Mistaken Trust (The Jewels Trust Series) (60 page)

“In front of everyone? When Belinda informed me you had proposed, I assumed in private. I wish you would have consulted me about proposing before you did so,” Doctor Christensen said, his tone chastising. Lowering his head and peering over the rim of his glasses, he frowned. “And I really wish you would have told me you were planning to put her in a high pressure situation in front of dozens of her friends.”

Standing tall, “Indeed I should have. And I apologize to both of you,” Howard said, eyeing Jewels then the doctor, shame in his voice.

Neither Jewels nor Doctor Christensen immediately responded.

Rising from the wingback chair purposely set directly in front of where Jewels was seated, he eyed Howard. “Give her some space.” Turning to Jewels, “Take these tonight,” he instructed, handing her an amber colored pill bottle he pulled from his pants pocket. “They’ll relax you. Might even help you to sleep.”

Reluctantly accepting the drugs, “Okay, thank you,” Jewels replied.

Eyeing Howard, “I assume you’re staying with her tonight. She shouldn’t be left alone. And if she has another fainting spell, I want you to call immediately, no matter what the time of night,” he said, handing Howard his business card. “My private cell number is on the back. You can reach me twenty-four, seven.”

“Thank you,” Howard said, accepting the card, glimpsing at the handwritten number on the back before stuffing it in his pants pocket.

“And don’t pressure her for an answer to your proposal,” Doctor Christensen emphasized as Howard walked him to the door.

“I understand.”

Before stepping out he leaned into Howard, lowered his voice, “A couple things. Has she ventured into the kitchen yet?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Given her fainting spell, you might want to discourage her from going in there until tomorrow.”

“No problem.”

“Either intentionally or unintentionally, she’s suppressing feelings ... I suspect regarding the man who was her prison guard then ended up rescuing her. I believe his name is Marshall Watters. Has she talked to you about him?”

Howard’s face deadpanned. “No. No, she hasn’t.”

Sighing and reaching for the doorknob, “Very well. Good night.” Before closing the door, he popped his head back in, grinning, “Oh, and I hope congratulations will be in order ... just not tonight,” he said with a snicker, closing the door.

Returning to Jewels, Howard parked in the wingback chair the doctor had vacated. “Belinda, would you excuse us, please?”

“Oookay,” Belinda replied, a hint of indignation in her voice as she pushed herself out of the couch. Turning to Jewels, “I’ll start cleaning up.”

“Thank you,” Jewels replied with a thin smile.

Propping his elbows on his knees, fingers splaying wide, Howard slowly tapped his fingertips together waiting for Belinda to leave the room.

Eyes smoldering in his direction, she marched out.

Leaning his body closer to her, “Julia, why haven’t you asked me why I was at the rescue sight?”

Nervously shifting her position on the couch, “I don’t know, I guess I never really thought about it.”

“Weren’t you surprised to see me? The fact I was part of the rescue team, the
MTAF
rescue team no less, should have you curious about my background. Yet, you’ve asked me nothing. Surely that reporter mind of yours has questions.”

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she stared down at the sofa cushion. Of course she was curious. And of course she had questions. Tons of questions. But she knew her inquiries would eventually lead to hurting Howard deeply and she didn’t want to do that. He didn’t deserve it.

“And I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about Marshall Watters. I was his SEAL team leader and have known him for many years.” Chuckling, “I think I’m kind of like a big brother to him.”

Remaining silent, she picked at the piping on the edge of the couch as if loosening a bit of imaginary caked-on food. Dread inched up the back of her throat. Was her obsession with Marshall Watters about to be exposed at the horrific expense of a man who had been her rock for the last two weeks?

Lowering his voice, he took up her hand in his, “Julia, is that what I am to you, too? A big brother?”

Unable to look him in the eyes, all she could do was swallow the lump in her throat. Blatantly and knowingly she had used Howard Dyson for her own designs and benefits. Busted. Party over. Time to
pay the piper
.

