When Will I See You Again (34 page)
Stay calm. Stay calm.
Use that head for something other than
showing off your pretty face, for once.
Okay, common sense told him that Jon would notice that he was no longer transmitting. He’d wonder what was going on, probably send someone in to check things out. So if he could buy some time…
But then, if he did that, what would happen to Alexx? Damn, why hadn’t Alexx arrived at the van? No, he couldn’t take a chance that Foster was telling the truth about having him, or doubt that he was willing to hurt him. It was obvious that Foster had his own resources and wasn’t afraid to take advantage of them. He had to make sure that he and Foster got out of Charisma safely, no matter what. Then he could deal with the rest.
They moved together with a curious shuffling gait toward the door at the end of the hall—which seemed impossibly far away now—a grotesque parody of a happy couple. People they passed smiled and nodded. Raoul plastered a grin onto his face and nodded in return. Of course no one saw anything unusual. This behavior was what he was known for, wasn’t it? Love ’em and leave ’em Raoul. A new man for every night of the week, maybe more than one. The life of the party—the host with the most—the fucking prince of Charisma. He bit angrily at the inside of his cheek, damning himself ten times over for being a shallow waste of space, for putting Alexx’s life in danger, his rage fueled by bitter self-loathing.
Foster Levine, know that you
will
pay for this.
They reached the door, and for a moment Raoul thought if they triggered the alarm, it might bring help, but then he realized that the door had been propped open, allowing a gentle breeze to enter the hallway. So much for that idea. And wait ’til he found out whose bright idea that was, though perhaps that was just something he’d not noticed before. There seemed to be a lot of things he’d not paid attention to in his pursuit of pleasure. He forced himself to focus on the current situation. There’d be time for recriminations later. Hopefully.
He knew Jon and his father were right outside, somewhere.
What would they think when they saw him and Foster leave together? Would they follow them? Could he take that chance? He didn’t think so.
“Do you want to take my car?” His voice was surprisingly calm and cold. Calculated, even. Seeming cooperation might buy him some time. He didn’t even have the key, hadn’t seen the need to take it from Alexx, considering he was doing all the driving. He
hadn’t even missed being behind the wheel.
“No, thank you. I’ve made other arrangements.”
They emerged from the nightclub into the balmy night air. As late as it was, it was still relatively warm, even for January. Fewer cars were parked on this side of the building, preferring to be as close to the front entrance as possible. Raoul quickly scanned the parking lot, searching for an inconspicuous van where the surveillance was surely taking place, but there was nothing within his immediate line of sight. Maybe they’d parked farther away than he’d realized.
“Keep moving,” Foster directed him. “Our ride’s right there.”
A bright yellow taxi with the logo of the biggest cab company in Crescent Bay was parked in front of them.
“Get in front.”
The driver’s side was unlocked, and Raoul slid inside. If he could start the engine, he could rabbit away from his captor, and…
And what? But he found that wasn’t even an option when he reached for the ignition and found it bare. Glancing toward Foster, he saw the other man dangle the key from one hand.
“Nice try but no dice.” Never taking his eyes from Raoul, he slammed the front door, then got into the back. The glass that normally separated driver from fare had been removed. Foster aimed the gun directly at the back of his head. “Now drive.”
“Where to?”
“Where would you like to fuck?” Foster’s grin was growing wider by the second.
“Is that a serious question?”
“No, not really. I just wanted to see what you’d say. Don’t worry, I know just the place. Do as I say and your little boyfriend won’t get hurt. Yet. Now, start driving, head back to town.” He
tossed the key onto the cloth front seat beside Raoul.
Raoul palmed the key and inserted it into the ignition. Maybe it wouldn’t start, his irrational mind hoped, but the engine turned over smoothly, and he put the vehicle into gear.
“Why do you keep calling him that?” He tried to distract Foster. Maybe Jon, or his father, would notice the cab, see him driving it, and draw appropriate conclusions. By now they must wonder what was going on. “He’s nothing to me. If you want to kill him, it’s no skin off my nose.” He glanced into the rearview mirror, meeting Foster’s eyes there.
“You thought I actually bought that little charade?” Foster snorted contemptuously. “I knew better. You never fooled me.
Maybe all your dumb sheep, but not me. Turn right.”
Raoul pulled the cab onto the main road. Traffic was relatively light, being a Monday night, which was good in one sense. There would be less chance for an innocent bystander to be hurt should he get the opportunity to escape Foster’s careful guard. On the other hand, should Jon elect to follow him, he’d probably stick out like a sore thumb.
If there were only some way to keep Jon at a distance, figure out where Foster was keeping Alexx, and then rescue him… Even as he thought it, he couldn’t help but think it sounded like an almost impossible task. The operative word being
almost
.
Foster gave him directions on where to turn, taking him on an irrational course that became a convoluted Cook’s tour of Crescent Bay from one end to the other, while seeming to head nowhere in particular. It was as if he feared being followed. But why, if he held the upper hand, as he claimed to?
It finally hit him when they turned in the direction of the ocean where they were going, and the knowledge shook him. At one
time, Foster had been a frequent visitor to the Marchand beach house, along with all of Raoul’s classmates. What could he possibly want there now? Was he mired in the past, wishing to relive their youth? The thought was a chilling one.
His theory was proven correct when Foster instructed him to park beside the beach house. Only the security lights were on. He knew where his father was, and surmised that his mother was probably at the restaurant. At least they were out of harm’s way.
“I have a key to the house, if that’s where you want to go,”
Raoul offered, hoping to placate Foster and keep him from doing anything stupid.
