No Return: A Contemporary Phantom Tale (38 page)

“And I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I returned. “So you have to let me do this.”

Greenburg was looking at me with new respect. God knows what he had thought of me before. “The police will question you, Miss Daly, and they won’t be happy when they find out that they’ve been wasting their time on an apparently false kidnapping case. Still, if you stick to your story, there’s not much they can do but accept it.” He transferred his stare to Erik. “And since she’s not actually testifying in a court of law, no one can prosecute her for perjury. She should be fine as long as she keeps her story straight.”

A long silence then, as Erik studiously looked away from us and appeared to stare at a portrait of a handsome middle-aged man that hung between the two windows on the opposite wall. The man in the portrait looked vaguely familiar, and I suddenly realized he must be Erik’s father. To look at his face was to realize exactly how much damage had really been done to his son’s own visage....

“And you would do this for me?” he asked at last. “Lie? Hurt your friends?”

His words made me begin to understand what my falsehoods would mean to Meg and, more importantly, to Randall. He would think that I had callously left him for another man, not caring what sort of pain and worry I might be causing him. It would be a betrayal of the worst sort, and he would never be able to know that it had all been a lie. I could feel a sudden constriction in my throat, the painful sting of tears behind my lashes. Still, I knew what I must do.

“I would do it for us,” I said gently.
 

Greenburg cleared his throat. I could tell he was made uncomfortable by the raw emotion in the room, but he was too much the professional to do anything but say, “Then we’re in agreement?”

“Yes,” I said immediately, and after a moment Erik nodded.

“If it’s the only way,” he said.

“I assure you, it is.” Greenburg slid his legal pad back into his briefcase and tucked his pen into his breast pocket. For the first time I noticed the gold wedding ring on his left hand. “And I would prefer to do it as soon as possible. I know the police are investigating this case aggressively, and it’s better to call a halt to the whole thing before they get any closer to the truth.”

“Today?” I asked in a small voice. I had known this was coming, but now it seemed far too sudden.

“Today,” he repeated. “Take a bit of time to compose yourself. Wait until after lunch, if that will help. But don’t wait any longer than that. Here’s my card.” He reached into his other breast pocket and pulled out a business card. “If you start to feel as if you’re in over your head, or the questioning is going in a bad direction, just tell them you need to take a break and give me a call.”

I took the little piece of ivory card stock and felt a little relieved. At least I wasn’t going into this completely without backup.

At that point Erik stood and came over to me, laying a reassuring hand on my shoulder and gently stroking my hair with the other. His touch calmed me even as I thrilled to it. This was what I was fighting for, after all—the chance to spend my life with him, to bring our love out of the shadows and into the light.
 

 
I reached up to touch the hand that lay on my shoulder. “With both of you in my corner, how can I do anything but succeed?” I asked, and was gratified to see Greenburg smile and feel Erik’s hand tighten on mine.
 

At that moment, I truly did feel invincible.

Erik watched as Greenburg’s BMW disappeared down the driveway, heading through the gates that had already been opened for it. While he knew intellectually that it had to be Christine who went to the police and closed the case once and for all, that knowledge didn’t make this any easier. Even now his stomach felt knotted with worry, his heart already beating heavily with pent-up anxiety.

He turned away from the door and shut it. Christine stood in the foyer, elegant in the royal blue cashmere twin set and black pencil skirt he had bought her, the sapphires once again winking at her throat. She had dressed up for the meeting with Greenburg, abandoning her usual slacks or jeans.

“It’s almost noon,” she said, and her tone was studiously casual. “I should bring Ennis a tray, and we both need to eat something as well.”

“Christine, I—” Somehow the words failed him, and he paused, trying desperately to think of something comforting, something to take away the suspicious brightness in her eyes.

“It’s all right, Erik,” she said. “I can do this. But I need to eat first. I can’t take tests on an empty stomach, either.”

