Sidney Sheldon (6 page)

T
HE SOUND OF
the plane buzzing low overhead brought a smile to Lois Reynolds’s lips.
Gary
. He was late. Lois had offered to go to the airport to meet him, but he had said, “Don’t bother, sis. I’ll take a taxi.”

“But, Gary, I’ll be glad to—”

“It will be better if you stay home and wait for me there.”

“Whatever you say, bro.”

H
ER BROTHER HAD
always been the most important person in Lois’s life. Her growing-up years, in Kelowna, had been a nightmare. From the time Lois was a young girl, she felt that the world was against her: glamour magazines, fashion models, female movie stars—and just because she was a little plump. Where was it written that buxom girls could not be just as beautiful as sickly-looking, skinny girls? Lois
Reynolds would constantly study her reflection in the mirror. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, delicate pale features, and what Lois considered a pleasantly full-figured body.
Men can go around with their beer bellies hanging over their pants and no one says a word. But let a woman put on a few pounds and she’s an object of scorn. What male moron had the right to decide that the ideal woman’s figure should be 36-26-36?

For as long as Lois could remember, her schoolmates had mocked her behind her back—“fat ass,” “tubby,” “porky.” The words hurt deeply. But Gary had always been there to defend her.

By the time Lois had graduated from the University of Toronto, she had had enough of the teasing.
If Mr. Wonderful is looking for a real woman, I’m here.

A
ND ONE DAY,
unexpectedly, Mr. Wonderful appeared. His name was Henry Lawson. They met at a church social, and Lois was immediately attracted to him. He was tall, thin, and blond, with a face that seemed always ready to smile and a disposition that matched it. His father was the minister of the church. Lois spent most of her time at the social with Henry, and while they were talking, she learned that he owned a successful nursery and was a nature lover.

“If you’re not busy tomorrow night,” he said, “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

There was no hesitation on Lois’s part. “Yes, thank you.”

Henry Lawson took her to the popular Sassafraz, one of the finest restaurants in Toronto. The menu was tantalizing, but Lois ordered a light dinner because she did not want Henry to think she was a gourmand.

Henry noticed that she was eating only a salad and he said, “That’s not enough for you.”

“I’m trying to lose weight,” Lois lied.

He put his hand over hers. “I don’t want you to lose weight, Lois. I like you just the way you are.”

She felt a sudden thrill. He was the first man who had ever said that to her.

“I’m going to order you a steak, some potatoes, and a Caesar salad,” Henry said.

It was so wonderful, finally, to find a man who understood her appetite and approved of it.

T
HE NEXT FEW
weeks went by in a delicious series of dates. At the end of three weeks, Henry said, “I love you, Lois. I want you to be my wife.”

Words she thought she would never hear. She put her arms around him and said, “I love you, too, Henry. I want to be your wife.”

T
HE WEDDING TOOK
place in Henry’s father’s church five days later. Gary and a few friends were there, and it was a beautiful ceremony, officiated by Henry’s father. Lois had never been so happy.

“Where are you two going to honeymoon?” Reverend Lawson asked.

“Lake Louise,” Henry said. “It’s very romantic.”

“That’s perfect for a honeymoon.”

Henry put his arms around Lois. “I expect every day to be a honeymoon for the rest of our lives.”

Lois was ecstatic.

I
MMEDIATELY AFTER THE
wedding, they left for Lake Louise. It was a spectacular oasis in Banff National Park, in the heart of the Canadian Rockies.

They arrived in the late afternoon with the sun sparkling over the lake.

Henry took Lois in his arms. “Are you hungry?”

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “No.”

“Neither am I. Why don’t we get undressed?”

“Oh, yes, darling.”

Two minutes later, they were in bed and Henry was making exquisite love to her. It was wonderful. Exhausting. Exhilarating.

“Oh, darling, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Lois,” Henry said. He stood up. “Now we must fight carnal sin.”

Lois looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Get on your knees.”

