Only Trick (49 page)

I glance up and grin because he’s still looking down at his phone as if he’s waiting for his “friend” to respond.

Me:
BFF, hope your wife knows she hit the jackpot with you.

Trick:
Breakfast for dinner?

I look up and smile at him still looking at his phone. “I love the hell out of you.”

Lip twitch
.

Trick:
I know you do.

He glances up and I giggle while shaking my head. With the sexiest gait ever, he makes his way over to me and kisses me like he hasn’t done it a million times before, and in turn my body reacts like it’s the first time. Leaving me breathless and dizzy, he kisses the tip of my nose.

“I’ll start the eggs and dibs on the jelly spoon.” He smirks.

I roll my eyes. “Hand me my jeans.”

He swipes them off the floor and tosses them at me.

“Thanks.” I step into them.

“What’s this?” He bends down where my jeans had been. “Where did you get this?” He holds up my mother’s necklace, staring at the dangling pendant.

“It was my mother’s.” I take it from him and slip it in my purse. “My father gave it to her on their wedding day. Tamsen found it in one of his drawers today.” I pull on my shirt. “It was the only thing I took. I have a feeling New York is going to be a wasted trip. I can’t imagine finding anything there when he spent most of his time here, but I suppose I should go, just in case I’m wrong.”

F
uck!

The necklace. I remember it … I remember
everything.

T
amsen ends up
coming down to eat Trick’s dinner, although she skips the jelly and has her eggs on the side, totally proving my point that Trick and I are breakfast soul mates. However, we’re not tonight. Something came on fast because one minute he’s texting me with a smirk on his face and the next he’s huddled in fetal position on the bed and has been for the past two hours.

I shower and try to get him to let me check him over, but he doesn’t want to be touched or moved, so I cover him up with the blanket and eventually fall asleep next to him after my worry settles. By morning, he’s in the same position.

“Hey, sweetie. Our flight leaves in three hours, but I can cancel.” I sit on the edge of the bed, pressing my palm to his cheek.

He drags open his eyes and stares off with a glassy, blank look. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

A slow nod.

I kiss his forehead. “Okay, but here’s your phone.” I set it on the nightstand.” I’ll check on you before we take off. Make sure to keep hydrated.”

“Feel better, okay?” Tamsen tries to put herself in his line of vision, but it’s as if he’s looking right through her.

“Love you.” I look back at him as we head toward the elevator.

Nothing.

*

Before we take
off I try calling Trick. He doesn’t answer.

“I shouldn’t have left him.” I sigh while turning my phone to airplane mode.

Tamsen rests her hand on mine. “He’ll be fine. He’s probably in the bathroom, maybe taking a shower.”

“It came on so sudden.”

“Probably a virus.”

I nod, not really convinced of it. “This trip is a waste of time.”

“But you’re curious?”

“Yes, but not just about what he might have there. As crazy as it sounds, I want to see her penthouse … I’ve never been there. It’s as if I want to confirm that she’s the heartless bitch I’ve always thought her to be. I want to find pictures of some other guy, or men’s shoes that wouldn’t fit my father. As much as I despise her, a small part of me feels sorry for her that my father was always whoring around on her.”

“So … the whole fiasco over the open casket didn’t prove it?”

I laugh. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But that’s just Rachel. In her own twisted way she thought she was doing him a favor as much as herself. She always had a way of making my father look good in the public eye, politically and fashionably speaking.”

*

As soon as
the plane lands I try Trick again.

No answer.

“Maybe I should see if Gemmie can check on him?”

“If you think it will ease your mind.” Tamsen grabs our bags from the overhead compartment. “But if he chooses to ignore the door then it will only send you further into panic mode.”

“I know.” I frown as we exit the plane.

“Let’s go back to my place. You can try him again, freshen up, and then we’ll go to Rachel’s so you can do what you came to do and get back home to Trick. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I stare at my phone the entire way to Tamsen’s, willing it to ring or at least chime with a text from him.

It doesn’t.

Tamsen unlocks her door, dropping her bag just inside. “The bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need to use it and the guest bedroom is on the left.” She sprinkles some food into her fish tank and presses the button on her answering machine.

“
Fucking turn on your cell phone!”

My eyes go wide at the sound of Grady’s angry voice.

Tamsen shakes her head and continues to focus on her fish. “Always the drama queen. He’s been very high maintenance…” she looks back at me with the stink eye “…well, higher than usual since you and Trick moved to Mexico. I get all the calls and blown-out-of-proportion emergencies that Trick used to get.” Another sour look over her shoulder. “Thanks for that. I think he’s a little bipolar.”

“Bet you’re glad he’s in LA At least you can ignore his calls. If he were here he’d be banging down your door.”

“Amen, sister.”

I call Trick again, and again it goes to voicemail. “I’m ninety percent worried and ten percent pissed that you’re not answering your phone or any of the texts I’ve sent you. Please! Pick. Up!”

Tamsen giggles. “Now
you’re
sounding like Grady.”

I grimace. “Yeah, maybe you should call him back. What if it really is important?”

“Fine.” She sighs while picking up her phone. “It’s me. Sorry I missed your calls, but obviously I’m not the only one not answering their phone. I’m leaving to go to Rachel’s with Darby. I’ll have my cell phone
on
, so you can call me when you get this. Bye.” She shoves her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. “Ready?”

I nod, eyes still glued to my phone.

*

We arrive at
the Manhattan high-rise and of course Rachel is not here.

“She’s expecting me,” I assure the fossil at the front desk.

She looks over the frames of her reading glasses. “Then you must know the code.” She gestures to the elevators.

I grin. “Of course.” Pivoting on the balls of my feet, I head toward the elevator with confidence.

“So you know the code?” Tamsen whispers.

“Nope, but I have a good guess.”

When the doors open we step onto the elevator and I type in a four-digit code.

Tamsen grins as the doors close and the elevator beings its ascent. “Good guess.”

“It’s the year she started her company, the same four-digit code for the security at her other house. Rachel’s dresses may be originals but that’s where it ends.”

“So where is she today?” Tamsen asks as we step out of the elevator onto a sea of black and white marble flooring.

“Beats me. I could call her but I’d rather she not be looking over my shoulder while I’m here.”

“You mean while you’re snooping around.”

I check my phone again, unable to stop worrying about Trick. “Something like that.” I frown when I see there are no notifications on my screen. We worm our way through the maze of expensive furniture and pedestals with nude sculptures until we reach the double doors to the master suite.

“Can you believe people really live like this?”

“People, no. Rachel, yes.”

“Damn! Look at this bed.” Tamsen runs her hand up one of the mammoth columns to the four-poster bed.

There are two walk-in closets with a bathroom in the middle.

“I’ll go right, you go left.” I flip on the light and this closet, that’s larger than some studio apartments, should shock me, but it’s Rachel and I wouldn’t expect anything less. My conscience reminds me that she could show up at any time and this is clearly not my father’s closet, but my curiosity overrules all common sense. It’s filled with miles of shoes and dresses and a wall safe at the far end—handbags, scarves, coats, hats. It looks like the entire women’s section of a department store, not a closet. But what catches my eye is the box slid under the middle unit of drawers. I’m not even sure why. Maybe because everything looks so perfect—immaculate—but then there’s this box that looks like it was haphazardly shoved there.

“I’m not seeing much, Darby. Are you?” Tamsen yells from the other closet.

I kneel down and slide the box out.

Kathleen Henderson.

I don’t recognize the name or the Queens address. The box has been opened at one end so I tip it just enough for the contents to slide out. There’s a receipt on top of …
the drawing
.

Holy fucking hell!

“I think you’re looking in the wrong closet.”