Ready & Willing (35 page)

The red hot rage inside Silas very nearly exploded then. That any man would lift a hand to Cecilia, that he would mistreat her in the most demeaning way made him want to commit murder. But only after mistreating the fiend in a way that was comparable—and then some—to the pain he had inflicted himself. Were Silas made of flesh and blood, he would hie himself to San Francisco on the next train and beat the man bloody.

Barely able to keep his voice level, he said, “Surely someone notified the police. A neighbor. A coworker. Surely, this man paid for what he did to you.”

“Yeah, I reported the incident,” she said. “From my hospital bed. The cops questioned Vincent for forty-five minutes and let him go. No charges were filed.”

“
What?
” Silas asked incredulously.

“It was his word against mine,” she said wearily. “He said I’d been beaten up by a man I was seeing on the sly and who I was trying to protect, pinning it on Vincent. And Dolan backed him up.”

“But that’s outrageous,” Silas objected. “Vincent—”

“Vincent is a very prominent citizen,” she interrupted him. “He’s friends with lawyers and judges and politicians. He donates money to social causes and sponsors all kinds of community events. He is loved by the San Francisco community. The cops didn’t believe me—no one believed me. They all believed him. I was nobody. I was nothing.”

“You were never nothing, Cecilia,” Silas said vehemently. “Vincent may have tried to make you feel that way, but it isn’t true. You’re a remarkable woman, to have survived what you did at the hands of that animal and come out of it being the gracious, vivacious, decent, wonderful woman you are.”

She nodded again, a little slower this time. “Yeah, that’s me. Gracious, vivacious, decent.”

“And wonderful,” he added, hoping his smile looked reassuring when he was still seething inside. “Don’t forget wonderful.”

She said nothing for a moment, then, very quietly, told him, “As soon as I was able to walk, I left the hospital. I didn’t even check myself out. I’d kept one bank account Vincent didn’t know about, one that had a couple thousand bucks in it. I cashed out and left San Francisco and never looked back. Spent the next few months staying with friends and acquaintances around the country until I looked up Stephen here. And here I’ve stayed.” She turned to him again. “There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, afraid he’s looking for me and that he’ll find me. But really, he’s probably forgotten all about me by now. I’ve put that part of my life behind me as well as I can and am finally beginning to heal.” Her expression softened some as she added, “That’s due in large part to you, you know.” She looked out at the river a final time, then back at him. “I should get you home. If Audrey gets back and sees your portrait gone, she’ll worry. Can’t have that.”

No, he supposed not. But then, he wasn’t the one anyone should be worrying about. Of all of them, it was Cecilia who commanded concern at the moment.

She’d claimed she was beginning to heal, he echoed to himself. But it didn’t sound like healing to him. It sounded like bandaging without antiseptic and hoping infection didn’t set in later. The only way to heal the sort of wound Cecilia had was to excise the infection that was making it fester. There was still pain and fear in her, thanks to this Vincent character. As long as she didn’t feel safe from him, she would never be able to put that part of her life completely behind her. And the only way she would feel safe from him was to know unequivocally that he could never, ever, hurt her again.

But Silas wouldn’t press her on this. Not now. Maybe not ever. One thing, however, was certain, Silas knew. Vincent Strayer should not be allowed to walk the earth a free, untormented man, having done what he did to Cecilia. Having done what he may have done to other women. Having done what he might very well do again. Justice must be served. Somehow. At some point. By someone.

Fortunately, Silas had a very good idea where to start.

Sixteen

LATE MONDAY EVENING FOUND AUDREY SITTING AT
her kitchen table in pale blue, cloud-spattered pajama pants and a white tank top, an open bottle of wine and half-empty glass of pinot noir sitting in front of her. The only light in the room spilled through the window from a streetlight in the alley out back, falling in an almost perfect rectangle of lavender illumination on the table. In the center of that almost perfect rectangle of lavender lay Audrey’s left hand, palm down. As she lifted her wine for another sip with her right hand, she gazed down at her left. At the third finger of her left hand, precisely. Where the lavender lamplight glinted off the gold of her wedding band, turning it almost silver.

