Lancelot's Lady (19 page)

When Rhianna began to dance, Misty stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes wide.
"
What are you doing?
"

"
Dancing.
"

"
Why would you do that…dancing?
"

"
Because it
'
s fun.
"
Rhianna twirled.
"
You try it.
"

Misty attempted to mimic her. She hopped and swayed, giggling the entire time. Every now and then she
'
d sign,
"
I
'
m dancing.
"

It was a Hallmark moment, one Rhianna wanted to freeze and take with her when she left. She closed her eyes and swayed to the music. Lost in thought, she didn
'
t hear the front door open. Or the footsteps approaching.

"
What the hell is going on?
"

~ * ~

Furious, Jonathan strode over to the stereo. He turned it off, then slowly turned toward Rhianna. He had to take a couple of deep breaths before he found his voice.

"
What are you trying to do? Destroy Misty
'
s eardrums completely?
"

"
It won
'
t destroy her ears,
"
Rhianna argued.
"
I was just showing her how she can hear music.
"

"
In case you haven
'
t noticed, Ms. McLeod, my daughter is deaf. She can
'
t hear anything.
"

"
Well, in case you hadn
'
t noticed, Mr. Know-it-all, your daughter is having fun. From the look of all the dust on that stereo, fun is something you don
'
t know much about. Don
'
t you ever listen to music? Or are you too busy painting?
"

When Rhianna came up for air, he said,
"
The stereo belongs to my ex-wife.
"

"
So?
"

He shrugged.
"
So I don
'
t use it. I should
'
ve thrown it away. Or shipped it to her.
"

She gave him a smug look.
"
Oh, so you
'
re just a natural music hater.
"

"
I don
'
t hate music
,
"
he said in a tight voice.
"
I―
"

A blast of music cut him off.

Jonathan spun around, his breath catching in the back of his throat. Misty grinned back at him as she placed both hands, palms flat, on a speaker that was pumping out
"
Dancing Queen
"
lyrics. T
he smile that radiated from her was one of unmitigated joy.

"
Look, Daddy! I can hear the music.
"
She stomped her feet to the beat.

He swallowed hard, unable to speak.

"
Dance with your daughter,
"
Rhianna said.

With a little prodding, he caught Misty
'
s hands and spun her around in wobbly circles until they were both laughing and dizzy. When the music slowed, he lifted Misty until she was standing on top of his feet, and they danced slowly, without a word.

God, it had been years since he
'
d danced.

"
You two loo
k…perfect,
"
Rhianna said quietly.

The music soon kicked into high gear again and Misty tugged at his hand. He tried to teach her a few dance steps―the few he could remember―but he ended up tripping over his long legs and clumsy feet.

"
Not exactly Dancing w
ith the Stars,
"
he said, grinning at Rhianna.

She smiled back.
"
No. It
'
s far better.
"

"
You
'
ve turned her into a dancing maniac,
"
he said as he dropped into a chair, exhausted.
"
I knew I
'
d regret leaving Misty with you.
"

She gave him a hurt look.
"
What do you mean?
"

"
I
'
m joking.
"
He chuckled wryly.
"
Sorry for barging in and yelling at you.
"

She shrugged.
"
It
'
s okay. This is all new for you. I understand.
"

"
I don
'
t think you do,
"
he said with a sigh.
"
Not completely. When Sirena left us, I had a lot of resentment toward her.
"

"
I
'
m sure you did. She never wanted custody of Misty?
"

He shook his head.
"
No, and I never pressure her about that either. To tell the truth, I was afraid.
"

"
Of what?
"

"
Losing Misty.
"
He chewed his bottom lip.
"
Sirena is…flighty. She can
'
t sit still in one place for long. Eventually she would
'
ve disappeared. And taken Misty with her. I was relieved when she didn
'
t want custody. But I also felt guilty for being relieved.
"

"
Jonathan…
"

The way Rhianna said his name made him look away.

"
You did the best under the circumstances,
"
she said, touching his arm.
"
You
'
re a great father and Misty loves you.
"

"
I know. But I can
'
t help thinking I should
'
ve done more to keep Sirena in Misty
'
s life.
"

"
That
'
s Sirena
'
s choice. It always has been.
"

Rhianna was right. His ex-wife had made her choice.

Jonathan glanced at Rhianna.
And I
'
ve made mine.

Chapter 19

Back in his Miami home office, JT Lance sat behind a mammoth oak desk and thought about all the tough choices he
'
d made
over the decades―some that had resulted in something positive and some that had ended with tragic consequences.

And too many regrets.

The phone gave a shrill ring, jarring JT from his thoughts.
Winston Chambers
, the call display read.

