Obsession Falls (38 page)
“When I was in the Coast Guard Academy, we went to South Carolina for spring break. It is beautiful.”
Go back.
“But not like
this
beautiful. Here I feel as if the wild places are calling my spirit to soar.”
Maybe Sienna was right. Maybe Kateri
was
old, because she didn’t ever remember being that earnest.
“Once I got here, I started looking around for something I could do to support myself. Be independent. I’ve got a business degree. I knew I could figure
something
out. You know what they say—find a need and fill it.”
“I’ve heard that.” With every one of Sienna’s chirpy words, Kateri’s headache expanded.
“I realized the tourists need box lunches to take on their day trips, and when the tourists are gone, the locals still have to eat. I talked to the Bayview Convenience Store and convinced them to let me use a corner as a deli, and I created—”
“My God.” Light dawned. “You’re Sienna’s Sandwiches.”
“You’ve heard of me!” Sienna beamed. “Not just sandwiches, though. We make salads, cookies, and sides, and we package them attractively in recyclable boxes with the plastic cutlery tied into the bow. Our food is all organic, and we have vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free.”
“Of course you do.” Kateri had ordered from Sienna on days when she was working, when cooking was too much of an effort and standing hurt her joints. Mrs. Golobovitch always brought a platter of Sienna’s sandwiches and cookies to the quilting group, and claimed she had made them. Everyone pretended to believe her; they wanted those sandwiches.
“I started with me and one other worker, and I’m up to eight people working part- to full-time. I’ll probably have to cut back after the holidays, and it remains to be seen if the tourists will return in the spring, but right now … I’m hopeful.” Sienna’s blue eyes gleamed.
“You’ll do great.” Kateri’s head hurt. The room was spinning. Her vision was blurred. Since she was already sick and miserable, she figured,
What the hell,
and asked, “How did you meet Luis?”
“Oh. Luis.” Sienna’s expressive face changed from optimistic and enthusiastic to adoring. “I went down to the Coast Guard station to grab Layla for drinks, and he was there. He’s cute, you know, but grim and intimidating, and I thought he needed cheering up. So I talked to him, and afterward Layla told me I was the only person she knew who could make him laugh.” Sienna was animated and sunny.
Of course
she cheered him up.
Kateri turned her walker backward, lowered the seat, and sank down on it.
Sienna continued, “So every time I saw him, I made it my goal to make him laugh, and then he asked me out. I never thought I would be interested in an older man—”
Luis was a year younger than Kateri.
“—but like I said—cute!—so I said yes. And now I can’t imagine life without him.” Sienna frowned. “I simply don’t understand why Commander Adams hates him so much.”
After her first dance, Summer never stopped. One man after another followed Mr. Romance, laughing, chatting, complimenting her costume, her beauty, her repartee. She felt exotic, mysterious, daring. For the first time in over a year, she fit into society without worrying about the future and how she would survive.
She did
try
to worry; she felt somehow it was wrong not to. She knew she had reason to be careful tonight, for everywhere she looked, she saw Michael Gracie. That man with his arm around his male partner. That man leaning against a pillar, talking to a full-sized, fabulous feminine bird of prey. That man with the glittering skin and vampire teeth …
So many men in this room fit Michael Gracie’s description, and yet … somewhere in the depths of her mind, she was convinced she would know him if she saw him. He was tantalizing. Dangerous. A viper in a crystal vase full of roses.
Less lethal but more immediate, there was Kennedy McManus. If his furious gaze meant anything, he had recognized her. And judged her. Judging was what Kennedy did.
His superior attitude made her more determined to fling herself into having a good time. And it was easy; the spirit of Mardi Gras had possessed the band. They belted out rock classics and whirling waltzes. The trumpet player and the clarinetist took turns on the solos, and a gorgeous flapper in sequins and fringe spontaneously leaped up on the stage, took the microphone, and crooned jazz standards in a voice that could have easily won
American Idol.
