Three and a Half Weeks (36 page)

Going after the judge was too risky although they ultimately tried it, hoping to make it appear to be an ordinary automobile accident. The old iron bastard survived with some serious but not life-threatening injuries. But the whole DNA thing Natasha feared so much gave her the idea about her uncles. They were her mother’s brothers, born in Lithuania, twins born a week apart. What Natasha found of particular interest was their dedication to one Lucien Phillips, of French and Danish extraction, but reared primarily in the United States and Paris, France. The record indicated his father was a French national, an exceedingly wealthy financier, and his mother was a member of the Danish royal family.

She knew her uncles were behind his kidnapping: they used the ransom money to help finance their sister’s life in the U.S. But why did they bear such lifelong devotion to a child of strangers? Natasha suspected she knew the answer and set out to prove it through DNA analysis.

Tests confirmed her suspicions: Leo was Lucien’s biological father but Natasha discovered that the brothers were both fucking Lucien’s mother and the two agreed to accept the boy as belonging to both, never getting tested. So Lucien, for all intents and purposes, was both men’s son—and such a beautiful one at that. The brothers were proud of their spawn. When they saw his face after Ian Blackmon got through with him, they were ready to wipe the street
s with him. It was only through Natasha’s persuasion that they relented. She promised them she would take Blackmon down. Killing him could end up getting one of them life and the rest deported, permanently banned from U.S. soil.

Did Lucien know one of her uncles was his biological father? Natasha didn’t think so, since he frequently spoke of the French financier as his forebear. The mother never said anything, probably due to the fact that she was not a willing participant in the sex games the brothers forced upon her. Natasha guessed it was closer to rape than anything else. She did pass off her child on her husband for many different reasons, all of them practical.

So in the end, Natasha and her parents decided to make the judge pay for his sins through his son or grandson. After all, isn’t it true that the sins of the father are almost always visited upon the son?

While Ian’s in the shower getting ready for his trip to New York, I snatch up his iPad to make a playlist for his flight. I begin with
Seven Nation Army
, a song that I could imagine Ian loving. Then I add songs to the mix that I doubt he’s ever heard. Finally, for whimsy’s sake, I throw in
El Scorcho
and for irony,
Tainted Love
. When I’m done, his new playlist has twelve songs.

Okay, so that will kill at least a half-hour of his six-hour flight. Now what? Should I write him a letter?

I decide to do just that but I have to be quick about it for his shower has to be winding down right about now. I can’t open a word file on his iPad but I can write it in an email text and send it to him. So I do.

I title my letter
Things I Love About You
and in it I tell him all the things I love about him, duh: the silvery color of his eyes first thing in the morning when bright daylight irradiates them, the way his silky dark hair fans across his forehead when we’re riding in his new convertible Jag, making him look so young and sweet, and the look on his face when he has an orgasm—his eyes glaze over then close and his expression is one of pure ecstasy.

I lie back on the pillow and cast my mind over the days of our nascent relationship. More things to love drift into my head like feathers on the wind: the rakish way he looked dressed all in black that night at his naughty club, his sexy moans that made me physically ache for him when he kissed me that same night, his expression when he first showed me his new houseboat, which we shortly thereafter christened…

Ah, there’s just so much I love about Ian Blackmon. The shower is off now but I hear the sink faucet running so he’s still busy—I have a few more minutes. Closing my eyes, I see him behind the wheel of his new Jaguar F-Type. Oh, yes, his intense pleasure whenever he slides into the driver’s seat of one of his fast cars: his eyes gleam with an unholy light and a focused concentration grips him, as if the sexy car requires all of his attention to operate.

Then there’s the beautiful businessman side of him: the suits he wears are not ordinary ones by any stretch of the imagination: they are lovers woven of fabric, that hang just perfectly off his muscled frame, wrapping sensuously around him, in a lush dance with his body in motion. Yes, I wax poetic about stupid fucking
suits
when it comes to Ian. Conservative at work, he favors dark suits and muted shirts with solid ties. But it doesn’t matter: they’re well cut and expensively made, and with that body he would look good in anything or nothing. Certainly nothing.

I write all of this down, knowing there’s so much more that I could be writing this list for days on end. Alas, the limited reasons I’ve listed will have to do for now. He’s emerging from the bathroom and it’s time for the
Let’s Watch Naked Ian Get Dressed
show. It’s my second favorite pastime. I sit up straighter in the bed and wait impatiently for the damn towel to drop.

