All She Ever Wanted (4 page)

Shutting the door behind him, Natalie drew in a deep breath, telling herself to stay calm. Unfortunately, her racing heart and sweaty palms didn't seem to be paying attention. It had always been like this with Cole, an incredible physical attraction that made her feel like she was going up in smoke every time he looked at her. The chemistry between them should have disappeared by now. They'd certainly done their best to bury it. But it wasn't gone, and she had to keep her cool. "What are you doing here?" she asked finally.

"I want to know why you bailed on me last night."

"You were in good hands, and I had another case."

"That's a lie."

"Fine. I didn't want to see you, and I certainly didn't think you wanted me to be your doctor. Was I wrong?"

Emotion flickered in his dark eyes, but she couldn't tell what it was. Had he thought about her over the years? Had he wondered where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with? Or had he been able to forget her as he'd said he intended to do?

Natalie ran her hands down the sides of her sweats, wishing she had on something more professional. Her feet were bare, and her toenails weren't even polished. She could definitely use a pair of shoes about now. She always felt taller and more in control when she had her shoes on.

"You shouldn't have walked out on me," Cole said abruptly.

"Why not? Did you want to walk out on me?" She saw the flash of annoyance cross his face and knew she was right. "How did you find me anyway?"

"I run a newspaper. I can find anyone."

He glanced around her studio apartment, probably noting the sparse furnishings, the secondhand couch, the wooden crate that held her TV and the matching crates that served as a coffee table. Her unmade bed was barely hidden behind the Oriental screen she'd picked up at a flea market. The only remotely inspiring pieces in her apartment were the movie posters on her walls. A longtime insomniac, she'd always found escape from the lonely hours of the night in old movies.

She wouldn't apologize for her place. It had taken every cent she had to get herself through medical school and residency. She still had loans the size of Mount Everest to pay off. Secondhand furniture was the least of her worries. It wasn't as though she were home that often anyway. Or even as though she would be living in this apartment come next month. She had job offers elsewhere. Since running into Cole yesterday, she was leaning toward taking a job at the southern end of the state. She sat down on the arm of her sofa, watching Cole pace.

He'd certainly grown into his looks, filling out his jeans in all the right places. His thick brown hair framed a face that was more ruggedly attractive than truly handsome. His square jaw spoke of his strength, passion, and sense of purpose. The crooked tip at the end of his nose reminded her that he had never been willing to let an errant baseball or a broken nose deter him from what he wanted when he wanted it. Cole was the kind of man who made a girl want to turn him from being a guy's guy into a girl's guy. She'd certainly tried.

She wondered if Cole was married now or single. Then she recalled Josh's comment at the hospital that Cole's girlfriend had thrown a stapler at his head. If she'd wanted to maim him for life, she'd failed. The stitches on his forehead made him look like a wounded warrior, which was even more appealing. What woman could resist that?

She could. She definitely could. And she would.

When he didn't speak, she asked, "How's your head?" It was easier to act like a doctor than an old friend—if that's even what they were.

"All right." His gaze sharpened as it met hers. "Why here, Natalie? Why San Francisco?"

"I told you—"

"There are good hospitals all over the country."

That was true. "I thought enough time had passed that it wouldn't matter. I didn't believe anyone would care where I was, least of all you."

"Well, I don't care."

"That's what I thought." She threw every bit of bravado she had into those words and wished he would look somewhere else, but she'd be damned if she'd look away first. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Is that it?"

"No. That isn't it." He paused. "You said something to me last night about a book and Emily. What was that about?"

Damn. Why did he have to remember her comment? If he didn't know about the book, she didn't want to be the one to tell him. On the other hand, wasn't that the way it should happen? They'd been brought together by her friendship with Emily and ripped apart by Emily's tragic death. Their entire relationship from beginning to end was irrevocably tied to Emily. And here they were again. They'd come full circle. "I picked up a book last night after I heard the author on television. The story line sounded familiar."

"What's it about?"

"It's there if you want to take a look." She tipped her head toward her nightstand.

