Manolos in Manhattan (28 page)

“Need a hand?” he asked a few minutes later as he joined her and consulted her tickets. “You’ve got two steak, one medium, one rare, and three grilled halibut left to go.”

“I wouldn’t say no. Thanks.”

He reached for the steaks and threw them on the hot grill.

As the steaks sizzled, he glanced over at Catherine, and he couldn’t help but think that perhaps a bit of time and some space apart was just what he and Holly needed.

“Oh, shit, Dev – I’m scared. I can’t do this!”

Christa, dressed in her feathers-and-glitter costume for the opening sequence, cast huge, frightened eyes up to his. The show would start in five minutes, and her knees were trembling so badly she could barely stand.

“You’ll be fine, babes,” Devon assured her, and pulled her tightly against him, careful not to dislodge the feathers or muss her makeup. “You can do this. You’ve done it dozens of times before.”

“Not in such a huge place!” she wailed. “I don’t remember a single bit of the choreography, or one word of any of my songs. It’s all gone. Gone!”

“It’s nerves, Christa, that’s all. Remember, I love you, and I’ll be up in the VIP box with Max, rooting for you.”

“Time, everyone,” the stage manager said as he thrust his head inside the tiny backstage dressing room. “Five minutes. Let’s go.”

And feeling like a prisoner making the final walk to Death Row, Christa squeezed Devon’s hand one last time and followed her escort out the door, and away through the labyrinth of corridors that led to the stage.

Chapter Forty-Eight

“Ooh, isn’t this exciting?” Natalie exclaimed as she clutched at Dominic’s arm. They sat overlooking the stage in the VIP box along with Dom and Christa’s manager, Max, and her boyfriend, Devon.

Dominic, busy texting on his mobile phone, glanced up at her briefly. “Yeah. Very exciting.” He returned to his texting.

Natalie smiled over at Devon. “You must be so proud. Christa’s amazing – I’m a huge fan.”

“I am,” he agreed, and smiled back. “She’s pretty nervous, though. This is the biggest venue she’s ever played.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Nat assured him. She studied him for a moment. “You know, you look familiar, but I can’t think why. Are you on the TV?”

He laughed. “God, no. I’m a detective sergeant with the CID.”

Before Natalie could ask him any further questions, the house lights dimmed, and a roar went up from the crowd below.

The concert was about to begin.

“I hate to ask,” Natalie whispered an hour later as she leaned over and touched Dominic’s arm, “but I need some air.”

He glanced at her and frowned. “You
do
look a bit pale. Are you okay?” Panic set in. “Should I call a doctor? You’re not having the baby, are you?”

She managed a smile. “No. I just feel a little claustrophobic. Would you mind taking me out of here for a bit?”

“‘Course not.” He stood, pocketing his mobile phone, and helped her to her feet. “Can’t go far, though,” he warned as he took her arm, “or I might be recognized. Then I’ll spend the rest of the night signing programs and bits of paper and fending off women.”

Natalie lifted her brow. “Such a hard life you lead.”

Luckily there weren’t many people about; Christa, who at that moment soared over the crowd on an invisible pulley, wearing a glittery costume as she sang her biggest hit, “Promise Me Stars,” had everyone’s attention riveted.

Natalie took in a few deep breaths as Dominic turned away to call Gemma, and immediately felt better. She only wished Rhys was here. She missed him with an ache that was almost visceral.

I hope he can get everything at the store sorted
, she thought, and sighed. Poor man...it was always one problem after another where Dashwood and James was concerned.

She looked up then, sensing someone’s eyes on her, and let out a gasp.

Ian Clarkson stood just yards away. He looked just as she remembered, darkly handsome, impeccably turned out, but emanating an almost palpable menace. He met her frightened gaze, and his lips unfurled in a slow, mocking smile.

Then he winked at her.

Natalie blanched. There could be no question this time, no possibility that she was mistaken. Ian wasn’t in England, he wasn’t in Broadmoor...he was standing right here in front of her.

Dominic finished his call and turned back around. Seeing Natalie’s expression, he rushed forward. “Nat! What is it? You’re as white as – as a line of pure cocaine! Oh, shit – are you all right?”

Deeply shaken, unable to speak, she pointed over his shoulder with a trembling finger. “Ian,” she managed to whisper.

