Deeply, Desperately (26 page)

Leo dashed off.

The vertigo had faded by the time he came back, thrusting the pen and a notepad at me. I wrote down the landmarks I'd seen, including the island's name.

I picked up my phone and called Sean. A few rings later, his voice mail kicked on. I hadn't heard from him all day, not since that morning. I tried not to read too much into it, but I couldn't help the flash of jealousy. But soon ... soon, Cara and I would be on even ground.

"Sean's not answering. I'll just call his brother, Sam."

"Something going on with that young man of yours?" Leo asked.

"Nothing we can't work out."

He nodded, his white eyebrows dipped in concern.

I dialed Sam and he answered on the fourth ring. "I think I know where she is," I said, watching the smile bloom across Leo's face.

"Lucy?"

"Sorry. Yeah, it's Lucy."

"You're talking about Joanne Winston?"

"I did a reading with Leo, using old love letters. I saw the letters in a house on an island in the Abacos." I described everything I'd seen.

"This is great, Lucy. I'll get my contact right on it. It shouldn't take long."

"It won't take long," I repeated to Leo. "Thanks, Sam."

Leo was looking at me as I hung up, a softness in his eyes. "Love can be complicated."

He was still talking about Sean. I smiled. "You know that better than anyone."

"I surely do. My best wishes to you."

"Thanks, Leo."

He kissed both my cheeks. "Call as soon as you hear anything."

"I promise."

"If you need me to talk some sense into that young man of yours, you let me know."

Laughing, I agreed to take him up on that offer if need be.

But if my plan worked, there would be no need. No need at all.

My GPS smugly told me that I'd reached my destination. I glanced up at the stucco apartment building. Despite my side trips to the Loehmans' house and to Leo's, I was right on time.

"Who is that with you?" my mother asked. "And why is Em living with Dovie?"

"Long story about Em, and it's my GPS, which I really need to give a name."

"Is that why you called me? To name your thingy-mahoo?"

"Is that a technical term?"

"Sassy!"

"Do I need a reason to call?"

"You're after something. I can tell with your tone. How about Judie for the thingy? And where are you?"

"I'd like to stick with my literary theme so Judie is out, and I'm at Cara Franklin's apartment."

"Judie
is
literary. 'Judy in Disguise With Glasses' is one of the best songs ever written. Who's this Cara? And you avoided my reference to you wanting something, so now I know you want something. You have
my undying love. I'm not sure what else you want from me."

"And you call me sassy? And a bespectacled Judy is not quite the literary reference I was going for."

"Snob. John Fred and His Playboy Band would be crushed."

I smiled, purposely avoiding answering her query about Cara. "I'm thinking along the lines of Rebecca, or Jo from
Little Women
."

"How about Scarlett from
Gone with the Wind
? Oh, oh, or Scout from
To Kill a Mockingbird
. One of your favorite novels, as I recall."

This was why I loved my mother so very much. I suddenly wondered if Sarah Loehman had contacted Faye yet. Or if she ever would. I hoped so. I truly believed that relationship could be rebuilt over time.

"My GPS woman sounds too old to be Scout, so Scarlett it is. It fits. She definitely has a superiority attitude."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Why'd you call me, LucyD? Spit it out."

I drew in a deep breath. "I know you've had a few shocks this week, but can you handle another one?"

"I took a Xanax earlier, so I should be good."

I rolled my eyes, shut off the car. "I might need to use some of my trust fund."

Not for Maggie O'Meara--not yet. But for something equally important.

My mother gasped. "Lucy, why now?"

I looked at the apartment building. "I have a war to win. I have to go."

"War? What war?"

"Bye, Mum!" I snapped my phone closed.

I tamped down any reservations, checked my watch to make sure I was still on time, and climbed the steps to the second floor. Scrounging up my faltering nerves, I quickly knocked on the door. I knew Sean wasn't here--he'd returned my earlier call. He was done with Cara for the day and on his way to my place.
To be with me
. It bolstered courage.

84 - 6 is ...

The door opened. Cara's jaw dropped.

