Under the Same Sun (Stone Trilogy) (35 page)

The battery on his phone had run empty. Jon had no idea where the charger was, and that made him smile despite his turmoil. For most of his life, he had done his own packing; but Naomi had taken it out of his hands, saying he was inefficient and sloppy, and using a lot more space than he actually needed. He had loved to give in to her, had loved to sit and watch her handle his belongings. There was hardly anything that had made him feel more married than the small, domestics things they shared, and he wanted that sense of security back at all costs.

“We had a rather bad argument about Joshua and his plans for his future, and we said terrible things to each other. All that could have been remedied, but then…” Jon looked into Sal’s face and saw disbelief there. “I walked out on her. I left the car and walked away. It’s my fault, Sal. I left her alone, somewhere in the middle on Manhattan.” He shrugged. “Well, LaGasse was with her, but I wasn’t.”

Once the words were spoken, Jon understood he couldn’t take them back, nor could he wipe away the trace of disgust on Sal’s face.

“You left her,” Sal asked softly. “You left Naomi?”

“I was furious, okay?” He wanted coffee so much it was almost a physical pain. “I was so furious it was either walk away or say things I knew I was going to regret forever because she would never forgive me.”

“I don’t think she’ll forgive you for walking away from her either.” Sal lit a cigarette, and Jon frowned.

“Outside,” he ordered. “She doesn’t want smoking in this house.”

They stepped out onto the patio where Sal flicked his ashes into the sad ruin of the brick barbecue. “This is all beside the point anyway. You want her back, and she’s out there somewhere. So you know what we have to do. We have to call the police. I’ll take care of that. And you, Jon—” Sal gave him a sad squint through the blue smoke—“I think you’d better call Olaf. And then put on a bulletproof vest or something, because the old man will have your hide if something happens to her.”

I
t was nearly eleven by the time Olaf and Lucia showed up, Joshua in tow. Jon greeted them and tried to offer something to drink before he realized there was nothing in the house. Lucia cast one glance into the fridge, kissed Olaf’s cheek, and left again, taking LaGasse and Joshua with her.

Olaf wandered into the studio.

“So what happened? Naomi is an independent soul, Jon; she might just have decided to go to the theater or something. I can’t imagine a scenario where she would leave you.” He grinned mirthlessly. “She gave up everything for you, everything, including her life. She would never leave you.”

Jon closed the door behind him, shutting out Sal. “There is something she would leave me for, and in the blink of an eye, Olaf. She would leave me for Joshua.”

Olaf wiped his hand across the gleaming top of the Steinway. “Yes, that. She would probably do that.”

“We fought over Joshua today.” This, Jon decided, was probably the hardest thing he had ever done. It was much more difficult than going to Geneva on his own to demand Olaf’s consent to their marriage, just to make Naomi happy. “And it got really bad. She is very unhappy about Harvard. I signed the papers without talking to her about it. She was very angry about that.”

Olaf laughed. “Yes, she would be. It was the right thing to do though. It is a good decision.”

“That’s not the point.”

The towers of the city blinked at him through the darkness; he could hear their hum calling to him, taunting him. Somewhere, somewhere in those canyons, Naomi was wandering around all on her own right now. Jon had the terrible urge to leave the house and the people in it, return to Manhattan, and walk through the streets searching for her. He tried to find the right words, tried to tell Olaf; but looking at the stern, lean face, he stumbled over his own words.

“We took that decision away from her, Olaf. It was hers to make, and we took it away from her. You, by suggesting Harvard to Joshua without consulting her, and me by signing those papers without her consent. She was right. I didn’t have the right to do that, and you didn’t have the right to talk to Josh without her knowing about it. No wonder she’s hurt and angry.”

Olaf waved him away. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what’s going on. Maybe she’s just shopping and…”—he pointed at the useless cell phone in Jon’s hand—“and her battery has run out, just like yours. You should really get better phones. Those are old and outdated. I’ll have some sent over to you tomorrow.”

Confused, Jon stared at the thing. He could hardly remember having been in a more surreal situation, ever. Not even when Naomi had been in the hospital, fighting for her life, and he had been alone with her parents at the Malibu house.