She enjoyed a long, leisurely drink of the wine, savoring the full, heady flavor in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. It was the same label Nathaniel had ordered for them at Buck’s that first night they went out. She’d had no idea how expensive it was until she’d gone to look for it. She’d paid seventy-five dollars retail. It must have cost twice that in the restaurant. No wonder he hadn’t let her pay the bill that night.

Impulsively, she put down the glass and reached for the chain that had remained around her neck the last three years, tugging free Sean’s ring from beneath her shirt and cupping it in her right palm. She hadn’t removed the ring or chain once since putting them on. Not once. Not for Nathaniel. Not for anything. There had been nights when she’d rolled over on the big ring and woken herself from the discomfort of having it lodged between her chest and the mattress, but she still hadn’t taken it off. Times when she’d attended formal events where a plain gold chain disappearing into a neckline had looked out of place, but she’d worn it anyway. And once, when an airport metal detector had gone off and the security guard had said she would have to remove all her jewelry before being allowed through, she’d cashed in her ticket and opted to drive the six hours to Atlanta instead.

The guard had thought her ridiculous. And maybe she had been. At the time, there had been no question that she would opt to keep the necklace on. Because at the time, she’d thought removing it would mean breaking some tie to Sean. The same way removing her wedding ring would cease to make her married to Sean.

But she wasn’t married to Sean, she reminded herself. Not legally. Not technically. Not physically. And after the day she’d spent with Nathaniel yesterday, not—

Well. Not something else, either. She hadn’t stopped loving her husband, so it wasn’t that she’d ceased to be emotionally tied to him. And he still occupied a place inside her, so she’d hadn’t stopped being spiritually tied to him, either. But if she were still married to Sean in the ways that counted, she would feel guilty for having made love with Nathaniel yesterday, and she didn’t feel guilty at all. She felt confused, uncertain, and not a little fearful. But she didn’t feel guilty.

She had thought she would have to duck his calls today, but her private line hadn’t rung once. Nor had he tried to reach her at Finery. She would have thought that would make her panicky. Would have thought that would convince her he was only after one thing from her, and having gotten it, had lost interest. In another place and time, with another man, she might have come to that very conclusion. But she didn’t feel that way with Nathaniel. She knew him well enough by now to know he cared for her. No man could have made love to her with the care and intimacy he had without having some kind of affection for her. He was giving her time and space, that was all. Time and space he thought she needed, to come to terms with what was happening between them.

Strangely, it had ended up being time and space that allowed Audrey to realize she didn’t need any time or space after all.

She reached behind her neck and unfastened the clasp of the chain, holding it in place for a moment with both hands, her heart hammering hard in her chest, as if she were about to undertake some monumental, life-threatening risk. Then, very, very slowly, she removed the necklace and ring and set them on the table. The ring lay in the wan lavender light, its black stone looking surprisingly dull and cold. Audrey sat motionless, breathless, waiting for something to happen. Something portentous and ominous, something creepy and uncanny, something mystical and ethereal.

Something.

But nothing happened. The wind didn’t pick up outside. The floorboards didn’t creak. Nothing flew from the cabinet to shatter on the floor. No misty shape appeared in the doorway to lift a ghostly finger of accusation.

Nothing changed inside Audrey, either. She still felt exactly the same way she felt five minutes ago. Confused. Uncertain. Not a little fearful. And it was still Nathaniel, not Sean, who circled in her thoughts.

Her gaze fell to the ring on her left hand. It was in a shadow now, no longer glistening. With her right hand, she lifted the glass and emptied it, then immediately filled it with more wine. She lifted that glass, too, and drank generously before replacing it on the table, then moved her right hand to her left. The ring came free with one tug, moving easily over her knuckle to the end of her fingertip. After only one small hesitation, she withdrew her wedding band completely, then set it beside Sean’s ring, in the rectangle of violet light. The small, undecorated band looked utterly incongruous next to its heavy, artfully inscribed neighbor. A small indentation remained on her finger, the only remnant now of her tie to a man who had left her years ago.