Releasing her hand, he collapsed his back into the chair, sighed. “You’re in love with Marshall Watters aren’t you?”

Raising her head to finally look at him, “I’m so sorry,” she said, bursting into tears and burying her face in her hands.

Slapping open palms on his thighs, he quickly stood up. “Well, I think this calls for a farewell,
Miz Andrasy
. My letter of resignation will be on your desk by morning,” he said without emotion, briskly walking toward the door.

Leaping off the couch, “Howard, wait,” Jewels called, running after him.

But he didn’t pause or look back. Just walked out, closing the door in her face.

8:47 P.M. IN THE LIVING ROOM.
Curled up on the couch, sitting side by side, Jewels had poured her heart out to Belinda, who, like the best of friends, listened and consoled her, though the issue of Marshall Watters remained a dilemma. “Maybe Doctor Christensen will have some ideas,” Belinda suggested, throwing her hands up gesturing she was at a loss.

Sighing, “You’re probably right. Tomorrow I’ll call him,” Jewels said, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back. “As for the moment, I can only imagine the mess in the kitchen, shall we clean up?”

Leery: “Uh, are you
sure
you want to go into the kitchen?”

An odd look scampered across Jewels’ face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well...,” Belinda paused, cleared her throat, “that’s where, you know,
it
started.”

“Doctor Christensen said I had to confront my memories, realize they were only memories and couldn’t hurt me, then move forward with my life,” Jewels proclaimed with certainty.

Eyeing her with skepticism, “Ooookay. If you’re
sure
.”

“I’m sure. Give me a second,” Jewels said, closing her eyes and relaxing her body. Inhaling and exhaling several long slow breaths she visualized walking into the kitchen, confronting the rush of memories Doctor Christensen warned would surely flood her mind; memories that included visions of Tank dressed head to toe in black and holding a huge knife, followed by the violent slaughter of her dear pet.
It’s only a memory. I’m safe. It’s only a memory. I’m safe. I can do this.

After a moment, she opened her eyes. “I’m ready,” Jewels said confidently. “Please let me do this myself. If I need you, Belinda, I’ll call out for you.”

TEN MINUTES LATER. Victory was hers. She had confronted the terrible memories of the kitchen and controlled her fears. The healing process
was
progressing.

As for the current state of her kitchen, it was a train wreck of party aftermath. Though Jewels had attempted to help Belinda with the clean up, she wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, jammed an icy can of Diet Coke in Jewels’ hand and pointed for her to sit at the breakfast nook. “Supervise,” she ordered.

Jewels didn’t argue. She was tired. Practically exhausted. Yet forced spurts of small talk with Belinda, who was working feverishly like a Chinese immigrant in a sweat shop. Every so often Jewels’ eyes cut to the spot on the travertine floor where Boo-Boo’s blood had spewed. Now, of course, there was no evidence such a horrific act of violence had ever occurred. If only her memory could be cleansed so easily.

During the quiet spells between the idle chit-chat, Jewels’ mind drifted. Mindlessly she picked at the pop can top while staring blankly down at it, recapping the evening. The day had been fun and enjoyable, until Howard proposed, then it nosedived into disaster. Of late, chaos and mayhem seemed to follow her wherever she went. Perhaps she attracted it. Even caused it. Guilt ridden over how the evening had gone sour with Howard, she shifted thoughts to Marshall.

Clearing her throat, “Belinda, you
did
let Marshall Watters know about the party tonight, didn’t you?”

Looking up from loading the dishwasher, “I never talked to him personally, but I left a message for him at the MTAF headquarters about a week ago and another reminder last night.”

Jewels scratched the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry, Jewels. Maybe he’s working a case and will show up in a few days, or maybe he couldn’t get a flight out of D.C. or...,” Belinda said with a shrug, continuing to stack plates in the dishwasher.

