‘Can I go home now?’ Sylvie begged. ‘I don’t want to stay here. I want to be with you. I want us to be together. Please?‘ Her eyes glittered with tears. She had hoped having sex might get him to change his mind about their living apart. But she could see it hadn’t.
Connor sucked in a deep breath. He had to steel himself and do what had to be done. But it was harder than he imagined it would be. He hated hurting her. ‘I’m sorry Sylvie. I can’t let you go back with me.’ His words were firm and unyielding. ‘Your life is here now. It’s for the best!’
Sylvie shook her head, eyes pleading with him. ‘Best for whom? Certainly not for me! I love you!’
Connor turned away, staring at the wall. He couldn’t bear to look at her. She was so forlorn, as though her world was shattering to pieces and she didn’t know where to turn. It was cruel to dash her hopes like this, but he had no other choice. He had no idea what her dreams and expectations had been regarding their relationship, but he suspected they included hearts and flowers and wedding bells. He’d told her from the very beginning that he wasn’t the marrying kind. That it wasn’t in the cards. But she couldn’t seem to get that through her head. A hopeless romantic, Sylvie wanted commitment, marriage, and all that entailed. Connor, on the other hand, was only looking for a momentary diversion; someone warm and willing to share his bed. ‘We can’t be together!’ He told her firmly. He wouldn’t change his mind on this. ‘There’s too much going on right now.’
‘Are you talking about the murder investigation? Is that what this is about?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Are you worried they’ll arrest you?’ Her face showed fear and concern. ‘They would never do that. You’re innocent!’
‘I don’t want you involved in this!’ he insisted, turning back to her. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed and hard. He was adamant on this point. ‘My life is in utter chaos. I’ve stepped into a swirling shitstorm. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Not one damn thing! I have enough to worry about right now! Finishing the trilogy. Dealing with the cops and their fucking investigation. Their probing questions, innuendos, and suspicions. The fact that people are digging into every aspect, every corner of my life; rooting around in my past, trying to find something, anything they can pin on me. And don’t forget the whacked-out psycho who’s stalking and killing people I know. I have enough on my plate! I can’t deal with you too!’
‘But I am involved. I love you. I know you didn’t do this. I want to help you prove it!’
‘You can’t help! You’ll just complicate things. This is my problem Sylvie. Not yours! I have to handle it my way. Do what I think best. You really want to help? Make things easier for me? Then do as you’re told! Stay here! Do your job! Follow the rules! And try to stay out of trouble! The last thing I need is to get a call from your security detail, like I did last night, telling me they don’t know where the hell you are!’
She looked at him quizzically. Had she heard him right? ‘My security detail?’ she asked, taken aback at the news. ‘I have a security detail? Why?’ There was a large security contingent in the building. At least eight of them were wandering around at any given time, maybe more. Some congregated around the consoles in the lobby, eyes fixed on the monitors, keeping watch, always on the lookout for vagrants, interlopers, and other suspicious characters. The rest stood guard over the elevators or patrolled the halls, parking garage, or the nooks and crannies, entrances and exits of the luxury abode, determined to keep the rabble out. They were all big men; your usual somber, unsmiling, macho, no-nonsense types. Easily recognizable by their too-thick necks, bulging biceps, and uniforms: gray slacks, navy blazers, white shirts, and stripped blue, red, and gray ties. They were an annoying pain in the ass! She knew that Connor had sicced them on her, to keep an eye on her comings and goings. Sylvie thought of them as burly babysitters. She’d assumed they were there to protect all the residents of the building…not just bug her. She’d had encounters with almost all of them at one time or another. Did that mean they were all looking out for her? And exactly what were they guarding her from? Her eyes suddenly widened in realization. ‘Am I in danger? Is that why you sent me here? You think the killer, the man who murdered your parents and those poor women, is after me now?’
Connor just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Sylvie was there when the cops first interrogated him about the murders. But he’d refused to discuss the investigation or even speak to her afterwards, choosing instead to send her away. He hadn’t spoken to her since. From the start, it was obvious to both him and the detectives that Connor’s relationship with Sylvie put her at risk. The cops and his own security people urged him to move her to a safer, more secure location. After reviewing all the possible options, they’d settled on the New York City penthouse. The security here was state-of-the-art; no one could get to her as long as she stayed in the building. ‘I sent you here because I wanted to insure your safety.’
