“Miss Claire, come on,” Jemma urged from behind her. “We do what he say.”
“I’ll bet,” Claire muttered. She started to turn away, but her eye caught something else besides the people on the sand with Lexi. A grungy-looking guy with a pronounced limp and stooped posture was following them at a distance. Another guard? But no—it looked like Jace’s body build despite the slouch and lack of well-cut clothes. Still, she couldn’t tell his hair or eye color.
But the closer he got, the clearer the image became and Claire realized, yes, Jace was here! He’d made it and he was close! He’d seen Lexi but at least he knew not to just try to grab her. And he was hanging back, maybe so Lexi wouldn’t see him. Or else he finally saw the power and evil of the man who owned Nightshade—and, right now, owned them.
Claire burst into tears when Lexi came alone into the bedroom with a stuffed green cloth turtle in her arms. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” she cried and ran to her. Claire knelt to her height and covered her face with kisses.
“Are you all right?” Claire asked. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“I was scared when I saw the man wasn’t Daddy. But I’m going to be in your wedding!” she shouted as Claire held her. “But won’t Aunt Darcy and Jilly be mad they can’t come? I asked Mr. Kilcorse if they could, but he said not now because they are going to see friends in Sarasota tomorrow. Isn’t that something that he knew that? Mommy, why are you crying?”
“Just so happy to see you!” Claire choked out, hugging her harder. But she felt even more distraught to realize Ames’s web could extend to her sister and her family.
“I saw the pretty dress I’m going to wear,” Lexi chattered on as Claire held her at arm’s length to look her over. “Oh, there it is on this bed, next to yours, see?” Claire had hardly looked at the stunning pale silk bridal dress lying next to one in a matching color for a flower girl.
“Yes, I see,” was all she managed.
“I like light blue! It fits me good. This turtle is mine too. And Eleanor and Ginger gave me this yellow dress, and Jemma let me eat lots of ice cream.”
“So they treated you really well? The ladies and Mr. Kilcorse too?”
“He said he is kind of Mr. Nick’s uncle. These people you hired are real nice. I didn’t like that man who grabbed me, but he ’splained it all real fast. And guess what? There was a lady named Lucille hiding in the backseat that took good care of me. She talked funny. She said she was from England. We got on an airplane, but not a real big one like Daddy flies. And when we got to the Car-been, and Lucille went back to Florida on another plane, I practiced with your and Mr. Nick’s rings on a pillow for the wedding. Yours has a big diamond, Mommy! Tied with a ribbon, so I won’t drop them, ’cause it’s like a slippery pillow.”
“Yes, yes, fine,” Claire said, finally letting go of her to wipe away tears. So much said. Thank God, they hadn’t hurt her. Ames had someone who resembled Jace. Could that have been him on the beach and not Jace? She bet the woman from England was the one on their plane and at their hotel door. Then there were the two with Lexi on the beach—Eleanor and Ginger. And Jemma. How many guards and spies did Ames have working for him here?
“But did you tell Daddy?” Lexi suddenly demanded, hands on her skinny hips. “I mean about this lope-ment wedding? I like secrets, like Mr. Kilcorse’s name is really Mr. Clayton Ames, ’cause I overheard him talking to another man about that. You know, like in that Disney movie, Mulan. Daddy told me he wants us to be a family again, but we can’t if Mr. Nick is my new daddy, can we? I don’t think my first daddy will be happy!”
Claire’s rising panic kicked up another notch. What else had Lexi overheard here? And if she blurted things out, would Ames try to keep her or silence her?
“Lexi, that’s too much to talk about right now. Later, okay? We’ll talk later.”
Claire hugged her daughter to her. She had Lexi back but at what price for her and Nick? And Jace.
* * *
As Claire stood with Nick under the trellis on the balcony to take their vows, she had to admit that the setting for the wedding was beautiful. And, at least she and Nick were still alive and she—they—had Lexi back and would be able to leave soon. She glanced at Nick standing so close, holding her hand. He looked stoic but fuming. Trying to control her trembling, she gazed out toward the darkness of the night again. The staff had been assembled except for the property guards she’d seen when they first arrived. The so-called celebrant was reading the marriage vows she and Nick repeated. She tried to calm herself, but thoughts and fears ate at her as she responded.
The celebrant was a midsixties, gray-haired, distinguished-looking judge whom Ames—alias Paul Kilcorse—not only knew but seemed quite tight with. So had he really put a fake name over on him, or was the judge on the take like the staff and guards here?
Worse, earlier Claire had learned the other price Nick must pay to get them out of here. Before they had separated to shower and change prior to the ceremony, Nick had stopped her in the hall near the room where Lexi was waiting. He’d whispered, “You know that friend of mine, Chet Hazelton, I told you about on Goodland—the guy whose family’s had that old artesian well that’s locally rumored to be the real fountain of youth? The local papers do occasional articles on it.”
“You mean that water that’s in the Youth Do drink and some kind of face cream? That new Marco Island paper’s been attacking that.”
He seized her hands in his. “Haze Hazelton’s been accused of murdering Mark Stirling, that Marco journalist who’s always stirring things up. Ames wants me to defend Haze—and tout the anti-aging products very publicly because they’re part of his conglomerate. I had to swear I would. But despite this all being blackmail and forced on me—on us—I do care for you. I promise, we will work together. Let’s remember how we really feel and get through this, get out of here, sift things out between us, even if he still controls—”
“Mommy, why are you whispering in the hall?” a little voice had cried through the cracked door. “We have to get our pretty dresses on!”
Ignoring that outburst, Nick had kissed Claire’s cheek, and they’d held tight. When he’d hurried to his room and Claire had gone into hers, Lexi had said, “I can see you love Mr. Nick. Should I call him Daddy too or Daddy number two? Mr. Nick doesn’t sound so good anymore, does it?”
Claire bit her lower lip before she answered, “Let’s all talk about it later—after the wedding and reception. When we leave here.”
Now, here during the wedding ceremony, Claire knew that Ames had one of his lackeys—the one she’d first seen in the yard by the fountain—recording everything on video, and there was an occasional click and flash of a cell phone camera or two. Would Ames give them remembrances of this forced ceremony for posterity?
She tried to concentrate on the lovely surroundings again rather than the service itself. The palm trees in the yard, with their fronds at this level, swayed and sighed. The cup of sky beyond the beach seemed set with pavé diamonds, like the ones in the stunning wedding ring she’d just accepted. It felt heavy on her finger, but you might know, it fit. She’d almost dropped Nick’s band when she’d slid it on his hand. They were about halfway through their vows. An Anglican Church ceremony, no less. What did God think of this sham of a service?
The wind had shifted, and she could hear the crash of distant surf on the south shore. She was a bit dizzy, so the full moon seemed to roll along the invisible, watery horizon like a huge, watchful eye. It threw a lighted, trembling path across the tops of the waves. If only she, Nick and Lexi could escape on that to safety.
Here on the balcony, the moon, candle glow and lighted torchères not only illumined the scene