“Yes. Thank you,” he replied. “I don’t think she’s just shopping or having a good time. Our parting was too angry for that. And knowing Naomi, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s on a plane back to Norway right now. I’m just very worried.”

Olaf stared at him. “That’s easy to find out, isn’t it? Have you called the airports?”

The question was so ridiculous, Jon wanted to laugh. “Not even I would be able to get an answer from them.”

“Well.” Olaf got out his own phone. “Good thing I have some friends, isn’t it?”

chapter 33

S
he had no idea where she was. They’d been driving around for hours once they had left Manhattan through the tunnel, first along the Pulaski Skyway and then toward the shore, where he had taken her to the beach and made her walk through the surf with him. He had even carried her sandals, very gentlemanly and courteous, and offered his hand in support. She hadn’t taken it and bent down to pick up a shell instead, pretending to admire it. Parker had smiled and nodded, and commented that this was what he had wanted all along, to spend time with her without all those men who constantly hovered around her.

“Because,” he said, “you are way too lovely to waste your time with someone like Jon Stone. He can have any woman in the world, but he shouldn’t have you. You are meant to be free.”

Naomi did not point out that she wasn’t free right now, that he had virtually abducted her and was keeping her away from her husband and home against her will and wouldn’t even let her make a phone call. She had tried, but Parker had taken the cell from her, shaking his head. “Don’t. Just let it go. I promise, you are perfectly safe with me. Enjoy your new freedom!” He hadn’t returned it to her, nor had he given back her sandals but locked them in the car trunk. “Those things,” he explained, “looked uncomfortable with their high heels. We’ll get you more comfortable ones later.”

With a look at her hands he had added, “And those rings. You don’t want them anymore. Give them to me.” She had hidden her hands behind her back and tried to move away from him, but he had been faster and grabbed her wrist, forcing the wedding band and her diamond ring from her finger to fling them into the sea. Terrified, heartbroken, Naomi had sunk down on the sand and cried.

Parker had comforted her, telling her over and over that they had been her manacles, signs of her captivity, that he would see to it that she would never be a prisoner to anything or anyone at all. It was then that it dawned on her that she was in real danger.

The fast-food place where they had stopped was off the highway, on a small road and surrounded by parking lots. They were mostly empty at this time of night; only the one surrounding the restaurant was busy.

Parker hadn’t been too happy about stopping, but she had insisted she needed to use the bathroom, and she was hungry. Pointing at the billboard announcing food at the next exit, Naomi had said, “Go there. You don’t want to harm me, do you?” and he shook his head no .

There weren’t many people inside but enough to allow her to slip outside  without him noticing while he stood in line for her food.

She looked around in the humid darkness, lost and disoriented, barefoot, and totally alone.

Her purse was in the car; he hadn’t let her take it, saying she didn’t need it in the bathroom and he would get her a burger. He had said it very kindly too, and patted her shoulder. “It’s a very nice purse, and you might drop it in that restroom. You don’t want it to be ruined, do you?” Obediently, she had shaken her head and let him lead her away.

A car came up slowly and turned into the drive-through lane, a single woman behind the wheel. It stopped at the first window. With a furtive glance to check on Parker, Naomi hurried over to her.

“Help me,” she whispered, hunkering down on the side of the vehicle. “Please, help me. I’ve been kidnapped. He’s in there, getting food, and I managed to get away when he let me use the bathroom. Please. Please, help me.”

The woman looked at her through dark-rimmed glasses, lips pursed and brows drawn. Then she reached over and opened the door.

“Get in,” she said, and stepped on the gas as soon as Naomi had clambered in.

She took the car onto the road and through a number of loops, confusing Naomi even further. Not even in LA were the highways this convoluted.

“You’re barefoot,” the woman remarked. “Did he take your shoes?”

Naomi wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the heat of the night. Her fingers were trembling badly. “He took everything away, everything. My shoes, my cell phone, my purse…” She looked at her hands. “My wedding ring. My engagement ring.”

