Secrets and Lace: A Dark Romance Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 1) (11 page)

“Okay. You two can go ahead. I think I should stay until tomorrow. I want to make sure my mom's okay.”

Miles nodded. “Your mom seems nice, by the way.” He smiled for the first time since we’d started talking. “I convinced her to come to Boca Raton to see some specialists.”

“Thank you. I'm glad you managed to convince her. Maybe a doctor there will be able to help.”

“Yeah.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I'm sorry about what I said over the phone this morning, how I reacted when you told me you wanted her to come and stay with us. I really don’t know what was wrong with me. She's your mom. If you want her to come and stay, I'm fine with it. We have too much space for just the two of us anyway. Whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “I love you, Chloe. I'll do anything for you. I hope you know that.”

I swallowed the lump inside my throat. “I
do
know that, baby.”

“I can't wait to see you tomorrow. We should have dinner or do something nice. I'll leave work early.”

I kissed him again. “Sounds great.” I held his face between my hands. “I cannot wait to be your wife, Mr. Miles Durant.”

“And I cannot wait to be your husband.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

I returned the smile. “All right, then. I guess I better go inside. Are you leaving right away?”

“I think it's best. We’re going to drop off the car at the rental place and get on the jet straight away. The pilot is waiting. I already said goodbye to your mom. Tell Owen to come out?”

“I will. I was surprised to see him.”

“I hope you don't mind that he came with me. He’s dealing with some issues in his life and needed a sounding board. And I needed a distraction from worrying about you.”

“I feel bad for accusing him of being the stalker.”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. You were afraid.” He kissed me deeper and pulled back almost suddenly, leaving me breathless. “See you tomorrow, my love.”

Five minutes later, Miles and Owen were gone.

Chapter Nineteen

Mom was busy cleaning up the dining table, surrounded by the aroma of ginger. Her frantic movements and the sparkle in her eye told me how excited she had been to meet Miles.

“You look... happy.” I threw my purse on the table and sat, physical and mental exhaustion weighing me down.

“Your Miles is a wonderful man. Look what he gave me.” My mom stretched out her hand. On her thin, pale wrist was a gold and diamond Rolex. “Isn't it beautiful? I never thought I’d own one in this lifetime.”

“Wow—yes, it is. And you deserve it. What did you guys talk about before I came home?”

“They weren’t here too long before you arrived.” She touched my arm. “Don't worry, I didn't tell him anything.”

“Thanks, Mom. And thank you for looking after them. I know you don't have too much energy.”

“I've never felt stronger. And he's my future son-in-law. And Owen, he seems like a lovely young man too.”

I looked at my mom as though she had transformed into an alien. How could somebody look at Owen and think he was lovely? But of course he must've turned on the charm. Who was I to burst my mom's bubble?

“Yeah. He and Miles went to college together.” I fiddled with my pearl earring. “Mom, there's something I didn't tell you. While Miles and Owen were in college, they developed a popular social app called Torp Mobile. They made a lot of money from it.”

“I’ve heard about it, and I know who he is.”

“Miles told you?”

Mom smiled and shook her head, her face flushed.

“What did you do, Mom?”

“When you told me his name, I thought it rang a bell. I knew I had heard it somewhere. So I went online last night and looked him up.”

“You did?” I laughed. “And do you approve?”

“How could I not? You're marrying a billionaire. Those girls from high school would die with envy if they knew.”

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t all about the money, but since she introduced the topic of death, I decided to bring up Stacy. Mom was shocked to hear about her disappearance and alleged death.

“How tragic.” She sank into a chair. “It's not right for a person to die so young.”

“It took me by surprise as well.” I pressed my eyes with the tips of my fingers. “Melanie was the one who told me Stacy was dead, but I bumped into someone else from high school... Larry. He was in the same class as me. He said
her body was never found.”

“Goodness. That’s just horrible.” She pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. “Did you find out anything from Melanie and Larry that can help you?”

“Not really. All I know is that Stacy is dead, and Melanie didn’t want to talk to me. She wanted the past to remain in the past.”

