A Woman with Secrets Page 17

  “Of all people, Kate, you should know what Karl is capable of.”

  “You were right, Tyler. I should have let you handle this.”

  “I’m not interested in being right,” he said, sympathy in his voice now. “I’d just like to see you permanently free of that slime bag.”

  “They teach you those words at Yale?” she asked, aware that this was as close as she’d ever heard Tyler get to being angry.

  “I could think of some better ones,” he said. “And how did Cole handle having his boat stolen?”

  “He didn’t take it very well.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I don’t care about the money, Tyler,” she said, running a hand through her hair and watching Louis dig in the sand around the terrace outside the room. “He can have it.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” Tyler said. “Give me all the information you have about who’s looking for the boat. I’d like to speak to the authorities about what should happen to that money if they find it.”

  “Knowing Karl, he’ll have buried it at sea,” she said. She told him then what little she knew, adding that she wasn’t sure when she would be back. She hung up, aware that she had made a complete wreck of things.

  Louis came back into the room and sat down on the bed beside her. “Don’t be sad, Kate,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She wished it could be that simple. That a mistake could be rectified with a plea for forgiveness. “But I did, Louis.”

  “That doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said, sounding much older than the boy she’d watched playing in the sand a few minutes before.

  She put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and resting her chin on the top of his head.

  “Mr. Dillon said once you’ve said you’re sorry, the mistake goes away. It’s what you do to make up for it that matters.”

  She closed her eyes and felt a single tear slide down her cheek. Louis was right. She would not look at what had happened today as an ending. But as a beginning. From here, she had somewhere to go.

  * * *

  MARGO’S FATHER CALLED her room at just after five to say he was having dinner with Lyle and Lily. The strange part was that he didn’t invite her to join them. Not sure what to make of it, she hung up the phone and wondered if she should go check on him. But someone knocked on the door just then, and she answered it to find Harry standing there with an ice bucket and two glasses in his hand.

  “Someone ordered champagne?”

  She shook her head and said, “You must have the wrong room, sir.”

  “Oh, but the kitchen said it would be the room with the good-looking brunette.”

  “It’s pitiful how susceptible I am to your flattery.”

  “Handy, too,” he said, stepping past her and setting the glasses on a nearby table. “Would you like to open it, or shall I?”

  “Oh, do go ahead,” she said.

  He loosened the wire and then aimed the cork at the ceiling. A single push, and it bounced off the slow-twirling fan, missing her left eye by a hair’s breadth on its way back to the floor. “I didn’t say I was an expert,” he said.

  “Obviously.”

  “So I’ll take you to dinner to make up for it.”

  “Aren’t you the gentleman who lost his wallet?”

  “I have impeccable credit.”

  “Taste, as well, I see,” she said, glancing at the French label.

  “I aim to impress.”

  He filled a glass and passed it to her, then poured one for himself. He raised it and said, “A toast?”

  She lifted hers and waited.

  “To nontraditional vacations. And the very interesting people you meet on them.”

  They clinked the rims of their glasses and took a sip. “Mmm,” she said. “And I didn’t think I liked champagne.”

  “There’s more where this came from.”

  “Am I sensing an ulterior motive here?”

  “I could take the more direct approach, if you’d prefer,” he said, one eyebrow wiggling in a theatrical gesture.

  “And where would this direct approach be heading?” she asked, her voice suggestive in a way that definitely wasn’t her.

  He studied her for a few moments, suddenly serious. “I guess that would depend on where you want to go.”

  She felt sure Harry had been places she’d never even thought to imagine. She had the sensation of having stepped in quicksand, only to realize it was too late to pull herself out. Her pulse began an insistent thump, and even though she knew there was nothing remotely intelligent in the decision, she wanted to go wherever he led her.

  He stepped forward, taking her glass and placing it next to his. He touched her face, smoothed the back of his hand across her hair. The look in his eyes said everything she’d never imagined a man like Harry saying to her.

  He found some music on the radio, then pulled her into his arms and waltzed her around the room. And it was as if all of it happened in slow motion. She wanted it to last as long as it possibly could.

  They danced a half dozen or so songs, coming to an easy stop alongside the bed. They were both flushed and smiling, and she thought how nice it was that they had fun together. Something she’d actually known very little of. Maybe that was what drew her to him. Made her wilt under the heat of his kiss. Or it could just be that he was exceptionally good at kissing.

  The bed was soft and welcoming beneath them. Their clothes ended up in a pile on the floor, and she couldn’t help taking a long look at this man she could not seem to resist.

  “I trust everything meets with your approval, ma’am,” he said in a teasing voice.

  “Oh, I think so,” she said, trying not to smile.

  “Just making sure.” He laughed and then kissed her again. “I’d sure hate to disappoint.”

  Somehow, she knew there was little chance of that. As it turned out, she was right. And eventually, they finished the champagne. But they never did make it to dinner.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The wounds of love can only be healed by the one who made them.