But when Dominic whirled around to look, Ian Clarkson was gone.

It was well past midnight when Dominic’s limo came to a stop in front of the Dunleigh.

“I’m coming up with you,” Dom said, and reached for the door handle with a determined expression.

“No.” Natalie shook her head. “I’ll be fine, honestly. Ian can’t possibly get in our building; it’s very secure. That’s one of the reasons why Grandfather chose it.”

“I don’t care. Ian’s clever, and he’ll find a way. Just like he found a way to wait outside our box tonight.”

“I can’t believe he’s here in Manhattan.” A frisson of fear traced itself up her spine. “But at least we weren’t followed home.”

“That we
know
of,” Dominic said darkly. “Even so – I’m walking you up to the door. I don’t trust Clarkson. Besides which,” he added as he opened his door, “I don’t fancy being beaten to a pulp by your husband if something should happen to you on my watch.”

Natalie hesitated. “It’s really not necessary...”

“It is,” he said firmly. “Come on, let’s go.”

At the top of the steps, Nat leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Dom. I mean it. The concert was brilliant.”

“Too bad it had to end the way it did,” he muttered. “Did he say anything? Did he threaten you?”

“No, he only smiled, and then he…” She shuddered. “He winked at me.”

“What the hell is he even
doing
here?” Dominic demanded angrily. “That’s what I’d like to know. I thought he was locked away in Broadmoor for the rest of his fucking life!”

“Evidently he was released. Or else...” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Or else he escaped.”

“I’ll stand by the doors until you’re in the lift,” Dominic said. “You’ve got your mobile. Call me if you even
think
you see him again, okay?”

She promised. “Goodnight, Dom. And thanks again – for everything.”

It was late as Catherine inserted the key in the lock to her apartment and eased the door open.

The TV was on, at a low volume, and the babysitter was slumped in one corner of the sofa, mouth open, sound asleep.

She turned to Jamie. “I’ll pay the sitter and make you that Amaretto Sour I promised.”

He nodded. “I’ll go and check on Iz.”

Catherine was just closing the door after the sitter when Jamie returned.

“Izzy’s down for the count,” he informed her. “She was even snoring. Wait until I tell her
that
.”

She laughed. “If I know Iz, she’ll deny it. Thanks for the ride home. I usually take a taxi, but my finances didn’t stretch that far tonight. Have a seat and I’ll make you that drink.”

“Thanks. I could do with one after tonight’s service.”

Five minutes later, Catherine returned with their drinks. She kicked off her clogs and sat next to him on the sofa, tucking her feet under her. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that all evening.”

“What? Sit next to me?” Jamie joked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Gordon.” She took a sip of her drink. “No, I meant taking my shoes off. All that standing...” she shrugged. “I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”

Jamie snorted. “What are you, twenty-six?”

“Try thirty-two. I can’t imagine how I’ll do this at forty-five, or fifty-six...” Her voice trailed away. “I see orthopedic shoes in my future.”

“I’m sure you’ll be married long before then.”

She lifted her brow. “Oh you’re sure about that, are you? I haven’t found anyone permanent yet. I’m too picky. At least, that’s what my mother always tells me.”

“Maybe she’s right.”

She sighed. “Maybe she is. But it’s not just that. I have Izzy to think about now.”

“She’s a great kid.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Catherine set her glass aside. “My sister…” Her eyes swam, and her throat thickened. “My sister’s had another setback. She’s not responding to the chemo. Every time my phone rings, I’m afraid it’s the hospital, calling to tell me…” She broke off. “How will I cope if ‒
when
‒ Leigh dies? How will Izzy cope?”

She began to cry; hopeless, wracking sobs. Wordlessly, Jamie drew her against him. “It’s okay to be scared, Cath. It’s okay if you feel a little overwhelmed sometimes. Hell, in your position? Anyone would. But I know this ‒ you and Izzy? You’ll be okay. You’re great with her. She loves you.”

Catherine moved away and shook her head. “No, she loves
you
.” She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “You’re all she talks about. ‘When can we go on another picnic with Jamie?’ ‘When can I throw a ball with Jamie again?’ ‘Do you think Jamie could come over and visit?’”

“What about tomorrow?” he said, and leaned forward. “It’s Sunday, we’re both off.”

“Oh, Jamie, she’d absolutely
love
that.”

