnant women were ugly and he didn’t like ugly women. He used to say he wished I would die because he was tired of having the responsibility for me. Even though he really didn’t. I looked after myself.”

Chris didn’t try to stop her. She needed to let it all flow out.

“I sound selfish and cruel.” Her head hung forward. “What kind of woman thinks about herself when she’s just been told her husband’s dead? Some sort of a monster. That’s what I have to be. He was Billy’s friend first. Then it was almost as if they planned for him to marry me. That’s stupid, a stupid thing to think. Billy encouraged it, but that made me happy. She wanted me to be happy, and she thought Frank could do that—make me happy. I don’t feel anything.”

“Will you let me say what I think, Sοnnie?”

“I suppose the family’s waiting for me to be a grieving widow. Oh, what do I do now?”

“You let someone help you.”

“They’ll help me right into a sanitarium.”

His thoughts exactly, although he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just looking for reasons to snatch her away from the family and friends he’d met so far.

He wanted her for himself. “You’ve had nearly nine months to think. In that nine months you’ve gotten accustomed to the probability that Frank wouldn’t be back. He wasn’t a good husband. You’ve admitted as much. And you feel some relief in knowing he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“Is that it?” she asked. “Maybe it is, but I don’t want to be a hard woman.”

“You aren’t a hard woman, Sonnie. You’re so gentle it almost hurts to watch and listen to you sometimes. Stay put. I’m going for the brandy. I think I need some myself.” He got out of bed, and remembered his shorts too late. He grabbed for them and pulled them on, hoping she hadn’t seen more than she ought to.

In her bedroom, Wimpy had abandoned the foot of the bed in favor of burrowing under the sheets and settling down with his head on a pillow. Chris pulled a sheet up to his chin and was rewarded with a one-eyed stare before the animal snuffled and shut him out. He took the glasses and the bottle and returned to his own bedroom.

Sonnie had turned on a lamp.

She confronted him—naked.

Twenty-three

“I’ve never been”—Sοnnie tried to moisten her dry mouth—“I’ve never been impetuous.”

Chris looked at the glasses of brandy in his hands as if he’d forgotten they were there. Or as if he were buying time to think.

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to get started on plastic surgery. They say they can do wonderful things now.” She stood with her right side toward him, hiding as many of her scars as she could. Laughter bubbled into her throat. She swallowed. “I’ll always limp, but I won’t look so—”

“Stop it. Don’t say another word. Please.”

He was shocked. He’d already let her know he didn’t want her advances.

Advances.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who made advances. She struggled to pick up her nightie from the bed without turning around and giving him a full view of her back.

“My God, you don’t know anything about me,” Chris said.