‘But I was safe…with you!’
‘The last place you want to be right now is with me,’ Connor insisted. ‘Not until this ghastly situation is resolved.’
‘Are you in danger?’ she asked in alarm. ‘Do you think after all these years of killing people close to you; he might shift his attention to you?’
‘The man’s deranged! Certifiable! There’s no way in hell anyone can predict what he’ll do next. For all I know he may just disappear, crawl back into the sewer he crawled out of, never to be seen or heard from again. The only thing I’m certain of right now is that I don’t want any more people to die. Me included! I’ve beefed up security at the house: doubled the security staff, installed more surveillance cameras and monitoring equipment, and put in a new, sophisticated, fiber optic perimeter fence alarm system. Trouble is the offices we’ve been using aren’t nearly big enough. There’s so much equipment crammed in there, it’s hard to maneuver around the desks. The staff is packed in like a bunch of sardines. We’ve got 18 people now; but they’ve got a couple of hundred acres to cover, not to mention bodyguarding me 24/7. If you were there too, part of those resources would have to be focused on you and neither of us would really be safe. We can’t be together anymore Sylvie. You can see that can’t you? We need to live apart.’
‘But it isn’t fair!’ she protested. Why were they allowing a psychopath, sociopath, or whatever the hell that murderous maniac was, to control their lives?
‘It’s the way things have to be! We don’t have a choice right now,’ he declared.
Right now? She seized on the words. Did that mean they could be together again sometime in the future? ‘So this is just temporary? I’ll be able to go home when they catch him?’ She searched his eyes, hoping for reassurance, but didn’t find any. Her face clouded over. That’s if they catch him! If the cops were to be believed, the first murder or rather murders, the fire that killed his parents, occurred 14 years ago. The perpetrator had managed to evade capture since then, while continuing to kill and ratchet up the body count. What made her think they’d get him now?
‘I don’t know what’s going to happen, Sylvie. I wish I did. The situation is completely out of my control!’ Connor admitted angrily. He’d spent his entire life being the man in charge, controlling everything and everyone around him. He dominated others. Made them bend to his will. But no longer! He’d been rendered powerless by the killer. Manipulated and maneuvered like a pawn on a chess board. Connor wasn’t setting the agenda now. He was merely reacting to it. Someone else was pulling the strings: a dark, sinister puppeteer.
Sylvie laid her head on his chest, trying to draw comfort from the sound of his beating heart.
‘I don’t know when they’ll catch him Sylvie. He’s a clever, cunning son of a bitch. He’s been stalking and killing people for years, yet no one even had an inkling that he existed; let alone connected the dots. I can’t help thinking that I could have done something to stop this!’
She lifted her head to look at him. ‘You’re not responsible for any of this Connor. There’s nothing you could have done!’ she assured him.
‘I could have hired people to take over the investigations into Marisol and Tara’s deaths. That’s what I could have done,’ he said, unable to hide the bitterness he felt at his own stupidity. ‘I’ve given a lot of money to political campaigns over the years, especially here in the city. I’m well-acquainted with the past and present mayors, most of the City Council members, and the last two police commissioners. I could have brought significant pressure to bear. But I didn’t. Instead I retreated to the mountains. There were cursory investigations and then nothing. Their cases slipped through the cracks. They told me Marisol had probably been attacked by an addict high on methamphetamines. That it was consistent with the level of violence in the assault. I’d always thought it was a home invasion or a robbery gone wrong, I had no idea what that sick bastard did to her until the cops told me a couple of weeks ago. That she’d been repeatedly raped and tortured for hours,’ his voice cracked with emotion. ‘The detectives who investigated the case said the killer left behind no evidence they could follow up on. That the case would likely never be solved. And as for Tara, I was told that it was a hit and run, probably by a drunk driver. The cops dropped the ball on both cases and I allowed it. I never followed up with them, never pressed for answers. I was so torn up by Marisol’s murder, I couldn’t function. When Tara died things got worse. My life spiraled out of control. I felt cursed. Most days I was so depressed I couldn’t even haul my ass out of bed. I went days without eating, without showering. I couldn’t write. Hell, I couldn’t even think straight anymore. Then one day I took a look in the mirror. What I saw there scared the shit out of me. I decided then that I wanted to get on with my life. But in order to do that I had to drive all thoughts of Marisol and Tara out of my head. If I wanted to save myself, I had to forget them. Forget I’d ever known them! I was a coward. Maybe if I’d manned up and faced things then, done something; maybe Callie, Ariel, and that reporter would be alive now.’