She laughed. “Aren’t you tired, darling?”

“Get on your knees.”

She smiled. “All right.”

She got on her knees and watched, puzzled, as Henry took a large belt from his trousers. He walked up to her, and before she realized what was happening, he smashed the belt hard against her naked buttocks.

Lois screamed and started to get up. “What are you—?”

He shoved her down. “I told you, darling. We must fight carnal sin.” He raised the belt and struck her again.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“Stay there.” His voice was filled with fervor.

Lois fought to get up, but Henry held her down with one strong hand and slammed the belt against her again.

Lois felt as though her backside had been flayed. “Henry! My God! Stop it!”

Finally Henry stood up and took a deep, quivery breath. “It’s all right now.”

It was difficult for Lois to move. She could feel the open sores
oozing. She painfully managed to get to her feet. She couldn’t speak. She could only stare in horror at her husband.

“Sex is sinful. We must fight temptation.”

She shook her head, still speechless, still not believing what had just happened.

“Think of Adam and Eve, the beginning of the downfall of mankind.” He went on.

Lois began to weep, huge gulping sobs.

“It’s all right now.” He took Lois in his arms. “It’s all right. I love you.”

Lois said uncertainly, “I love you, too, but—”

“Don’t worry. We have conquered it.”

Which means that will be the last time that happens,
Lois thought.
It probably has something to do with his being a minister’s son. Thank God it’s over.

Henry held her close. “I love you so much. Let’s go out to dinner.”

I
N THE RESTAURANT
,
Lois was barely able to sit down. The pain was terrible, but she was too embarrassed to ask for a pillow.

“I’ll order,” Henry said. He ordered a salad for himself and an enormous meal for Lois. “You have to keep your strength up, my dearest.”

During dinner Lois thought about what had just happened. Henry was the most wonderful man she had ever known. She had been taken aback by his—
what was it,
she wondered—
fetish
? Anyway, that was over. She could look forward to spending the rest of her life taking care of this man and being taken care of.

When they had finished their entrées, Henry ordered an extra dessert for Lois and said, “I like a lot of woman.”

She smiled. “I’m glad I please you.”

When dinner was over, Henry said, “Shall we go back to the room?”

“Fine.”

When they returned to their room, they undressed and Henry took Lois in his arms and the pain seemed to disappear. His lovemaking was sweet and gentle and was even more enjoyable than before.

Lois hugged her husband and said, “That was wonderful.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Now we must atone for carnal sin. Get on your knees.”

I
N THE MIDDLE
of the night, when Henry was asleep, Lois quietly packed a suitcase and fled. She took a plane to Vancouver and called Gary. At lunch, she told him what had happened.

“I’m filing for divorce,” Lois said, “but I have to move out of town.”

Gary thought for a moment. “I have a friend who owns an insurance agency, sis. It’s in Denver, and that’s fifteen hundred miles away.”

“That would be perfect.”

Gary said, “I’ll talk to him.”

T
WO WEEKS LATER
,
Lois was working at the midwest insurance agency in a managerial position.

Gary had kept in constant touch with Lois. She had bought a small, charming bungalow with a view of the Rockies in the distance, and from time to time her brother would visit her. They would have great weekends together—skiing, or fishing, or simply sitting on the sofa, talking.
I’m so proud of you, sis,
he’d always tell her, and Lois was proud of Gary’s accomplishments as well. He had earned his Ph.D.
in science, was working for an international corporation, and had taken up flying as a hobby.

A
S LOIS WAS
thinking about Gary, there was a knock at the front door. She looked out the window to see who was calling and recognized him. Tom Huebner. He was a tall, rugged-looking charter pilot, a friend of Gary’s.

Lois opened the door and Huebner walked in.

“Hi, Tom.”

“Lois.”

“Gary isn’t here yet. I think I heard his plane a little while ago. He should be here any minute. Would you like to wait or—?”

He was staring at her. “You haven’t been watching the news?”