Somehow that little commonplace brought a smile to his lips, and he replied, “Well, I’m sure we can find something. It’s Michel’s day off, but—”

“Don’t worry,” she said, and a little of the tension seemed to leave her mouth. “I’ve had to fend for myself for quite some time.”

That much was true. And although she was still not familiar with the huge kitchen pantries or the oversize commercial stove, somehow she managed to make up some consommé and toast for Ennis and a pair of cheese omelets for the both of them. As he watched her breeze through these tasks, he was once again struck by the fierceness of his desire for her—not just for her body, but for her continued presence in his life. She seemed so at home here now; he couldn’t imagine the house without her.

She sent him off with Ennis’s tray and an admonishment to be quick or their omelets would get cold. Luckily Ennis was caught up in a broadcast of
BBC World News
and merely murmured his thanks before turning his attention to the television once more, so Erik was able to hurry back to the kitchen after only a few moments.

They took their trays to the little breakfast room off the kitchen, where the lovely view out the windows was dampened a bit by the arrival of yet another storm. But there was something cozy and companionable about sitting in the cheery little room together and eating Christine’s quite excellent omelets as the rain pattered down the windows.

“Some time I’ll have to return the favor,” he said, gesturing toward the omelet with his fork. “I make quite a good Dagwood sandwich.”
 

Christine raised an eyebrow. “What’s in one of those, anyway?”

“Just about everything you can find in the cold-cut compartment in your refrigerator. I believe it was invented by someone who went on a midnight refrigerator raid.”

“Is that when you make yours?”

“Of course. Dagwoods make excellent midnight snacks.”

“‘Snacks’?” She shook her head, the curls bouncing over her shoulders. “Too many snacks like that and I won’t be able to fit into this skirt.”

He had a difficult time imagining her any other way than she was now: slim, beautiful, perfect. Still, he’d heard that women tended to obsess over their weight even when there was really nothing to obsess over. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” he said, pleased by the smile his words brought to her lips.

Then her expression sobered. He knew she must be thinking of her coming appointment with the police. There was no use telling her not to worry, because he was just as worried himself. All he could do was give her a reassuring smile, reach out to touch her hand, let her know how much he loved her.

Something seemed to get through to her, for she took a deep breath and appeared to relax a little. Then she said, “And afterward—”

“Afterward?” he asked.

She made a vague gesture with one hand. “After I’m done with the police. After I come back here to be with you permanently. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to finish school.”

“School?” he repeated. That surprised him a little, but he knew she had worked hard and was not one to leave things undone.

“I’m so close to graduation, and I’m hoping my professors will let me make up the finals I’ve missed so I can go straight on to spring semester. If not, I’ll have to make up those classes, but I’d still be able to graduate a year from now.” She spoke quickly, her gaze turned inward.
 

He realized she was bringing this up now so she wouldn’t have to think about the police or what she would have to say to them. “Will it be difficult for you?”

She gave a shaky little laugh. “Oh, probably. People always talk, you know. But then something else comes along and you’re last week’s news. At least I’d have my degree.” A quick look upward through her thick lashes. “And I’d want to sing.”

“We sing together all the time,” he replied, knowing even as he said the words that that was not what she had meant.

“I need to try, Erik,” she said. “I have to know if I’m any good.”

“You know you are,” he replied mechanically. What was she saying—that after all their struggles she would leave him to pursue her career?

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, the desperation obvious in her voice. “I’d try for parts locally, of course. But I would always feel as if I had wasted my training if I didn’t at least try.”

He shouldn’t be angry with her. She was facing one of the biggest confrontations of her young life, and he knew she was only trying to be honest with him, to let him know what her expectations were. But he still couldn’t help but feel somehow betrayed, as if she had led him to believe that he was enough for her, and only now was telling him that he couldn’t provide everything for her after all.

“Of course you must do what you feel is necessary,” he said coldly, and laid down his fork on the plate.

“God, Erik, don’t be like that.” She clasped his hand in both of hers, forcing him to look at her directly. “I love you. I want to be with you. All I’m asking is a chance to be myself as well.”