He picked up the rece
iver.
"
You got your money, Chambers. We have nothing left to discuss.
"

"
Well, actually…we do.
"

JT hissed in a breath.
"
We had a deal. I paid you what you asked for and you were supposed to go your own way. You swore you would.
"

Chambers let out a taunting laugh.
"
And you believed me?
"
There was a tense pause.
"
I
'
ve run into a bit of a problem and I think you can help me fix it. Two hundred thousand should suffice.
"

Shocked, JT closed his eyes. He
'
d never be rid of Chambers at this rate. The man would drain him dry.

"
I can
'
t pay you any more,
"
he said, seething.
"
I won
'
t. Whatever you know, it
'
s not big enough to warrant being blackmailed like this.
"

"
Then I
'
ll tell her. Rhianna will know your secret.
"

JT swallowed a lump of guilt.
"
Then it
'
s time she does. I
'
ll tell her myself.
"

He glanced up as Higginson entered the room. On the pad on the desk, he wrote:
Chambers wants more $!

Higginson silently read it, then patted JT
'
s arm.

"
I
'
ll tell her tonight,
"
JT told Chambers.

Another laugh from the private investig
ator.

JT scowled.
"
What
'
s so funny?
"

The line went silent. Then he heard the click of a lighter. The sound of inhalation confirmed JT
'
s thoughts that Chambers had lit up a cigar. The man was taking his time, torturing JT―and enjoying every minute.

"
I know
Ms. McLeod has taken a little trip,
"
Chambers said finally.
"
Wire the money to me by the end of the week. If it
'
s not there, I
'
ll make you very sorry you crossed me.
"

Chambers hung up, leaving JT staring at the receiver.

"
He knows Rhianna
'
s not here.
"

"
Does he know where she went?
"
Higginson asked.

JT shook his head.
"
I don
'
t think so. Not yet.
"

"
How much does he want?
"

"
Two hundred thousand.
"

Higginson slumped in the chair across from JT.
"
Do you think he
'
ll follow through with his threat?
"

"
I don
'
t know.
"
With tear-filled eyes, JT stared at Higginson.
"
But I do know I don
'
t want that bastard anywhere near Rhianna.
"

"
What do you want to do?
"

"
I can
'
t pay him. If I do, he
'
ll keep wanting more.
"
A steely determination gripped JT.
"
He gave me until the end of the week.
"

"
What can you do in four days?
"

JT groaned.
"
I
'
m not sure.
"

"
The man is slime,
"
Higginson said, his jaw clenched.

"
Lower than slime. But it
'
s my fault he
'
s doing this.
"

"
JT―
"

"
Everything bad that
'
s happened is the result of one stupid choice.
"
A tear escaped and JT batted it away.
"
My past is catching up to me, but I have to make this right. For everyone.
"

Higginson sighed.
"
Tell me what I can do to help.
"

"
You
'
re a good f
riend, Higgie.
"

A slow chill of weariness settled into JT
'
s old bones and his mind wandered into the ominous gray fog that lured him in like a mythical sea siren calling a ship to its rocky doom. It confused him, this fog, this callous disappearance of thought and struggle for names or events.

He eyed Higginson in bewilderment.

What were we talking about?

~ * ~

Winston leaned back in his extra-wide chair and sucked thoughtfully on a slender cigar
―a bargain brand, only forty bucks a pack. The taste was darker, muddier, nothing like his precious Cohibas. But he only had one of the hefty beauties left, and he was saving it for a special occasion.

Would Lance pay?

He
'
d better, or Winston would make his life―what was left of it―a hell on earth. The reticence he
'
d heard in Lance
'
s voice suggested the old guy wasn
'
t feeling the pressure.
Yet.

The computer monitor in front of Winston displayed his withering bank account. His client list had diminished to L
ance and two others he
'
d milked
bonuses
from. Blackmail was far more lucrative than tracking down deadbeat dads or following cheating spouses, although he did enjoy taking photos of their sexual exploits.

He swiped his receding forehead with the back of his arm and it came away covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Outside the dingy one-room office, the sun was in sizzle mode, but it wasn
'
t the heat that was getting to him. Fear was eating away at his churning stomach. Popping three extra strength Rolaids into his mouth, he chewed quickly and drowned the chalky taste with a brandy chaser.

"
It
'
ll all work out in the end,
"
he muttered.

But would it?

He
'
d put down a large chunk of Lance
'
s last payout at the race track. He nearly had a heart attack when he lost it all. Now he had debts to pay. Some of the guys he owed wouldn
'
t wait much longer. Last time they paid a visit, he
'
d ended up in the hospital with two broken ribs and a mild concussion.

Winston picked up the photo of Rhianna McLeod.

"
I
'
ll make him pay me. One way or the other.
"

A devious plan began to percolate. There
was
a way for Winston to get a gigantic payout, easily a cool million. Threatening the old guy that he
'
d tell JT
'
s secret would only get him so far. This new idea would secure his future someplace overseas where no one could track him down.

"
JT
'
ll beg to pay me anything,
"
Winston said, kissing Rhianna
'
s likeness.
"
You
'
ll beg too, my dear. For something far different.
"