Sidney Sheldon’s The Silent Widow. Тилли Бэгшоу
that, Doc Defoe? Who would do that to my baby?’
‘I don’t know, Marsha,’ Haddon said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I don’t want sorry.’ The small woman’s head shot up, her eyes alive with anger. ‘I want to know WHY. I want to know WHO. My Trey never hurt nobody, Doc. He made his mistakes in the past, we all know that. But he was clean. He was a good boy. He had a new life, everything ahead of him! Dr Roberts …’ Her voice broke, and the tears came again in a great flood, leaving the thought unfinished.
‘Have the police said anything to you?’ Haddon asked gently.
Marsha shook her head, still distraught.
‘Does Nik— Dr Roberts know?’
Another shake. ‘Nobody knows. Only you. You the first. He’s not even cold, Doc!’
A family liaison nurse appeared at the door as the sobbing began again, but Haddon waved her away. ‘I’m a family friend, Nurse. I’ll handle this.’
He turned back to Marsha. ‘Would you like me to talk to the police? And to let Nikki know what’s happened?’
Marsha Raymond dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she sniffed. ‘I’d appreciate that. I need to get back to my mother. She’s waiting at home for news. And then, I guess … arrangements …?’
‘Don’t worry about any of that,’ Haddon said smoothly. ‘Let me handle it. I’ll speak to the police and we can take it from there. You just focus on Coretta. I truly am so sorry, Marsha. He was a very special young man.’
Trey Raymond’s mother smiled gratefully through her tears.
‘You’re a good man, Dr Defoe. Thank you for coming.’
‘No problem.’ Haddon hugged her again. ‘Call me if you need anything.’
Nikki had no sooner stepped out of the shower than she heard the doorbell. Wrapping her wet hair in a towel, turban style, and slipping on Doug’s over-sized toweling robe that she still wore in moments she needed to feel close to him, she raced downstairs.
‘Haddon! What a nice surprise.’
She was taken aback to see Doug’s old friend and former partner here. Although they kept in touch and met up for coffee every once in a while, Haddon Defoe hadn’t been up to the house since the day of Doug’s funeral. Perhaps it was Nikki’s imagination, but she always sensed a certain tension when she ran into Haddon, as though Doug’s absence made him embarrassed to be around her. Today, though, it was clear from his strained expression that something more than the usual awkwardness was on his mind.
‘Hello, Nikki.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Of course.’ She led him through to the kitchen, disturbed by the odd formality of his manner. ‘Is everything all right, Haddon? You don’t look well.’
‘I’m afraid I have some pretty terrible news,’ he said grimly. ‘I wanted you to hear it from me before the police contact you, as I suspect they will. Nikki, I’m afraid Trey Raymond is dead.’
Nikki was silent. Reaching out a hand, she leaned on the kitchen island for support, then eased herself down gently onto a barstool. She felt faint.
This couldn’t be happening. Not Trey too?
‘What happened?’ she asked at last, her voice raspy and dry.
‘Well …’ Haddon avoided her gaze, looking down at the floor, out of the windows, anywhere but at Nikki. ‘I don’t know all the details. I literally drove here straight from the hospital. But I’m afraid it appears he was murdered. Stabbed, multiple times, with a fatal wound to the heart.’
Nikki shook her head. No. There must be some mistake.
‘He was found naked, by the side of the freeway. Very close to where—’
‘Don’t say it,’ Nikki cut him off, shaking her head as if to dispel the awful truth. ‘Please, I can’t. It can’t be. Not again.’
Haddon moved towards her. Secretly, he’d always found Doug’s wife powerfully alluring; it was that rare combination of strength and vulnerability that drew him, her ambition combined with a sort of intense neediness. Naturally, it was Doug that Nikki had always needed, not Haddon. Doug, who’d never really realized what a jewel he had. But Doug was gone now and Haddon was here, and so was Nikki, her skin still wet from the shower, her dark eyes welling with tears like two great pools of loss …
He reached out to touch her arm, to comfort her, but she backed away with a jerk, as if he were a rattlesnake.
‘What else do you know?’ she demanded. ‘Tell me everything.’
Haddon threw his arms wide. ‘You know what I know. Like I say, I came straight from the hospital. He was alive when they found him, and I think they’d hoped …’
His words trailed off uselessly. Poor Nikki looked white with shock.
‘Why?’ she asked him. ‘Why would anyone want to hurt a young boy like that? I don’t understand.’
‘None of us do. Yet,’ said Haddon. ‘Marsha Raymond’s asked me to talk to the police for her. I’m going there after this. Hopefully, I’ll know more then. I’m so sorry, Nikki.’
She turned on him, irrationally angry. ‘Why are you sorry?’
The transformation was instant and total, like Jekyll and Hyde. Haddon was so stunned it took him a moment to respond. ‘I only meant … you’ve been through so much already,’ he said, blushing. ‘And I know you and Doug both loved Trey like a son. I’m worried about you, that’s all. Is there someone I can call? I hate leaving you alone like this.’
Nikki blinked, as if waking up from a dream and seeing Haddon for the first time. When she spoke again, she was calm.
‘No need to call anyone. I’m fine. It’s just shock. I’ll be fine. It was sweet of you to come. Really.’
She hugged him and ushered him out, pulling herself together and making small talk as she walked him to his car, standing and waving as he drove away.
Once he’d gone, Nikki closed the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
So now there were two.
Lisa Flannagan, who she’d never really liked.
And Trey Raymond, who she’d loved, if only for Doug’s sake.
Two young lives, slashed to pieces, brutally cut down in their prime.
Poor Trey.
Nikki waited for the pain to hit her, for the appropriate torrent of emotion, but instead she felt strangely numb. Funny how grief did that to you. Turned you off like a light switch.
Wearily, she walked back upstairs alone.
Always alone.
Valentina Baden took another sip of her perfectly made espresso and leaned back in her chair contentedly. She adored Cabo San Lucas, adored their villa here, with its private whitewashed balcony off the master bedroom with views over the formal gardens and tennis courts and then out to the clear, azure-blue sea. Before Willie bought the LA Rams, they used to come down to Cabo a lot. But ever since his obsession with that godforsaken football team, getting Willie out of Los Angeles had been like trying to pry a barnacle off the keel of a rusty boat.
And it wasn’t only the Rams that had been keeping him homebound. There was the girl too, Lisa, the ridiculous brunette tramp Willie had been running around with for the past eight years, mooning