A Dangerous Widow (A Dangerous Series) (12 page)

“To a point, I can.
 
But I’ll say it again—there are
other ways.”

“None as swift as this.”

In frustration, he stepped away from me and
ran his fingers through his hair.
 
“If I say no to this, you’re just going to go ahead with it on your own,
aren’t you?”

“I’ll have no choice.
 
We’ll part ways.
 
I’ll go to the party, and when people
ask me what I’ve been doing, I’ll tell them what I want them to hear.”

“And tomorrow morning, you’ll hire some
random new P.I. and a security team you know nothing about but who you hope and
pray will be able to protect you?”

“I will.”

“Even though you don’t even know what to
look for when it comes to hiring either?”

“I know people in this town who can lead me
to the best, Ben.”

His face became troubled when he said, “Why
are you doing this?
 
You know that I
can’t lose you when I’ve only just found you again.”

And there it was—and I knew where he
was coming from because I felt it myself.
 
Once you’ve loved someone, as he and I had once loved each other, that
love lived on even if it took another shape.

“Will you help me?”

“If I’m going to keep you safe, what choice
do I have?”

“If we manipulate the situation, we have a
better chance of winning this—assuming there’s anything to this.”

“I see the possibilities, Kate.
 
I get it.
 
But there’s also a massive
downside—losing you.
 
And that
scares the hell out of me.”

When he said that, I spontaneously stood on tiptoe
and kissed him.

“Don’t you see?” I said.
 
“Don’t you realize that if things had
turned out differently between us, and if we’d been married, and I’d lost you
like I lost Michael, that I’d be standing here right now doing the same thing
for you?”

“I know that you would be—you’ve
always been fearless.
 
But at what
cost?”

“Perhaps the ultimate one, because that’s
how much I loved him.”
 
I shrugged
at him.
 
“Somehow, this was meant to
be, Ben.
 
First the psychic.
 
Then you coming back into my life as a
private investigator, of all professions.
 
For whatever reason, the stars have aligned.”

“But what if they crash?”

I didn’t answer that, because I did
understand the risks of what I was proposing.
 
But I had to take them.
 
I had to do that for Michael.
 
If this was true, I needed to give him
his justice.
 
I checked my watch,
saw that we were late, and turned around to grab my clutch.
 
“We should go.”

“If we’re going to do this, I’m going to ask
one thing of you.”

“Just one?”

“For the moment.”

“What’s that?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, I want to meet that
psychic.”

“Why?
 
You scoffed at her.”

“Initially, I did.
 
But you’re not the only one who has been
giving this some thought.
 
Police have
used reliable mediums many times to solve cold cases such as this.
 
Am I skeptical?
 
Absolutely.
 
But that doesn’t mean that my mind isn’t
open to the idea that this woman might be legit and that she could be of
help.
 
So, I want to meet her.
 
Assess her.
 
Will you take me to her?”

“I can make that happen.
 
But be prepared to be as spooked as I
was, because she was that good.
 
And
when you ask her your difficult questions, she’s going to make you question
everything you think you know.”

“Are you certain about tonight?” he said.

“I am.”

“I have a security team I work with.
 
They’re excellent.
 
I’ll have them in place by morning.
 
And then I guess we’ll strategize from
there.
 
But I want this on the
record, Kate—I don’t like it.
 
I think it’s too dangerous.
 
But I fear that if I leave you to your own devices that I’ll only regret
it later.
 
And that’s the only
reason I’m agreeing to go forward with this.
 
Understood?”

“I understand,” I said.

And we were off.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Witherhouse’s mansion was just off Fifth
on Sixty-Seventh Street.
 
I knew
from previous conversations with Maxine that it was built in 1899 in the French
Renaissance style—complete with a host of gargoyles screaming into the
night along the rooftop—for Ian Fletcher, a successful banker and railroad
investor.
 

Since a cab was out of the question when it
came to this sort of event, I’d enlisted my driver, David, for the
evening.
 
As our limousine rolled to
a stop in front of the massive house, I had to admit that the Witherhouse’s
home was nothing short of imposing and magnificent.
 
It was one of Manhattan’s few remaining
mansions, and I knew that as long as the Witherhouses owned it, it wouldn’t be
torn down to allow for new development.

“Holy shit,” Ben said when he saw it.

“I know—right?
 
It’s amazing.”

“This has nothing to do with where we come
from,” he said.

“To say the least, but at least we can
appreciate it.
 
