Dangerous Relations (18 page)

"Don't let me keep you. Please give Vera my very best, and tell her I'll come see her once
they let me out of this place."

Ardin fled the hospital, hyperventilating as intense emotions swarmed around
inside her.
Breathe deeply. Slowly in, slowly out.
She grew more agitated when she
momentarily forgot where she'd parked the car, and nearly wept with relief when she
found it. She stood still, taking deep, slow breaths to regain her equilibrium. She couldn't
afford a panic attack now.

She'd find a way to convince her aunt that Leonie would be fine growing up in New
York. She'd promise to bring her to Thornedale every other weekend.
Everything will work
out. I'll make everything work
.

* * * *

Vera ignored the bag of fruit Ardin handed her, and demanded to know where she'd
been.

"I went to see Aunt Julia. Why?"

"Why? You're supposed to be home resting after getting beaten over the head."

Ardin touched her aching head gingerly. "How did you know?"

"Mrs. Katz called. Ardin, dear, I'm worried about you. I tried your cell phone several times
but I couldn't reach you."

Guiltily, Ardin thought of her switched-off phone in the glove compartment of her aunt's
car.

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I'm here now and I'm fine. Bill took me to Don Epstein to be checked
out."

"Where's Leonie? I was hoping you'd bring her this weekend."

"I'll bring her soon. She's staying with the Presleys for the weekend."

Vera winked. "Leaving Cousin Ardin and her daddy some hot, private time together?"

"Mother! Please."

"Well, are you seeing Brett tonight?"

"No, not any more."

She found herself telling her mother the whole sorry story. She felt lighter as it came
tumbling out, and realized she'd been intending to unburden herself all along. She needed the
outlet, needed to vent, though she expected her mother to mock her for letting handsome, sexy
Brett Waterstone get away.

Vera did no such thing. When Ardin was finished talking and shedding a few tears, her
mother beckoned her closer. "Sit here beside me."

Ardin sat in the chair beside her mother's wheelchair. Vera reached for her hand and held
it between her arthritic hands.

"Ardin, honey, if I could get up and walk, I'd go find that Corey MacAllister and kick him
where it hurts."

Despite her misery, Ardin giggled.

"And then I'd give you a good shaking till some sense came into your head. You screwed up
royally."

"But I had to tell Brett I'm trying to adopt Leonie."

"Right, and plan to take her back to Manhattan," Vera finished for her, "where the two of
you will live happily ever after."

Ardin pulled her hand free. "You don't have to be sarcastic. I'll make a very good
mother."

"So I pray--one day. But Ardin dear, you can't move Leonie away from Julia. And frankly,
she's best off with Brett."

There was no law saying she had to listen to this abuse! Ardin stood, poised to leave.

"Where do you think you're off to? I'm not finished," Vera said.

Ardin ignored her, and continued toward the door.

"Please, Ardin. I'm saying all this for your sake. Please come back."

Her mother's voice, uncharacteristically gentle, made her halt and turn around. She sank
into a chair near the door.

Vera gave a little laugh. "Okay, be stubborn. And maybe some space is good because you're
not going to like what I have to say any more than what you've heard so far. But, Ardin dear, you
screwed up your lovely date because you're scared."

Ardin gave a snort of derision. "Scared of what?"

"Of falling for Brett Waterstone. He's gorgeous, makes good money, and he's halfway in
love with you. In other words, he's perfect."

"Perfect? Hah! He's got a temper, the likes of which you've never seen."

Ardin felt as if her mother's eyes were searching her soul.

Finally Vera said, "Are you afraid he'll lay a hand on you?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "No, Brett would never do that."

"So your brain tells you. But it still hasn't registered with the rest of you."

"How did you know?"

"It figures. Besides, I'm your mother." Vera closed her eyes, as if thinking of what to say
next. "Did you write that letter for Renata?"

"Yes."

Vera sighed. "I hope there are no repercussions. That Maxwell Crewe is bad news. Renata
paid a pretty penny to keep him out of jail a few years ago. And he can be spiteful when he's
crossed."