Lois shook her head. “No. What’s going on? I hope we’re not going to get into another war and—”

“Lois, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Really bad news.” His voice was tight. “It’s about Gary.”

She stiffened. “What about him?”

“He was killed in a plane crash on his way here to see you.” He watched the light go out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved each other.”

Lois tried to speak, but she was hyperventilating. “How—how—how—?”

Tom Huebner took her hand and gently led her to the couch.

Lois sat down and took deep breaths. “What—what happened?”

“Gary’s plane hit the side of a mountain a few miles outside of Denver.”

Lois felt faint. “Tom, I’d like to be alone.”

He studied her, worried. “Are you sure, Lois? I could stay and—”

“Thank you, but please go.”

Tom Huebner stood there irresolutely, then nodded. “You have my number. Call if you need me.”

Lois did not hear him leave. She sat there in a state of shock. It was as if someone had told her
she
had died. Her mind started flashing back to their childhood. Gary had always been her protector, fighting boys who teased her and, as they got older, escorting her to baseball games and movies and parties. The last time she had seen him was a week ago, and she saw the scene in her mind, unspooling like a blurred film through her tears.

The two of them were seated at the dining room table.

“You’re not eating, Gary.”

“It’s delicious, sis. I’m not very hungry.”

She watched him a moment. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“You always know, don’t you?”

“It’s something to do with your work.”

“Yes.” He pushed his plate away. “I think my life is in danger.”

Lois looked at him, startled.
“What?”

“Sis, only half a dozen people in the world know about what’s happening. I’m flying back here next Monday to spend the night. On Tuesday morning, I’m heading for Washington.”

Lois was puzzled. “Why Washington?”

“To tell them about Prima.”

And Gary explained it.

N
OW GARY WAS
dead.
I think my life is in danger.
Her brother had not been killed in an accident. He had been murdered.

Lois looked at her watch. It was too late to do anything now, but in the morning she was going to make the phone call that would avenge her brother’s murder. She was going to finish what Gary had planned to do. Lois felt suddenly drained. It was an effort to get up
from the couch. She had had no dinner, but the idea of food nauseated her.

Lois headed for the bedroom and fell onto the bed, too tired to undress. She lay there, dazed, until she finally fell asleep.

L
OIS DREAMED THAT
she and Gary were on a speeding train and that all the passengers in the railroad car were smoking. It was getting hot, and the smoke made her cough. Her coughing woke her up, and she opened her eyes. She looked around in shock. Her bedroom was on fire, the blaze racing up the curtains, the room filled with smoke. Lois stumbled out of bed, choking. Trying to hold her breath, she staggered into the living room. The entire room was engulfed in flames. She took half a dozen steps toward the door, felt her legs give way, and fell to the floor.

The last thing Lois Reynolds remembered was the flames hungrily licking their way toward her.

T
O KELLY, EVERYTHING
was happening at a dizzying pace. She quickly learned about the most important aspects of modeling: the agency had given her training courses in image projection, poise, and carriage. Much of modeling was attitude, and to Kelly that meant acting, because she felt neither beautiful nor desirable.

The phrase “overnight sensation” could have been invented for Kelly. She projected not only an exciting, provocative image, but also an air of untouchability that was a challenge to men. Within two years, Kelly had risen to the top tier of models. She was advertising products in a dozen countries. Much of Kelly’s time was spent in Paris, where some of her agency’s most important clients were located.

Once, after a fashion extravaganza in New York, before heading back to Paris, Kelly went to see her mother, who looked older and more careworn.
I’ve got to get her out of here,
Kelly thought.
I’ll buy a nice apartment for her, and take care of her.

Her mother seemed pleased to see her. “I’m glad you’re doing so well, Kelly. Thanks for your monthly checks.”

“You’re welcome. Mother, there’s something I want to talk to you about. I have a plan all worked out. I want you to leave—”

“Well, look who’s come to pay us a visit—her highness.” Her stepfather had just walked in. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be strutting around in them fancy clothes?”

