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He looked around the room. He could see the hunger in the reporter’s eyes, the cameraman next to him zooming in closer and closer on Olivia’s face. The headlines would read, Woman Gives Birth to Quadruplets, Dad Disappears. His heart went out to her. They had to find Anthony and nip this thing in the bud.
“What’s next for you, Mrs. Capri?” someone asked.
“I just want to take my babies back to Westerly. I want to take them home.”
“With your husband?”
“That goes without saying.”
“That’s enough,” Juliet said, casting her daughter a concerned mom type glance. Amid much grumbling, the crowd began to disperse. Zac caught up with Olivia by the elevator and greeted her family, who explained they were on their way upstairs to feed and cuddle the infants. He asked Olivia to linger behind for a moment.
Faith, who had trailed him, hustled the family onto the elevator. “Catch up with us when you can,” she murmured as the doors slid shut.
He put a hand under Olivia’s elbow and guided her to a small sofa across the room from where the hospital maintenance crew was in the process of dismantling the table and chairs used for the interview. Their corner of the lobby was quiet.
Her mouth set in a straight line, she said, “I can’t believe those reporters. They were digging for some kind of intrigue.”
Zac tried to look sympathetic, but his own chore lay ahead and he dreaded it. “There’s no way to sugarcoat what I have to tell you. Anthony was not staying at the Marina Inn.” He hadn’t told her this on the phone because it had seemed cruel to do so. Then he’d gotten waylaid by his case and finally, like the big chicken he was, he’d hoped Anthony would come to his senses and Olivia might never have to know her husband lied to her.
The time for that kind of sensibility was over as the man was still missing.
She blinked a couple of times. “What do you mean? He checked out?”
“He was never there.”
“But he said he was.”
Zac waited without speaking.
She blinked thick black lashes a few times, her dark eyes almost liquid. “He lied to me.”
The last forty-eight hours of little sleep—and none of it in an actual bed—had made his head fuzzy, his eyelids feel grainy. Sidestepping the lying thing, he said, “I saw your mother hold up a wedding picture. If you’ll get her to loan it to me I’ll take it back to the hotel and find out if anyone recognizes him.”
“You’re saying he used a different name.”
“I’m not saying anything. It’s the next logical step.”
She peered closely at him for a second. “You look tired, Zac.”
“Nothing eight hours in the sack won’t take care of. Go get the picture. I’ll wait right here for you.”
She nodded once and got to her feet, moving a little slowly, no doubt due to the recent operation. Her soft gray skirt swished against her long legs as she paused in front of him.
When had he first started noticing things like Olivia’s breasts and shapely legs and the way her supple body curved? When had he noticed she was no longer a kid? When she came home from college to help out her mother and little sisters after her father died? He’d been in the middle of a divorce. He could barely remember anything from around that time, but at some point it had finally registered in his sorry brain that she’d changed.
And yet he’d never done a damn thing about it. The timing was always off. The chance she’d laugh in his face—well, there was that, too.
“I’ll be right back but it might take a few moments,” she said and he realized he’d been staring at her lips.
“I’ll wait right here,” he said, and watched her cross the lobby, her gait cautious but fluid. There was nothing wrong with the way her hips moved, either.
Not a damn thing.
OLIVIA CHECKED on each of her babies, leaning close to them, whispering assurances, kissing silky foreheads, promising each she would find their daddy. They indiscriminately threw their little arms wide or jerked their tiny legs up against their chests and made baby faces that charmed her down to her toes.
Olivia told Faith where she was going and while her mother was busy cooing over Brianna, swiped the lone wedding picture from the oversize handbag.
She stared at it on the way down in the elevator, bypassing her own face to concentrate on Anthony’s.
The wedding had taken place in September. Anthony had been very tan, his light hair bleached lighter by months of summer sun. He looked like the sportsman he was, like a skier or a deep-sea fisherman. His white teeth glowed in contrast to his bronzed skin. With a bittersweet jab in the heart, she remembered their Key West honeymoon. He’d been attentive, charming. His smile never seemed to slip off his face. More than once she’d found herself thinking she’d married a very good actor and then reproached herself and wondered where such a thought came from.
