He’d be on his way to a second divorce before the sun rose again or know the reason why.
TWO HOURS LATER he had a set of instructions from his lawyer on how to proceed and the man’s assurance that the problem could be easily solved.
Lana, dialing from one of her three cell phones, had a similar set from her lawyer.
“At least the two of you are in agreement about the divorce,” Duncan’s lawyer had said to him. “Quick and uncomplicated.”
“With the emphasis on the former,” Duncan had almost growled into the phone.
“As far as I can tell, darling, we can get this straightened out within a month,” Lana said, obviously enjoying his annoyance.
“I’m going upstairs to tell Samantha.”
He almost collided with Robby in the hallway.
“She’s gone,” Robby said. “I didn’t want to tell you but Mag worries so.”
Duncan stopped on the first step and looked at the older man. “Who’s gone?”
“Your missus,” Robby said, his narrow face pinched with worry. “She went to move the Other One’s car two hours ago and we have not seen her since.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t seen her since?”
“The Other One blocked the caterer’s car and Mag asked your missus if she’d be so kind to move it out of the way. Your missus is a sweet one and she said she would. The last we saw she was driving off down the road, happy as you please.”
“Have you checked the bedroom?”
Robby’s cheeks flamed bright red. “And what kind of man would you think I am?”
Duncan took the stairs two at a time. He threw open the bedroom door, praying he’d find Samantha asleep in bed, but the room was empty and silent. He went downstairs again and opened the top drawer of the desk where she kept her purse. His blood ran cold when he saw that it was missing. A woman didn’t need her driver’s license and credit cards to back a car down the driveway. But she would need those things if she had something more permanent in mind.
“I want you to call the police, Robby,” he said as he strode toward the library. “Tell them Samantha is missing.”
Lana, who was standing in the doorway to the library, glared at him over a tumbler of whiskey. “Missing?” she asked. “Don’t you mean gone?”
“I don’t have time for your nonsense,” he said. “I have calls to make.” He’d phone everyone in town, if necessary, on the chance that one of them might have seen Samantha.
“Just a minute here,” Lana said. “Did I hear what the old man said correctly? She stole my car. I hope you won’t forget to tell the police that small fact when you call them.”
“Your car will show up when it shows up. It’s my wife I’m worried about.”
“Dare I remind you that she’s not your wife and won’t be until we settle this business between us. Right now that car is a great deal more important to me than your runaway woman.”
“Samantha is missing,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. “I’d throw ten of your cars into Loch Glenraven if it meant getting her back.” And if Lana was in one of them, so much the better. She didn’t give a damn that Sam had gone missing. All she cared about was her rental car. Her friend Bryce, however, remained singularly unmoved by anything that was happening around them and sat, napping, in the wing chair.
“Good choice,” Duncan said, tilting his head in Bryce’s direction. “You should be able to handle that one.”
“Bryce and I are marrying because we love each other,” Lana said. She managed to sound righteously indignant. “Not because he got me pregnant.”
“Take care, woman,” he said, barely restraining his anger. “What I share with Samantha is none of your concern.”
“You got what you wanted this time, didn’t you, Duncan? A broodmare to give you a child.”
“By all that’s holy, if you continue with this talk I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
“I told her about you, you know,” Lana said. “This obsession of yours with children seems to have worsened over the years. I must say, Samantha seemed to find it enlightening.”
“Did you tell her the whole story?” Rage filled his throat like hot, acrid smoke. “The way it really happened?”
“I told her the part she needed to know.”
He saw Lana down through the prism of years and wondered how it was he’d ever loved her. Her beauty was born of selfishness and anger. Samantha’s beauty was born of kindness and hope. When he was a younger man he might not have understood the distinction. Now that he was approaching the midpoint of life, it meant everything.
He reached for the telephone and was about to punch in a number when he was struck by a thought.
“Where did you go when we broke up?” he asked Lana without preamble.
She frowned slightly. “To Rome, I think. Filming was about to start and—”
“Before Rome,” he interrupted. “I’m talking about the day our marriage ended.” That night of despair and broken dreams.
“I went home to my mother.”
He stepped out into the hallway and bellowed for Old Mag.
“You’re loud enough to wake the dead, laddie,” she scolded him. “What is it you want?”
“Think back, old woman,” he said. “To the beginning. When you and Robby had a dust-up, where did you go?”
Mag drew herself up to her full height. “I never once left my husband’s house,” she said proudly. “But Robby went home to his mam more than once.”
Sam and her mother weren’t close, but they had been in contact lately. Besides, Julia was her only relative in Great Britain. Where else would she go?
And, more important, how quickly could he get there?
London, later that same night
“SAMANTHA!” Julia peered through the partially open door of her Kensington flat. “What on earth?”
“Are you going to let me in, Mother, or shall I spend what’s left of the night on your doorstep?”
Julia, clutching