‘You can’t blame yourself. There was no way for anyone to put this together until Ariel and Callista’s bodies were found. The killer didn’t leave the police any clues. There was no forensic evidence tying him to the crimes. The man is diabolically clever. He’s methodical. If it hadn’t been for Ernestine Shaw, making the connection between you, Ariel, and Callie; and then your parent’s death by arson and the other murders, no one would have been the wiser. It’s just unfortunate that Ernestine died trying to get the story. But now that the cops know what he did, they can surely figure out who he is. Ernestine didn’t know the man she was meeting that night was the killer; but her murder may prove to be his undoing. He didn’t have time to plan it out. It was done on the spur of the moment to silence her. Somewhere…maybe in her written notes, on her computer, or on her phone, is a clue that will lead to him. If she was able to figure out the link between you, the murders, and the killer…then the cops will too! It’s just a matter of time!’
‘I hope so. I’ve hired some of the best private detectives in the country, the world for that matter, to work on the case. But as of yet they haven’t come up with any solid leads. The bastard knows how to cover his tracks; but even the wiliest animal can be run to ground…eventually. I have to believe that now that they know he’s out there, they’ll be able to figure out who he is, track him down, and stop him. Until they identify and capture him though, we can’t see each other! It’s too risky, too dangerous. I’ve lost six people I cared about. I won’t lose you too!’
‘I’m not afraid of him, Connor. I’m not going to put my life on hold because of some unhinged nut job! I want to be with you!’
‘Well, you should be!’ he bristled. Sylvie had an affliction that a lot of other females her size: diminutive, petite, little women, otherwise known as shrimps, peanuts, and spinners, seemed to have. They refused to think of themselves as small and weak and instead displayed a type of badass bravado that could easily get them hurt! They deluded themselves into thinking they were six foot five, 300-pounders; instead of five foot nothing and weighing maybe 100 pounds if they were soaking wet. They were utterly fearless, brash and ballsy, courageous and cocky, even in the face of danger. Sylvie could do with a reality check! ‘As long as we are in a relationship, you could be a target, be in the bastard’s crosshairs!’ His muscles tensed as he continued. He didn’t want to hurt her; but he had to get her out of his life, at least his personal life. He needed to disengage, keep her at arm’s length for her own good. ‘Look, we had a lot of fun together. The sex was great. We had a good run. But let’s not try to make it out to be more than it was. It wasn’t a love affair. Or even a romance. It was just sex! Plain and simple! I don’t want you getting hurt because some crazy asshole thinks I’m in love with you…because I’m not. I’ve never been in love with anyone. Never wanted to be! I’m not capable of that kind of emotion, those kinds of feelings!’
She pushed herself up off his chest and glared at him, clearly incensed. ‘Perish the thought. Love? No Way! We were just shacking up, nothing more, nothing less!’
She turned away from him, her hair forming a veil, concealing her delicate features. It also hid eyes damp with tears. He brushed the silky waves back in place, but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. They were filled with a mixture of rage, hurt, and frustration; but to his astonishment, there was love there too. He felt like a complete heel. Loving him had brought Sylvie nothing but misery. He’d taken advantage of her naiveté; allowing her to fall in love with him. While only feeling lust in return. Sylvie didn’t really understand the difference between the two. She thought the fact that they were having sex meant they loved each other. It didn’t! ‘I’m sorry you thought it was something more.’
‘Don’t worry Connor. I got your message loud and clear! I was just a handy, available piece of ass for you. Got it! Thanks for sharing! Now, because of circumstances that are not of my making and beyond my control, I am persona non grata and should keep my distance. Is that about it?’
‘Stop it. You’re making it sound cheap!’ he protested.
‘I’m making it sound cheap?’ she asked incredulously. Sylvie shook her head and fisted her hands. She was fighting an overwhelming urge to sock him and knock him on his ass. ‘It is what it is Connor! I was just a roll in the hay to you. A convenient place to stick your dick! I get that now. Excuse me for being slow on the uptake, but I really wish you’d’ve told me all this before you fucked me ten minutes ago! What exactly was that…a fuck for old times’ sake?’