Her words shamed him. Was it fair for him to expect that she should hide her enormous talents from the world? How he could he even ask that of her? This girl…this woman—for in many ways she had shown far more maturity than he, even though two decades separated them—had given him nothing but love and healing. It was time for him to begin to give something back to her.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be anything less, my dear,” he said at last, and brought her hands to his lips.
 

She smiled at him then, the light of her happiness evident in shining eyes. He pulled her to him, holding her close, sending her his love, his reassurance. Let the world see her beauty, her astounding gifts. She would take their adulation, smile graciously, and return to him.

He had to be content with that.
     

Chapter 28

Erik walked me from the house to the garage, protecting the two of us from the rain with an enormous black umbrella borrowed from Ennis. It seemed a little inconvenient to have the buildings separated by a good hundred yards or so, but I supposed it would have ruined the symmetry of the landscape to have the garage placed any closer to the house than it already was. I wished I had taken the time to change out of my black pumps and skirt into something a little more practical, but at the same time I knew I had to get this over with before I lost my nerve and retreated into the reassuring isolation of Erik’s mansion.

Inside the garage it was chilly and faintly damp-smelling. But the place was spotless, the empty bays stretching on past the ones that held Erik’s S600 and a spectacular vintage Rolls.

He paused next to the Mercedes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black device that looked like a miniature remote control.

“I have to drive that?” I asked, gesturing toward the S-Class. Up close, it was ominously shiny and sleek, exuding power even when still.

“Unless you’d rather take the Rolls—”

His tone was serious, but I could see that wicked gleam in his eyes again.

I took the little black remote from him. “Where are the keys?”

“That is the key.”

“You’re kidding.” I looked at it a little more closely, noticing little locked and unlocked padlock icons on the buttons. “How does it work?”

“Push the unlock button.”

I did as he instructed and the door unlocked as the car made a little chirping sound and the lights flashed once. “Impressive.”

“You’re easily impressed.”

“Well, remember what I used to drive?”

He smiled at that and then pulled the door open for me. What followed was a little five-minute lesson on how to adjust the seats, use the windshield wipers, and work the climate-control system. I just hoped I’d be able to remember half of it.

It was a good excuse for us to evade discussing the real reason I had to drive the car at all, but eventually there was nothing left to show me, and he paused, looking down at me as I sat in the driver’s seat.

When he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “You’re sure you want to do this.”

“I have to, Erik. You know I do.” I reached out and touched his hand briefly, then said, “I don’t want us to spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders.”

He kept staring down at me, as if wanting to memorize my features, as if he thought he might never see me again. I couldn’t imagine what must be going through his mind. “Wise Christine,” he said. “Of course you are right.” Then he leaned down and kissed me very gently on the forehead. “Be safe in the rain.”

“I will,” I replied, and let him shut the car door. I docked the key in the ignition and felt the engine rumble to life beneath me. It was frightening, having that much power at my command. Thank God it wasn’t a stick—of course I had driven one most of my adult life, but adjusting to an unfamiliar gearbox was the last thing I needed right then.
 

I touched the button on the overhead console to open the garage door and eased my way down the drive, watching through the rearview mirror as Erik slowly lifted a hand to wave goodbye. In answer I raised my own hand briefly, then focused my attention on the road and the car around me, which felt as if it were pushing against my timid handling, yearning for someone who really knew how to drive it.

Before we had left the house, Erik had explained to me how to leave his secluded street and head into Old Pasadena. Once I was back on Colorado Boulevard and heading east I was into my own home territory, only a few blocks from
L’Opéra
and all my other familiar haunts. Since I didn’t want to park the car near the police station and possibly have it be recognized, I pulled into the parking garage at the Paseo Colorado shopping center. It was still early enough on a Friday afternoon that it wasn’t overly crowded, although I knew it would start to fill up in a few hours as people got off work and came looking for food and entertainment.