1 3 7 – ZOË (8 page)

The anxious tone of his voice alarmed me. 
“What is it?”

“It’s your mother…”

I followed him into the kitchen.  The chefs and caterers were gathered around the center island and staring downward.

“Mom!” I cried, when I saw my mother lying on the floor.  “What happened?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Adams,” Juana said nervously.  “She came in asking for water and said she wasn’t feeling well.  I told her to sit down and went to get her a glass of water.  When I returned, she was on the floor…she must have collapsed.”

“The
ambulance should be here shortly,” Michael assured.

“Can’t we fly
her to the hospital?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“The ambulance is already on its way,
” he said.

I fought my rising panic as I took her pulse.  I
was sickened to discover that her heart was barely beating and she was getting colder by the minute.  “Mom!  Can you hear me?”

Michael knelt beside my mother
and began to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but she was not responding.  Maddy and Lance entered the kitchen, along with several other guests.

“Oh my God, what happened to mom?
!” Maddy demanded.

Lance attempted to ca
lm my sister as she began to cry.

I shook my head. 
“I don’t know, Maddy...Juana said she just collapsed.”

“The paramedics are here!” someone in the crowd shouted.

I was suddenly pushed aside so two uniformed paramedics could work on my mother.  For twenty minutes they tried to revive her, but it was no use.  They pronounced her death.

“I’m s
orry,” one of them said.  “It was already too late.” 

“I don’t under
stand,” I heard myself say.  My voice was coming from somewhere far off.  “She was fine at the spa today…laughing….martinis…”

The paramedic looked at Michael and said softly, “Massive heart attack
, Mr. Adams.  We can remove the body out the back door.”

“Massive heart attack?” I repeated, confused.

“Please,” Michael said in a hushed tone.  “Make as little fuss as possible.”

Lance and Michael locked eyes and a strange look passed between
the two of them.  I turned towards my sister and embraced her as we cried together.  What began as a fairy tale evening had ended as a nightmare.

***

The funeral took place two days later.  My sister and I held hands as our mother’s body was cremated.  Refreshments were served at the house afterward.  Maddy and I drowned ourselves in martinis in honor of our mother.  Lance approached to offer his condolences and I clung to him tightly as I gave in to tears.

“I realize
there’s nothing I can say to ease the pain of losing a parent.  I know this because I’ve already lost both of mine,” he said.

“I miss her so much,” I
cried.

He kissed the top of my head. 
“I know.  Just remember the wonderful times you shared together and the laughs you enjoyed.  That’s how you’ll keep her alive in your heart.”

Maddy approached and Lance gathered her into his arms.  We cried together while Michael watched us from across the room. 

Chapter Seven

New Year’s Ev
e was spent quietly at home.  Maddy and I comforted each other in the weeks that followed.  I was especially grateful for her presence during this difficult period of mourning.  I recalled Lance’s advice and focused on the good memories.  There was only one thing that bothered me:
my mother did not have a heart condition
.  In fact, she was in good health.  When I first mentioned this to Michael, he replied that modern science had not yet come up with a way to prevent such sudden, fatal attacks.  I tried to comfort myself with the fact that my mother had lived a long and full life, but deep down inside something didn’t feel right.

By mid
February, Michael received an unexpected guest.  I was returning home from a run in the park when I noticed a flashy red Porsche pull up directly behind me as I passed through the security gates.  This alarmed me since visitors had to stop at the intercom and announce themselves.  The red Porsche was tailing my Mercedes so closely that I could neither back up nor turn around.  My only choice was to go forward, so I accelerated down the drive in the hope that I could make it to the house before the Porsche did.  My goal was to run inside and set off the main alarm system. 

I was unlocking the front door with shaking hands when a
man wearing an expensive designer suit and sun glasses came out of the Porsche and gave me a dazzling smile.  He seemed relaxed, as if what he did was normal.  I, on the other hand, was terrified.  I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen him somewhere before.

“Y
ou are Zoë Adams,” he said in a rich, exotic accent that was an unmistakable mix of British and Arabic. 

I
stopped fumbling with the keys and faced him.  I suddenly realized that it was the same mysterious, dark-eyed man who had attended the Christmas party.  He reminded me of an old painting I’d once seen in a history book; a handsome sheik in sumptuous robes amidst a harem full of pretty women.  As he stood there staring at me, I began to feel apprehensive.

“May I help you?” I
asked, trying to sound authoritative.  For some reason, I didn’t like this man (despite his good looks and incredible fashion sense).

“Forgive me, Mrs. Adams, I didn’t mean to frighten you
.  I just thought I’d save us both the time of having to go through the whole security thing again.”

“Again?”

He walked towards me slowly and confidently, stopping a couple of feet from where I stood.  An image of a black panther stalking its prey popped into my head and I frowned slightly.  His designer fragrance had been applied with a heavy hand and permeated the air around us. 

“Yes,
” he said.  “I have already provided my information and my vehicle license plate on the night of your wonderful Christmas party.”  He paused.  “I saw you, but I did not have the pleasure of meeting you that night.”

I didn’t know w
hat to say.  I felt my cheeks burn under his gaze.

After a moment, he said, “I don’t mean to be rude
, Mrs. Adams.  Where are my manners?  Forgive me for staring.  It’s not every day that one comes face to face with a cryo-person.  My name is Joseph Greeling and I am here to see your husband.  I have come all the way from London to negotiate a business deal with him.”