Again, she awaited any change in the Earth’s orbit or a shift in the current dimension or a crack in the fabric of time. But there was nothing. Nothing but she and a half-empty bottle, and a half-empty glass, and two completely empty rings.

But not, she couldn’t help noticing, an empty heart.

In fact, her heart suddenly felt fuller than it had ever felt before. Because instead of feelings for one man, she had feelings for two. She still loved Sean. She would always love Sean. But there was something else there, too. Something for someone besides Sean. There was . . . affection . . . for Nathaniel, as well.

Funny, how that could be possible. How new love could be generated without borrowing from the old. How the heart could hold an infinite supply of the stuff. How the brain could make new rooms for new experiences, new memories, new people, without closing the doors of any of the others in its vast warren of thoughts.

“Audrey.”

Before she even had a chance to get a grip on those revelations, Silas’s voice cut through the darkness, tugging her out of her thoughts of both the past and the future and into the present instead. He stepped out of a shadow at the far corner of her kitchen and crossed the room to join her at the table, taking the seat opposite hers, where Nathaniel had sat not so long ago.

“Hey, Silas,” she said softly. She was about to ask him where he’d been for the past couple of days, then she remembered that for at least one of those days, she hadn’t been home herself.

Before she could say anything at all, however, he told her, “Audrey, I’ve found him.”

She knew immediately who he was referring to, and the air left her lungs in a soft whoosh. He’d located her dead husband in the afterlife. And his timing couldn’t have been more—

Well. Maybe there had been a shift in the current dimension or a crack in the fabric of time after all.

“You found Sean?” she asked in spite of her certainty.

He nodded. “And I spoke to him.”

Something caught in her throat at the announcement. “But you said you couldn’t do that.”

“Yes, well, I seem to have finally discovered that portal between this life and that one. And I’ve discovered I can come and go as freely as I want. Anyone who wants to can, actually. And a surprising number already have.”

So many thoughts began to tumble through Audrey’s mind then that she could barely get a grip on any of them. She wanted, of course, to know about Sean. Instead, she heard herself ask, “My parents? Have you seen them?”

He said nothing for a moment, as if that wasn’t the question he had expected to answer first. “I have, actually,” he told her. “They asked me all about you and were happy to hear you followed your dream of making hats. Your mother, especially, expressed her delight that you listened to her all those times she told you to follow your heart.”

Audrey smiled at that. It was something her mother had told her often, from the time she had been able to understand what it meant to follow her heart. She’d done her best to follow her mother’s advice. But it hadn’t just been with quitting her accounting job to start her millinery business. It had been when she married Sean, too. And now . . .

Now her heart was telling her to follow a new path.

“Sean?” she finally asked Silas. “Has he ever come through that . . . portal?”

“Yes,” Silas told her, his voice softening. “Years ago. Shortly after his death. He came several times. To make sure you were getting along all right. And because he missed you.”

Which explained all those episodes in that first year after his death, Audrey thought. It didn’t explain, though, why there hadn’t been others.

“Did you talk to Sean, as well?” she asked Silas.

“I did.”

“And you told him I’d asked about him?”

“Yes.”

“You told him I wanted to talk to him, too, the way I talk to you?”

“I told him that, as well, yes.”

But Sean wasn’t here, she told herself unnecessarily. If he had come through before, then he knew the way. And if she could talk to Silas the way she did, then she should be able to talk to Sean, too. She’d been thinking all this time that the reason he hadn’t returned to her the way Silas had was because he hadn’t known how, or perhaps because he hadn’t realized how much Audrey missed him. But if he’d come before, he must have seen for himself how much she was grieving for him. Why hadn’t he shown himself the way Silas had?

Silas must have sensed her turmoil, because he told her, “He loved you very much in life, Audrey. And he continues to love you now. It’s just that he . . . Well, he . . . He . . .”