understand, things happen. I’m available for another thirty minutes, but I do have another appointment at three. Did you want to try calling Dr. Tao again? Or do you want to go ahead and sign off on the preparations? There are only a few minor things left to be decided, and I’m sure between the two of us we can handle it. Worse comes to worst, she can call me tomorrow and make changes.”
Morris didn’t know what to do. Sheila had planned everything and he had no idea what she wanted or didn’t want. Other than the fittings for his tuxedo, he’d been content to sign the checks and let her do all the work.
“I’ll try her again,” he said. “Though I don’t think her phone’s even on.”
“Would she have left a message with you somewhere else?” The woman’s tone was polite, but her unnatural smile remained.
“I’m not usually at the office on Sundays.” Morris thought for a moment. “But I suppose it’s possible.”
Carmen Khan stifled a sigh. “Well, I have to make a call myself anyhow. Why don’t I meet you back here in five minutes? If you can’t reach her, I suppose we could reschedule for Tuesday, though that really is cutting it close.”
Morris agreed, and Ms. Khan walked away briskly. When she was out of sight, he pressed speed dial number two on his phone to call Sheila’s BlackBerry. But just as the previous three tries, it went straight to voice mail. He had no choice but to leave another message.
“Honey, it’s me again. It’s two thirty-three now. The wedding woman is getting pissy. She’s got a stick up her ass something awful, and I’m scared she’s gonna combust if you don’t get here soon. We can reschedule for Tuesday, so if I don’t hear from you in the next five minutes, that’s what I’m gonna do. Call me.” He hesitated, then added, “I love you. If you’re scared to see me, don’t be. We’re gonna be okay.”
He paced the room with his phone clutched in his fist, willing it to ring. It didn’t. He called her house one more time, then checked his voice mail at the bank. Nothing.
He saw Carmen Khan striding toward him and decided he might as well make one last call to his own house. Maybe there’d be something on his answering machine there. Not likely, because Sheila knew he’d be here at the Fairmont, but it was worth a shot.
It took a second to remember what buttons to push. He was surprised to find there were two messages. The first was from Pietro, the Italian tailor, letting him know his suit was ready.
As it turned out, the second message was from Sheila. It was time-stamped-she’d left it ten minutes ago. Morris breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. She’d probably pressed the wrong speed-dial button on her BlackBerry. But his relief evaporated instantly when he realized she was crying, sobbing so hard he could barely understand her.
“Morris. It’s me. I… I’m so sorry. I’m not coming. You and I both know this marriage would be a huge mistake.”
Morris stopped breathing. Had he heard her right? There was a long pause before she continued.
“We both know I need to get help. There’s a treatment center I can go to. It’s out of state, and I’ll be gone for a couple of months. Or longer, I’m not sure. Morris, I might not come back to Seattle. I need you to… cancel the wedding. I’m sorry to leave it to you, but I just can’t bear to deal with it right now.”
Another crackling pause. Where the hell was she calling from, a cave? Morris’s heart was beating so hard he felt dizzy.
“In time I hope you can… forgive me.” She was full out sobbing by this point. “I’m taking a leave of absence from the university. Please don’t follow me or look for me. Respect my decision. If you ever loved me, you’ll let me go and move on with your life. I’m sorry, Morris. Take care of yourself.”
Her last words were barely a whisper and he could hardly hear them over the blood pulsing in his temples. He couldn’t have heard her right. He replayed the message again, unable to process that she was, indeed, leaving him.
“Everything okay, Mr. Gardener?” Carmen Khan said at his elbow. Her face was a picture of concern, but her dark, perfectly made-up eyes revealed her impatience.
Morris turned to face the woman, scarcely able to believe the words he was about to say.
“The wedding’s off,” he said hoarsely. “It’s canceled.”
The wedding planner’s eyes widened in alarm. “I-I’m sorry to hear that. Are you certain?” She placed a hand on his arm.
Morris moved away from her. He didn’t want to be touched. “Truth be told, I’m not sure.” He felt deranged. “We’re having… problems.” He couldn’t think of how else to phrase it.
Carmen stared at him a moment longer before consulting her clipboard. “The wedding’s not till Saturday. We can sign off today assuming it’s a go and give it a couple days.” She hesitated. “The thing is, Mr. Gardener, everything’s already been reserved. You’ve already paid the deposit for the room and the food, and it can’t be refunded. Same goes for the DJ and the photographer. If there’s any chance you two might…” She noticed Morris wasn’t listening.
“Mr. Gardener.” She touched his arm again.
He jerked his arm away and looked down at her. She instinctively stepped back.
“Mr. Gardener, if you cancel the wedding today, you’ll lose a lot of money. I don’t know if you realize how much-”
“Cancel it.”
“But I really think-”
“Cancel it.”
Carmen Khan pressed her clipboard to her chest and nodded. “I’m very sorry.”
Morris watched her walk away, her four-inch heels soundless on the thick carpet. “So am I,” he said quietly to no one.
CHAPTER 19
S omething was around her neck that hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep. Reflexively, Sheila pawed at it.
“Easy,” Ethan said. “You’ll break it.”
She opened her eyes. Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed, blocking her view of the TV, but she could hear Anderson Cooper’s voice recounting the day’s top stories. She had no idea how long Ethan had been here. Her captor was watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Her head groggy, Sheila touched her neck again, rattling her chains. He’d put some kind of necklace on her while she was sleeping, and she pulled it away from her so she could see it better. It took a few seconds for her vision to clear, and when it did, she saw a silver amulet on a leather string. Engraved on it were symbols she didn’t recognize.
“It’s Apache,” he said. “From New Mexico. Something to ward off evil spirits. I got it from a friend.”
She stared at him through her brain fog. “Are you being ironic?”
“It doesn’t quite match the diamond bracelet Morris gave you,” Ethan said, his voice sly. “But it looks good on you still.”
He was thinking about the tennis bracelet Morris had given her? Why in the world would he be thinking about that? The bracelet was at home, locked up in the small vault in her bedroom closet, safe and sound. Unlike her engagement ring. She was still too scared to ask what he’d done with it.
Her bare legs felt cold. He’d taken her jeans off a couple of days before, and all she was wearing was her sweater, stained and rank from her own body odor and covered in dried particles of food. As if sensing her discomfort, Ethan pulled the blanket over her legs. He looked tired. His eyes were rimmed with red, and new lines were on his forehead and around his mouth. A small red pimple on his cheek marred his complexion, and he’d cut himself shaving.
It confused her. If he’d kidnapped women before-and of course he had, this entire room was built for it-then what was he stressing about?
She needed him to talk to her. She had so many questions and they were gnawing at her the same way the steel handcuffs were eating into her wrists.
