Maxine (Donatelli Series) Page 5

  Angelo finished and handed Cara a hand mirror. He had layered her hair to take advantage of the natural curl. “Angelo, you’re a genius. I won’t let anyone cut it but you.” Running her fingers through her hair, she felt the curls spring back. Her first short haircut. No more braids or ponytails, no more twenty-minute sessions with the hair dryer. No more snarls that took forever to work out. It felt light and free. She should have cut it years ago.

  Cara pulled a few thousand dollars from her purse and handed it to Angelo. “Is this enough to get started?”

  Tony shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Track your expenses and don’t forget to pay yourselves. As soon as I can get around, I’ll get the company set up and you can help other people, too.” Whether she stayed here in Gig Harbor or not, she’d set up the company to help other people with earthquake repairs. It was the least she could do for other victims.

  Nick walked outside and played Frisbee with the dog, and Tony and Angelo followed. Cara had longed for a dog like Riley when she was a kid, especially after her little brother, her only sibling, died from a tragic fall. Johnny’s death threw their mother into a deep depression and she needed full-time medical help, so the trustees of the estate sent her to a sanitarium, where she lived until her death last October. Johnny had a collie, but the dog wasn’t allowed in the house after Cara’s guardians moved in. Mrs. Corinth proclaimed the dog ‘unclean’ even though he was kept bathed and brushed. The dog lived with a member of the household staff until he died of old age.

  Tony and Angelo said goodbye and took Riley home. Cara found Nick sitting on the front steps, staring out at the water. She sat beside him. “Nick? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Helping Mrs. Cooperman was a nice thing to do, but you didn’t stop there. You’re setting up a company, for God’s sake.”

  “If you had the kind of money I have, wouldn’t you use some of it to help people?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I didn’t ask for the money, Nick. Sometimes I feel guilty, having so much when others don’t have anything.”

  He stared at her for a minute, his eyebrows knit. “How much money do you have?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “How many people work for you?”

  She shook her head.

  “In your house. How many in your house?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know all their names or what they do. Why?”

  He picked up a rock and tossed it into the water. “I wouldn’t want anybody in my house I didn’t know and I’d sure as hell want to know what they were supposed to be doing.” He glanced at her. “I’m the suspicious type, okay? Maybe someone in your house is working with your husband.”

  “Maybe so.” Most of the staff had been there since long before she married, and they didn’t like Lance. But he could have brought someone in.

  “Do you still have guardians?”

  “They’re still living in the house, if that’s what you mean.” Even though she didn’t want them there, the trustees had insisted they stay.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  He shrugged up his hands. “They why in the hell do you still need guardians? Do you pay them?”

  “I don’t know, Nick. I don’t handle the payroll.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Cara, you’re a grown woman. Isn’t it time you took charge of things?” He tossed a rock at the water and walked away.

  She was stung by his words and his tone of voice, but she would not apologize for her money. Nick had never even seen her house in California. He had no idea how many people it took to keep that place running. And, she had to admit, neither did she.

  Cara shivered from the cold breeze off the water and walked inside. Mr. Pettibone had run the house since she was a little girl. He did the hiring and firing, supervised the staff, handled problems and disputes, and generally made things run smoothly. Her guardians had had some disputes with him when they first came, but Mr. Pettibone had made it clear that he considered all matters having to do with the management of the house and grounds and the staff necessary to run it to be his responsibility, and his alone. Mr. and Mrs. Corinth had deferred to his judgment, giving him the respect he demanded. In exchange, Mr. Pettibone left all matters dealing with Cara to Mr. and Mrs. Corinth. He’d ordered the household staff not to interfere with the way Cara was supervised. She knew now that he was separating their duties the best way he knew how, maintaining peace and order in the house, but Cara’s friends on the staff distanced themselves from her when she needed them the most. At thirteen, she was left without family, without friends, without comfort.

  Mr. Corinth was a stern, rigid man who demanded respect, but gave nothing in return. Mrs. Corinth moved quietly through the house, looking in on Cara, opening doors without knocking, invading her privacy, disapproving of her clothes or the way she wore her hair with a look and shake of her head. When she spoke to Cara, it was always to criticize, never to praise or encourage.

  As a teenager, Cara didn’t wear makeup because Mrs. Corinth didn’t approve. Her friends stopped visiting because her guardians watched and listened to everything. And Cara wasn’t allowed to leave the house without one of them with her. They’d cut her off from everyone. No matter what the trustees wanted, she should have sent those people packing years ago.

  “You look deep in thought,” said Nick.

  Cara looked up. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m in. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving. Nick, about what you said—”

  He held up his hand. “I don’t know anything about your life, Cara. I should keep my big mouth shut.” He dug through the kitchen as she settled on a stool at the bar.

  “Do you really think Lance could be working with someone in my home?”

  He shrugged. “You never know. When did you meet him?”

  “Last October, at a party.”

  He grabbed a can of soup and a can opener. “Did someone introduce you?”

  “No, he just... He seemed to seek me out. I remember being kind of surprised that he chose me.” There were so many beautiful women there that evening.

