The Bride Collector (30 page)

“I doubt it.”

“So you see, he
is
coming for you,” Cass said. “I can see that look in his eyes from here. He’s got one thing on the brain, that one. Not to
worry, it’s all I think about as well. Just remember what I told you.”

Before Paradise could respond, the door opened and Allison walked in, followed by Brad Raines. Two thoughts collided in her
mind. The first was that they’d been caught staring out the window.

The second was that she’d forgotten how beautiful Brad Raines was. He wore jeans today. She’d never seen him in jeans. They
made him look more like her, in some ways. She felt silly for comparing herself to him.

“Hello, friends,” Allison said, smiling. “I see you’ve been expecting us.”

“No,” Paradise said. “Yes, they have been, talk, talk, talk, you know. Can’t shut Casanova up.” She wished she could meld
with the wall.

“Hello,” Brad said, dipping his head at them all. His gaze settled on Paradise. “I guess you all heard.”

“What’s this all about?” Roudy demanded. “More evidence? He left another note, I suspect.” He flipped out his hand. “Give
it to me and I’ll have my assistant prepare it for my analysis immediately.”

“You look handsome today,” Andrea said.

Paradise glanced at her friend, and saw that she was staring at Brad with those eyes. How could Andrea be so forward now,
after everything?

“Yes, you do,” Paradise agreed, then felt silly for saying it. But she wasn’t going to let Andrea walk all over her, either.

“Thank you.” His eyes were on her. “If you all don’t mind, I need to speak to Paradise. She may be able to provide us with
information—”

“What, the ghost thing again?”

“Roudy, please.” Allison
tsked
. “Don’t be like that. There are a lot of desperate people out there right now. Now, please, give us a few moments. Hmm?”

“How long?” Roudy persisted.

“An hour, Roudy. Maybe two. Please. Paradise will be along.”

“I need a shower,” Andrea said. “Sorry, sorry.” She walked quickly toward the hall door.

Roudy set his jaw and headed toward the exit behind them, pouting.

Casanova walked up to Brad and took his hand and kissed it. “I’m so sorry for your loss, young man. She was indeed a stunning
beauty. Just remember, there are more where she came from.” Then he, too, left.

“The room’s all yours,” Allison said. “But I wouldn’t linger here long. You’re bound to be interrupted.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I am, Paradise.” Allison walked up to her and touched her cheek with a warm hand. Her words were as soft as her smile. “It’s
okay, young woman. Not that you need it, but you have my permission to tell him whatever you want. He’s a good man. I think
you can trust him, I really do.”

Paradise nodded slowly. “I do trust him.”

“Yes, but I think you can really trust him. And I think you can trust yourself. Don’t be afraid, child.”

Then she turned and walked toward the door. “I’ll be in the reception area if you need me. Oh, and I think the south lawn
is the most private place on the grounds. At the pond behind the aspen grove. Paradise, you know the place.”

The pond. Why so far? It was near the fence, and Paradise avoided going so close to the fence at all costs.

“Paradise?”

“Yes. The pond, yes.”

“Good.”

And Allison was gone.

“Well.” Brad was smiling, a little red in the face himself. “That was a bit ridiculous.”

The comment eased her a bit. But she had to stay on point here. From the moment Allison had told her that Brad Raines was
visiting CWI again, she’d been a complete mess. Within fifteen minutes she’d broken down and told Andrea, and the rest was
history.

You would think that Romeo and Juliet had come back to life and were reuniting on these very grounds! The very fact that she’d
allowed herself to entertain the most fleeting fantasies over these past few days was horribly embarrassing.

The fact that the mere sight of Brad made her palms wet now was downright shameful. She had to maintain control.

Brad cleared his throat. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Because Nikki’s dead,” she said. Then added, thinking her delivery too crude, “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. But you were right about the jack in the whole.”

“Allison showed us the last note. Roudy and Andrea spent a whole day on it, but they couldn’t come up with anything.”

“I think it was a note for me.”