I’ll have to do this another time,
Kelly thought.

K
ELLY HAD ONE
more stop to make. She went to the public library where she had spent so many wonderful hours, and as she walked through the door, holding half a dozen magazines, her mind was dancing with memories.

Mrs. Houston was not at her desk. Kelly walked inside and saw her standing in one of the side aisles, looking radiant in a sleek, tailored dress, busily filling a shelf with books.

As Mrs. Houston heard the door open, she said, “I’ll be with you in a moment.” She turned. “Kelly!” It was almost a scream. “Oh, Kelly.”

They ran to each other and embraced.

Mrs. Houston pulled back and looked at Kelly. “I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing in town?”

“I came to see my mother, but I wanted to see you, too.”

“I’m so proud of you. You have no idea.”

“Mrs. Houston, do you remember when I asked how I could thank you? You said I could thank you by letting you see my picture in a fashion magazine. Here.” And Kelly put the pile of fashion magazines in Mrs. Houston’s arms. There were copies of
Elle, Cosmopolitan, Mademoiselle,
and
Vogue
. She was on the cover of each one.

“They’re beautiful.” Mrs. Houston was beaming. “I want to show
you something.” She went behind her desk and pulled out copies of the same magazines.

It took a moment before Kelly could speak. “What can I ever do to thank you? You changed my life.”

“No, Kelly. You changed your life. All I did was give you a little push. And Kelly—”

“Yes?”

“Thanks to you I’ve become a fashion plate.”

S
INCE KELLY VALUED
her privacy, her fame sometimes was troublesome. The constant barrage of photographers annoyed her, and she had what amounted to a phobia of being approached by people she did not know. Kelly enjoyed being alone.

One day, she was having lunch at Restaurant le Cinq at the George V Hotel, when a badly dressed man passing by stopped to stare at her. He had the pallid, unhealthy complexion of someone who spent all his time indoors. He was carrying a copy of
Elle,
opened to a page of photographs of Kelly.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said.

Kelly looked up, annoyed. “Yes?”

“I saw your—I read this article about you, and it says that you were born in Philadelphia.” His voice grew enthusiastic. “I was born there, too, and when I saw your pictures, I felt like I knew you and—”

Kelly said coldly, “You don’t, and I don’t like strange men bothering me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He swallowed. “I didn’t mean to—I’m not strange. I mean—my name is Mark Harris, and I work for Kingsley International Group. When I saw you here, I—I thought maybe you didn’t like having lunch alone and that you and I could—”

Kelly gave him a scathing look. “You thought wrong. Now I’d like you to leave.”

He was stammering. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just that I—” He saw the look on her face. “I’m going.”

Kelly watched him walk out the door, carrying the magazine with him.
Good riddance.

K
ELLY HAD SIGNED
to do a week of layouts for several fashion magazines. The day after her encounter with Mark Harris, she was in the models’ dressing room, getting dressed, when three dozen roses arrived for her. The card read:
Please forgive me for bothering you. Mark Harris.

Kelly ripped up the card. “Send the flowers to the children’s hospital.”

The next morning the wardrobe mistress came into the dressing room again, with a package. “Some man left this for you, Kelly.”

In it was a single orchid. The card read:
I hope I’m forgiven. Mark Harris.

Kelly tore up the card. “Keep the flower.”

A
FTER THAT, MARK
Harris’s gifts came almost daily: a small basket of fruit, a mood ring, a toy Santa Claus. Kelly threw them all into a wastebasket. The next gift that arrived was different: it was an adorable French poodle puppy with a red ribbon around its neck with a card:
This is “Angel.” I hope you’ll love her as much as I do. Mark Harris.

Kelly dialed Information and got the number of Kingsley International Group. When their operator answered, Kelly asked, “Do you have a Mark Harris working there?”

“Oui, mademoiselle.”

“Could I speak with him, please?”