The moment they’d returned home, she’d started throwing up. The diagnosis she was carrying multiples came next. In a daze she’d come home from the doctor’s office, the sonogram clutched in her hand. She would have to tell Anthony there were four little hearts, four little lives—she would have to tell him their future had just been rewritten, things were going to change forever and ever.
He’d seemed as shocked by the news as she was. A week later, she’d begun to adjust to her new reality and a week after that, when she told Faith and her mother, she’d started looking forward to this life-altering experience.
Anthony, however, hadn’t.
Slowly, as Anthony’s summer tan faded with the advent of winter, so had his interest in her. He’d married a woman eager for adventure and ended up with a nauseated blimp. The fancy sports car would have to go—they would need a van of some kind. The guest suite in the house he was building acquired a new designation: nursery wing.
And now it appeared it had just been too much for him.
She found Zac exactly where she’d left him, slouched into the cushions of the sofa, arm bent, head propped on hand, legs sprawled out in front. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep. He was obviously asleep.
He wasn’t tan and he didn’t smile all that much. The broken nose and the scars gave his face character, enhanced his masculinity, in fact. Why hadn’t he married again, had his one short marriage ruined him for love?
She’d known him since they were both kids. As her best friend’s older brother, he’d ignored her, tortured her, teased her, told her to get lost, even kissed her on the lips once, long, long ago. He’d comforted her on occasion, he’d chewed her out and challenged her.
She extended a hand to shake him awake and paused, reluctant to touch him, uncertain why. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, her pulse rang in her ears. Where was all this coming from? Had she eaten that day? Was that it? Was she hungry?
No. Not hungry.
After a few moments he spoke without opening his eyes. “Did you get it?”
“Yes.”
He held out a hand as his eyes opened. The intense blue pierced her, grounded her, chased away fanciful thoughts she had no business entertaining.
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“But the babies—”
“Are with their grandma and aunties and Faith, one adult per child. They’ll be fine for a while and this new mom could use an outing.” She stared hard at him, daring him to refuse her. Did he understand she had to go, she had to know? Anthony Capri was her husband, the father of her children. She owed it to all of them to figure out what was going on.
He said, “Sure. No problem.”
It was a cool day, making Olivia glad Faith had bought her a sweater for the press conference. It felt so good to walk on a sidewalk—she could see her own feet again!—to slide into the front seat of a car unaided. Heck, it felt good to fit in the car without pushing the seat so far back it hit the trunk. Her pregnancy had been relatively uneventful, but that still meant months of bed rest, months of being stuck indoors. She was sick of the Internet, books, television and staring out windows. She’d missed the smell of fresh air, the feel of the wind ruffling her hair as she ran, even the cool dampness of the fog swirling overhead.
She offered to drive but Zac refused, claiming his catnap had refreshed him. He seemed revitalized, his driving as sharp and crisp as ever even if he drove slower than she would have.
Olivia couldn’t keep from counting the motels and hotels they passed. Nineteen of them between the hospital and the Marina Inn. Anthony had bypassed nineteen opportunities to be closer to her.
Except apparently he hadn’t stayed at the Marina Inn after all.
“How’s it feel to be free?” Zac asked.
She looked over at his familiar profile, so glad they were friends again. “Like heaven.”
“How much longer do you have to stay at the hospital?”
“Technically, I’m already rooming with Faith at a place across the street, but in reality, I’m living more or less in the nursery. My mom and sisters are going back to Westerly tomorrow.”
“Have all the babies reached four pounds yet?”
“Not all of them. The doctors want them to stay another few days, but I don’t know. We have an excellent hospital in Westerly, as you know. My sister in California is on her way, too.”
“Sandy?”
“Yep. The doctor seemed impressed I’d have a real live nurse in residence for two weeks. I think he can be persuaded to let the babies leave a little early. I hope so. I want to go home.”