“What you kids went through
is
a hard thing to live with. Sometimes, pretending something like that never happened is the only way some people cope. That's her way of dealing with it.”

“I guess you're right.” I removed my shoes and massaged my feet. “I don't want to bring her more pain. I’ll have to get the information I need another way.”

“I hope this ends soon.” Tears flooded Mom’s eyes and she wiped them away quickly. “Did you tell Miles what happened? What does he think about it?”

I lowered my head, still ashamed for lying to Miles. “He doesn't know about that night. But he seems suspicious. He came here because he found a card at the house yesterday. I told him I didn't get any more.” I pulled one of the newest cards from my purse. “But I did, Mom. I found this on my car, after I left the church. Whoever's doing this knows I'm here.”

“Why don’t you want him to know? He must love you deeply... for him to come all this way.”

“Yes, he does.” But another nagging thought entered my mind. Miles had given me the impression that he wasn’t only worried about me. It was almost as though he was jealous of my stalker. But I brushed the thought aside. It was ridiculous. “He’s a wonderful man, and very kind. But that's the problem. He can be too kind sometimes. If he knew what I did, he—”

“You don’t think he will understand?”

“I know he won’t understand. If I tell him, everything will change. He will leave me.” I buried my head in my hands. “I just wish all this would go away before the wedding.”

“So do I.” Mom stood. “I'm making lunch—chicken casserole, your favorite. Are you hungry?”

I was grateful she was trying to change the subject, to distract me, but my mind wouldn’t stop running, reminding me of the danger I was in. My favorite chicken casserole would not help that. “Thanks, Mom. If you don’t mind, let's make it a late lunch. There's some work I need to do first. I'm sure I’ve got tons of emails waiting. I also want to see if I can find out anything about Stacy online.”

“Okay. Come down when you're ready.”

“I will.” I stood and went up to my old room.

At first I sat on the bed, gazing into space, trying not to think about anything for a few seconds. But the spinning thoughts refused to be stilled.

I gave up attempting to calm down and switched on my laptop. Even though I was on leave, I still intended to fit in some work whenever I could. There were tasks only I took care of even when I was out of the office. I also liked to approve most article ideas my employees came up with—potential stories that could make headlines. But I found it hard to focus on work. All I could think about was my own sordid tale. If the press ever got hold of my story, they would have a field day.

I did some breathing exercises while my computer warmed up, but the knot inside my stomach had no chance of unraveling. I did not even bother checking my emails. I went straight online and typed in “Stacy Prammer + Misty Cove.” I got nothing but a few social media accounts belonging to various people who shared the same name.

Next, I typed in “designer Stacy Prammer.” Various links started popping up. Most of the information was about her business, but when I went to the company website, it stated the domain did not exist. The business must have dissolved after her death. I clicked on more links and got to see some of the wedding dresses Stacy had designed. They were pretty spectacular. She had always wanted to be a designer, and it hurt to know she was robbed of her dream so early—if she was really dead.

I didn't find anything about her personal life and disappearance—or death—which was what interested me the most.

Finally, I gave up and went to read my emails. Hopefully they would keep me busy until lunch.

As I had suspected, I had hundreds of emails in my inbox, all vying for my attention. Some of them were from Tina, but most had to do with work. There was also one from Kirsten, and then a few others from names I didn’t recognize.

I decided to open the personal ones first before getting bogged down by articles and deadlines. I responded to Tina immediately, and confirmed that my mom was coming to the wedding. Then I opened the email from Kirsten. It was a virtual card with a kitten singing, telling me to have a nice day. It managed to bring a tiny smile to my face.

As soon as I closed her email, I noticed another one from an unknown address. I normally didn't click on emails from people I didn’t know, but I couldn’t help myself. It might contain one of the answers I was looking for.

I regretted it immediately. Nausea slammed into me and I jumped up from my chair. I made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet.

After sitting on the bathroom floor for a long time, shaking and feeling cold all over, I stood up again, but had to hold on to any solid surface to help me move myself forward. I dreaded returning to my computer, but I had to see the email again. This time I read the message that had accompanied the single photo. One line.