“What are you up to?” His tone is teasing as he unexpectedly turns to catch me gaping, his left eyebrow lifted in an amused query.

“What are
you
up to, is the better question,” I ask breezily, noting a favorite part of him standing at attention. Do we have time for one more go-round? “I was just sending you an email to read on the flight to New York.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, plus I compiled a playlist on your iPad,” I say proudly. “That should eat up a whole forty-five minutes. Then if you have a three-hour nap and a leisurely two-hour meal, that will get you all the way to New York.”

Ian grins and swaggers over, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand reaches over and he gently brushes back the hair in my face, then grasps my hand. “Promise me you’ll keep Mason by your side every single minute when you’re not in this condo.”

“Should he sleep with me, too? For protection, I mean?” His responding glower is answer enough. “Okay, I promise, Ian. I understand the danger involved. Promise
me
you won’t go to Lucien’s alone… in fact, you shouldn’t go there at all. Perhaps you might meet him at a public place?”

“I promise I won’t go alone. The problem with meeting him, Ella, is that the man isn’t just going to pick up the phone and joyfully arrange to meet me at the place of my choosing. I don’t even know if he’s in town for certain but I couldn’t exactly phone him for his schedule.” He peers closely into my eyes. “Claudia is going to call you with the girlfriend’s contact number. Don’t forget to call. Okay?”

I nod. “What should I say, do you think?”

“Explain who you are and then, if you think it necessary to loosen her tongue, tell her about what happened to you and how Lucien feared the two men were behind it. Segue from there to ask if she knows anything about them. You may not want to mention Natasha’s name upfront because according to your friend Maya, the evil one broke up their long-term relationship.”

Again, I nod in assent, now troubled. I never met this Natasha person but I hate her already. She wants to hurt Ian through whatever means she can, and that includes me. I hope we can hurt her first, though I have no idea if it’s even possible.

“Ian, do you have a plan of attack or are you just doing reconnaissance?”

“I have a tentative plan, but it’s entirely subject to change as needed. Come here,” he holds out his arms. “I don’t want you worrying. As long as you stick close to Mason, you’ll be fine, Ella. I promise.”

“What about you?” I choke out, upset now “will you be fine?”

Ian bends down to so our eyes are level. “I will be fine. I’m going in with protection and extreme caution. Plus, I can defend myself quite well.”

“Not against a gun or a knife. These people can be ruthless—you don’t know what they’re capable of, do you?”

“I suspect I do know but I’d rather not share it with you right now.” He smiles. “I’ll keep in touch, baby. Just make that phone call and get back to me with whatever info you manage to ferret out of her. Okay? I’ve got to go: Scott’s been waiting on me for nearly two hours.”

“Okay, go.”

He turns to grab his bag and head to the door. “Ian!”

His face shifts toward me. “Yes?”

I zip over to him and throw my arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“Ella, I love you, too. I’ll be back soon and we’ll spend some time together doing happy things for a change. No business dinners, no corporate event
s, no fights with ex-lovers or—employers. Just you, me, and some serious fun. Yes?”

Smiling broadly, I nod my head vigorously. “I’ll start planning right away. How does roller blading grab you?”

The look of horror that descends over his face leaves me giggling even after the door closes. Five minutes later, I miss him already—desperately.

Claudia phones me at ten-thirty with the contact info for one Eliza McQueen. The hand that is holding the paper on which I’ve written the number is shaking as if with palsy: obviously, I don’t want to do this but I promised Ian. I figure I’ll just bite the bullet and get it over with so I pick up the damn phone, deciding if she doesn’t pick up, I won’t leave a message. Or should I? How will I ever get in touch with her if she screens calls? Okay, maybe I will leave a message. While this internal debate is underway, a woman’s voice answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“Er… yes,” I stammer. “Is this Eliza McQueen?”

“It is. Who’s calling?”

“Um, Ms. McQueen, my name is Ella Strong and I used to work with Lucien Phillips. I wanted—”

“Let me stop you right there. Lucien and I are no longer together.”

“Please don’t disconnect,” I say hurriedly, because I think she’s about to. “I know you’re not together anymore. I worked for him very recently, Eliza, and I had an experience… a rather terrible one that left me with many questions. Just recently, my fiancé learned that one of his exes was involved with Lucien and asked if I might speak with you about it. Perhaps you might be able to shed some light on the matter. Maya also referred me to you. Will you speak to me?”

“Ella, did you say your name was?”

“Yes. Ella Strong.”