As Summer whirled from one handsome partner to the other, the worries of the last months fell away.
Then, as she was dancing with a young Gandalf, Kennedy plucked her from the wizard’s arms and swung her away across the ballroom. She gaped at him, surprised, appalled, and, oh God, pleased. He had come for her. He had stolen her away.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What are
you
doing?” Not the cleverest retort, but for a few moments she had been so happy, so guilt-free. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”
On the attack. Good, Summer.
Or maybe not. “All your talk about caution, and you’re here, and you’ve been dancing with anyone who asked.”
“I wouldn’t be safe at home.” As they whirled in circles across the floor, he held her close, body to body, leading her in a waltz that left her breathless.
Yet his harsh tone was a counterpoint to the music. “Is your story all a scam, a lie? Was every moment a manipulation of my emotions?”
“No. No! Why do you think that?”
“As my mother proved, I am blind to a woman’s machinations.”
She was outraged. “I haven’t manipulated you! When … why do you think that?”
“I offered you marriage, but you were outraged, yet tonight you dance and flirt with any man.”
“It’s a party. I’ve been in fear of my life for a
year
. Tonight … I’m having fun.”
“Just like my mother.” He lashed her with scorn. “You make up pretty stories to make yourself look good, to seem vulnerable, to soften the next sucker to your scam. And this time, that sucker was me.”
“I don’t do that.
I didn’t do that.
Why would you believe such a thing?”
“You’re lying right now. You told me you didn’t drink, and yet you’re drunk, or on drugs.” Without regard to the couples dancing around them, he stopped and pushed her mask up and off. “You should see your eyes. Your pupils are huge.”
“I’ve been drinking water!”
He dropped her mask and left her in the middle of the dance floor, staring after him, trembling and … she was standing still, but the room was spinning around her.
Why? Why was it spinning?
Beneath the sounds of music, conversation, and laughter, she heard the rustling of silks and the pulsing of impatience as everyone flirted and dreamed of romance, money, sex, and success.
She covered her ears.
But still she could hear the feelings, the hopes, the fantasies.
She took a breath. Exotic scents filled the air: passionflowers and lilies, oranges and strawberries, cinnamon bark and gingerroot. She could feel the colors as they brushed past, rainbows that blurred as they caressed her skin, were absorbed into her bloodstream. They whispered to her to run, to fly, to be free …
But how could she so distinctly smell those scents? How could she feel the colors? If she didn’t know better, she would say she
was
drunk or high.
No. No! She drank only water. She knew it! She remembered …
She looked around. Even now, men flocked toward her. All evening, they had laughed at her jokes, complimented her style, fought over the right to dance with her. In all her life, she had never been so popular. She had never been the most-sought-after woman at the party.
Kennedy was right. Something was very wrong. Very, very wrong.
Water. She’d only had water. But … but it was bubbly. Flavored. It could have been drugged …
She swayed and tried to
concentrate
.
She had picked a glass at random from every tray offered her. If hers was drugged, then every glass was drugged and everyone who drank water from that same tray had also been …
An outcry sounded by the entrance.
Summer swiveled to face it.
Margaret Smith had collapsed. She was sprawled on the floor. Guests and staff ran toward her, surrounded her.
Margaret … drank the water.
Kateri … drank the water.
Summer looked for Kateri, and saw her sitting on the seat of her walker, her eyes closed and an expression of pained concentration on her face.
Kennedy was right.
They all had been drugged.
Who would do such a thing? Who could be so ruthless?
Who wanted Summer dead?
One man. Michael Gracie.
No time. Summer had to do something. Now.
Tell Kennedy.
She had to tell Kennedy. He was the only one who could help her. Them.
Summer started toward him.
A waiter—the waiter?—loomed before her. The grin painted on his lips was grotesque. His real grin was even more grotesque. He was a nightmare come to life. “Can I get you something?” he asked. “More water? Another canapé?”
“You … you did this!” She tried to walk around him, toward Kennedy.