I knew better than to ask what kind of business deal. 
“Oh, yes, of course. I’ve heard Michael mention your name once or twice,” I said with a little nervous laugh as I extended my hand.  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Greeling.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before politely shaking my
hand.  “The pleasure is mine,” he assured, his full lips curving into a smile.

“W
on’t you come in?” I asked, retrieving my hand.  “I believe Michael is in his office- he’s usually in there working whenever he’s home.”

He took a step closer. 
“Just a moment, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Adams.”

“Yes?”

“Please, if I may ask-”

“How does it feel to come back after b
eing dead for twenty years?” I said, cutting him off.  He looked embarrassed before nodding his head and murmuring an apology.  “No need to apologize, Mr. Greeling.  I get asked that question often.  It feels strange, very strange…as if life has passed you by and you can never catch up with it no matter how hard you try.”

He
nodded quietly, pensively.  “If I may say, Mrs. Adams, I think you are incredible.  Your interview article in Time magazine impressed me very much, and I feel honored to be here speaking with you today.”

“I appreciate that
, Mr. Greeling.”

The
front door suddenly opened and Michael stepped outside with a smile.  It vanished from his face immediately when he saw Joseph Greeling.  Both men stared at each other in silence for several seconds.  There was palpable tension in the air.

“I’ve been expecting you
,” Michael said at last before tossing a nervous glance in my direction.

“I snuck in behind your wife’s car when she went through the gates.  I didn’t think you’d mind if I bypassed security,”
Greeling said amiably.

Michael’s mouth became a hard,
grim line.  I took it as my cue to leave.

“I’ll leave you two gentlemen to your business,” I said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
  “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Greeling.”

Greeling grinned like the Cheshire
Cat.  “I assure you, the pleasure was
all
mine, Mrs. Adams.”

I turned to Micha
el.  “I’ll be in my studio.”

Without waiting for him to reply,
I walked quickly into the house and ducked into the kitchen.  Hiding behind the massive refrigerator, I held my breath and stood perfectly still.  I wanted Michael to believe that I had gone straight to my studio.  As he led Mr. Greeling through the living room and into his office, I heard him say, ‘
I told you never to come to my house again.
’

Silently, I tiptoed
into my studio and didn’t come out until I heard the front door close twenty minutes later.  The Porsche was gone, which meant Greeling had left the house.  I ventured into Michael’s office and found him pouring over a tablet.

“Michael?”

He looked up with a startled expression and immediately closed the page he was reading.  “Zoë, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m
sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He seemed irritated. 
“What is it?”

“Nothing…
I just wanted to know if you felt like going out for dinner tonight.  I was thinking about giving Juana and Maria the night off.”

He let out a long breath and shook his head.  “Not tonight, p
rincess.  I have way too much work to do.  Why don’t you call your sister?”

I had obviously
interrupted something important.  “You look troubled.  I hope everything is okay,” I said, hoping to bait him into telling me what was going on.

“Everything is fin
e, princess.”

For
some reason, I knew he wasn’t telling me the truth.  “I’ll leave you to your work, then.  Sorry for bothering you.”

“No problem
.  We’ll do dinner another night.  I promise,” he said with a forced smile.

I nodded and walked out, clo
sing the door behind me.  I barely made it to the end of the corridor when I heard the door lock click from inside.

Later that night, I woke up with a start.  I felt several
hands beneath me.  As the hands lifted me from my bed, I gazed out the window.  The moon was bleeding and I began to cry.  The hands carried me down the dark hallway and up the steps that led to the attic.  I wanted to scream but I could not.  I saw the trunk glowing under the moonlight that poured from the window.  The lid lifted of its own accord with a loud sigh. I tried to free myself and the hands tightened their grips.  I was powerless as they carried me forward against my will.  When I was directly in front of the trunk, I looked inside and saw nothing but blackness.  The hands suddenly lifted me up and tossed me into the trunk.  The lid closed with a sickening thud, locking me inside.  I screamed as loudly as I could.

“Zoë!  Are you all right?” 

I was drenched in sweat and felt nauseous.  I heard the tap being turned on in the bathroom.  Michael came to the bedside and held out a glass of water.  I took the glass with shaking hands, bringing the rim to my lips.

“Bad dream?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing an errant strand of hair behind my ear.  I nodded.  He kissed my forehead.  “
I could hear you from inside my office.”

“Sorry.”

“Do you want me to stay with you for a little bit?”

I
shook my head.  “I’m fine, really.”

“Want some tea?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay, princess. 
I have to finish up a few things.  Goodnight.”

He left and closed the door.  I reached for my dream journal and pen, and began to write down the details of the bizarre dream.  I couldn’t sleep for many hours afterward.

***

Two days later, Michael announced
that he had to go away on business.  We were having breakfast and I could hear birds singing outside.

“For how long?” I
asked while pouring out a cup of coffee.

He buttered his toast. 
“A few nights.”

“Can I go?”

He looked at me the way a father looks at a child before declining a request.  “I wish I could take you with me, princess, but I can’t.”

“Are you at least going to tell me where
you’re going?  Or is that a secret, too?”

“London.”

“Does this have to do with Mr. Greeling’s visit yesterday?”

“Yes and no,” he replied cryptically.  I was about to ask another question, but he held up
his hand to silence me.  “Zoë, please.  You know the nature of business and politics.  I can’t always divulge my affairs and this is one of those times.” 

“Okay,” I said, defeated.  “When are you leaving?”

“Today.”

Michael left after finishing his coffee, but not before kissing me in the doorway
and promising to take me out for a ‘nice dinner’ when he returned from his trip.