I know you love
architecture—or at least you used to.”

“Still do.”

“Then this should be a treat for you.
 
Because the Witherhouses have the means
to keep this sort of place in top form.”

“There are reporters on the sidewalk,” he
said.
 
“Or at least
photographers.
 
Take my hand.
 
You might have changed the evening’s
dynamics, but if any of this is going to work, we still need to behave as if
we’re a couple.”

“So, we’re good here?
 
We go forward with the rest of the night
as I’ve outlined it?”

“Tonight, you win.
 
But because of what you’re about to
ignite, you have to agree to listen to me and my security team going
forward.
 
Your idea might work.
 
But it’s going to be hell trying to keep
you safe.”

“Done,” I said.

“You said that way too quickly for my
tastes.”

“Once I set the spark, I will do whatever
you and your security team ask of me.
 
That’s a promise.”

He reached for my hand, and when I took it
in my own, it seemed somehow larger to me than it had when we were in high
school.
 
His grip was stronger.
 
And perhaps because he was older and
likely due to his time in the Navy, his palm was rougher than I remembered.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“I should be asking you that, because when
you and I step out of the car, it’s going to be a full-on onslaught.
 
I’ve experienced that before, though I’m
not sure whether you have.
 
So, if
you haven’t, gird your loins, because this is going to be intense.”

As David opened Ben’s door, which was
closest to the sidewalk, Ben squeezed my hand and said, “I can handle
intense.
 
I’m just not so sure about
you.”

“Hilarious.”

He squeezed my hand when I said that, and
then he nodded at me.
 
“All right,
Kate.
 
If we’re going to win this,
let’s win.”

*
 
*
 
*

After I stepped out of the limousine with
Ben at my side, it took the reporters a moment to register that it was me
before they launched themselves into a frenzy—just as I knew they
would.
 

The men and women behind their cameras knew
their beat—and the majority knew that I hadn’t been out to a social event
like this since Michael’s death.

“Kate!” I heard people call out.

While I smiled for the crowd, I said in a
hushed voice to Ben, “We need to let them photograph us.
 
Otherwise, they’ll be furious with me at
the very moment that we need them most.
 
Stand over here with me.
 
Put
your arm around my waist.
 
Kiss me
on the cheek if you want.
 
Just make
it look real.”

“Kate, it’s so good to see you!” I heard one
photographer call out.

The rapid flashes of light were so blinding,
I couldn’t see who said it, but I knew it likely was someone who had
photographed me in the past while I was still with Michael.
 
So I turned in their general direction
and thanked them.

“It’s good to be back,” I said.

“Kate, can you turn this way?”

Ben and I turned to our left.

“Who are you with?”

“Ben Cade.
 
We’ve been seeing each other for several
months now.”

“You’re seeing someone?”

“Kate, you have a boyfriend?”

“Holy shit, she has a boyfriend.”

‘I do,” I said.
 
“And after five years, I think that
Michael would approve.”

“Congratulations, Kate!
 
We all know that Michael would have
wanted you to be happy!”

“Thank you,” I said amidst the staccato
rhythms of light.
 
I looked up at
Ben.
 
“And by the way,
everyone—isn’t he handsome?”

The moment I said that, Ben swept me into
his arms and kissed me full on the lips, an act that apparently was enough to warrant
lighting us up as if a thousand suns had settled down upon us.
 

His lips lingered upon mine for a beat too
long before we finally broke away from each other.
 
While I was surprised that he’d gone
there—I’d asked for a kiss on the cheek, for God’s sake—I’d be
lying if I said that I hadn’t felt something again when he kissed me, because
his kiss had changed from the kiss I remembered.
 
It was far more passionate than it had
been before we’d gone our separate ways.

“It’s good to see all of you again,” I
called out before we left for the party.
 
“It’s good to be back!”

“Kate, your dress is to die for.
 
Who are you wearing?”

“Valentino.
 
He’s a magician!”

“Ben, would you mind stepping aside so we
can have a few solo shots of Kate?”

“Of course not,” he said.
  

After giving a final wave, I reached for
Ben’s hand, said that I’d missed them all, and then, with an odd sense that
these strangers genuinely felt happy for me, entered the Witherhouses’ mansion
with Ben.

*
 
*
 
*

“Well, you were right,” Ben said when we
stepped inside the crowded foyer.
 
“That was intense.”

The press or that kiss?

“It takes a while, but somehow you get used
to it.”

“You handled it like a pro.”