Is this what you were looking for?

My heart thudded as I scrolled down and looked at the photo again. A woman in a wedding dress, the lace and tulle spread out around her like white foam. It would have been a beautiful wedding photo, if it weren't for the blood that stained the white, or for the smudged makeup, the tangled hair, and the garter belt around her neck. Her dead eyes stared back at me as though they could see me.

For the first time, my stalker was communicating with me directly. He was everywhere, watching me, taunting me. He could be outside the window right now. I held back a scream as I went to shut the window.

Miles was right: I was in danger. But I couldn't ask anybody for help.

Chapter Twenty

After the proposal, many women dream of the perfect bachelorette party, followed by the perfect wedding and honeymoon. I was no exception.

The night after Miles had asked me to marry him, I'd fallen asleep dreaming of being surrounded by my friends, bubbling with joy as I showed off my ring, reveling in the attention poured upon a bride-to-be. I never thought I'd end up feeling the way I did right now, inside the beautiful Lakeside Terrace Boca Raton, but wishing I could be someplace else.

Everything was gorgeous, just as I would have liked it to be. The round tables were covered with luxury damask covers and adorned with fragile white roses, my favorite flowers. The food and champagne were exquisite. But as breathtaking as everything was, I no longer felt excitement at the thought of my upcoming nuptials. What if the happiest day of my life ended up being my worst nightmare? What if I ended up dying in my wedding dress just as Stacy had? The thought made my insides quiver.

My eyes darted to the ladies on the dance floor. I had been among them a minute ago—I had to pretend I was having a good time—but I'd just returned to the table.

Dancing with the people I called my friends, most of whom were work colleagues, I couldn't help wondering if one of them was the enemy. At this point, everyone was a suspect in my eyes. Anyone who had ever come into contact with me was my potential stalker or an accomplice. I lived in fear each day, afraid my stalker would show up any moment and catch me by surprise. After seeing the brutal photo of Stacy, I lived in constant fear that I might soon come face-to-face with my enemy.

“Chloe Parker. It's been so long. I haven't seen you at Freyt in a while.” Lindsay, someone I knew from the gym, approached my table and pulled out a chair.

“So nice to see you, Lindsay. Thanks for being here.” If I had planned my own party, I probably wouldn’t have invited her. I felt similarly about a few other people who were present. In the two years we'd known each other, we'd never even shared a drink outside of the gym juice bar. In the past year, since I met Miles, we'd hardly seen each other at all.

This was Kirsten’s doing—she confessed she had snuck my phone out of my bag a few weeks ago and invited most of my female contacts to the bachelorette party.

Lindsay reached for a champagne glass that wasn't hers and downed it, then she started fanning her face with her hand, a huge smile pasted on her face. It didn't look real. When I looked at her, all I saw was envy. She wanted what I had, or was about to have, anyway. I kind of felt sorry for her. She'd never been lucky at love. The road she'd traveled was strewn with bad relationships and two broken marriages, and she was only thirty-five.

Lindsay was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever met, with a pixie haircut that complimented her heart-shaped face, and huge green eyes. But she often complained that men were only interested in sleeping with her.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world. With a man like Miles in your life, I knew any party of yours would be spectacular.” She flashed another fake smile. “So, how does it feel to be getting married to one of the richest men in the country?”

I shifted in my chair. A few days ago her words would have had a different effect. In just a few days I had transformed into someone else. Back then, I would have beamed at the mere thought of getting married to one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, but right now, Miles’s persona and wealth meant nothing to me.

When you're faced with a life-or-death situation, priorities change. Right now I didn't care about the billions attached to Miles’s name, the expensive rock on my finger, the wedding everyone was waiting for, the exotic honeymoon he was planning for us. I only wanted him. I wanted to be his wife. I would choose him even without all the money. I wouldn't even mind if we lived in a two- or three-bedroom apartment, as long as I had my man. I wanted freedom from fear, and time to enjoy my life with Miles.