Connor couldn’t answer and instead averted his eyes. Seeing Sylvie again, touching her, tasting her, was like pouring salt on a festering wound. It was sheer agony. Meeting her was the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him. She was an unneeded complication in his life, he told himself. A constant distraction, a continuing annoyance, an unbearable, unscratchable itch that drove him crazy. He knew she deserved better than him: a man who would love, marry, and cherish her for the rest of her life. A husband who worshiped and adored her. He wanted Sylvie to be happy, but the thought of her in another man’s arms was devastating. He knew he should let her get on with her life. That was the right, the honorable thing to do. But he needed her! Sylvie banished the darkness that surrounded him. Lifted his spirits. Calmed his mind. Comforted his soul. She made life worth living. He was a better person with her. Connor lifted his eyes to meet hers. ‘I’ve missed you Sylvie. More than you could ever know. I miss your laugh, your smile. I miss being inside you, feeling your heat, your passion. I miss having you fall asleep in my arms. I miss the way you look in the morning: like an unmade bed with a wild tangle of hair and a surly attitude.’
His words unsettled her. More so the look in his eyes. Here she was prepared to hate him and then he goes and tells her how much he misses her. The man was an enigma. Connor might be right about his not loving her, but he clearly felt something for her! It might not be obvious to him, but it was to her! He’d told her their relationship meant nothing to him. But his eyes didn’t lie and they were telling her a whole other story. Connor felt some kind of affection for her. But what exactly? He cared about her. He’d told her as much. But define care? He didn’t want any harm to come to her? He was concerned for her welfare? That was nice, but it wasn’t really an indication of deep affection. Not the kind she wanted! How about fond? Was he fond of her? He clucked and worried about her like an old mother hen: was she eating right, exercising, getting enough sleep? That meant he was fond of her, didn’t it? Then again, maybe not! The only thing it proved was that he was a frigging control freak! Well then, did he like her? She couldn’t help noticing that his dick stood at attention every time she was around him… yeah, it was safe to say he liked her. But he liked hunting and fishing, hiking and camping too…what did that prove? Besides, from what he’d told her, his dick had a mind of its own. It was neither connected to nor controlled by his brain. It did what it wanted, when it wanted…consequences be damned!
She frowned. What came next on the affection scale? Feelings for? That was a tricky one. I wasn’t love exactly, but it was better than like. She suspected that Connor didn’t really know how he felt about her. At this point, she wasn’t about to leave the party till she knew where she stood with him. Sylvie wasn’t a quitter! If there was a chance of salvaging the relationship, she wanted to try. But he’d hurt her. He made Sylvie feel dirty; treating her like some trashy slut he’d fucked and discarded like so much garbage. He’d made the relationship they’d shared seem lewd and tawdry. His words and actions had wounded her, cut her to the quick. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it. She intended to let him have it with both barrels!
‘So where does that leave us Connor? You miss me. But you don’t want to be with me anymore! You order me out of your house. Yet you still want to control me! You expect me to follow your rules, be obedient and respectful, when you don’t even have the common decency to return my phone calls, respond to my texts, or answer my e-mails! Guess again pal! Tell me, if you’re so bound and determined not to see me anymore, why did you come rushing down here last night? You wanted me out of your life? Well I’m out! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ His eyes were shooting daggers at her. ‘And don’t you dare tell me to watch my language! I’ll say whatever the hell I want from now on. I’m not your concern any more. You want me to continue in your employ? Fine! But on my terms! Call off your dogs Connor, your toadies, flunkies, and lackeys. They’re getting on my nerves. I don’t want to be lectured or spied on any more. Got that? You wanted me here. Fine. I’m here whether I like it or not. And trust me Connor, I don’t like it one damn bit! You got what you wanted. But you better lighten up! I neither need nor want your interference in my life! And I sure as hell don’t intend to follow your stupid rules anymore. You can wipe your ass with them for all I care! I’m just your employee. So treat me like an employee and stop trying to run my life!’
‘You’re more than an employee to me. I truly care about you! Don’t you know that?‘ he blurted out in exasperation.