“That’s what I told them.” She paused. “Did you love her?”

He blinked. “Nikki?”

What was she doing?

“Not like that, no,” he said. “But we were very close.”

Paradise almost asked him what he thought about
her,
but she caught the words in her throat before she made a fool of herself. The room was feeling stuffy and she was sweating,
so when he said that maybe they should take Allison up on her suggestion to find some privacy near the pond, she jumped at
it, fence or no fence.

She caught sight of Bartholomew’s Afro behind some bushes as they exited the women’s wing. Fortunately, they were headed away
from him. They walked in silence, and her awkwardness grew. She became aware of every step she took. Her sandals, which she’d
never worn until today, looked like something out of a bad Cleopatra movie. His leather shoes, on the other hand, looked like
they might cost her full monthly allowance.

They were both wearing jeans, but hers were too short. Why were all her jeans too short? She’d never realized that until just
these last few days.

Andrea had told her yesterday that her hair stank, so she’d washed it. Andrea always thought everyone’s hair stank. But now
Paradise was thankful because she was walking just in front of him, and he was probably looking down on the top of her head
at this very moment.

She couldn’t bear it any longer. So she stopped and let him pass her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I need to fix my shoe; just keep going.”

She made a show of fixing the strap on her sandal and then followed when he continued down the sidewalk. If she stood on her
tiptoes, the top of her head might reach his underarms. He was built like a god, Andrea had said. She had to agree.

Her mind spun with an image of Cleopatra inviting the newest servant, the strong, bare-chested specimen from the south who’d
only just joined her court, to demonstrate how he shot his bow. She wanted lessons in the garden. Just the two of them. She
must know precisely how he held the bow, and she walked up behind him as he flexed, bowstring drawn back tight. She traced
his back and his arms with her delicate fingers as she studied his posture. His muscles were like vines beneath his skin.
Suddenly, from behind a tree on their right, came his lover, a witch from the north who had cast a spell on…

“Okay, stop.” Brad halted, holding up his hand.

She plowed into his back, then scrambled back. “Sorry. Excuse me, I didn’t realize you were going to stop. If you would have
told me, I would have gone around. I didn’t mean to run you over.”

He didn’t seem to care. “I can’t do this,” he said.

Dread spread down her face. “Me neither.”

“I just don’t feel right about it.”

“Exactly. I never did feel right. And they’re not really Cleopatra sandals.”

That stalled him. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. What were you talking about?”

“Allison said I should just be honest.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she agreed. “As opposed to lying, yes, she would say that, she used to be a nun. I mean, I would,
too, of course. Honesty is always best, particularly around someone like me who despises a fake.”

“Really?”

“You like fakes?”

“Then you know why I’m here?”

“Because Nikki is… you know…” She made a motion with her hand but quickly gave up, realizing she didn’t know how to say dead
without saying it. “Dead.”

“I mean… why I’m here with you,” he said.

She had no clue, because she was purposefully controlling her own mind and forbidding it to wander. Well, yes, she did have
a clue. They were here to try to shake loose the memory of what she’d seen in the kitchen. The ghost. “To get me to remember…”

“And the only way to do that is to get you to trust me,” he said. “You realize that?”

“I do. And I already do trust you.”

“Yes but… I mean…” His eyes shifted, and he used his large, strong hands absently. The ones with trimmed nails. Her nails
were trimmed as well, but with her teeth, which Andrea said was a nasty habit. Had she bitten her nails while he was watching?
She couldn’t remember!

“More than just trust,” he was saying.

“Like what?”

“Like become comfortable with me. Release your fears. Whatever’s blocking your memory.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I think so. You want me to let go of my inhibitions so that my mind lets go, so to speak, and recalls what I saw.”

“Something like that. Yes.”

“But you’re afraid that we might get too emotionally involved,” she said.

His eyes widened slightly. She’d spoken too frankly, she knew that the moment the words had left her mouth, but seeing his
reaction, she felt strengthened. She had some power over him. It was the first time she’d exercised this kind of power over
a man like Brad, and she found it amazingly satisfying.