"Mother! I simply wrote a letter. Don't make a big thing out of it."

"Now I'm wondering if he was the animal who attacked you."

"I didn't see him, but I doubt it was Renata's nephew."

Vera moved her wheelchair close and grasped Ardin's hand. "Please, dear, be careful. I
worry about you, with all that's been happening."

"I will." Ardin kissed her mother's cheek, and got up to leave.

This time Vera made no move to stop her. "Make sure you lock the doors and set the alarm
system when you get back to Julia's house. What will you do tonight?"

Ardin shrugged. "I'll think of something."

The only
something
she could think of to fill up her Saturday night was
bringing in dinner from the new fish restaurant and renting a romantic comedy. A boring,
lonely evening loomed before her instead of a romantic interlude with Brett.

But there was no point in fretting over it. Perhaps her mother was right, that she'd
sabotaged her evening out of fear of getting emotionally involved. Ardin hoped not. That meant she
was a bigger fool than she'd imagined herself to be.

Not that it mattered in the long run. Once she returned to her real life in Manhattan, her
brief fling with Brett would be a memory. The important thing was convincing the judge she'd make
Leonie the best possible parent. Then her job would be to help Leonie adjust to her new home
ASAP.

She felt a stab of guilt at the thought of fighting Brett for Leonie. Leonie loved her
"daddy", but she loved her Cousin Ardin, too. And Ardin had Suziette's will to show
her
preference.

Still, she felt bad, knowing this would hurt Brett. He'd always been generous about
including her in plans involving Leonie. And he'd showed no resentment because she was taking
care of the little girl when he felt she should be with him.

I could call him
to see how he's doing.

What good would that do?
her devil's advocate voice said.
You've dropped
your bombshell, and you've no intention of changing your plans. So keep away from him--for his sake
and your own.

The broiled tuna was surprisingly good, as were the side veggies and rice. Once she'd
disposed of the dirty dishes, Ardin poured herself another glass of Chardonnay, and carried it into
the den.

She finished off most of a quart of rocky road ice cream as she watched the movie, and was
sobbing uncontrollably at the soppy end.

Ten minutes to nine and no place to go. "Time for a nice, sudsy bath," she said in the tone of
voice she'd use with Leonie if she weren't the kind of kid who loved playing in the bathtub. Ardin
rummaged through a pile of magazines in the sitting room for some mindless reading while she
settled in for a long soak.

After pinning up her hair, she stuck a toe in the water. "Perfect temperature. Now for some
lovely down time."

She stretched out in the aromatic bath, and winced when her head touched the hard
surface of the tub. A memory of the brutal attack flashed before her, and she shivered despite the
hot water. A wave of pure terror washed over her, as, for the first time that day, she faced what had
happened. What made it worse was knowing her attacker must be the same man who had
murdered Suziette.

Who was he, and what was he after?
Ardin shivered again. He hadn't tried to
garrote her, so he must have been looking for something.

Something of
hers,
not something belonging to her mother.

No, something he assumed Suziette had given to Ardin.

Which led straight back to her theory that Suziette had been killed because she was
blackmailing the murderer. Just as Dimitri had tried to do.

But what could Suziette possibly have known? No doubt something one of her lovers told
her, something she held over his head.

Was it Corey? Funny how her speculations always led her back to her ex-husband. It still
hurt to realize he'd been Suziette's lover before he'd married her. A sudden stabbing pain caught
her unawares as she wondered if Corey had married her to taunt Suziette.

Brett cares for me.
She closed her eyes. Thinking about Brett was one hundred
times more painful than thinking about Corey. Corey was the past, while Brett was her
present. Had been her present, until she told him of her plans to adopt Leonie.

She couldn't bear to think about Brett, wondering how he was spending his evening.
Instead, she tried to imagine what Leonie was doing that very minute. Leonie was the one golden
light among all the awful things happening around her. The little girl had been amazingly resilient
and in good spirits since her mother's death.