  —Publilius Syrus

  THE ADDRESS SAM had given Cole at the Atlanta airport just over an hour before was on the outskirts of a wealthy Buckhead Street. He parked the rental car in the driveway, got out and made himself walk to the door when what he wanted to do was run. He imagined Pamela spotting him from an upstairs window and escaping out a back door.

  He rang the doorbell, its deep-throated rumble echoing his pounding heart. In a few moments, the door opened, and Pamela stood before him, her expression completely neutral of surprise, as if she’d been expecting him. She’d cut her hair, and it was darker now. She appeared thinner, too, as if these past two years had not come without a price.

  “Hello, Cole,” she said. “Come in.”

  He stood for a moment, too surprised by her calm greeting to respond. He forced his feet to move and followed her into the foyer and across a hall to a large living room that looked out over a vast green yard. It was the kind of room that echoed when you walked, big enough to park a tractor trailer in, the kind of living room found in houses featured in Architectural Digest.

  Pamela stopped in front of a cavernous fireplace, motioning for him to sit.

  He ignored the invitation and got to the point, pushing back the anger hovering just beneath the surface of his control. “I want to see Ginny. Where is she?”

  “Upstairs,” she said.

  “Would you like to get her or should I?” he asked.

  “Can you wait a moment?” She asked the question with even-toned politeness.

  “I’ve waited two years,” he said, his tone abrupt.

  “I knew you’d find us eventually.”

  The anger blasted up then, coloring his response red. “So was this some kind of game to you?”

  “It was never a game,” she said.

  “What was it then?”

  She sighed, ran a ha
nd through her hair. “When I first left with Ginny, I was just plain pissed off at you, Cole.”

  “Did taking my daughter away from me satisfy your need for revenge?”

  She actually winced a little at the question. “I didn’t intend to keep her from you for long, but after I started to make a new life for myself, it just seemed easier to make a clean break.”

  Cole stared at her, not sure if he could even find the words to respond. “Easier for me? Easier for Ginny? Or just easier for you?”

  Pamela glanced away, something that might actually have been shame shadowing her eyes. “I think maybe I thought for all of us.”

  “Well, that’s where you were wrong.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and met his gaze head on. “Why didn’t you ever get the police involved?”

  “One reason, and one reason only. Believe it or not, I never wanted to destroy my daughter’s belief in her mother. What did you tell her, Pamela? Where does she think I’ve been the last two years?”

  Pamela looked down and then met his gaze again before saying, “I told her you didn’t have room in your life for us. Was that so very far off the mark?”

  In that moment, Cole thought he could understand how people found themselves doing things they would never have thought themselves capable of. He took a step back, counted to five. “Whatever you found me guilty of, and maybe it was all true, I never deserved what you did, Pamela. You stole two years of my daughter’s life from me. Two years neither of us can ever get back.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to bring Ginny downstairs and tell her the truth. If you don’t, I will call the police, and I will tell them how you kidnapped my daughter in violation of our visitation agreement.”

  “Cole—”

  “This isn’t negotiable,” he said, the words hard.

  “What if she hates me for it?” she asked tentatively.

  “You mean the way she’s probably hated me?”

  Pamela shook her head, started to say something, then pressed her lips together once before conceding. “I’ll be right back.”

  He waited, pacing and nervous. Would Ginny even want to see him? Could he blame her if she didn’t?

  A minute later, he heard footsteps on the stairs, picking up speed as they got closer.

  His daughter burst into the living room, her blond hair long now. She was taller, too, and he felt a knot of emotion in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow back.

  “Hi, Ginny, baby,” he said, his voice wavering.

  “Daddy,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Daddy, you came back.” And then, sobbing, she ran into his open arms.

  * * *

  THROUGH THE HOTEL, Kate arranged for a taxi to pick Louis and her up the next morning and drive them to the orphanage. The air was warm and humid, not a single cloud in the bright blue sky.

  Louis sat close to her side, his head on her shoulder. She knew he was sad, and she wasn’t sure how she would be able to make herself leave him there.

  The ride grew bumpier as they got closer, and Louis was somber when they finally pulled up in front of the worn old building. Kate asked the driver to wait, getting out of the car and walking with Louis across the yard to where Scott stood by the gate.

  Louis dropped his gaze, as if afraid he’d be in trouble for what he’d done, but Scott pulled him into his arms and gave him a warm hug and a pat on the back. “I’m glad you’re okay, son,” he said.

  Louis nodded, fighting back tears. Her own eyes stung, and she could barely speak around the lump in her throat. “He’s a wonderful boy,” she said, looking at Scott.

  Scott nodded. “Yes, he is. Thank you for bringing him back safe.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Louis turned out of Scott’s arms to face her. She dropped onto her knees in front of him and took his hands in hers. “I’d like to come back and see you, if that’s okay.”

  He studied her with his wide brown eyes for a few moments, as if unsure she really meant it. He nodded then and said, “I’d like that.”

