If We Never Met by Barbara Freethy
Chapter Twenty-Four
Keira sighedwhen she opened the door to find Dante on the porch. She'd just gotten home and had hoped not to have a conversation with him tonight. "I know I owe you a text. It's been really busy. I'm not ignoring you."
"Yes, you are," he said bluntly. "And you do owe me a text, but that's not why I'm here."
She looked at him in surprise. "Why are you here then?"
"Mark's room was vandalized at the inn. It was completely trashed, with threatening words written on the wall: YOU WILL PAY. Mark's clothes were shredded. It's bad, Keira."
Her eyes widened, her stomach churning at his words. "That's crazy. You think it was Mandy?"
"I know it was. I saw her leave his room. Where's your mom?"
"She's not here. She left me a text saying she and Mark went for a drive."
"You should call her, ask her to come home now, but don't tell her why."
She frowned and waved him into the house. Then she walked over to the table in the entry to get her phone. "I don't know that she'll come home if I don't say why."
"You can't tip her off."
"Why not?"
"Because we don't know what's happening, and if she's with Mark, it would just be better if he didn't know what was going on until the police are talking to him."
"The police are involved?"
"Yes. Lizzie called Adam. She also called Mark, but he didn't answer. I know Adam is going to look for Mark, but if your mother is with him, and you can get him to bring her home, then we can get her here before we get into anything else."
"You're scaring me a little."
"Sorry. I don't think your mom is in danger. The crazy woman is clearly after Mark."
"And we need to know why," she said with new determination in her voice. She called her mom. For a moment, she thought it was going to voicemail, but then her mom's voice came across the line.
"Hi, Keira. What's up?" her mom asked, a light note in her voice. Nothing sounded wrong. That was a good sign.
"I was wondering if you're almost home. I really need to talk to you."
"Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong, just concerning. I know you're out with Mark, but I have to speak to you. It's important."
"What's this about, honey?"
She searched wildly for a reason that might make sense. As her gaze lit on Dante's attractive face, she had her answer. "It's about Dante. He's leaving sooner than I thought, and I need your advice."
"Okay, well, we were heading back anyway. We picked up a pizza if you're hungry. Mark was hoping you might be around."
"Great. He's welcome to come in and stay for dinner. I just need a few minutes with you alone, if he doesn't mind."
"Of course not, and I'm glad that will work out. I've wanted us all to sit down together."
"See you soon." She looked at Dante. "Sorry I mentioned you. I needed an excuse."
"I figured."
"They're on their way back from picking up a pizza. They'll be here soon."
"Good. I'm going to stay."
She nodded. Their eyes met, their gazes clinging together, unspoken words and emotions flowing between them.
"Why were you avoiding me today?" he asked.
She sucked in a quick breath. She wanted to evade the question, but he wasn't going to let her get away with that, so she decided to be honest. "I think it might be better if we didn't see each other anymore."
"We had a good time last night. We have a good time every time we're together."
"But our time is ending, and frankly, I'm not handling it very well."
His gaze softened. "Keira, I know this is difficult."
"It is, but it shouldn't be. I went into this knowing it was a short-term thing, a summer fling—fun, easy, and forgettable."
"I never thought it was going to be forgettable."
"Well, it turns out it won't be, at least not for me. I got too emotionally involved, and I know myself, Dante. It's not going to get easier the more time we spend together. We should just smile and wish each other well."
A cloud of dark shadows filled his gaze. "I'm here until Saturday. Do you really want to waste the time we have left?"
"I do and I don't. I've been conflicted all day, which is why I didn't text you back. But now that you're standing in front of me, I know the answer."
He met her gaze and his lips tightened. "And the answer is we're done."
"Yes. I had a good time with you. The only regret I have is that we don't have more time. But I'm really glad I sat down at your table and thought you were my date."
"Me, too. I wish you'd change your mind."
"I know, but it wouldn't be the same. The end would just be looming over us."
She could see he wanted to argue. Dante was the kind of man who got what he wanted. But a car pulled up out front. Her mother and Mark had arrived.
She opened the front door as they made their way into the house with two large pizza boxes and a bottle of wine. Her mother looked at Dante in surprise.
"I didn't know you were here, Dante."
"I just arrived," he said.
"I hope you'll stay for pizza," Mark said, as they all walked toward the kitchen. "We got plenty."
When they entered the kitchen, Mark set down the pizzas and offered to open the wine.
"That sounds good," her mother told Mark. "I know Keira needs to speak to me for a few minutes. You and Dante can entertain each other while we're gone."
"No need for that," she said. "We all need to talk.”
Her mother gave her a confused look. "About what?"
"Let's sit down at the table." She pulled out a chair and sat down as the others did the same.
"This isn't about Dante, is it?" her mother asked.
"No, it's about Mark," she replied, her gaze moving from her mom to Mark.
He looked straight back at her. "All right," he said. "I'm happy to talk about whatever you want to discuss."
