Sandra was a dreamer. She always had been. Her mother used to say her head was in the clouds, and if she wasn’t careful, she would fall to earth with a very unpleasant jolt, and sometimes she thought her mother might be right. She loved reading romance novels and fell in love with the rogue handsome hero, fantasizing that she was the damsel in distress. She watched movies and found herself reliving the love scenes over, and over again, making herself the heroine. She would dream of faraway lands, where great lovers and erotic passion were her staples of life. What Sandra Dennis really wanted was an adventure, something to make her humdrum life seem less boring.The sun from the French Riviera was warm and luxurious as she basked under its heat in her plush lounge chair. The thrill of traveling abroad was a fantasy that embraced her, for most of her twenty-six years. Shortly after graduating college, she found that fantasy taking on a life of its own. She spent the past two years savin
“Um, no, you’re welcome to sit anywhere you’d like. It’s a rather large beach, plenty of room for everyone.” Great, she scolded herself again. If he wasn’t already amused at her inept attempt of verbal communication, now he undoubtedly would be. She sounded like a babbling idiot.“American?” he asked, his smile was dazzling, and it made her heart leap in her chest.“Yeah, that’s right. Is there a problem with that?” Sandra frowned under her Ray-Bans, knowing she sounded insulted, but couldn’t prevent the irritation from trickling through her words.“No, not at all. So, what brings you so far from home?”“Why does anyone visit France? You know, vacation, sun, relaxation, that sort of thing.”“Many visit for other reasons as well. Business, romantic holidays, honeymoons.”“Well I’m not here for any of that.” She tried not to sound as nervous as she felt as the heat rose all the way up to her hair clip. He smiled, handing her the drink that sat on the table and reached for his own gla
Sandra found her place on a bench seat near the port side of the boat - which she had been told was the nautical term for the left side. Next to her were a middle-aged woman and her husband, Angela and Michael Gibbons of New Haven Connecticut, celebrating their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Michael announced that they were there to experience all sorts of new and exciting things, winking at his wife with a seductive smile that made the others in the group chuckle and his wife blush profusely.The skipper of the boat and their diving instructor was a Frenchman named Ruelle Lefebvre, who now stepped onto the vessel and went into the glass-enclosed cabin where the steering wheel was. His sun-bleached hair was shoulder length and pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head, his face and hands tanned and weathered by the many long years at sea. His worn yellow tee-shirt and faded cut-off blue jean shorts stood out in stark contrast to the new pair of black sneakers on his large sock
“Try to keep your breathing even and just flow with it,” he told her as they walked toward the back of the boat. “We’ll go slow and stay close to the surface. Once you get your bearings, we’ll go a little deeper, but I’ll let you set the pace. Alright?” She nodded, feeling a strange thumping of her heart. It was as if he was speaking in a different context than diving, but she was too nervous to concentrate on the undertone of his words.Sandra sat down on the edge of the platform in the back of the boat, pulling her yellow tee-shirt and blue shorts off to reveal the black wet suit she wore underneath, and watched while Creighton lifted the air tank to her back. It was heavy, and she gasped as he tightened the straps across her chest, then smiled reassuringly, slipping the full-face mask over her head. His eyes were dark and danced with an emotion she couldn’t name as he adjusted the harness and valves before sitting down across from her, slipping into his rubber suit and mask.“This
“Don’t worry about it,” he said through her helmet speaker. “It’s not after us, but we should get back to the boat. It’s not safe to tempt fate.” She nodded her agreement and was about to swim back toward the ship when Creighton’s hand stopped her. “Aren’t you going to take a picture? You may never get a chance to see another shark this close.” “I don’t want it to see us,” she whispered and heard the now familiar chuckle through her helmet.“It won’t hear you even if you whisper,” he teased. “Take the picture.” Her hands trembled as she drew the camera up, and she realized she was holding her breath again as she snapped the picture. The shark continued to swim with the rest of the fish, not paying the least bit of attention to the silent spectators. “Are you ready to go back?” Creighton asked, watching as the camera drifted in the water by the strap holding it around her wrist when she let go of it. Her legs were shaking, and she could feel the adrenalin burning within her veins
The sun had dropped much lower by the time they got back to the docks, and a warm glow of pinks and turquoise was slowly spreading across the evening sky. It was absolutely beautiful. Sandra stayed behind to enjoy the tranquility of the sea as the rest of the passengers disembarked. She closed her eyes, basking in the sounds of sea gulls echoing across the water, the soft creaking of waves broke the stillness as they caressed the wooden pillars of the walkway. She was relaxed and comfortable and yet oddly reenergized.“One of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen,” Creighton said softly, making her aware that he was still sitting beside her. She nodded again, drawing a deep breath. This specific moment was definitely worth all the sacrifice she had made in order to come here. When she looked back toward Creighton, she blushed, realizing he was watching her.“Ruelle needs to close up the ship for the night,” he told her gently, an inviting smile caressing his lips as he took her ha