“Where are you calling from, Ella?”

Puzzled, I’m not sure what she’s asking. “Um, I’m calling from my home in Portland, Oregon.”

“I’m in Santa Barbara… in California. This is a conversation we really shouldn’t have over the phone. Since you’re the one requesting information, you should be the one to travel to me, don’t you think?”

“Yes, well, normally that wouldn’t be a problem but I’ve been threatened by Lucien’s friend so my fiancé won’t let me leave the house for the foreseeable future… at least not without my bodyguard.”

“Bring your bodyguard then.”

“Is it possible we can just talk over the phone? Initially?”

I hear Eliza sigh through the miles. “What do you want to know?”

What
do
I want to know? I’m just not sure but Ian advised me not to open with Natasha. I opt for vagueness. “Is there anything out of the ordinary you can tell me about Lucien or his… friends?”

There is a small sound of outrage from her. I immediately realize I need to give Eliza more information before I ask any questions.”

“Eliza, allow me to first explain what happened to me.” With that I give her the whole rundown, beginning with the call from Lara that hooked me up with Lucien in the first place and ending with Lucien’s explanation in Starbucks.

There’s a dense silence over there in Santa Barbara. I wait patiently for something from her, whatever she deigns to toss my way. “I can’t say I’m surprised by any of it, I’m sorry to say. You’re still missing some big pieces of the puzzle though. One huge piece, anyway.”

“Does that huge piece have a name?” I don’t wait for her to reply. “A name that begins with an N, perchance?”

“You got it. So you know about her, then?”

“Yes. My fiancé used to…” How do I explain it? “They used to be a couple, since high school, and then went into business together. She’s been systematically trying to sabotage him ever since. He’s attempting to find out why. We thought you might have some insight into it.”

“I can tell you the woman is insane, for one thing—and a total grade-A bitch, for another. I would even hazard to say she’s a C-word but I’ve got too much class to use such language. If anyone ever deserved the characterization, it would be Natasha.”

“What about the goons who work for him, the brothers?”

“They’re
bottom feeders but as far as I can tell, fairly harmless. They certainly look capable of serious criminality but in the years that I was with Lucien, I’d never seen them do anything untoward at all. In fact, they were downright respectful of me. I never was sure why because I saw them being very antagonistic and even overtly rude with other women.”

“I’m pretty sure they were the ones responsible for drugging me.”

“God, that must have been awful for you. I wouldn’t put it past the Lithuanians but I’ve never seen them do anything that bad. At their worst, I saw them chase a guy who stole a parking spot from them but, hey, in New York anyone would do that. Parking spots are like the most precious gold in that city.”

“Do you know anything about Natasha that might help?”

“Not really. You know the brothers are her uncles, right?

I murmured an assent.

“She initially came around to see them but once Lucien got an eyeful of her, he was always hanging around like some pathetic puppy whenever she was over. She stayed in New York for a long while
visiting
them. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was cheating; I think they started up about two or three weeks after she first arrived. I left shortly thereafter.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that she ruined your relationship. And now she doesn’t even see him, I don’t think.”

“Oh, it was apparent even then that the attraction was mainly one-sided but Lucien didn’t seem to care one way or the other. He was fixated on her. We were engaged to be married, you know. He threw away a four-year relationship for a few weeks with her. Good riddance. I will say, though, that it pains me to learn how she’s using him to hurt other people. Lucien can be such a fool.”

“Yes. But I do think he might be the innocent in all of this dirty business. I feel for him, if that’s the case.”

“Well, Ella, that’s about all I can offer you: I really don’t know much at all. If I think of anything at all that might help, I’ll give you a call.”

“Yes, Eliza, I really appreciate your time.”

We disconnect and I put my phone down and get up to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen. I’m halfway there when I hear my phone singing. I do an about-face and grab for the phone right before it goes to voice mail. It’s Eliza’s number displayed on the face.

“Hello?”

“Ella?”

“Yes, Eliza, it’s me.”

“The second I disconnected from you a memory popped into my mind. I don’t want to worry you too much but you need to know. Right before I left Lucien, I was at his place packing and I overheard a conversation between Natasha and Lukas and Leo. I didn’t hear too much of it but what I did made me very nervous. They were talking about the man in Portland, that’s how they referred to him. Leo was saying something like, “If that doesn’t take down the man in Portland, we can always arrange for a little accident.” I actually thought they must’ve been kidding, at the time. It was like dialogue right out of a bad TV movie