"Well, I'm not," her mom said with a look of annoyance on her face. "Keira. I told you I would talk to Mark on my own."
"Have you?" she challenged.
"Not yet, but I will."
"Well, time has run out. Dante, why don't you tell Mark what happened at the inn?"
"At the inn?" Mark echoed.
"Your room was vandalized tonight," Dante said. "Lizzie left you a message. The police also want to talk to you. Didn't you get those calls?"
"I saw a couple of voicemails, but I was driving. I didn't have time to listen to them. What happened to my room?"
"I ran into the woman you were arguing with a few days ago in the hallway outside your room. She gave me an odd look and then ran down the stairs. I noticed your door was still ajar, so I went over to let you know. When I opened the door, I realized the room had been trashed. There was a threatening message on the wall that said: YOU WILL PAY. I got Lizzie. She called her brother, who is a police detective, and I'm sure they're both trying to reach you."
Mark had paled during Dante's explanation. He pulled out his phone. "Yes, I have several voicemails. I should listen to them."
"Before you do that, you need to tell us who this woman is and why she's threatening you," Keira said.
"Keira," her mother interrupted. "This is Mark's business, not ours."
"This woman could be dangerous, Mom. You're spending time with Mark, and he's someone's target. I don't want you to get hurt. Mark needs to decide if he wants to see you and tell us the truth, or if he wants to leave and take care of his own business. But I'm not going to stand by and do nothing." She blew out a breath, knowing she'd probably overstepped, too, but she didn't care.
"Keira is right," Mark said, turning to her mother. "I believed I could handle the situation, Ruth, like I've done in the past, but Mandy is in a bad place. I thought she left town yesterday. She promised me she was leaving, but apparently that didn't happen."
"When did she promise?" Dante asked. "Was it after she scratched your car? We both know that's who did it."
"Yes, it was after that," Mark admitted. "I met with Mandy, and I told her that the police were getting involved, that she was captured on the security camera, and that I would only stop her from being charged if she left town. She said she would go."
"Who is this woman?" Keira asked. "What does she want you to pay for?"
"A long time ago, fifteen years now, there was a fire at my home. I was out of town with my wife and son. But our nanny, Gretchen, was in the house, and she died in the fire. She was Mandy's sister."
"Why does Mandy blame you for that if you weren't even there?" Dante asked.
"It's a long story."
"It's time to tell it," Keira said.
Mark's lips tightened, but then he gave a short nod. "All right. I will tell you the story. I didn't know until months after the fire that my wife had left our vacation rental and gone back to the house to talk to Gretchen. She did it in the middle of the night, and she was back before the police called early the next morning."
Her pulse leapt at his response. "Your wife set the fire?"
"I need to back up," Mark said. "You have to understand the context of what was going on."
"Take your time," her mother encouraged.
He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ruth. My wife, Valerie, had mental health issues, some of which she took medication for. But when she would go off the meds, she would become unbalanced, paranoid, and unpredictable. I knew things were getting rocky with her, which is why I suggested a weekend away at the beach. We went to Malibu. It was less than an hour away from our house, but she loved the water, and I thought it would calm her down. I wanted us to reconnect as a family. When she was off her meds, she barely paid attention to our son, Richard. I knew that he was feeling neglected."
Mark cleared his throat. "That night," he continued, "Valerie started a fight with me. She accused me of having an affair with Gretchen, which was not true. I was not involved with the nanny, and I told Valerie that several times. She said she was so angry she was going to sleep in the extra bedroom. I didn't question it. I was relieved to have a break. I didn't want to fight with her, and I especially didn't want to do it in front of Richard. But sometime that night, after I went to bed, she took the car and drove back to the house. She later told me that she woke Gretchen up and made her come downstairs. Gretchen also denied anything was going on, and she apparently went back up the stairs while Valerie decided to drink and smoke cigarettes in the living room. At some point, Valerie left the house, but she also left her cigarette in the couch and it started the fire. There was a bottle of alcohol on the cushions and that blew up the fire. The police thought that Gretchen had been drinking and smoking before she went upstairs and that she had no idea what happened. She died in her bed."
"That's awful," her mother said, putting a comforting hand on Mark's arm.
"You said you didn't find this out for months," Keira interrupted, not wanting her mother to get Mark off track. "How is that possible?"
"Valerie was asleep in the guest room when I got the call about the fire," he replied. "I woke her up. She was disoriented. I dropped her and Richard off with Valerie's sister when I went to the house and spoke to the police. Later that day, when I got back to my sister-in-law's house, she said that Valerie was having a breakdown. I got her to the hospital, where she was admitted. I think she had tremendous guilt, and it was eating her up inside, so she couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything. She was basically catatonic. She was in a psychiatric facility for eight months before she finally started to come back to life. And then she started telling me stories about the fire. I honestly didn't know if they were true or not. I just knew that I had to protect my son. I divorced Valerie, and I took Richard to San Francisco. To this day, he blames me for taking him away from his mother and also for abandoning her when she was sick. But I didn't do that. I paid for her to get help for ten years after that. I wanted her to get better, but I couldn't have her around Richard unless she was stable."