“Ah. The truth at last.” He took her arm. “Come this way.” His voice sounded different. Raspy. No accent.
“Michael?” She tried to struggle, to tear herself away. “No. Not Michael. Jimmy.”
“Very good, Summer.” He leaned close. “You know me. You fear me.”
“Yes…” It was disorienting to look into this man’s face and see nothing real but the dark, hard glitter of his eyes. Disorienting, and terrifying. Her staff was gone. Her belt was home. She had no way to defend herself. So she balled up her fist and took a swing at him. She missed, swung in a circle, stumbled and fell.
She looked up and saw Kennedy observing her. “Please,” she mouthed.
He turned his back.
In her hour of desperate need, Kennedy turned his back to her.
Jimmy helped her up. He lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed her little finger. “Poor thing. You tried so desperately to escape me. All you did was postpone the inevitable.”
She fought.
Her dance partners surrounded her, only now these men were not suitors. They were security guards. They held her while Jimmy removed her horned headdress. He handed it off, then swung her into his arms.
She screamed, and heard one of the men surrounding them loudly say, “She’s hallucinating. These things happen at these parties.”
The crowd parted.
She saw Kennedy. She held out her hands to him.
Jimmy walked toward the door. “Don’t bother. He is a slave to the memories of his past, to his parents’ crimes and his mother’s manipulations.”
“We’re all … slaves to our past. You … are a slave to your past.”
“True. But he’s not smart enough to see what’s before his eyes. A few years ago, I set up an accidental meeting with him—not accidental at all, of course. And he didn’t even recognize me.” Jimmy’s smile was sharp as a razor blade. “Do you know how that made me feel?”
“Small,” she said. “Kennedy makes everyone feel small.” And that was his fatal flaw.
“He will recognize me now,” Jimmy said.
As they passed through the door, she noted the loud, panicked babble around Margaret.
“How could you have done that to her?” Summer muttered. She didn’t even know if she was forming the words correctly. “She could … die.”
But Jimmy heard, for he shrugged. “She’s an old woman.” He kissed the top of Summer’s head. “Don’t worry about yourself, though. I checked before proceeding. You’re not taking any prescriptions. The drugs won’t be fatal to
you.
”
She wanted to slap him. But her arm fell and dangled. Her head lolled against his chest. Jimmy stopped, adjusted her, then strode on.
Crazed thoughts tumbled around her mind. Jimmy cared for her, supported her when Kennedy didn’t. Wanted her when Kennedy didn’t.
They stepped outside. The wind, the chilly salt air, the sound of the helicopter blades beating the air … they revived her. She fought again, but the security men took her, held her while Jimmy climbed into the helicopter, then efficiently handed her over, like a package, like a … like a corpse.
They shut the doors.
The helicopter rose.
Jimmy held her cradled against his side. He brushed her hair off her ear and murmured, “If you survive the game, you get to live.”
“It’s not a game.” Her voice was slurred, but she meant what she said.
“I make the rules. And I say it is.”
“Kennedy makes the rules.”
He ran his hand down her arm and across her breasts. “You’re very brave … considering how far it is to the ground.”
He was going to take her up over the forest—and drop her. She was going to die a horrible death. And she couldn’t even lift her head.
Kennedy had seen Summer fall. He had seen her appeal to him. He had taken a step in her direction.
Then the waiter helped her up, picked her up and held her so easily, they might have been lovers. And Kennedy heard someone say, “She’s hallucinating. These things happen at these parties.”
That halted Kennedy in his tracks.
He knew what she had done to him, yet all she had to do was look at him and mouth a plea, and he’d tried to go to her rescue.
Why had he come tonight?
Because he thought Summer might be here, and he wanted the chance to see her, explain, apologize.
Instead he realized he had been taken for a fool. He had studied her, analyzed her, offered her marriage. He had debased himself, confessed his humiliation at the hands of his own mother. And now he discovered the truth: Summer was like his mother, using his weakness against him, stage-managing him … laughing at him.