He studied her, his expression intent. “What about you?” he asked softly. “Would
you
like to spend the day with me?”

Her dark eyes met his. “I would,” she murmured, “I really would,” and she slid, unresisting, into his waiting arms.

Chapter Forty-Nine

As quietly as possible, Natalie laid her purse and keys down on the hall table and slipped her shoes off. She didn’t want to wake Rhys; he’d probably only just gone to bed after dealing with the sprinkler malfunction at the store all afternoon and evening.

“Natalie! You’re home.”

Startled, she looked up to see Rhys standing in the kitchen doorway, a mug of tea in hand. “Yes, Dom just brought me back. I thought you’d be asleep.”

“No, I waited up. I just got home half an hour ago.” Rhys frowned. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to say nothing was wrong, everything was fine, but the concern on his face, coupled with her own fear, led to her blurting out, “Oh, God, Rhys, it was awful. Unbelievable. I saw Ian at the concert tonight.”

He stared at her. “
What
? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine, just a bit...unsettled.”

“Come and sit down, and tell me exactly what happened.” He took her arm and led her into the living room.

Briefly, her voice trembling as she sank down on the sofa, Natalie recounted her shock on seeing Ian Clarkson in the hallway, and how he’d had the audacity to smile at her.

“Where the
fuck
was Dominic?” Rhys demanded, furious. “I asked him specifically to keep his bloody eye on you!”

“That’s just it – Dom
was
there, Rhys! He was on the phone to Gemma, and in the minute or two he had his back turned, Ian appeared behind him and...and smiled at me!”

She began to cry. Rhys pulled her up from the sofa and took her into his arms. “God, I’m so sorry, Nat. This is all my fault!”

Sniffling, Natalie looked at him in surprise. “
Your
fault? What do you mean? How can any of this be your fault?”

“I knew Ian was here,” he admitted, and drew back. “I knew he was in Manhattan.”

“What? How could you possibly have known that? And why on earth didn’t you
tell
me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. I didn’t want to frighten you unnecessarily.” He told her about the delivery envelope, and the note from Ian inside. He added, “I hired a detective straightaway to follow you, to watch you when I couldn’t. He’s CID. He was with you at the concert, as a matter of fact. Or he should have been.”

Natalie blinked in astonishment. “You’ve had someone
following
me?” She thought of the man in the polo shirt and sunglasses, the man she’d first noticed the morning she and Holly went shopping.

“Devon,” she exclaimed, and stared at Rhys. “Christa’s boyfriend. No wonder he looked so familiar. He sat in the box with us tonight.
He’s
the man who’s been following me?”

“Yes. He promised to keep a close eye on you tonight. But Ian still found a way to get to you,” Rhys bit off, “the clever bastard.”

“It’s all right,” she reassured him, and rested her hand against his chest in reassurance. “Nothing happened. You know Ian – he likes playing these stupid games.”

“But something
could’ve
happened, Natalie. Despite a professional detective following you, and Dominic standing right there...Ian
still
found a way to frighten you. And that’s what worries the fuck out of me.” He began to pace the room. “How did he even
know
you’d be at that concert?”

“You said it yourself,” Natalie said. “He’s clever. Somehow, he always finds a way—”

With a gasp, she broke off. “Oh my God! Rhys, look, my father’s painting…it’s gone!”

He turned and followed her pointing finger to the wall above the fireplace. There was an empty space where the portrait had hung.

Natalie turned wide, frightened eyes to him. “Rhys – we’ve been robbed. Someone’s stolen my father’s painting.”

He stared up at the empty wall. “Whoever did it must’ve known we’d be out tonight.”

“Do you think it was Ian? Do you think he’s behind it?”

Rhys shook his head. “No. He was at Madison Square Garden tonight, you saw him.”

“Perhaps he wanted me to see him – so he’d have an alibi,” Nat exclaimed. “I’m sure he’s connected somehow.”

“It’s possible. Although I don’t see how he could have known the painting was here in the apartment, not hanging in Sir Richard’s office in London. And I don’t know why he’d want it.”

“Money, of course. He’s not married to Alexa any longer, she had all of the money; and I’m sure he can’t get a decent job anywhere, not with Broadmoor on his record.”

“He had money enough to come to New York,” Rhys pointed out. “So someone’s financing him.” He frowned. “Of course...there’s another possibility.”