A speck of disappointment festered within her heart, like a tiny wood splinter under a fingernail. Marshall Watters knew about the shindig and hadn’t shown up. She had hoped—expected—he would.
Time out:
who are you fooling, Jewels, she thought in mental reprimand. Doctor Christensen said I needed to
be honest
with myself and honestly, there’s no
speck
of disappointment. No. I’m experiencing a
rip-your-heart-out, throw-it-on-the-ground, stomp-it-until-it’s-pulverized
kind of disappointment. Perhaps deservedly so. Had she caused Howard to feel the same way?

Just before eleven o’clock the kitchen was sparkling clean. Belinda tossed the last of the wet dish towels into the main floor washing machine, just off the kitchen. Wiping her damp hands on her butt, she turned to Jewels. “What do you want me to do with the flowers and balloons in the entry?”

“Please just leave them. They’re so festive. I’d like to enjoy them for a few days.”

Belinda nodded. “I thought I’d stay here tonight, brought my overnight bag and everything.”

Smiling, Jewels stood up. “Oh, Belinda, you’re a true friend, one heck of an amazing secretary, and the best
little sister
a gal could have. But, no thank you. I need to do this alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Are you going to be okay ... really?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jewels said with a laugh. “Besides...,” pulling out the amber bottle from her jeans pocket, “the doc gave me something to ease anxiety,” she said, waving the bottle at Belinda.

Eyebrows lifting with concern and disbelief, “Oooookay. You’re the boss,” Belinda said, a tinge of speculation in her voice as she engulfed Jewels a long friendship hug. “You call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“I will,” Jewels said, tears gathering in her eyes. Walking Belinda to the door, she thanked her again.

Jewels watched the tail-lights of Belinda’s car disappear down the driveway. Closing the door and engaging the deadbolt, she leaned her back against it, scanning her home. As far as she could tell, every light in the house was on and decided right then she would leave them
all
on
all
night.

Haunted by Tank’s promise to collect revenge on her, she pounded in the code for the house alarm. “Not gonna make the same mistake twice,” she said, watching as the little green light lit up, indicating the system was armed.

The house was silent and void of life. She was alone. And lonely. Feelings she hadn’t experienced since the night after Robert’s funeral resurfaced, like a discarded rubber tire once buried in a landfill. Worse yet, no furry friend to console her. Before, at least she had Boo-Boo. Now, no one.

Opening the pill bottle, she flattened the palm of her left hand and lightly tapped the side of the container until a tiny white pill rolled out. “Wow. That’s small, don’t even need water to swallow this,” she told herself, popping the pill in her mouth. After replacing the pill bottle cap and stuffing it back in her jeans pocket, she strolled over to the fancy bombe cabinet nestled between the stairs and swinging doors to the kitchen.

Snatching the remote for the Bose sound system from the black marble top of the entry table, she turned on the radio, B98.7.
“
The Sign,” by Ace of Base was playing.

In time with the perky beat, she added a bit of a light spring to her feet as she pushed through the swinging doors. Just then it dawned on her someone had repaired the one she had ripped off the hinge and made a mental note to find out whom to thank.

Now alone in the house for the first time since the kidnapping, she reentered the kitchen. Goosebumps sprouted on her arms as her body tensed. For a heart-pounding moment, she relived Tank ripping open Boo-Boo’s throat.

The background music faded to silence in her mind. Palms sweat. Covering her face with her hands, she wilted into one of the bar stools around the expansive island and burst into tears. Suddenly, as if someone had poked her in the butt with a straight pin, she sprang to her feet, her face a picture of terror. “My gun,” Jewels shrieked, just then realizing she was defenseless.

The police had confiscated the Glock she shot Tank with as evidence and had yet to return it.

“For goodness sake, Jewels, you have an entire safe full of guns,” she said aloud to calm herself.

Dashing out of the kitchen, she dodged the flower arrangements decoratively placed about the floor and plowed through the half dozen balloons that had lost the lift of helium. Grabbing onto the handrail, she leaped up the stairs two at a time.