Truly care? When she considered how emotionally constipated he was, how non-committal he’d been about his feelings, how conflicted, that was a pretty big admission on his part. The only emotions Connor seemed comfortable with were negative ones: pride, anger, and conceit. Sometimes she was of the opinion that his better angels had flown the coop long ago. But still, it was a start. Truly care? She liked the sound of that!
‘All I’m trying to do is keep you safe,’ he insisted, obviously upset. ‘Can’t you see that? I’m trying to do what’s best for you! What’s best for us! I don’t want us to be apart any more than you do. I like being with you. I like seeing you first thing in the morning and last thing at night. But I can’t take the risk,’ he paused, overwhelmed with emotion. ‘I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you!’
Whatever anger she’d felt before quickly abated. She didn’t want to read too much into it; but if it was someone other than Connor Hudson saying all this to her right now, she’d have thought the man was trying to tell her he loved her. She nodded that she understood, her eyes transfixed on his.
‘You need to trust me on this Sylvie. It’s best if we don’t see each other for a while. As far as anyone knows we’ve split up. Drake called me while you were asleep to tell me he saw you last night. He asked what you’re doing in New York. I said we weren’t together anymore. That we hadn’t been getting along and you decided to move back to the city. He saw the guards help you into the building and asked if you were staying in the penthouse. He’s a nosey SOB. A real busybody. Always has been. I knew if I told him no, he’d pay you a visit to see for himself. I explained that you’re still working for me, only out of the office here. He kept badgering me with questions, so I lied and said we’d signed a contract for you to edit all three books of the trilogy; and that under the terms of the agreement, I had to provide not only your salary, but living accommodations and meals as well. Similar to the arrangement we had at the other house. I told him that since I rarely use the penthouse, but have to staff it anyway; and since it has a fully equipped office, I decided to have you stay here until the last book is finished instead of spending the money to set you up someplace else. I get the feeling you’re going to be hearing from him. He razzed me about having your number.’
‘Drake? You’re kidding right? Why would he have my number?’
‘Evidently, you gave it out to everyone last night!’ he chided, looking at her askance.
‘Whoops,’ she said, wincing. She was pretty drunk last night, make that really drunk. She’d have to be to give Drake her number. He was a first-class jerk!
‘He was asking all kinds of questions about you. Personal questions. I don’t know if he was doing it to needle me or if he’s really interested in you. For all I know he may think you’ll want to start hanging out with him and the guys now like Seanna, Deidre…’
Yeah, that’ll happen…when bats fly out of my ass! ‘I don’t think so!’ she cut him off, looking insulted and extremely pissed. ‘I might want to join the ranks of the women you and your friends treat like hookers…like common whores? Seriously? The ones you guys grope and paw in public? Then screw at parties, boasting and bragging about it to everyone within earshot? Before passing them on to your buddies, so they can get their rocks off too? You guys are sick! A bunch of degenerates! Does the term morally bankrupt mean anything to you people? Cause it sure as hell describes you! I can’t say that I’m a fan of any of those ladies. I find them all shallow, vain, and stupid; but no one deserves to be treated like that. It’s despicable!’
‘Jesus Sylvie, get off your high horse! I’m just giving you a heads-up. He’s my best friend; but when it comes to women, he can be a snake. I don’t want him sniffing around you! But if I tell him to steer clear he’ll become suspicious and want to know why.’ Connor swallowed hard, appearing uneasy and somewhat embarrassed. ‘We guys have a sort of quasi-agreement that once we stop dating a girl, the others can try their hand and take a run at her.’
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disgust. ‘And then what…you compare notes? So you’re telling me your friends think I’m fair game now? Is that what happened to Deidre, Caris, Bethany, and Seanna? They started out dating one of you and wound up sleeping with all of you?’
‘Pretty much,’ he mumbled, looking sheepish. ‘No one forced them into anything. They went willingly. They all have successful careers, but they’re not really rich. Certainly not as rich as they’d like to be. That’s where we come in. They’re party girls at heart. They like having a good time. Like to be where the money is. They love all the accoutrements of wealth that men like us can provide: the yachts, the palatial villas and estates, the mansions, the penthouses, the summer homes and beach houses. As far as they’re concerned, they caught the brass ring. They get to go on expensive vacations, ride in fancy sports cars and limousines, go to lavish parties, are provided with designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry, and are wined and dined at the fanciest restaurants and most exclusive clubs…all the things that money, power, and influence can buy. You’re acting as though they were coerced. Trust me, they weren’t. They’re not babes in the woods. They’re adults, grown women. They know the score. It’s a quid pro quo arrangement. The women enjoy a lifestyle they could previously only aspire to and the men get to be surrounded by a coterie of beautiful women who aren’t shy about showing their gratitude.’