"Hi," I said. "Should you be answering the door? Shouldn't you be in bed? Resting? Since you're so sick and all?"

"I--ah--no one else is here to answer it."

I barged right in. "Well, I'm here now." I linked arms with her. "Let's get you back to bed."

She wiggled free. "What's this about? What are you doing here?" she demanded with a gravelly, sultry voice I immediately envied.

"I came to see you, of course. Here." I thrust a bag at her. "I brought presents."

Pretty blue eyes blinked rapidly at me as if not quite believing I was standing in front of her. She sat down on the couch, slowly opened the bag. "Magazines? Books?"

"Keep digging." I sat next to her. "The good stuff is at the bottom. Junk food. You know, to keep you busy during your leave of absence."

I glanced around, wished I hadn't. Everywhere I looked were pictures of Sean and Cara together.

She followed my gaze. "We've been together since senior year of college."

"Long time," I said, not correcting her tense.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you get married?" I asked, knowing full well why. She'd all but deserted Sean as soon as he was well enough to care for himself after almost dying.

"I, ah, he, ah, we ... That's none of your business."

"I think you're wrong about that."

"Sean and I were fine until you came along." She shook her head and her black hair shimmered in the light. "You just need to go away again."

"We both know that's not true."

"Things change." Her soulful eyes challenged me. "He seems to be spending a lot of time with me now."

"I'm not just walking away, Cara. I love him."

She snorted. "You can't compete with me. And definitely not now that I'm sick. Sean's going to be moving back in here soon enough."

"Why would he?"

"To take care of me. It's only a matter of time before he's back in my bed again for good."

My jaw clenched. "I don't think that's going to happen."

"You can't do anything about it. He'd never leave me here alone, not with all I have going on."

The doorbell rang. Right on time.

"I'll get that." I jumped up. In the hallway, I smiled
at the woman standing there. "Can you give us just another minute?" I left the door ajar.

"Who's that?" Cara asked.

"Your nurse. There will be two of them, splitting staying with you around the clock to make sure your every need is met until you have a firm diagnosis, and if you are seriously ill, they'll be staying on to help you out. If there's something the nurses can't provide, please let me know. I'll see you get it."

"Oh no! No way. I don't want a nurse."

"You don't have a choice."

"The hell I don't."

I opened my bag, dropped copies of the Handmaiden letters on the table. "No, you really don't."

She slowly sank down into the couch. "H-how did you know I sent them?"

"I'm psychic, remember?"

"There's no such thing."

"Then how did I know?"

Her eyebrows dipped, she looked at me, opened her mouth, closed it again. I sat down, trying to be cool and calm. I'd never been good at bluffing. Or calling them, for that matter. "Personally, I don't believe you're sick. It was smart to pick a disease that's nearly impossible to prove. But the letters ... they were your big mistake. Because only another woman can truly understand why you mailed them. To hurt me, because you're jealous. And because you're so jealous I know you must want Sean back. But I have to wonder if your big ploy to get him back is worth going to jail?"

"Jail! For what?"

"Those letters fall under the stalking law, Cara." I stood. "I just wanted to warn you before I went to the police. The investigation might take some time, which is why I hired the nurses, but I'm sure you'll be proven guilty in the end."

She jumped up. "Wait!"

"What?"

"I'm sure we can work this out."

I picked up my bag. "I don't think so."

She rocked on her heels. "You can send the nurse home. I'm not sick."

Sick might be in the eye of the beholder. "I'm glad to hear that."

"And if you don't go to the police, I'll leave Sean alone."

"You must really love him," I said sarcastically.

"The hospital cut my hours. It's expensive living on my own. Not that you'd know about expensive. He's a decent guy," she said, shrugging. "He'll take care of me."

I stared at her, in shock. "You mean to tell me you put Sean and me through this because of money?"

"A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

"You're right about that." I headed to the door.

"So you won't go? To the police?" she asked, following after me.

"I haven't decided."

Her eyes narrowed. "But we had a deal. I can easily call off my end." She put a hand to her forehead, pretended to swoon. "I might have to call Sean. I don't feel so well."

