WADE DIDN’T EVEN take me to LaGuardia.
He sent a limo to pick me up and take me there. We had said our good-byes that morning before he left for the city, and I’d watched him drive off. He had been cool and distant and what I’d describe as stoic. I had come to know Wade Devon, and what I knew was that this was disturbing him.
How I felt was despondent.
I was going to see my parents. I missed them. We talked all the time, but I missed them. I loved Thanksgiving with them. My parents are warm and fun-loving, and I couldn’t wait to be with them, and yet
…
a part of me was missing.
I arrived at the airport to hugs and kisses.
My dad got my suitcase, they stuffed me into their cute little Honda, and off we went to their condo. Sunny, warm, and full of palm trees, Thanksgiving sure didn’t look the same.
Within the first half hour, I was unpacked and we were all having a swim in the pool that took most of their backyard.
Later, inside, setting the table for turkey and the fixings, I asked my father, “Don’t you and Mom miss the horses, though? You used to ride all the time.”
“Charlie, we still do. We lease a couple of horses not far from here,” my mom answered for him. “Remember? I told you.”
I laughed. “No, you didn’t, but I’m glad.” I hugged them and thought of Wade. What was he doing? Who was he with?
My cell rang, and I fished it out of my purse. We dress up for the holidays—no jeans allowed—and my sundress of blue had no pockets.
“Hi,” I said when I saw his number.
“Charlie? I wanted you to know
…
”
He stopped there. I said encouragingly, “Yes—?”
“That you are missing out on the best turkey ever made.”
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Ah, you don’t know what the best turkey is till you’ve eaten my mom’s.” I hoped my voice sounded light and carefree. Games, back to games.
“Okay.” He chuckled. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
And he was gone.
Not once in all these weeks had he ever said he loved me. Not once had he allowed himself to go that far. So, of course, I hadn’t told him either. Yes, perhaps that was a game, but it was the kind I so needed to win. I loved him more than I loved life. I wanted him not to leave, and so I kept the word out of the equation, hoping he wouldn’t be frightened off—hoping he would find it possible to allow himself to go that far.
He obviously wasn’t ready.
I turned and found both my parents staring at me.
My mom tried to sound casual as she asked, “Who was that?”
“Wade Devon
…
I told you
…
we have had a few
…
er
…
dates.”
My parents exchanged glances, and I bit my tongue. I knew they were wondering but wouldn’t ask, and this wasn’t the time to tell them I didn’t have a clue where whatever it was that I had with Wade Devon was actually going.
* * *
The Friday and a good part of Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend went by without another call from Wade. I was feeling down and just a bit sick over it.
My phone began vibrating, and I dug it out of my jeans.
Him
. I didn’t know if I was angry or happy. I said, “Hi.”
“Open the door, baby,” he said, and his voice sounded hungry
.
No, not hungry
. He sounded like a man who was starving.
I opened the door, and there he stood. All six foot something of him in a black Armani sports jacket, a white silk open-necked shirt, and blue jeans. He was hotter than hot with his black hair shining all windblown around his too handsome face and his blue eyes glittering.
I’m not exactly sure what happened next. I know I threw my arms around him. I know he hugged me like he would never let go.
I know at some point we both realized my parents were sitting on the couch watching us with keen interest.
I turned, and I must have been pink because my cheeks were burning, and said, “You remember
…
Wade Devon
…
of course.”
“Well, of course,” my father said, hand extended. “Are you enjoying Norcross? My daughter says you kept the name.”
He shook my dad’s hand and said, “I love the farm, and, yes, loved its name.” He turned towards my mom. “How good to see you again,” he said. “Hey, wow, you two look like sisters.”
My mom gushed like a teen. I laughed.
They ushered him inside and offered him a drink and food.
Wade’s smile was radiant. He said, “I don’t want to horn in on your time with your daughter, but I was wondering if I could steal her away for just an hour?”
“Nonsense—horning in? No such thing. She needs a break from us. Go on, you two
…
go out, have some fun,” my mom said. I noticed my dad went quiet.
Outside, my hand in his, he said, “Charlie
…
I’m sorry. I meant to let you enjoy your weekend with your parents. I wasn’t planning on this, but, I couldn’t stay away from you any longer
…
”
I looked up at him. “I’m glad.” That seemed safe enough to say. I wanted to tell him I loved him madly. I wanted to tell him I had been sick with missing him.
“Charlie, another thing
…
it wasn’t Gloria
.”
“What wasn’t?”
“The arsenic poisoning. It wasn’t Gloria who sent the strawberries.”
I had forgotten about the incident. “Really? Are you sure? Who then? Why?”
“My man hasn’t yet been able to identify him, as he paid cash for the basket and we believe was in some sort of disguise. The florist we tracked down in Port Jefferson—and we had to go through five of them first—said he remembered because he thought the guy was wearing a cheap wig under his baseball cap. As far as Gloria is concerned—you did see her that weekend. She was there. Seems she is obsessed and is now seeing a shrink about it, but she denied sending the basket, and when we got down to it we discovered she was telling the truth.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He sighed. “My team thinks the poison was in fact meant for me—that you have a stalker, and he wants me out of the way.”
My hand flew to my mouth and then my forehead. “Why?”