“Just get out of the car.” Foster pressed the gun briefly into Raoul’s shoulder, as if to remind him who held the upper hand.
“You want to fuck, right? No one’s home. We can use my old room. The bed’s still there.” Maybe if Foster got what he wanted, he’d let him go. He clutched at straws.
“I said get out of the car.”
Raoul did as he was told. He kept his eyes on Foster as he climbed from the backseat, looking for any slip in his vigilance, but it was constant and never ending.
“You know where to go, Raoul.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do. Take me where you took him. To the beach.”
Raoul flinched. He realized that Foster didn’t mean Alexx, not at all. He meant Jamie. Why was it that his past was so inexplicably tangled in his present? To the point where he was beginning to forget where one ended and the other began.
“Move it!” Foster barked. Raoul started, before putting one foot before the other in an automatic gesture. Foster maintained a safe distance between them, one that precluded any heroic or
foolish moves on Raoul’s part. And so none were made.
All Raoul could do was bide his time. At least until Foster tipped his entire hand, and he could see just what this lunatic had in mind. There was no doubt that Foster was not playing with a full deck. Somewhere along the line, his obsession for Raoul had become madness. Was he already preparing for an insanity plea?
The very idea was crazy, and yet how like Foster, at the same time.
Surely he didn’t think he could get away with this?
Their footsteps on the boardwalk clattered in the stillness of the night. A lone sea gull, disturbed at their intrusion, angrily squawked and took flight. Raoul was shocked when a single shot rang out. He watched as the bird plummeted to the sand a few yards from them and lay still. Raoul rounded on Foster angrily.
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“Because I could. Now shut up and keep walking. You know where.”
“We’re at the beach. What more do you want?”
Foster hooted in derision. “You know what I want. Where you and he used to go. Your special place.” He waved the gun, and for one irrational moment, Raoul hoped he might blow his own brains out, but no such luck.
Stalling for time, he leapt from the boardwalk onto the sand, heading down the beach. He heard Foster mimic his movements.
How could he know about that spot? It was private and it had been theirs alone. Or so he thought.
Something jiggled in the back of his mind, trying to force itself out into the open. He slowed his steps, trying to make sense of it, and also to keep from taking Foster to the place that had been sacred to him and Jamie. He didn’t want him there, didn’t want…
“Why are you doing this?” He planted his feet in the sand,
turned to confront Foster, who stopped as well, the gun trained on Raoul. They were near the water’s edge now. Raoul could sense the waves as they fought their way to shore, climbing up the sand.
It was around high tide now, when the pull of the moon was at its greatest, despite being on the wane. Still her presence in the sky only served to contribute to Raoul’s edginess.
“I can’t believe you don’t know. I guess you’re just not as smart as you think you are. Either one of you.”
“Either one of who?”
“Take your pick. Either one. Your taste in men has always been abysmal, you know.” Foster waved the gun around irrationally. “If only you’d seen who was right under your nose, it didn’t need to happen. I blame you for that.”
“Blame me for what?” Raoul’s dark brows drew together as he tried to make sense of Foster’s words. Blame him for what? For…
A cold chill ran up his spine.
Foster didn’t reply, looking past Raoul, at something he couldn’t see. “Well, well, the gang’s all here.” He began to smile.
*
The fresh air was a welcome relief as they exited the nightclub.
Alexx felt Paolo carefully set him onto his feet. There was no one else in sight, no line of people waiting to get in. A respite from the usual crowd.
He’d half expected Miller to be waiting here for him.
Remembering Miller in his shoulder-length blond wig, he had to smile. If he hadn’t known that was him, he wouldn’t have recognized his friend. There was no one else he trusted to play the part of the other man. It hadn’t been hard to persuade Miller, once Alexx had explained what he needed from him. He’d certainly gotten into his role.
First and last time, Mr. Fenwick.
Paolo gave him an apologetic grin. “Hope I wasn’t too rough.
Raoul said to make it look good.”
Alexx stretched his legs and reached for his unruly hair, smoothing it back into place. “You made it look good, don’t worry,” he reassured the bouncer. “Thanks for all your help.”
“No problem. I’d do anything for him. Or you.” Paolo offered his hand and Alexx took it readily. His eyes scanned the parking lot, searching for either Miller or the van. He was anxious to know what was going on inside Charisma. He hated the thought that Raoul had to let Foster get so close to him, but he realized there was no other way. He spotted a nondescript white cargo van in the midst of the other vehicles. Something told him that was the one. It didn’t stand out, there was nothing that screamed police vehicle, yet it seemed to be the logical choice.
Alexx trotted across the few rows that separated him from the van, glancing right and left. The windows were tinted, so he couldn’t see inside. He hurried to the back, after making sure there was no one in sight, and knocked firmly at the doors. They opened and he was quickly admitted. Jon and Philippe sat in folding chairs
before a small table that held surveillance equipment. The sounds of Charisma could be heard coming through the speakers. Alexx dropped to his knees on the floor, listening intently for Raoul’s familiar voice.
“Good job,” Philippe complimented him.
“Very convincing,” Jon added.
Alexx cast an anxious look at the two men, too concerned with what was happening to Raoul to appreciate their compliments.
“What did I miss? Have they gone up to his office yet?”
“No, but heading that way,” Jon muttered.
“Let me tell Raoul I’m here then” Remembering his promise, Alexx reached for the microphone that Jon held, but the next sounds he heard gave him pause, his hand frozen in mid-air.