“I’m rusty when it comes to this, so let’s
just say that I did my best.
 
The
trick is finding a way to let yourself go and just being who you are, because
if you don’t do that, the cameras will pick up on it and you’ll look like a
fraud.
 
When it comes to the press,
it’s a balance.
 
If you give them
enough time to photograph you and ask you questions, you’ll remain in their
good graces.
 
But if you
don’t—they can and will ruin you.
 
We accomplished the former tonight—especially when you kissed
me.
 
And by the way, where did
that
come from?”

“You told me to make it look real.”

And it had felt real…

“I told you to kiss me on the cheek.”

“I decided that it would be better to go for
the lips.
 
You know, to use your
words, ‘to sell it.’”

“Well, mission accomplished, I guess.”

“Did I go too far?”

“No, because you did give them what they
wanted.”

“That’s not really what I was asking.”

“But there’s your answer.”

Because when you kissed me, Ben, it was as
if the years had melted away and we were together again, which is something I
certainly don’t want to analyze now.
 

Instead, I put my mind elsewhere and looked
around the lavish space, which seemed like it was designed to put to rest any
doubts that Maxine and Bill Witherhouse were indeed New York royalty.
 

The foyer alone was a showcase for important
pieces of art hanging upon the walls, intricately carved mahogany woodwork that
few master craftsmen could duplicate today, and above us, what appeared to me
to be a huge, original René Lalique chandelier that glimmered and glittered
right along with the crowd milling beneath it.
 
Like the rest of this house, the foyer
beckoned back to a time in our country when the wealth in this city was so
great, it could create the sort of space we were in now.
 
To the Witherhouses’ credit, they’d kept
their home untouched and upheld a high standard.
 
The attention to detail was stunning.

“Have you been here before?” Ben asked.

“Yes—but that was years ago.
 
Michael and I came here a few
times.
 
Isn’t it amazing?”

“To say the least.”

“Wait until you see the ballroom, which is
just through there,” I said, pointing to my right.
 
“It’s incredible.
 
Maxine and Bill live on the other four
floors and the roof deck with views of the Park.
 
Don’t ask me why they need four floors
to live—maybe it’s just so they can get away from each another, since at
one point they were on the verge of divorce.
 
Anyway, we might be a little late, but
with so many people still arriving behind us, Bill and Maxine will be just
inside the ballroom to greet us.
 
You need to know that.”

“And be ready for it,” he said.
 
“And I guess be ready for whatever you
have up your sleeve, too.”

“You already know what I have up my sleeve,”
I said.
 
“So let’s do this.”

*
 
*
 
*

“Kate!” Maxine called out when we approached
her.
 
“You came!”

It had been years since I’d set eyes on
Maxine Witherhouse, but the last time I had, she sure as hell hadn’t looked
anything like this.
 
At some point, she
must have had her skin pulled straight up from her toes to make her look as
vibrant and as youthful as she did now.
 
She was a slight blonde in her mid-sixties, but she now looked as if she
hadn’t even reached fifty.
 

When I approached her, we exchanged air
kisses and then held each other’s hands as we assessed each other.
 
Maxine had chosen to wear two
things—a form-fitting black evening gown and diamonds.
 
Too many diamonds.
 
They were at her throat, wrists, fingers,
and ears.
 
The philanthropist in me
wanted to rip them off of her, sell them, and put that money toward ending
world hunger.
 

“Thank you for having us on such short
notice, Maxine.
 
It’s good to see
you.”

“I still can’t believe that you chose our
party as your first social event since Michael’s death,” she said just loudly
enough so that people turned to look at us.
 
“We’re honored to have you, Kate.
 
You have no idea.”

“It’s good to be out again.”

“I can only imagine.”
 
She turned to the tall,
distinguished-looking man at her right.
 
“Bill, look who’s here—it’s Kate!”

When Bill looked at me, I met his eyes with
my own.

Did you kill Michael?
I wondered as I shook his hand.
 
Did you kill Lydia?

“It’s great to see you again, Kate,” he
said.
 

Is it, Bill?
 
I have to wonder…

“And I have to say, that in that dress, you
might just steal the night.”

“That’s some compliment,” I said to
him.
 
“But as Maxine and I know,
it’s all about the dress, isn’t it, Maxine?”

“And the hair and the makeup and the
jewels,” Maxine said.
 
“Keeping it
new and fresh is an exhausting chore, isn’t it?
 
Though it can be a fun one when it all
comes together, don’t you think?”