“Because another attempt was made. I received a box of pears from a shop I frequent in the city. My security detail wouldn’t let me sample it until it was tested, and again, arsenic poisoning.”
I felt my world start to spin.
Someone was trying to injure, maybe even kill, Wade? Because of me?
He drew me into his embrace and murmured against the top of my head, “I thought you would be safe down here with your parents while we concentrated on locating him. To be safe, Tim, who heads security for my firm, has a man who’s been watching you. And I’d like to escort you home tomorrow
.
”
“My parents?”
“Are fine. They’ll be fine, but Tim says that stalkers very often become violent with the object of their desire when they aren’t successful. Right now, baby, all I know is that I have to keep you safely near me until my people find and deal with the threat.”
“This sounds like something out of a TV show
…
I can’t believe it,” I whispered.
“Come on, let’s go in and invite your parents to dinner. I know a place on the water that is absolutely fantastic. My people are here, and we have nothing to worry about. In fact, they believe he has temporarily backed off.”
“Are you sure, Wade? Are you sure my parents will be okay?”
“I’m positive, but if it will make you feel better, I will leave a man here for the next week to just make certain. How’s that?”
I relaxed. “Yes, that’s good
…
but who would stalk me? I can’t think of anyone
…”
“We’ll talk about it more when we get back. For now, let’s go in and make arrangements to wine and dine your parents. It is the least I can do to show my appreciation for making it so easy to buy Norcross with a built-in beauty for a tenant.”
That jarred me a little. He might have thought it a ‘cute’ thing to say, but it hit me wrong. However, it was said, done, over, and it was what it was.
Besides that, I had bigger things to worry about. I had—no,
we
—had
a stalker in the shadows.
WE RETURNED HOME via MacArthur airport in Wade’s jet. I have to say, I was impressed. More so because he told me he could fly it.
“Really—you can fly a jet?”
“Yes, but it isn’t something I enjoy, so I don’t usually.” He shrugged it off. “Really, once you get the hang of it, it’s no different than driving.”
“Yeah, right.” I snorted.
He laughed and hugged me close. “Charlie, your parents were great, but I’m not sure your dad is happy about you
…
and me.”
“My dad is a man. You are a man. He doesn’t think you’re the ‘settling down’ kind of man and doesn’t want me hurt.”
“And your mom? She doesn’t agree with his theory?”
“My mom thinks like a woman. She believes if it is meant it is, and if it isn’t
…
then it isn’t. She knows either way I am strong enough to deal with it.”
“And is she right? Are you strong enough to deal with the day we discover it’s over?” he asked, and there was a strange catch in his voice.
“Yes, I am,” I lied. At that point I didn’t think I was. “But are you, Wade Devon, are you?”
He took my hand to his lips. “Don’t leave, Charlie
…”
“What makes you think I will?”
“People leave each other all the time,” he whispered.
“Oh, all the time? Like my parents?”
“They’re the exception,” he answered.
“Ah, baby,” I told him. “Exceptions aren’t accidents. Exceptions are made.”
Soon after that, he fell asleep.
He didn’t sleep long, but like a light switch it was ‘awake and then not awake.’
I sighed and began thinking about our stalker and Gloria. She was seeing a shrink, and Wade had told me after some prodding that he had convinced her boss to offer her a position in the firm’s Chicago office. Would that help her, I wondered. Could she have hired someone to poison the strawberries and pears?
And how did they poison the fruit? By injection? You’d have to have access to syringe needles.
A limo was waiting for us at MacArthur, and soon afterwards the new driver (one of Wade’s security detail people) drove us to Wade’s house.
“I should go to my apartment,” I told him.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it’s home,” I offered.
“Not tonight,” he answered. “I told you, I want you near me at all times until this guy is caught.”
As we went into the house, I went to the large rearview window to have a look at Sassy and Mr. Goat. Something was wrong.
Sassy was pawing the earth and making whining noises I had never heard her make before. It was already late afternoon and getting dark, but I looked for and found Mr. Goat lying on his side in the paddock.
I screamed.
Mr. Goat was my beloved pet. I’d lost my German Shepard two years ago and hadn’t been able to even think of getting another dog. Now, Mr. Goat was down.
I rushed outside.
Wade and two men followed. I was over the post and rail, and I don’t even remember jumping it but I must have as I didn’t take time to open the gate.
Sassy seemed comforted by my presence and snorted as I ran and fell to my knees.
He was alive. Oh God, he was alive. This wasn’t colic or any other obvious illness, and I had an awful feeling about it.
“Poor Mr. Goat
…
What happened?” I turned to Wade. “The vet is a good friend of my dad’s. Can we take him right now
…
please?”
Wade and one of the two men lifted him. Mr. Goat was too weak to object as they put him in the bed of Wade’s pick-up truck (a new addition to the farm’s vehicles).
Wade turned to his security men. “Did you see anyone who didn’t belong here?”
“We weren’t watching the paddock, sir, only the house.”
“It doesn’t matter
…
drive
…
just drive,” I said as I jumped into the truck and waited for Wade to dig out his keys.
Two other security men appeared in their dark SUV, and I knew they would follow us. Poor Mr. Goat. I was sure someone had done this on purpose. I just didn’t believe in that many coincidences.