Crush(99)

My mind was warped. I couldn’t think straight right now. My thoughts couldn’t even be vocalized. O’Shea was with Lizzy when she was “missing.” He’d never told Elle about it. He’d videotaped this f*cked-up event for a reason.

I mean why?

What the f*ck?

We walked toward the elevator and Miles managed to at least say what I couldn’t. “What the f*ck kind of guy does that with his wife?”

“The one who wants to lay claim to my girl,” I muttered.

He pressed the button and turned his head toward me. “What did you say?”

“The same one who wants Elle,” I said and closed my eyes.

The very thought was enough to drive me crazy.





ELLE


I opened the back door of my townhouse with my hands full.

I had my laptop on one shoulder, my purse on the other, and a giant plush elephant clutched in between. Logan had picked it up yesterday for Clementine. It was so big it had to be the size of her. I’d been unsuccessful in replacing Rosie and although Clementine had long forgotten her once precious rattle, he hoped this would fill any void the lost toy might have created.

It was really sweet.

Much to my chagrin, when I glanced toward the dark sky filled with gray clouds, I knew it was going to rain again. Boston in the spring was proving that my investment in a good raincoat was well worth it. I’d also picked up a red rain hat and red rain boots. Luckily, I had already shoved the hat on my head before stepping foot outdoors, but unfortunately my rain boots were at the boutique.

I took in the beautiful green colors that surrounded me—the trees, the grass, the stems of the flowers. Everything was starting to get so green and lush. I loved the Northeast and couldn’t believe I’d spent so much time anywhere but here.

After a few moments of taking in the fresh air, I turned on my heels to lock the kitchen door. When I did, I felt something strange beneath my soles. The giant elephant was blocking my view but still, I managed to glance downward.

Black rose petals covered the stoop. Hundreds of them. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt a chill that was not from the cool temperature. I glanced around. Nothing. No one. Where did they come from?

That unease I’d felt earlier crept right back inside my soul.

Worrying my lip, I locked the door and hurried up the sidewalk to the street. The Porsche was parked behind the Mercedes, but there were no signs of anything or anyone unusual.

Today I was taking the Mercedes and as I rushed toward it, my mind was whirling. What I knew about black roses came from reading books and watching movies. Possibly total folklore, they meant to symbolize a warning for something like an impending death or a plot for revenge. Were these left for me or were they a prank by some neighborhood goth kid who dabbed black food coloring in his grandmother’s rose garden? I tried calling Logan to tell him about it but the call went right to voicemail. I hung up. I was being silly. I’d tell him about it later.

I eased down the accelerator. Was it just my imagination, or could I smell the woodsy, pine-like smell of the outdoors in the car? I glanced around. Nothing. Odd. I was really losing it.

Driving fast, it still seemed to take me forever to get to Michael’s. As I pulled onto his street, I looked in the rearview mirror and told myself I had to focus on what was important. I had to be brave. For Clementine.

I parked out front and double-checked that the thumb drive was still in the pocket of my black palazzo pants. I’d selected an outfit where the pants were loose and the top sheer so as to hide any evidence of what I was carrying on my body and draw attention up to the top. It wasn’t the best plan, but I also hoped it wasn’t one that was needed. Hopefully, Michael would stay at work during my weekly breakfast date with Clementine—he always had. But then again, he hadn’t propositioned me before now and wasn’t awaiting an answer, either.

Knock. Knock.

I didn’t want to scare Mrs. R and just go on in. This was her first week and she was still learning the ropes. In fact, I hoped Michael had reminded her to give Clementine only a small snack until I arrived.

There was no answer and I knocked again.

For some odd reason, I started to sweat even though it was cold outside.

The lock finally gave way and I felt a swoosh of relief. The door swung open and Mrs. R stood before me in her plain taupe pants, white blouse, and practical shoes. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She was very proper. Like an English nanny. I both liked and disliked the idea of it. I wanted Clementine to have the freedom to express herself while understanding the rights and wrongs of the world. I wasn’t certain Mrs. R would allow for the former, but at least I knew I would.

She moved aside. “Good morning, Miss Sterling. Clementine has been waiting for you.”

I stepped inside. “How’s everything going with her?”

“Very well. Thank you for asking.”

I had the oddest feeling that I was like a stranger to her. Of course she didn’t know me, but still, she knew I was a part of Clementine’s life. When I’d first met her, I thought she would be ideal for Clementine, but maybe my state of mind wasn’t exactly in top shape then because today she seemed cool, aloof. It was as if she didn’t like me for some reason.

“Mommy!” Clementine called, barreling toward me at toddling speed with her juice cup in her hand.