‘You really need to get yourself a better class of friends!’ she sneered.
‘I don’t want to argue the point! All I’m saying is if he should call you, which he just might do to stick it to me, steer clear of him! Don’t let him sweet-talk you into letting him come over or taking you out to lunch. Trust me on this! I don’t want you anywhere near him.’
‘I wasn’t planning on it!’ she assured him. She made it a point to not hang out with rich boy assholes unless their name was Connor! But she wasn’t about to tell him that! Sylvie was confused. She was sure she’d heard him say they couldn’t see each other ‘anymore’ at the beginning of their conversation. But swore he later modified that to ‘for a while.’ Maybe the situation wasn’t as bleak as she first thought.
‘And if Drake does call,’ he went on, ‘don’t tell him I was here! Don’t tell anybody I’ve been here! This visit is not to be discussed at any editorial meetings you attend. Or talked about with the managers and company executives you interact with on the phone. The fewer people who know, the better! And for God’s sake, don’t discuss the murders and the police investigation with him or anyone else! Even your family! I mean it! The last thing we want to do is alert the killer, let him know we’re onto him.’
‘You think it’s one of your friends?’ she gasped, ‘or someone who works for you?’ She’d envisioned the murderer as a maniacal Quasimodo, a homicidal Freddy Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street, or Roark Jr., the yellow bastard character from the movie Sin City, or a deformed Phantom of the Opera, or even Count Orlok, the vampire from the silent film Nosferatu. She expected him to be hideous and repulsive looking, a malevolent beast, whose exterior reflected the cruelty, evil, and depravity within him. She didn’t think he’d look normal!
‘No of course not!’ he reassured her. ‘I don’t suspect anyone right now. But as they used to say in World War II: ‘loose lips sink ships.’ You tell someone, who tells someone else, who in turn tells others, and it keeps going until everyone knows. Whoever he is, he knows the intricate details of my life so he has to know people I know. That’s how he’s keeping tabs on me. A competitor perhaps? Someone in the publishing industry or on the fringes of it? Someone who had a grudge against my father or my family? I was just a kid, only 17, when he killed my parents. I can’t believe I’m the reason they died. It must have had something to do with the business or some bad blood with my father. But when the killer resurfaced eight years later, he’d switched the focus of his rage to me. What was he doing during that time? I’ve got people sifting through the old company records hoping to turn up something. But so far they’ve found nothing. My father was a good man, a principled man. To my knowledge, the only person who ever thought he’d been swindled by him was Abe Frommer. Abe is a conniving bastard; but bad as he is, he’s not a killer!’
‘Have you talked to your Aunt Lettie about this yet?’ Sylvie asked, a frightening scenario playing out in her head.
‘No. Why would I?’ He seemed surprised by the question.
‘Connor, isn’t she your Dad’s sister? You said this lunatic may have a grudge against the family? Couldn’t that include her?’
He looked aghast.
‘She was devastated by your father’s death wasn’t she?’
He nodded, the true meaning of her words only now sinking in.
‘And if her only living relative was framed for a number of murders he didn’t commit, wouldn’t that devastate her as well?’
He nodded again, appearing uneasy.
‘Connor, I think you really need to tell her what’s going on.’
‘You can’t believe she’s the cause of this?’ he scoffed.
‘I didn’t say that, but maybe she knows something you don’t know. Maybe she knows something about your parents’ background you weren’t privy to? You won’t know anything till you talk to her.’ Sylvie paused. Connor looked distraught. She didn’t want to worry him needlessly, but he had to realize that his aunt might be in danger. ‘And even if she has nothing to do with any of this, she’s your only living relative. Have you considered the possibility that she might be targeted too?’