Cole walked across the room, opened the book, and began to read the jacket copy. She doubted it would take long for his sharp brain to compute the facts. It didn't. His shoulders stiffened, and there was anger in his eyes when he looked at her. "What the hell is this? Fabulous Four ... sorority house ... pledge falls from the roof ... Ellie Parks?" His voice rose with each muttered word. "Is this about—Emily?" He looked at her as if she should know the answer, as if she were responsible somehow. He shook the book at her when she didn't immediately reply. "Is this about my sister?"

"It looks that way."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either. I've only just started it, but the book is about four friends in college who call themselves the Fabulous Four. The characters' names are different, but they all start with the same letters as our names. The book suggests that the main character, Ellie," she said, deliberately using the character's name, "did not die in an accidental fall from the roof of her sorority house. Instead, the author believes that she was ..." Natalie drew in a deep breath, not sure she could say it.

"That she was what?"

"Murdered." The word shot out of her mouth like a bullet.

It hit him straight in the heart. Cole put a hand to his chest. "That's impossible. The police conducted a thorough investigation. I saw the report. My father made sure every question was asked."

"I know. It was an accident, a terrible accident. The book is trying to make it into something else."

"Who did it?" he asked abruptly. "If it's a murder mystery, there must be a murderer. Who killed my sister?"

"It's fiction, Cole. It's part truth, part fantasy. It's Emily's story, but it's not. It's pieces put together in a puzzle that doesn't make sense."

"So tell me the name of the fictitious killer."

"I don't know yet. I haven't finished it."

"And you weren't curious enough to look ahead?"

Actually, she was terrified to look ahead, because she didn't like the way things were lining up.

"Who are the suspects?" he asked.

"Madison, Laura, and me. The author seems to think one of us killed our best friend, but he's wrong. You know that, and I know that."

"Do I? Do I know that?"

"Of course you do," she said, truly shocked at his words. "We were friends, all of us. We loved Emily, and she loved us."

A tense silence stretched between them for long, painful seconds. She knew Cole blamed her for letting Emily down, for not watching out for her the way she'd promised, but surely he couldn't believe that she would have ever intentionally hurt Emily.

Finally, Cole looked back at the book in his hands. He flipped it over to stare at the author's photo. "Who is this guy?"

"I have no idea. He must have talked to someone who knew us."

He threw the book down on the coffee table with such force that she jumped. "I'm not going to let this happen."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find Garrett Malone for starters. I have plenty of investigators on the newspaper payroll. I'm sure we can ferret out one best-selling author."

"You won't need an investigator." She picked up the Tribune and leafed through the pages until she got to the entertainment section. "You might want to read your own newspaper once in a while." She handed it to him. "Apparently, there was also a review in last Sunday's paper. Don't you oversee what's printed?"

"I don't spend time reading the book reviews," he snapped, taking the paper from her hand. "Garrett Malone will be signing copies of his novel, Fallen Angel, at the Page One Bookstore, Saturday, noon to two," he read. "He's right here in town." He looked at Natalie with a glint in his eye. "What time do you go to work?"

"Three o'clock, why?"

"We have a book signing to attend."

"I don't want to go."

"Sure you do. That's why you circled it." He handed her back the newspaper. "Don't you want to find out what's going on, Natalie?"

Of course she did. She hadn't been able to think of anything else since she'd heard about the book. She just didn't want to spend more time with Cole. It was difficult to be with him, to look at his face, to hear his voice. Everything was coming back—all the feelings, the love, the hate, the emotions she'd shut off the last ten years.

"Come with me," Cole urged.

His words took her back to a time when she would have gone anywhere with him, said yes to anything he asked. That time was long gone, but still she wavered ...

"If it's about Emily, you owe it to her to find out."

"All right, I'll come," she said finally. The sooner they got to the bottom of this mystery the better. Then she could get back to her life. And Cole could get back to his.