  Nick gazed at her face, his brows knit in confusion. “Why? Don’t other guys choose you?”

  “No. I’m not comfortable at parties. I’ve never been good with small talk, I hate petty gossip, and forget flirting. I don’t know how.”

  He opened the can and dumped the contents into a pan. “Then why go?”

  “This was a birthday party for a college friend. She insisted and I didn’t want to let her down.”

  “Did she invite this guy?”

  “I don’t think so.” There were a lot of people wandering in and out of the club that evening. Security was almost non-existent. Cara’s friend was a gregarious young woman with hundreds of friends. Nobody would have noticed a few extra people. Cara intended to make an appearance, wish her friend a happy birthday, and then leave. And then she met Lance.

  Cara watched Nick put the pan on the woodstove. “Lance has the most incredible blue eyes, hypnotic almost. He’s so charming he could have any woman he wanted. Other women at the party came on to him, but he stayed with me. I remember feeling embarrassed by all the attention.” She stared at her bare wedding ring finger. She’d taken her rings off and put them in the drawer beside the bed. Now they were buried in the collapsed cabin. “For the first time in my life, I felt pretty, worthy, desirable.”

  Nick squeezed her hand. “Cara, you are pretty, worthy, and desirable.”

  It was such a nice thing for him to say, she kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back, he smiled and pointed to his lips. “You missed.”

  Nick was a great guy. “Your wife must have been crazy to leave you.”

  His smile faded. “She didn’t leave me, I threw her out, and we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and your husband.”

  The mere mention of his wife made him bristle. She wond
ered what happened to make him hate her so much, but she couldn’t ask. “My husband. God, how I hate that he’s my husband.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t always hate him or you wouldn’t have married the guy.”

  No, she didn’t always hate him. Until she heard him on the phone with his ‘honey,’ she thought she loved him. Now she knew he’d done a massive snow job on her, and she was so gullible she believed everything he said. He’d made her believe she could have a happy life with a loving husband and children, but everything was a lie, right from the start. She was too starry-eyed to see the real man.

  “In the beginning he was very sweet and understanding.”

  “Like me?”

  Not quite, she wanted to say. Nick was an uncut diamond. Lance was nothing but a polished imitation.

  He stirred the soup. “So you married the guy.”

  “Two months after we met, a week before Christmas. We eloped and I was in heaven.” She looked down. “I thought he loved me. I thought... It happened so fast I had no time for second thoughts.”

  “That’s what he wanted, Cara. He didn’t want you to have time to think about what you were doing. Did you have someone check him out?”

  “You mean like a security check?” Cara shook her head.

  “Do you have someone check out the people you hire?”

  “Of course. The house is filled with priceless art, paintings, and...” She lifted her hands and dropped them in her lap. “I don’t even have a prenuptial agreement.”

  “If you divorce him, he’ll still win, won’t he?”

  “He married me under false pretenses, Nick. I shouldn’t have to give him anything.”

  “You’ll have a fight on your hands.”

  “I know.” If only she knew how to fight. Running was more her style, but she couldn’t run forever. At some point she’d have to stop running and face Lance.

  <>

  Lance’s tearful television interviews brought so many phone calls, he had pages of tips, sightings, and psychic visions to go over at the end of each day. He tossed the visions. He never believed in that crap and there were too many other leads to follow up on without wasting his time on somebody’s stupid dreams.

  After four reports from people claiming they’d seen Cara at the mall in Spokane, he decided to go there himself. The PI was checking out another lead in Portland. Lance had to find Cara soon or he’d be broke again.

  And he hated being broke.

  <>

  The next day, Cara was startled by the sound of a ringing phone. It was Nick’s Aunt Sophia calling to check on him. Cara had no one who cared enough to check on her, no one to grieve for her if she’d died in that cabin. No one. Everyone in her family was gone except her husband, and he and his ‘honey’ would probably dance on her grave.

  Two days later the power came on. Cara was delighted. Power meant hot, running water. “I’m taking a hot shower,” she announced to Nick.

  “The hell you are. You can’t get your leg wet until after the stitches come out.”

  “Then you take them out.”

  “Wuss! If you want them out, take them out yourself.”

  “Please, Nick. I haven’t had a shower in so long, I can’t stand myself. We’re out of clean clothes, too.”

  “Okay, I’ll start the laundry when you finish your shower, then it’s my turn.”

  She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “You are getting kind of ripe.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Save a girl’s life and she insults you.” He wrapped her leg in plastic wrap and topped it off with tape. “Don’t stay in there too long or the tape will come loose.”

  “Will you wash my back?”

  His eyebrows lifted and a smile split his face. “Will you wash mine?”

  Heat crept up Cara’s neck and into her face. “Never mind.”

  “We could shower together. Conserve hot water.”

  Cara rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the bathroom. Funny how she felt more comfortable with Nick than she ever had with Lance. The more time she spent away from her husband, the more she realized that what she’d felt for him had been physical attraction, not love. He was the first man who’d ever told her she was pretty, the first man who said he loved her. The only man she’d ever had sex with.