The aroma of lilacs drifted about the small confines of the bathroom as she stood at the sink, blow drying her hair. Sandra pulled the brush through her long red-brown strands, making certain the wave and curl was flat and obeying. Her hair lay softly down the middle of her back as she looked in the mirror at her reflection, smiling at the woman who stared back at her. She loved the tanned color of her face, neck and shoulders above the towel wrapped snugly around her bust, and how it made her bright green eyes seem to shine like emeralds. She may have to keep going to the tanning booth once she returned home. Regardless of the “C” word warnings.The sweet sounds of Jackie Evancho played on her iPod while she finished getting ready. The gentle voice and soft music made it much easier to concentrate on her task. She retrieved the small bag of cosmetics from the chest of drawers and applied a little mascara to her unusually long lashes, batting her eyes playfully at the green-eyed image
Maybe he was in the arms of that very attractive waitress from the beach. Damn it! She wouldn’t have taken so much time getting ready if she had known he wasn’t serious. It would be less embarrassing if she were in jeans rather than a dress. At least she would be able to hold her head up high and feel comfortable doing it. She felt like a stupid country hick, debating on whether to go down to the lobby or not. She looked back at the clock and realized with a start that she was late. It was three minutes after eight.With a deep sigh, Sandra rechecked her clutch purse, slipped her room key card into it and smoothed her hand over her dress and hair. She was ready, for whatever the night should bring. As she stepped out of the door, she heard her mother’s sweet voice echoing through her memory.Be proud of who you are, sweetheart, and what you are. It doesn’t matter where a person comes from that makes them worthy of your affection. It’s what’s inside that matters.Sandra ignored the lif
Sandra hung up the phone with a slam, then glanced to her grandparents who were sitting at the kitchen table. She was starting to get angry with all the rejections and dead-end avenues. She called Davies and told him she wanted him to get the plane ready to go to France, only to be told the police had restricted his flying. They were concerned that whomever it was that had killed her husband would try and sabotage the jet.She was getting frustrated and felt like she was being held back. If she didn’t know better, she would think she was being placed under lockdown. She could understand the police’s concern, but she had more men around her then they had at Fort Knox, and she would be willing to take all of them with her if she needed to.“I can’t leave the house, I can’t go to France, I can’t even gather eggs,” she grumbled as she joined the older couple. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here and wait until doomsday to find out what happened to my husband.”“Honey, you’re going
The room was warm as the setting sun shone through the blinds. Two detectives sat on the sofa, watching as the man continued to pace the floor. Trying to keep him calm was growing increasingly harder with each hour.Creighton could only assume the horror his family was going through, not to mention Sandra. They had been having difficulties, but this made all of that seem trivial. He had to call her, he had to contact her somehow and let her know he was alive, but the police were refusing to allow him the chance. They had to keep him concealed for the time being, though it was steadily becoming impossible. The man was acting like a caged animal, anxiously trying to find a means of escape.“How much longer do we have to sit here?” he growled, looking to those gathered around.“We need you to remain patient for a little longer,” a bald-headed man told him. “Monsieur Ashford, we understand what you’re going through…”“Like hell you do,” Creighton snapped. “I have a pregnant wife at home w
“I know she’ll be happy when it’s over,” Emma said, returning to the room, her eyes red from the tears she’d been wiping away. “She can’t let Brandon go to school, and she has to keep the children inside instead of letting them go out to play.”“I’m sure they are going stir crazy,” Cathy said with a frown. “Especially Grace. That little girl is used to having the freedom of the farm to run and play.”“The only good thing is the weather,” William told them. “It’s been really wet, and she doesn’t like getting her dresses dirty.”“Sounds like her aunt,” Andrew said with a soft chuckle.“Maybe we should take this meeting over to my sister’s,” Cathy suggested with a sideways grin.“Let me call Derek and Kristin,” William said, standing and walking to the phone on the wall. “They wanted to know what you found out.”“Just have them meet us at Sandra’s,” Andrew told him. “We can discuss this all there.”“I thought Sabrina and Irena would be here,” Cathy said, looking at Emma who was wrapping
Parker and Harvey held off the reporters for as long as they could alone, then eventually had to call NHT’s security. Within a few short hours, there were enough burly looking men to scare off anyone trying to get near the house. Sandra kept her children inside, though it really wasn’t difficult. The rain had eased by supper, but just like the past several days, it picked up again this morning.Max growled as he laid of the entry. The noise of cameras clicking, and the soft hum of voices mingled among the breezes of the day. She had tried to watch television, but every station was reporting on the accident. Eventually, she had no choice but to surrender and put on Grace’s favorite princess movie. At least it kept them from listening to those who insisted that there was no hope in finding any answers this soon.Sandra drew a deep breath as she wiped the moisture from her forehead. She had decided to keep herself busy and baked two apple pies, along with nearly a hundred sugar cookies.