"That's because you're not well," I said. "And I
think you're only allowed one call from jail, so you might want to think about calling a lawyer instead."

"Sean won't like that you threw his sick girlfriend in jail."

"We'll see about that."

Furious eyes rested on me. "You won't be able to prove a thing. I made sure my prints weren't on the notes. There's no DNA, no nothing."

I pulled open the door. "Did you get all that?"

"Every word." Marisol, dressed in scrubs, stood in the hallway with one of the thingy-mahoos (my mother would be proud) from Sean's toy bag. She rewound and played back Cara's confession.

Cara let out a small scream and slammed the door on us.

"She's mad," Marisol said.

A crash came from inside the apartment. And another as Cara threw things around. "Only a little. Thanks for helping me out."

We walked down the steps. "I had a blast. Now I can see why people do this for a living."

"Don't you remember being freezing in the car?"

"Everyone has to suffer for their art."

I laughed. "You're not planning to quit your job, are you?"

"Never. But it's been a nice side job. What would you have done if Cara hadn't confessed? If she was really sick after all?"

I appreciated that Marisol didn't lecture me about keeping the letters secret. "Tap into my trust fund and call in some nurses."

Marisol whistled. "Are you going to let the police know?"

"Probably not. I think I'll let her worry about it for a while though. Stew. She deserves some sleepless nights. Payback."

"You're going to have to tell Sean."

"Yeah." I wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"I don't know what he saw in her anyway."

The cold stole my breath for a second. "Why? Because she's self-absorbed, malicious, crazy, and did I mention crazy?"

"No." She unlocked her car door. "Because she's nowhere near as pretty as you."

I smiled. Leave it to Marisol to tell me exactly what I wanted to hear.

Saturday afternoon the waiting area outside the security checkpoint at Logan was full of eager faces, waiting to be reunited with loved ones.

"Staring at it won't help," I said to Leo as he watched the arrivals and departures board with an eagle eye.

It was closing in on four o'clock. Joanne and Lea's flight had been delayed three times already. If this kept up, I was going to be late for Dovie's party. If I could get out of it without a year of guilt trips, I would. I yawned. I'd been up early, on a mission.

Preston checked her watch for the fifth time in a minute.

"They'll hold the deadline for you," I said.

"Yeah, but I still have to write the piece."

"Of course. Because this is all about you."

"Go away," she grumped.

The past two days had passed in a bit of a blur. I already had a new client for Lost Loves, my Christmas shopping was now all but done, and Sean and I had been spending a lot of time together. As much as we could manage with our crazy schedules. It wasn't
until late yesterday afternoon when Cara called Sean to tell him she was moving to Arizona to live with her mother and stepfather that I told him about the Handmaiden letters and Cara's confession that she wasn't really sick.

"You took quite a risk," he said.

I shrugged. "All's fair in love and war, remember?"

"Love?"

"Love."

He took me in his arms, held me close. "You could have told me about the letters."

"You would have smothered me."

"If you want to call twenty-four-hour, never-leave-my-sight, glued-to-your-side protection smothering."

"Well, put that way, it sounds more like a fantasy come true."

And from that point on, all had been forgiven, and Cara had all but been forgotten.

It was sometime in the middle of last night when I realized that battle I had been waging had not been with Cara. It had been within me. Whether I'd been ready to make that leap into a full, long-term commitment, to voice what I truly wanted from Sean, what I truly wanted from
us
.

I should thank Cara, really, for provoking what I'd been trying so hard to deny--that I loved Sean Donahue. Deeply. Desperately. And knowing so, without a doubt, would help me fight anything that stood in our way. Stalkers, exes, curses, fates.

Leo paced a two-foot square. "What if she doesn't like me?"

He was referring to Lea. We'd already had this
conversation ten times today. I smiled. "She'll like you."

Sam had called last night with the news that Joanne and Lea were on their way to Boston. Leo had been beside himself since. Preston wasn't much better. She was alternately giddy and nervous.