“Un moment.”

A minute later Kelly heard his familiar voice. “Hello?”

“Mr. Harris?”

“Yes.”

“This is Kelly. I’ve decided to take you up on your invitation to lunch.”

There was a stunned silence, then, “Really? That’s—that’s wonderful.”

Kelly could hear the excitement in his voice.

“Laurent today, at one?”

“That will be great. Thank you so much. I—”

“I’ll make the reservation. Good-bye.”

M
ARK HARRIS WAS
standing, waiting at a table at Laurent, when Kelly strode in, carrying the puppy.

Mark’s face lit up. “You—you came. I wasn’t sure that—and you brought Angel.”

“Yes.” Kelly planted the dog in Mark’s arms. “She can join you for lunch,” she said icily, and turned to leave.

Mark said, “I don’t understand. I thought—”

“Well, I’m going to explain it for you for the last time,” Kelly snapped. “I want you to stop annoying me. Do you understand that?”

Mark Harris’s face turned a bright red. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—I just thought—I don’t know what to…I’d like to explain. Would you sit down just for a moment?”

Kelly started to say no, then sat, a look of contempt on her face. “Yes?”

Mark Harris took a deep breath. “I’m really so sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I sent you those things to apologize for intruding. All I wanted was a chance to—when I saw your picture, I felt as though I had known you all my life. And then when I saw you in person and you were even more—” He was stammering, mortified. “I—I
should have known that someone like you could never be interested in someone like…I—I acted like a stupid schoolboy. I’m so embarrassed. It’s just that I—I didn’t know how to tell you how I felt, and…” His voice trailed off. There was a naked vulnerability about him. “I’m just not good at…at explaining my feelings. I’ve been alone all my life. No one ever…when I was six years old, my parents got a divorce, and there was a custody battle. Neither one of them wanted me.”

Kelly was watching him, silent. His words were resonating in her mind, bringing back long-buried memories.

Why didn’t you get rid of the kid before she was born?

I tried to. It didn’t work.

He went on. “I grew up in half a dozen different foster homes, where nobody cared….”

These are your uncles. Don’t bother them.

“It seems I couldn’t do anything right….”

The dinner is lousy…. That dress is the wrong color for you…. You haven’t finished cleaning the bathrooms….

“They wanted me to quit school to work at a garage, but I—I wanted to be a scientist. They said I was too dumb….”

Kelly was becoming more and more engrossed in what he was saying.

I want to be a model.

All models are whores….

“I dreamed of going to college, but they said with the kind of work I would be doing, I—I didn’t need an education.”

What the hell do you need to go to school for? With your looks, you could peddle your ass….

“When I got a scholarship to MIT, my foster parents said I would probably flunk out, and should go to work at the garage….”

College? You’ll waste four years of your life….

Listening to this stranger was like hearing a replay of her own life.
Kelly sat there, deeply touched, feeling the same painful emotions as the stranger seated across from her.

“When I finished MIT, I went to work for a branch of Kingsley International Group in Paris. But I was so lonely.” There was a long pause. “Somewhere, a long time ago, I read that the greatest thing in life was to find someone to love, who loved you…and I believed it.”

Kelly sat there, quiet.

Mark Harris said awkwardly, “But I never found that person and I was ready to give up. And then that day I saw you…” He could not go on.

He stood up, holding Angel in his arms. “I’m so ashamed about all this. I promise never to bother you again. Good-bye.”

Kelly watched him start to walk away. “Where are you going with my dog?” she called.

Mark Harris turned, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Angel is mine. You gave her to me, didn’t you?”

Mark stood there, nonplussed. “Yes, but you said—”

“I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Harris. I’ll keep Angel, but you can have visiting rights.”

It took him a moment and then his smile lit up the room. “You mean I can—you’ll let me—?”

Kelly said, “Why don’t we discuss it at dinner tonight?”

And Kelly had no idea that she had just set herself up as a target for assassination.