“No, it’s about assuming you knew what I would want. You did this, claiming it was for us when it was for you. You can’t stand the idea that your little sister has something you never would. It was bad enough when I felt like I was competing with Creighton for your attention, but now I’m watching you compete with Sandra for the mother of the year award.”“Stop comparing me to Sandra!” Cathy screamed. “It’s not my fault she’s perfect. She’s always been everyone’s favorite. I can’t tell you how many boyfriends I’ve dumped after I found out they were using me to get close to her. I didn’t want Creighton, but after he chose her over me, it made me angry. I was competing with her again, and she was too stupid to realize it. He chose that simple, no makeup, no fuss girl over me. She shares his bed, when I’m a better lover then she would ever be. She has his money, his admiration, your parents’ admiration, even my grandparents enjoy spending time with her over me. She even has a perfect body
“Maybe Michelle heard from him,” the boy said hopefully.“I haven’t spoken with her, but I want to call in the morning. She may know something more than the police do.”The two were silent for a long time as they considered their own thoughts, until Sandra realized the tea was gone. She looked to Brandon who looked like he was finally able to fall asleep, then stood and took the cups to the sink.“Come on, son,” she told him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Let’s see if we can get some sleep.”“Mum, can I come sleep with you?” Brandon asked once they reached the second floor of their house.Sandra smiled and hugged the boy, nodding as he looked up to her.“You can sleep on your daddy’s side,” she told him. “Just don’t tell him I let you in our bed. He may get jealous.”Brandon smiled as he walked with her into the bedroom. Sandra helped him between the covers and tucked him in, then left to check on Grace. The house was silent and soft snores of her little girl could be heard
Sandra paced her bedroom trying to stop her mind from racing through the events of the day. Derek had come home after his mother called him, insisting on picking up Brandon from school. Sabrina called to say the reporters were going crazy with the news of the Tornado’s fire and that she and Giovanni would be home as soon as they could get there.Irena spoke with her parents and insisted on calling in a prescription for Sandra’s nerves, though she refused to use it. She needed to stay alert and concentrate in order to determine what was going on. The last thing she needed was to surrender to the effects of a drug.After speaking with Andrew, William informed the rest of the family about Cathy’s surgery, though he wouldn’t go into detail. He assured them he would check into the reports from his end and stay abreast of the investigation. Once Cathy felt like traveling, they would drive out to Yorkshire to be with the family.Nana tried to get Sandra to let her stay overnight, but she was
Sandra opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her bedroom, yet she couldn’t remember laying down. The house was silent and the soft pattering of rain outside reminded her that the dog had made a muddy mess of the entry. Then she remembered her grandfather and William coming over, and slowly began to piece together the last thing she remembered.There had been an accident on the Tornado and three bodies were found. She knew in her heart it wasn’t Creighton. She couldn’t even begin to guess who would have been on their ship, or how it ended up at sea, but she knew her husband wasn’t the one killed. Now all she had to do, was convince the others into believing her.Sandra stepped down the stairs to hear Grace talking to her great-grandfather, the dog running from one room to another as he chased his rope and the smells of food drifting out of the kitchen. She stepped into the living room and saw Papa sitting beside Grace, one of her own books open in front of him as he listened to
Sandra stared at the two men for a long moment as their words began to sink in. When she spoke with her husband earlier that morning, he was still at the hotel. He didn’t mention having plans of returning to the yacht. Why would he go back there when he told her he was packing to come home?Then she thought about the bodies found. One was female. Who was it? Did Creighton lie to her about not being involved with Garcon’s assistant? Had he gone there to meet with her, perhaps a final rendezvous before coming home to his family?“Did you hear what we said?” Papa asked her.“It’s impossible,” she began, her anger taking over her words. Sandra looked down at Grace who was trying to wipe the muddy water from her little dress. She hadn’t understood what her grandparents were saying. All she cared about was her soiled outfit.“Sweetheart, go upstairs and find a clean dress,” Sandra told the little girl. “Put that one in the hamper and warsh your hands. We’ll make lunch when you’ve finished.