Come with me. What devil had possessed Cole to utter those words? He didn't want to spend time with Natalie. He still couldn't believe she'd been living in San Francisco the past few years. Had she come here in the hope of a reconciliation? If she had, why hadn't she tried to contact him? If she hadn't come back because of him, then she should have stayed away.

He looked into his rearview mirror and saw Natalie's car behind his. The paint on the hood of her Ford Taurus was peeling, reminding him that she was a woman who had never had much in the way of material things. She'd always struggled to keep her head above water, and it appeared she was still struggling. But she was a doctor now. She'd made it, just like she said she would, and he couldn't help feeling a grudging admiration for that success. Not that he intended to tell her that. In fact, the less personal information they shared the better.

He shouldn't have asked her to go with him to the book signing. He didn't need her. He was a trained journalist. He knew how to sniff out a story. Unfortunately, this story struck too close to home.

He was still reeling from the cover copy he'd read and what Natalie had told him about the story line.

How had this happened? How had his sister's life come to be the plot of someone's novel? This must have been the book his cousin Cindy had called about the day before. She must have seen something in the review that reminded her of Emily. How did the author know so much about his sister? He had to have had an inside source. Who?

Still pondering that question, Cole pulled into a parking space down the street from the bookstore and got out of the car. He waited on the sidewalk as Natalie put money in the parking meter. Her red hair was a bright splash of color against the gray day. She'd changed out of her sweats and put on a cream-colored sweater, a pair of dark brown slacks and shoes with two-inch heels. She'd always loved a good pair of high heels. And he'd always loved her legs in a good pair of high heels. His body tightened at the unwanted thought, and he hated his physical reaction to her. The connection between them should have died with Emily and all that had happened. But one look into those brilliant blue eyes, and he'd felt sucked back in. He couldn't let that happen. Natalie was his past. She had no place in his present or his future.

A moment later, Natalie joined him in front of the bookstore where the double doors were held open by a line of people spilling onto the sidewalk.

"Is this for the signing?" she asked in amazement.

"It looks that way." They moved around to the back of the line, not talking as conversation swirled around them. Cole's uneasiness grew as the line lengthened. He wasn't much of a reader, but he'd been in the media long enough to know that most book events were not standing-room-only attractions, especially for an author no one had ever heard about before.

"This guy must have a hell of a publicist," he grumbled. Checking his watch, he realized it was almost noon. The line would probably move quickly once the signing began. He needed to think about what he wanted to say. He could hardly confront Malone in front of all these people. He'd never expected it to be this crowded.

"Oh, no!" Natalie said.

What now? He followed her gaze to the slightly overweight woman crossing the street. Of average height, she had short dark blond hair that just touched her shoulders. She wore black pants and a matching jacket. A heavy black purse hung from one shoulder and she carried a copy of the novel in her hand. Dark glasses covered her eyes, but he had the distinct feeling he knew her.

"Laura," Natalie muttered, putting her hand on his arm. "I think that's Laura Hart. She's coming this way."

Cole didn't know if he was more unsettled by Natalie's touch or by the appearance of another member of the Fabulous Four. "It might not be her." He took a step back, putting a good foot between them.

"It's her. I'd know that walk anywhere."

Laura suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at them for a moment, then slipped off her sunglasses to reveal a pair of familiar brown eyes. "Natalie? Is that you?"

Cole waited for Natalie's reply. But she couldn't seem to say a word. She just stood there and stared at Laura as if unable to believe her eyes. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, "Yes, it's me."

"I can't believe it. It's been so long." Laura's gaze moved to Cole. Her eyes widened even further. "Cole Parish? You're here, too? You're together? I thought that ended years ago, and—"

"We're not together," Natalie said quickly. "I ran into Cole last night—by accident. He came into the emergency room at St. Timothy's. I'm a doctor there."

"You live and work right here in San Francisco? Are you kidding me?" Laura shook her head in amazement. "I live on the Peninsula, in Atherton. I had no idea we were so close." She paused. "I've thought about you so many times in the past ten years, Natalie, I can't even tell you. And here you are. You look good, too, exactly the same. I would have recognized you anywhere."