“You’re afraid I might fall in love with you,” she pressed. And now he blinked. Then blushed. Not much, but just enough to
encourage her even more.

“Or that, however unlikely, you might fall in love with me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Well…” Now his face was bright red.

Then Paradise thought about everything she’d just said, and she felt her own face turn hot.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Raines. I have no intention of falling in love with you.” She walked past him. “Now come on, let’s go to
the pond and see if we can’t figure this out.”

“Brad,” he said. “Please call me Brad.”

And for a moment she felt like his queen.

THEY SPENT AN
hour at the large fountain that Allison called a pond, doing nothing but talking and walking about the stained concrete patio
and sitting at one of the four benches, twirling aspen leaves and flicking small stones into the pool, yet it felt to Paradise
like five minutes.

She kept looking back to see if any spies were peeking around the building, and when none appeared she decided that Allison
must have set things in order. To think of it, here she was, Paradise Founder of all people, meeting with a man alone by the
pond, and the whole center knew about it. It made her feel quite special.

She’d never spent time with a man before, even if it was to talk about a killer. But they didn’t talk about the killer. They
talked about the center a lot. He wanted to know about her daily routine.
Everything
about it. How one person could be so interested in the details of what she did every boring day was a surprise in itself.

How she got up at seven most mornings. Had two eggs for breakfast, sunny-side up on wheat toast with hot cocoa and a small
glass of orange juice. Usually with Andrea.

How Andrea then followed her back to her room and insisted that she brush her teeth. She showed Brad her teeth and asked him
what he thought. He laughed and told her they were surprisingly white and straight, then stumbled all over himself to explain
that by
surprisingly
he didn’t mean he would have expected anything less from her. But straight teeth, especially without braces, were actually
quite rare.

He wanted to know more, so she went on through the day, describing her card games with Roudy, who equated everything with
codes and espionage and clues and such. She was friends with most of the residents who’d been around for more than a year,
but not like she was with Cass, Roudy, and especially Andrea, whom she’d taken under her wing at Allison’s request.

They talked about her connection to the outside world. Yes, they had phones in their rooms and could receive or make calls
anytime. And of course they had access to high-speed Internet.

He seemed surprised when she told him about the pictures of naked women that a resident named Carl kept taping to other residents’
doors before Allison removed his privileges. It hadn’t really bothered Paradise. After all a naked body was a naked body.
But some of the residents were far too upset, like Andrea, or far too interested, like Cass. She didn’t quite get the way
people reacted to nakedness, and Allison said this opinion was part of Paradise’s makeup, as was her general disregard for
appearances in general.

She shrugged and he laughed. She had to admit, she liked him. She really did like Brad.

They talked about her family, or what she could remember of it, meaning she only talked about Angie, her half sister, whose
real name was Angel. He seemed surprised by that.

She pulled out the old photograph she always kept in her back pocket. “See?”

He took the picture. Then looked at her and the photograph. “I can see the resemblance between you two.” He eyed them both
again. “She’s beautiful.”

Paradise didn’t know what to do with that. Had he just called her beautiful? No, that wasn’t right. But he had said they were
similar, and everyone said that Angie was beautiful.

His questions weren’t the general kind she got from most. He wanted to know, really know, the details. What does your room
look like? Where do you buy your socks? You buy
everything
online? Which sites are your favorite? So she told him.

His visit had nothing to do with the killer and everything to do with her. Sure, he was doing it all to win her trust, but
even knowing that, she still sensed genuine interest from him. He didn’t have the cold eyes of an investigator trying to trick
her into answering, or the dead eyes of a psychiatrist listening because it was his job.

His eyes were filled with fascination and focus. They reached deep into her own, wanting to know more, what she was really
like. On a few occasions she could swear he looked like he wanted to consume her with those eyes. And twice he touched her
shoulder while he was talking.