He blanched and shook his head. His hand reached up and grabbed his forehead, then raked through his hair. ‘It never even occurred to me that the killer would go after Lettie. She lives in Palm Beach. But she’s always on the move, flitting from place to place, yachting in the Caribbean, plying the Mediterranean, visiting friends in Europe and South America. The woman’s a gadabout. She rarely comes north except to see me. I just assumed…’
‘Where is she now?’ Sylvie wanted to know.
‘She and Warren are moored at a yacht club on Staniel Cay in the Bahamas. She called the other day to tell me she was having a fabulous time there. She was going on about swimming pigs and tame sharks. She’s in her glory. They’re heading on to Florida and then flying to Syracuse a week from Monday. She said Warren has something he wants to discuss with me. I think she’s planning to marry that old-fart Casanova.’
‘She’s coming now?’
‘Yes, she comes up every year for the foliage.’
‘Maybe that’s not such a good idea this year. I know you don’t want to hear it; but for the time being, she may be safer with ol’ Warren then she is with you.’
‘The killer’s hunting ground is the city, not the Adirondacks!’ he countered.
‘He can strike anywhere he wants to! Are you forgetting the fire at Tara’s apartment in Boston? If he can go to Boston, he can go to Saranac Lake! Your house is only 300 miles from the city, a mere five or six hours away. He’s crazy, Connor. Do you really think the distance or the drive would deter him?’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ he admitted. Connor was scared: not for himself, for Lettie. ‘I’ll call her when I get home and explain the situation.’ He looked as though he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Sylvie was ashamed of the way she’d lashed out at him. Weren’t things bad enough already without her ranting and raving and making things worse? Her anger was understandable; she’d been uprooted and exiled. She just wanted her life back the way it was. Connor ran the show when they were together. He’d given her life structure and purpose. She’d blossomed in his care and keeping. Yes, he was overbearing, dogmatic, and demanding; but the same things that drove her crazy about him made her feel safe and protected. She’d trusted him to make decisions and lead the way. Why didn’t she trust him now? She might not agree with the logic of evicting and relocating her here. Consigning her to what amounted to house arrest. But it hadn’t been done out of malice. It was just Connor taking charge, trying to do what he thought best for her. He was trying to protect her from a fiend. She’d blamed Connor for sending her away. But she was taking her anger out on the wrong person. None of this was Connor’s fault. She’d been behaving like a bitch. Whining and berating him. Cursing and nagging. Resorting to temper tantrums when things didn’t go her way. He didn’t deserve it, any of it. If she loved him, she had to have faith in him. Faith that he’d do right by her. She’d spent their time apart caught up in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She’d felt ill-treated and abandoned. Neglected and rejected. There’d been days when she was so despairing and despondent that she wished she were dead. And other times, when she was livid and seething with outrage, that she wished he were.
Sylvie kept thinking about her brother Matt. He’d done three tours of duty in Iraq and two in Afghanistan. The separations had definitely strained his marriage, but he and his wife Kelly had managed to overcome it and stay together. She didn’t know how her sister-in-law endured it. She’d only been away from Connor a few short weeks and she was already climbing the walls. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder…wasn’t it? Perhaps the problem wasn’t the miles that separated them, but the emotional distance. She was besotted with the man and told him so. But the feeling wasn’t mutual. Sylvie was like a lovesick teenager. She adored him. Worshiped the ground he walked on. Wanted nothing more than to please him. But Sylvie had no idea where she stood with him, because he never told her. She needed reassurance, but didn’t get it. She hadn’t talked to Connor in weeks because he wouldn’t take her phone calls. How could you nurture a relationship when you weren’t even speaking? Sylvie had no idea where their relationship was headed. Maybe off a cliff at this rate! Out of sight, out of mind! She hated that old adage. The very thought of it made her cringe! She’d seen Seanna flirting with Connor; rubbing, stroking, and teasing him, in an attempt to lure him into her bed, into her clutches. Sylvie had watched as Bethany, Caris, and Deidre did everything short of shaking their naked asses in Connor’s face to get his attention. She worried that in her absence a usurper would crawl into his bed and take her place. The line, she was sure, was forming to the left at this very moment! Billionaires didn’t come on the market every day, especially one as handsome as the sexy Mr. Hudson. Connor demanded fidelity from Sylvie and had sworn to be faithful to her as long as their relationship endured, as long as they were together. The question was, were they still together? Before she could ask him, she needed to mend some fences. She had to apologize for her hurtful comments and horrid attitude.