But how much upheaval could she tolerate? For the first time, Ardin wondered if taking her
to live in Manhattan was wise. Thornedale was familiar and filled with family and friends. Leonie
was bound to find living in the city strange and different.

"And exciting," Ardin spoke aloud. Her words echoed hollowly in the large bathroom. Her
aunt certainly didn't want her to take Leonie to live in New York. But that was where Ardin lived,
for God's sake. She couldn't very well move back to Thornedale just to please her aunt.

A clap of thunder shattered the silence, its vibrations rumbling through the house.
Lightning flashed, bright as daylight, across the frosted window panes. A thunderstorm in
Thornedale, with its electrical outages, was no time for a bubble bath.

Quickly Ardin stepped out of the tub. She wrapped herself in a plush bath sheet and
hurried to her room to dress. The lights flickered as she pulled on clean underwear, jeans, and a
polo shirt. They flared when she was tying the laces of her sneakers, and then went out leaving the
house in total darkness.

Ardin fought to stem the wild panic rising in her chest.
It's just an outage, and has
nothing to do with Suziette's murder.

"I need a flashlight." She struggled to focus on the practical. "I saw one in the kitchen desk
drawer. Now to find out if the battery's working."

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. She could make out the dim outlines of furniture,
the doorway. She felt her way along the wall until she faced the staircase.

As she took the first step down, she heard the sound of cracking glass. She spun around in
time to see a bright arc of fire land on the floor of Suziette's room. Flames leaped from the rug. The
acrid smell of smoke permeated the air.

Must get outside.
But her feet remained frozen. The smoke, dense and bitter,
drifted closer, filling her mouth and nostrils.

Move or you'll suffocate!
The smoke caught in her lungs. She coughed, and
coughed again, bent down to gulp in air. The action released the bonds of fear holding her.
She raced down the stairs, fumbled with the locks, and flung open the door.

She snatched her purse from the hall table and ran out into the rain. "Help! Fire!"

She slipped on the outside steps, but righted herself and kept on going until she was
halfway down the sloping lawn. Hoarse, rasping sounds frightened her, until she realized they came
from her as she gobbled down air to ease her sore throat.

She was safe. Now she had to save the house. Her cell phone was in her aunt's car, but she
didn't dare risk retrieving it. She'd call the fire department from a neighbor's house.

The houses on both sides of the street were dark because of the outage. Frantically, she
looked about for signs of life.

The faint sound of voices came from just beyond the driveway. The Sonnenbergs! She was
heading for the break in the bushes, when she saw a figure running toward her.

The arsonist, coming to finish the job!

She veered left toward the street. He chased after her. She heard his heavy panting, his
muttered curse as he shoved her to the ground.

"Ouch!" She fell in a heap on the sodden lawn.

A car engine fired. Brakes squealed. The bastard was getting away.

She tried to stand, but could only sit there, panting. Light swept across her as a car rounded
the corner and headed straight for her. He was coming back!

The car turned onto the driveway and its engine cut to silence. Brett stepped out of his
Jeep.

When he headed for the front door, she realized he hadn't seen her.

"Brett." It came out as a hoarse whisper. "Brett."

This time he heard her. He turned around, squinting in the darkness. "Ardin? Is that
you?"

She managed to get to her feet this time, and hobbled toward him. When she stumbled into
his open arms, she nearly swooned as she inhaled his familiar scent. She was safe.

"Ardin, what happened? What are you doing out here?"

"Call the fire department! Someone set the house on fire. "

He asked no questions, but reached for his cell phone and made the call. "Someone already
called them. They're on their way." He led her to the Jeep and helped her into the passenger seat.
Climbing in beside her, he took her into his arms and rocked her back and forth, crooning wordless
sounds.

It was pure heaven to relax in his embrace. She was out of harm's way, at least for the
moment. But for how long? Someone had tried to kill her and he'd failed.

What if he returns?

"I won't let him get you," he said as he caressed her cheek. "I swear I won't."

How could he know what she was thinking? She wished what he said was true, and then
moaned as her shoulder began to throb, along with her head. "Everything hurts."