He went on to instruct her to set up a meeting for Saturday at his house. It had to be Saturday, he said, because he was flying out first thing Sunday on business and wouldn’t be back for a week. He’d send separate town cars for her and for Leo at two o’clock, to transport them up to Connecticut, and he’d arrange for the cars to take them back later.
His instructions were businesslike, his tone void of emotion.
She recognized the air of detached efficiency; she herself adopted it whenever she was working, making arrangements for upcoming events.
But this wasn’t just an event, she told herself as she rummaged in a drawer for a tube of lipstick.
Saturday’s meeting loomed as a life-altering milestone.
You’d think he’d have exhibited a little more awareness of that.
Leo certainly had, when she’d called him minutes ago to spring it on him.
His voice had radiated enthusiasm, especially when she told him that his father was sending a car for him.
“Is he rich, then?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she lied.
She had discerned from Wyatt’s appearance, from what he told her about his business, and from what she knew about where he lived, that he was rich.
There-she plucked a soft pink lipstick from the drawer, bypassing the red one Isaac had once complimented her on when she wore it.
She was meeting him for a drink tonight, but she wasn’t trying to impress him. Not these days.
Wyatt was a different story, though. She’d taken great care with her appearance the morning they met. She wondered if he had done the same or if he always dressed so elegantly.
Maybe he did. He had to travel in fancy circles these days.
The money had changed Wyatt outwardly, but she could tell, even from the brief time they’d spent together, that it hadn’t changed him inwardly.
He hadn’t lost his sensitive core that had captivated her twenty years ago, would captivate her still, if he’d let her in.
He was going to…
She could tell. Before she dropped the news on him, his walls were coming down. He was making her laugh, trying to put her at ease…
Then I went and ruined everything.
Not that she’d had a choice. She had to tell him; that was why she’d contacted him. He wasn’t going to pretend they were merely catching up; he knew there was something on her mind.
Right, but he thought it was something else.
Would it help if I told you I felt the same way? he had asked.
I never expected that to happen that night. And when you took off afterward, I figured you weren’t interested in someone like me. So I kept it all to myself…
Kept all what to himself? His feelings? He had feelings for her?
She couldn’t help wondering, in the moments before everything fell apart between them, whether there was actually a glimmer of hope.
Was there some way she and Wyatt could-
The ringing of the telephone shattered that thought.
She swiftly finished outlining her lips, set aside her lipstick, and hurried to answer it, checking her watch on the way. Lost in her reverie about Wyatt, she had taken too long to get ready. Now she was late-only by a couple of minutes, but it was probably Isaac on the phone, wondering if she’d forgotten.
“Hey, stranger,” a female voice greeted her.
“Who-oh my God! Aurora?”
“Hey, very good! But would you have known it was me if Kristen hadn’t told you I was going to be calling?”
Truth be told, she had forgotten all about that.
“Are you in New York, Aurora?” she asked, remembering what Kristen had said about their friend’s travel plans. That conversation seemed so long ago.
“Yup, we just got here. Gosh, it’s huge. I’ve wanted to see it all my life, and now here I am. I just wish Eddie could have come, too.”
“Why didn’t he?”
Aurora launched into a brief description of her husband’s duties back home, holding down the fort and shuttling their other kids to their activities.
“He complains, but he’s a great daddy. He’s loved every minute of it. He cried harder than anyone at Tina’s wedding.”
“I’ll bet.” Lindsay found herself thinking of Wyatt again.
She’d never even given him a chance to be a great daddy. And he might very well have been.
But it was too late now.
Their son was grown.
Wyatt had been robbed.
“So when can we get together?” Aurora asked. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Actually, I’m supposed to be somewhere right now.”
“Hmm…tomorrow, then? Or Saturday? We wanted to see a Broadway show, but we don’t have tickets yet. Everything we want to see is sold out.”
“This is a busy time of year,” Lindsay told her. “But what did you want to see? Maybe I can pull some strings.”
“Are you serious?”
Lindsay grinned, noting that Aurora sounded like her old animated self. “Sure. Just tell me which shows you’re interested in, and I’ll try to get a pair of tickets. They might not be the greatest seats, but-”
“Are you kidding, Linds? Any seats would be great. You’re such a doll to do this.”
Linds.
There it was again-the affectionate old nickname that was such a stark reminder of the girl she used to be.
Nobody called her that now. Strange, because shortening somebody’s name was a natural thing to do when you were close to someone.
Then again, nobody was as close to her as those girls-her high-school friends-had once been. You didn’t bond that intensely with others as a grown woman; there wasn’t enough time in the day as it was. And anyway, you weren’t in a phase of your life where you were insecure and dependent on other people.
But you still needed friends.
And Lindsay was more conscious now than ever of the loneliness in her life.
Maybe it’s not just about longing for friends.
Maybe what you need is a different kind of companionship. Something more lasting. More…
Passionate.
Again, Wyatt Goddard popped into her head.
No, he had never really left. Thoughts of him were always there now, lurking just beyond her consciousness, ready to intrude at any given moment.
Hmm…it was really turning out to be quite a week for Lindsay Farrell when it came to catching up with old friends, the killer thought.
First Kristen, then Wyatt, and now Lindsay had just agreed to a Friday night dinner date with Aurora.
She’d even sounded enthusiastic when she agreed with Aurora’s request that they dine at Sardi’s, one of the most touristy restaurants in town, over in the theater district.
But then, she always was a fake and a liar, so what do you expect?
She checked her watch, wondering where Lindsay was off to now. She’d said she was meeting an old friend.
It couldn’t be Wyatt, could it?
No. She’d had Lindsay’s phone tapped all week, and as far as she knew, the only contact she’d had with him had been in messages. They weren’t supposed to see each other until Saturday, when they had their little family reunion up in Connecticut.
A plan was already forming in her mind for that special occasion.
A daring plan, and one that deviated pretty drastically from her vow not to harm anyone other than the targets on her original list.
But now that the idea had sparked, it was pretty hard to ignore.
It was the perfect way to get to Lindsay, to make her suffer what people-some people, anyway-considered to be “a fate worse than death.”
That had been Caroline Marcott’s pathetically wailed phrasing at her son’s wake on that long-ago February day.
Was losing a child really a fate worse than death?
She wouldn’t know.
Maybe she’d soon find out, though. Through Lindsay.
Yes, she’d see that Lindsay suffered that so-called fate worse then death-and then she would suffer death itself.
And then we’ll decide which was worse, she thought.
Oh, wait a minute, Lindsay…you won’t be around for that part.