"I wouldn't go that far, but you look good, too, Laura."

"I have two kids now, daughters. Oh, and I married Drew McKinney. Can you believe it?" she asked with a proud smile.

"You always said you would. How is he?"

"He's wonderful. He's an attorney and maybe a soon-to-be politician."

Cole thought politics sounded right up McKinney's alley. He'd met the man a few times when he'd visited Emily and Natalie in Santa Cruz, and he'd pegged Drew as a slick player, the kind of man who didn't mind cutting corners. He was surprised Drew had married a girl-next-door type like Laura. He wouldn't have put money on their relationship lasting this long.

"This line is really long," Laura said, taking a moment to look around. "I didn't imagine there would be so many people here."

"I didn't, either," Natalie muttered.

Laura's expression turned somber. "Since you're here, I assume you've both read the book?"

"I've read some of it," Natalie replied. "Cole hasn't started it yet."

"Really? It was reviewed in your paper," Laura said.

That again. At least it was nice to know people were reading the paper. "That's probably the only page I don't read," he said. "Do you think it's Emily's story?"

Laura nodded. "Yes. Reading it is like taking a bad trip down memory lane. Don't you think so, Natalie?"

"Absolutely," Natalie agreed. "Do you know anything about Garrett Malone?"

"No. That's why I came. I wanted to see him in person. Maybe talk to him about the story. I never expected to run into you two." She took a breath. "Are you married, Natalie?"

"No. I've been too busy for that."

Cole turned away from Laura's questioning eyes. He didn't feel like sharing details about his personal life. Just being with Natalie and Laura felt wrong. He'd never intended to see any of them again, yet here he was with two of them. They'd let Emily down. His sister was dead and these two women were alive. They were beautiful, energetic— one with a family and children, the other a doctor.

Emily hadn't lived to see her twentieth birthday, hadn't had a chance to fall in love, get married, or have children. His stomach churned at the injustice.

"Cole?" Natalie's questioning voice made him turn to her.

"What?"

She tipped her head toward the door, and he realized the line had moved. A few moments later they entered the bookstore and caught their first glimpse of Garrett Malone. The author sat at a large oak table, a pile of books in front of him, an assistant standing next to him, preparing each book for his signature. Malone looked exactly like the photo on the cover of his book. A brown beard covered most of his face, thick eyeglasses made him appear supremely intelligent, and neatly styled brown hair was just long enough to give him a creative, artistic look.

"Do you recognize him?" Natalie asked.

He shook his head. "Do you?"

"There's something familiar ... I don't know what though. He's too old to have been a student with us or to have been at the party that night. He must be in his mid-forties. That would have put him in his mid-thirties back then. Anyone that age would have stood out."

"I agree. That doesn't mean he didn't have friends. Hell, maybe even a daughter," Cole said abruptly. "He could be older than you're guessing. He could be fifty with a twenty-nine-year-old kid who was nineteen and a college sophomore that night."

"I suppose. I don't remember any Malones."

"Let me see that book." He took the copy from Laura's hand and opened it to the copyright page. "That's interesting. The copyright is in the name Pen Productions."

"Sounds like a business name. Why is that interesting?"

"I don't know yet."

The line moved again, and they drew within a few feet of the table.

Garrett Malone looked up as a woman with a baby on one hip bent over her stroller to get a copy of the book. He glanced at the line and smiled, a very self-satisfied smile. Cole didn't like him. He was up to something. Something that might hurt his family.

Malone's gaze moved toward Cole. There was a split second of eye contact between them, but no clear recognition on Malone's part. If he knew so much about Emily, why didn't he recognize her brother? Cole wondered. Then he saw Malone's gaze shift, and he realized the man was looking at Natalie now, or maybe Laura. Suddenly Malone was on his feet.

"He's getting up," Natalie said. "Is he coming over here?"

"I think he saw us," Laura added.

Malone said something to his assistant, who looked surprised and worried. A moment later Malone left the table entirely, walking briskly toward the back of the store and away from the line— away from them.