  “It’s a deal.” She pulled him close and hugged him hard, not bothering to hide the tears now streaming down her face. She didn’t say any more because she didn’t know when she would be back. She just knew that she would. She gave him one last hug, then jumped up and ran back to the taxi.

  She looked back once as the old car pulled away in a groan of rattles and a cloud of exhaust. Louis waved. She lifted her hand just before he disappeared from sight.

  * * *

  SHE ARRIVED BACK at the hotel to find the Granger sisters out front waiting for a taxi to take them into town.

  “How are you, my dear?” they asked in unison at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

  “I just took Louis back to the orphanage.”

  They each put an arm around her, enfolding her in a sympathetic embrace, patting her back as devoted grandmothers would.

  “What a sweet boy he is,” Lyle said.

  “He really seemed taken with you,” Lily added.

  “Couldn’t you adopt him?” Lyle asked.

  Kate pulled back, wiping her face. “I don’t think I’m in a position to do something like that,” she said. “My life is kind of a wreck right now.”

  “Maybe he’d be just the thing to fix you up,” Lily said. “I have no doubt you’d be good for him.”

  Lyle took Kate’s hand and looked her in the eyes. “When you get as old as I am, there’s one thing you’ll know for sure. And that is this. The only things that end up being of any value at all are the things you never thought you could do, but did anyway. The rest of it really won’t matter.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It was amazing to her that after everything that had happened, they could still see her as someone deserving of something as wonderful as Louis.

  She hugged them again and told them she would be leaving later that afternoon. She’d spoken to Tyler early that morning and he’d had his secretary book a flight for her from Tango Island to the Dominican Republic and then on to Miami where she’d left her car.

  They promised to keep in touch, exchanging phone numbers and addresses. She stood and watched until they were out of sight, already feeling a pang of loss for the dear friends she’d made on this trip.

  “Kate!”

  She turned to find Margo waving from the main entrance of the hotel. They agreed to go for a drink on the veranda, both of them ordering a glass of iced tea.

  Kate only had to look at Margo to know things with Harry had progressed to a new level. “You’re glowing,” she said.

  Color highlighted Margo’s cheeks. “It’s that obvious?”

  “I’m happy for you,” she said. “I can’t deny that I’m a little envious, too.”

  “I don’t see how anything permanent can come of it,” she said, tracing a pattern through the condensation on her glass.

  “Would you like for it to?”

  “I haven’t let myself consider it.”

  “Why?”

  “My life is complicated. I care about my father—”

  “And he obviously cares about you. Surely, he wants to see you happy.”

  “Harry lives on a yacht in the Caribbean. I live in Massachusetts. How could that ever work?”

  “If something is real, it will find a way.”

  “I guess that’s the part I’m not sure about.” She was quiet for a moment, before saying, “What about you, Kate? You and Cole were—”

  “That’s done.”

  She reached over, put her hand on Kate’s. “Are you sure?”

  Kate shook her head, trying to smile. “Some fences can’t be mended. I’m pretty certain this is one of them.”

  Harry appeared at the other end of the veranda, waving and walking their way. He leaned down and kissed Margo on the cheek. He took her hand in his, and Kate could see Margo was pleased by his chivalry.

  “Just got w
ord,” he said. “They’ve found the boat. Your ex-husband and his helper are being held in the local jail.”

  At this news, Kate wasn’t sure what she should feel. A little over a week ago, she would have felt all sorts of glee. Now, it was more like sadness for the mess she’d made of her life. Karl’s incarceration was simply glaring proof of it. “You’ll get all of your things back?” she asked.

  “I’m headed down to see about it now. You girls want to go with me?”

  They both agreed, and the three of them caught a taxi to the pier. The boat sat tied up alongside a dock, and just the sight of it made her think of Cole. Tears stung the back of her eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by a sinking sense of loss.

  Harry had to get permission for them to go on board where they were allowed to get their belongings. She let herself into her cabin, not surprised to find that her suitcase had been ransacked, her clothes strewn across the floor. She picked everything up one piece at a time and repacked, closing the latches of the bag with a final-sounding click.

  The leather satchel that held the money she’d taken back from Karl was nowhere in sight. She left the room without bothering to look for it.

  * * *

  IT WAS PROBABLY a bad idea, but she needed to see him.

  Harry and Margo went with her into town where the tiny island jail was located. She’d asked them not to, but they wouldn’t hear of it. And once she stood at the front door, aware that Karl was somewhere on the other side, she was glad they’d insisted.

  Inside, she gave her name and asked permission to see him. They waited for nearly a half hour before someone came out and directed her through a heavy metal door and down a narrow hallway.

  There were four cells on either side of the hall, and Karl’s was at the very end on the right. He sat on a narrow cot, elbows on his knees, looking down at the dingy floor beneath his feet.

  Kate’s escort turned and walked back down the hall. Karl looked up then, his mouth contorted into something closer to a sneer than a smile. “I wondered if you’d come by for a look.”

  She started to deny the accusation, but then realized it might be true. “How did you find us today?”