He gestured at the wedding photo Olivia held on her lap. “I thought the photo place burned down while you were on your honeymoon?”
“Right before we left. Mom took this picture herself without telling us and had it blown up. Anthony didn’t want a bunch of amateurish photographs floating around. However, you know Mom. She wanted one of her own so she snapped this without him knowing it.”
She gazed down at the photo again. Her own face wreathed in smiles, Anthony’s tall well-built shape towering over her. He was looking to the right of the camera, holding a champagne flute. Sunlight glinted off the gold and diamonds of the Super Bowl ring he always wore, claiming it was impossible to get off his finger as he’d gained weight since first putting it on.
She’d been blown away by the intensity of their whirlwind romance and had allowed herself to be swept into the exciting world he proposed. It was as though he’d known exactly what she wanted—and what her life lacked—and offered it on a silver platter. She’d convinced herself his love was real and that hers was real, too. She’d married him nine weeks after they met.
Nine weeks!
She dug in her handbag for her house keys. On the ring with the keys was a small pocket knife that also housed a pair of scissors. With a few quick stokes, she cut the photo in half, putting the half with her image and the knife back in her purse.
Zac watched her do this without saying a thing.
They pulled into the hotel parking lot. Olivia struggled a bit getting out of the low-slung car, glad when Zac lent a hand.
Using his badge to grease the way around the long line of guests waiting to check in, Zac showed the wedding photo to the staff. “Have any of you seen this man before?”
Almost everyone at the counter recognized Anthony. “That’s Mr. Gray,” a woman with beautiful slanted eyes said. “Paul Gray.”
“He’s a NASCAR driver,” a kid in a bowtie said.
“And a deep-sea diver,” another added. “And a Super Bowl star.”
“He tipped like there was no tomorrow.”
“‘Tipped’ as in past tense?” Zac said.
“Well, yeah. He checked out yesterday.”
Yesterday! Two days after the babies’ births? Olivia didn’t know what she’d expected to hear, but this wasn’t it. And since when had Anthony driven NASCAR? Her stomach did a backflip and she leaned against the marble counter for support.
Zac said, “Did he say where he was going?”
“Home,” the first young man said without hesitation. “He said his wife was having a baby and he had to get home.”
“Did he say where home was?”
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Local,” the woman said. “He seemed very well-acquainted with Seattle.”
“He went out every night he was here. Really nice guy. Really generous.”
“Did he seem distracted or upset when he checked out?”
They all looked at each other and shook their heads.
“Think carefully,” Zac said after a moment. “Was he alone when he checked out?”
“There were people in the lobby,” one girl said.
“No there weren’t. It was mid-morning and all the business people had left,” the boy insisted.
“No, there was a kind of jumpy guy over by the potted palms and a woman and two teenagers by the elevators.”
The boy shrugged. “He had the valet bring his car around,” he volunteered.
“What kind of car, do you remember? A van?” This from Olivia.
“No, a sleek white coupe,” the girl said. “Joey, didn’t you take a picture of him with Alyssa and Tommy?”
“Sure,” one of the boys said, and rummaged in a pocket. Out came the ubiquitous cell phone.
Olivia’s gaze fastened on Anthony, smiling as usual. Green numerals flashing on the screen identified the date as the day before. It had been taken in front of the Inn and in the background she could make out what appeared to be her white car.
She suddenly couldn’t bear to stand there a second longer. She turned on her heels, and heedless of the spasm of pain the jerky movement caused, kept on going toward the front door, quaking inside.
She made it outside before she could go no further. Bending at the waist, she clasped her thighs. Tears dripped onto the pavement by her feet. A small knot of tourists looked away as though embarrassed for her.
She couldn’t stop the tears. She could barely catch a breath. So, this is what it’s like when your life falls apart…
She saw Zac’s shoes before she heard his voice. He put a warm hand on her back and she straightened up, leaning against him as he ushered her out of the traffic pattern.
“Are you all right?”
She said, “No,” but a new thought had just struck her.
“Let me take you back to the hospital,” Zac murmured.