"Where's he going?" Natalie asked.

Before Cole could move, the assistant stepped up to the table and raised her hand for quiet. "Mr. Malone is feeling ill. He's very sorry, but he can no longer continue the signing." She paused, clearing her throat, obviously upset by the sudden change in events. The crowd of people began to complain. The store manager stepped up and offered those in line ten percent off their purchases.

Cole didn't wait to hear more. He headed toward the back of the store, knowing he was too late when he saw the door leading to a back parking lot.

"Is he gone?" Natalie asked, almost tripping over his heels as he stopped.

"Looks that way. Damn."

"Do you think he's really sick?" Laura asked.

"Hell, no."

"He ran away," Natalie said. "He ran away when he saw us."

"When he saw you," Cole corrected. "He looked right through me, but he knew one of you, maybe both of you."

"But we don't know him," Laura said. "Do we, Natalie?"

Natalie was still thinking about Laura's question as they walked into the Starbucks next to the bookstore. She wasn't quite sure why she'd agreed to have coffee with Laura. She had mixed feelings about renewing their friendship. Fortunately, she didn't have Cole to worry about. He'd taken off, muttering something about "getting to the bottom of this."

"I'll have a nonfat, decaf latte," Laura ordered. "I'm on a diet again. Or should I say still?" she added with a little laugh.

"I'll take a double espresso," Natalie said, stepping up to the counter. Caffeine was as much a part of her life as breathing, and far more important than food, which was probably why she didn't battle the bulge as often as Laura did.

They sat down at a small table while they waited for their drinks.

"I was thinking about you last night, Natalie," Laura began, her voice a bit wary. "The book brought everything back. It was as if the last ten years just vanished. And seeing you now, it feels like it was yesterday that we were ordering coffee at Pete's on the Boardwalk and talking about school and friends and guys that were driving us crazy. I feel like Madison and Emily are going to walk in any minute and join us." A shadow crossed her face. "But I know that can't happen. I shouldn't have even said it. I always did talk too much."

"I know what you mean," Natalie replied, letting Laura off the hook. "It does feel the same. I don't know why it does. We're not nineteen anymore. And a lot has happened since then." Their friendship had not ended naturally. They hadn't just drifted apart as college friends do. Their relationship had been shattered by Emily's death, by their behavior that night at the party and by the guilt they each felt for letting Emily down. Madison had taken off before the funeral, sent to Europe by her parents, and Natalie had transferred within the week to a college in Los Angeles. It hadn't taken more than ten days to end what had once been intense and beautiful friendships, the best Natalie had ever had, and something she doubted she would ever share again.

"Do you miss her?" Laura asked.

Natalie looked into Laura's eyes and said with utter sincerity, "Every day. She was the best part of all of us."

Laura nodded, blinking back a tear. "I always thought so, too. I've tried to tell people about Emily, but I can never find the right words to describe her. It's easy to say that she was beautiful and fun and full of life, but she was more than that. She was our spirit, our inspiration. She made us believe in ourselves." Laura shook her head. "But that's not even right, because it makes her sound like she wasn't real, like she couldn't get down and dirty, you know? Of course, you know ... I'm rambling, aren't I? I just can't believe we're sitting here together after ten years of silence between us." She took another breath, her brown eyes softening even more. "I missed you, too, Natalie. You and Madison. I missed us, the way we were together. Actually, I missed me, the fourth girl in the Fabulous Four. I don't think I've been fabulous in a while. And I don't think I realized that until last night when I started reading the book."

"You weren't the fourth girl," Natalie said, trying to defuse the emotion in their conversation. She'd never been as comfortable with sharing personal thoughts and feelings as Laura had been. "It's not like we had numbers or anything."

"Oh, please. I was definitely fourth. Emily was number one, because she was the ringleader. You were two, because you were her roommate. Madison was three, because there's no way she could ever come in behind me, so that makes me four. It's okay. I was happy just to be in the group."