One
My shoes felt like they were made of lead as I climbed the steps to our front door. I was suddenly utterly drained. Dazed by the ordeal of pushing a million dollars under a ferry seat, I numbly recognized that it wasn't over yet. Still, I wanted to go up to my childhood room and pull the covers over my head like I used to do when I was eight years old. Everyone knows nothing can harm you when the covers are pulled up all the way.
Tristan was waiting for me when I reached the top of the flight. He gathered me into his arms and I wept quietly onto his strong chest. In spite of everything, the warmth and the scent of him was as much of a homecoming as standing at my parents' door.
"It's okay, now. It's done. We won't have to wait long, I know it." His words sounded so sure. As he enveloped me in his embrace, I wanted to believe him. More than anything I wanted to accept that if he said it, it must be so. He kissed my throbbing temples and pressed his lips to my forehead before we joined my father and the entourage of cops, plainclothes agents, bodyguards and private eyes all waiting for the safe return of my mother, Marjorie Harding, beloved wife and cherished mother.
Tristan was right, again and as usual. Mom trundled up the steps a few short minutes after I got home. I think everyone was a little surprised. They must have held her somewhere close to the house. I watched her fall into my father's arms to cry and be cradled much as I had done with Tristan just moments before. The similarity made me inexplicably sad.
I gave them a moment before I claimed my mother's hug and we both boo-hoo'ed with relief and release. "Mom, I was so worried. Are you okay? Did they treat you okay?"
My resilient mother smiled at me. "Raina, as kidnappings go, that was probably not a bad one." She turned to the group of men who had politely hung back to give her time with family before the barrage of questions came. "You all might as well hear what I have to say. I have to admit I'm a bit exhausted so I'd like to get this over with, if you don't mind."
Tristan guided me to the couch and sat down beside me. He reached onto my lap to clasp my hand in his. I hung on to the strength of it. I had no choice.
"Gentlemen, I was blindfolded and taken for a long ride. There were many, many turns. I could have been going around the block or I could have been taken anywhere within an hour's ride of here. I heard the sound of bridges underneath the car, and I heard lots of traffic some of the time and little at others. I don't think that the car I was in ever got on an expressway." George put a glass of water in front of her and she gratefully took a long draw from the glass.
"The men who took me didn't talk much at all along the way. Until I reached the place they held me, I remained blindfolded. When the blindfold was removed, I was in a windowless room with a table and chair, a cot and a bathroom with a sink and toilet--no shower. A young lady took care of me while I was there. I calculate by the number of meals that it was three days." Several of her listeners nodded. "I can give you a detailed description of the girl later; I had plenty of chances to study her face. They fed me really good Italian food and the young lady was extremely polite. This morning, I was blindfolded once again, taken from the room and back into the car. And, again, I think we rode around for about an hour. If the route was the same, I don't know."
She turned and took my father's hand. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take my husband upstairs where he is going to wait for me to take a long hot shower. Then I am going to get in my bed and rest in his arms until I feel up to answering your questions."
Mom didn't wait for a response. She led my father up the stairs, hand in hand, just like I had seen them a thousand times. Tristan squeezed my hand and leaned close to whisper in my ear. "We're going to go and do the same."
"Tristan, I can't leave this house right now!"
"I think Marjorie deserves some time alone. There's no reason she and Don can't have a few hours of peace." He turned to the group of men now at loose ends. "I think you've gotten all the evidence from here that you're going to find. Leave the security to my men and Archie will call you when Mrs. Harding is ready to talk in more detail." I think the cops were happy to take his suggestion. These were not men who enjoyed sitting around waiting.
He turned to Archie and the Laotian bodyguards. "Can you fellow make yourselves fairly invisible? You know what I mean." The men nodded. "Archie, call me when you hear from Mrs. Harding and we'll take it from there. Kwan, bring the car around."
"It's right outside the door, boss."
It wasn't lost on me that even in a group of tough NYPD officers, FBI agents, deadly bodyguards and a private eye, Tristan took control and no one questioned him.
He took my hand and guided me out the door and down the steps. I kept looking over my shoulder toward the door expecting to see my mother and father calling me back inside. But at that moment, the only person either of them was thinking about was the other. I understood.
"Your parents are so lucky to have one another," Tristan remarked as we settled into the back seat of the waiting car.
"They have a rare bond," I agreed. I wanted to talk about love. I wanted to talk about the decision I had made on the way back from the pier in the taxi. I wanted to suck up the guts to tell him that I couldn't be happy with him, not in the way I wanted to be happy. The kind of happy my parents had.
"I think we have a rare bond. Perhaps not the same kind of bond, but unique all the same." Tristan had a way of sensing my thoughts and setting up a pre-emptive argument. Usually, but not always that included an element of seduction. He knew exactly how to use the fact that I found him compellingly irresistible to move us to safer ground. Not that I found sex with him safe. Tristan had shown me time and again that he could get me to expose my most intimate self. He had also demonstrated a talent for taking me to daring heights I could not have anticipated.
He stretched his legs out in front of him, cat-like, and placed a hand on mine. His skin glowed with our recent days in the sun, tawny as a Siamese. I was emotionally exhausted and the small gesture was comforting. The bond we shared had seen me through my mother's ordeal and I knew I should be grateful for having had Tristan beside me.
I closed my eyes and he held my hand on as Kwan meandered across the river and into the bustle of Manhattan. When we reached Tristan's apartment he offered me a hot bath.
"A good long soak will do you good. I'll pop out for a few moments and pick up some lunch." He practically forced me into his master bathroom and handed me a stack of fluffy towels. "After lunch, if you're up to it, I think we should talk."