T
he stranger said nothing for a while, just looked ahead into the night. They crossed an overpass and the road turned into the main street of a small town lined with trees and pleasant homes with porches.

“I’m Jane.” They took a left turn.

Naomi looked at her. She was a slight woman with short, curly brown hair shot through with gray, somewhere in her late forties or early fifties, her face quite lovely, and very friendly. Her driving was careful, slow, but never uncertain. She glanced at Naomi when she started to cry.

“He threw them away,” Naomi sobbed. “He threw my rings away. My diamond…”

“Those can be replaced,” Jane replied briskly. “Just be glad you’re safe now. We need to call the police. And you have to call your family.” She stopped the car outside a white house. “Here we are. Come on, come inside.”

They were in a residential area. The house stood on a corner, surrounded by high trees and a clean, neat lawn. It had a small porch, more of a landing outside the door, a few steps leading up to it, also painted white. Naomi, standing on the sidewalk while Jane took her purse from the backseat, was entranced by the blue lights in the posts of the stairway, nearly like small lighthouses, and very pretty. Right now it seemed like the most inviting place she had ever seen.

“Come on in.” Jane was waiting for her. “My husband is home, and we have a dog, a rather big and lively dog; but he won’t harm you, I promise. He’s quite well trained.” She paused and added, a little less certain, “I think.”

A cozy parlor greeted them, well furnished, tastefully decorated, and with lots of bookcases. They were all glass fronted, which struck Naomi as strange until she saw the dog behind the baby gate, locked in the kitchen. She had no idea what kind of breed he was, but he was large, and he looked like trouble. From the parlor, through the dining room, Naomi could see a TV surrounded by more bookcases, a couch in front of it, and the gray top of a man’s head just above the cushions. He was watching baseball.

“
H
e loves baseball.” Jane threw a brief glance in his direction. “He won’t even notice we’re here. Now.” She looked critically at Naomi. “Would you like to clean up a bit? You look a little bedraggled. I’ll put on some tea and find you something to eat in the meantime. And then you’ll have to make those calls.”

“Coffee? Could I have coffee?” Naomi felt naked, exposed, in a strange way delivered into strangers’ hands, helpless.

“On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”  Jane tapped her fingers on the counter. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital. Were you…did he…your abductor, did he…hurt you?”

It took Naomi a moment to understand what she was talking about. “No.” The idea was so terrible, she didn’t even want to think about it. “No, I’m not hurt. He never touched me. Well, not in that way. He did take away my rings by force…” Her ring. The diamond Jon had bought for her in London, on the day he had asked her to marry him, on that magical day when she had agreed to be his wife. “I have to call my husband. My father. Oh God, my husband will be beside himself with worry!” She stopped.

For the first time that night Naomi wondered if it was true, if Jon was really worrying about her or if he had stopped caring, stopped loving her the moment he had left her in the limo after those awful things she had said to him. She was so exhausted, so scared and confused, and this thought nearly made her break.

“Yes, please. I’d like to use your phone.” Her voice was shaking with this new terror.

Jane nodded. “Come with me. You can use my office. It’s a mess, I warn you, but you’ll have some privacy there.”

The dog waved his tail at her when they walked past the kitchen door to the back of the house, where another door led into the messiest office Naomi had ever seen. There was paper everywhere, piles of books, more piles of paper, and yet more books. In a corner, three cartons stood in a precarious tower, all of them filled with what looked suspiciously like stuffed animals of all kinds. The desk was hidden beneath stacks of more books, more folders; and even the computer was propped on some copies of a dictionary.  The wall behind the chair, right next to the window, was covered with notes, postcards, photographs, a Christmas ornament dangling from the curtain rod. It was the most comfortable, friendliest place Naomi had ever seen, and it looked loved.

“Toys?” she asked.

“I juggle a lot of balls.” With a shrug, Jane dug out the phone from under a heap of manila envelopes. “Here you go. I didn’t even ask; where are you from? How long have you been gone? We should really, really call the police first.” She scribbled an address, name, and phone number on a slip of paper. “Here. This is where you are, and that’s me. You’ll have to tell them where to find you.”