"That makes sense," her mom said. "You had to protect your child."
"Why didn't you go to the police?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell them what Valerie did?"
His eyes turned bleak. "It had been almost a year since it happened, and I didn't even know if Valerie was telling me the truth. Or if she'd made up another story in her head."
"There was no proof that she went to the house that night?" Dante asked.
"None. We didn't have a security camera. None of our neighbors did, either. It was the middle of the night. I read the police report. No one came forward saying they'd seen anything. There was also no camera at the house in Malibu where we were staying. I suppose there might have been some way the police could have checked traffic cameras to see if our car was caught on any, but I didn't want to put Valerie or my son through an investigation that wouldn't change anything. Maybe that was wrong. But I just wanted to take Richard away from it all."
"Let's get back to Mandy," Dante interjected. "When did she find out that your wife set the fire? And why didn't she go to the police?"
"Mandy found out six years ago. My wife was sick, dying from cancer. She decided it was time to pay for her sins, so she told Mandy. She wanted to cleanse her soul."
"And then Mandy started blackmailing you," Keira guessed.
"Yes," he said, meeting her gaze. "Mandy threatened to go to the police and also to tell my son that his mother was a murderer. Valerie was finally in a better space. Richard was a freshman in college. He was actually happy. The truth would have destroyed them both, so I paid. It eased my guilt, too, to be honest. But Mandy wanted more and more and more. Right before I moved here, I told Mandy I was done paying her. My son is twenty-four now. He's an adult. He has his own life, and if he finds out the truth now, hopefully, he can handle it." Mark turned to her mother. "I was going to tell you, Ruth. But every time we were together, it was so much fun; I didn't want it to end, and I thought it might if you knew I was dealing with a blackmailer."
"Mandy came to this house," Keira put in. "You didn't think she could be a problem for my mother?"
Surprise filled his eyes. "She came here? When?"
"Sunday," her mother answered. "I assume it was her. There was a red-haired woman sitting in a car outside of the house."
"She must have been following me around this week. I never saw her. I'm sorry, Ruth. I should have told you."
"I can understand why you didn't," her mother said.
Keira sucked in a sharp breath as her mother let Mark off the hook. "I can't," she said harshly.
"It was complicated," her mother said, giving her a pointed look, then gazing back at Mark. "And it was part of your past."
"But Mandy isn't in the past," she interjected, bringing their attention back to her. "She's causing trouble. And we don’t know if she's done."
"Keira is right," Dante said. "Mandy cut up your clothes, Mark. There was a personal vindictiveness to her destruction. You need to tell the police everything you told us."
"I agree. I'll do that now." Mark got to his feet. "I'm going to step into the other room."
As Mark left, Keira looked at her mom. "Do you believe he told us the whole story?"
"Yes. I believed every word," her mother said, without a trace of doubt in her eyes. "Didn't you?"
"I don’t know," she admitted.
"You do know. You heard what he had to say. You just don't want to let go of your suspicions because you don't want him to be with me," her mother said sharply.
Was her mother right? Was she holding onto her suspicions for that reason? "I do want you to be happy, Mom, but I still think you should be careful. We don't know if this is Mark's only secret."
"I believe it is." She stood up. "I'm going to check on Mark."
She looked at Dante as her mom headed down the hall. "What do you think? You're probably the most objective person in this situation."
Dante gave her a thoughtful look. "I'm inclined to believe him."
"So it's two against one."
"Is it?" he challenged.
She sighed. "Maybe not. It's a bizarre story, but it felt true. I wouldn't mind hearing Mandy's side. I hope Adam can catch her."
"She won't be able to move around so freely now that the police are looking for her. She knows I saw her come out of Mark's room, so her best bet would be to leave town and disappear."
"I would think so, too, but she seems determined to get him to pay. Maybe she thinks he will do so now that she's shown the lengths to which she's willing to go."
"In which case, she'll contact him, and I'm sure the police will use him to get to her."
"Good point." As the doorbell rang, she added, "That must be Adam. I want to hear what he has to say."
"So do I. Is it okay if I stay?"
"Sure," she said, as they stood up. "But when Mark leaves, you need to leave, too."
He met her gaze. "I know. I got the message. We're over."
She let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, yes. But we shouldn't think of it as a bad thing. It's only happening because your arm is better. I am happy for you, Dante. It might not look that way, but I want you to have your life back. I really do."
"Thanks. That means a lot."
"And we had fun, so…" She drew in a shaky breath. "That's what I'm going to remember."
Shadows filled his gaze. "I hope that's what you remember, because I never wanted to hurt you."
"You didn't," she said. And she meant it. Because he hadn't hurt her; she'd hurt herself by falling for a man who was always going to say goodbye.