  As she stepped under the hot water, she wondered what it would be like to make love with Nick, to have those big, rough hands on her body and his lips on hers. The ache she felt at the bottom of her belly had nothing to do with her earthquake injuries. She wanted more than friendship with this guy, but she was still married. Still tied to a man she despised.

  The hot water felt soothing, especially on her sore shoulder. Her right arm moved without hurting now, except when she tried to reach up. She felt better every day. The wound in her leg had healed nicely according to Nick, but just thinking about someone punching a needle into her flesh to sew it together made her sick to her stomach.

  Nick pounded on the bathroom door. “Hey, save some of that hot water for me.”

  After a final rinse, Cara turned off the water. She dried off the best she could, wrapped the wet towel around herself, and called Nick to take the plastic wrap off her leg.

  “Take it off yourself.”

  “I can’t look at it.”

  He said something under his breath and pulled the tape off. “Looks okay.”

  “How many stitches?”

  He looked up with a cocky little smile. “Count ’em yourself.”

  She shot him a look meant to wither, but all it did was make him laugh.

  The only thing she could find to put on was one of Nick’s long-sleeved work shirts. She rolled the sleeves above her hands. The long tails covered her behind, but just barely. She covered her legs with a blanket. Not even a clean pair of socks in his dresser drawers.

  She needed clothes, but how? If she called someone to send clothes from California, Lance could find out. And she didn’t dare try to get anything from the house in Seattle. Shopping was out, at least for now. Nick’s Aunt Sophia said they could get to town from her house, but the beach road was still out. The best solution was a boat.

  “Nick, do you know how to drive a boat?”

  “Yeah, sure. I used to have one, a twenty-eight-footer. I lived on it until I married Lisa.”

  Cara made her way to the sofa, trying not to trip on the dragging blanket as she walked. “Why don’t we buy one?”

  “Come on, Cara.” Nick waved his hands while he talked, something he did often. “Is that your answer to everything? Just buy one?”

  “Nick, think about it. I need to have my stitches out. I need to see an attorney. We need groceries. I need clothes. Can’t you use a boat?”

  “I can’t afford to buy a damn boat.”

  “Then I’ll buy one for Max and Company.”

  He stared at her for a minute and shook his head slightly, as if he couldn’t believe her. “You’re crazy.”

  She lifted her chin and stared him down. “Do you have a better solution?”

  Without a word, Nick lifted his hands and dropped them.

  “Let’s buy a thirty-footer or thereabouts. It doesn’t have to be new as long as it’s in good condition. Are there places in Gig Harbor that sell boats?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Then call one. If they have a boat you think would do, have them bring it out so we can see it.”

  Nick stared into her eyes for several seconds, as if asking if she were buying the boat for him. Cara suspected he already knew the answer. A boat would solve their temporary transportation problem, but it wasn’t the only reason for buying one. Would he go along with it? She didn’t want to step on his pride.

  “Are you sure, Cara? It could be pricey.”

  “It’s all right, Nick,” she said gently. “We can afford it.”

  “You can afford it.” Nick flipped through the Gig Harbor telephone book. He couldn’t afford the damned dinghy, and having a woman buy things for him, even th
is woman, didn’t sit well with him. Was she trying to say thank you for saving her life or providing necessary transportation? Or was she asking to stay longer?

  He wouldn’t mind having her stay, except he didn’t want to have a run-in with her pretty-boy husband. Still, he didn’t like the idea of sending her away when he knew everyone in the world was looking for her. With a reward on her head, someone was bound to recognize her and call her husband.

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  Chapter Five

  Nick made his call and showered while Cara folded the clean laundry and dressed in a pair of his clean sweats, still warm from the dryer. About the time the second load of laundry came out of the dryer, Tony and Angelo appeared with Riley and a bag of food. Nick stuffed the clean clothes in a basket, set it on the coffee table for Cara to fold, and told his cousins about buying a boat for Max and Company.

  Tony set the bag of food in the kitchen. “Ma sent a pan of lasagna. Salad, bread.”

  Cara smiled. “Oh, that sounds so good. Let’s eat it now.”

  Nick turned on the oven. “We ate canned chili for breakfast. It was the only thing we had left.”

  Cara wrinkled her nose. “Disgusting stuff.”

  “Cara, have you been watching television?” asked Angelo. “They’re saying you’ve been spotted in San Francisco, New York City, Portland, Spokane, and Yakima. Your husband is supposed to be on his way to Spokane right now.”

  “Good.” With any luck, he wouldn’t search Gig Harbor. As soon as Nick found a boat, she had to see an attorney and get started on the process of ending her marriage. Lance would find her at some point, but if she could get the legal process in motion and change her will before he found her, maybe he’d give up and leave her alone.

  <>

  After a delicious lunch with her new friends, Cara saw a small cabin cruiser pull up to the neighbor’s dock. She took Nick’s arm. “Let’s go check it out. Come on, guys, help us out.” It wasn’t a big luxury yacht like her grandfather had once owned, but it looked like a comfortable boat.