Dead Ringer Page 24
As the pastor closed with a prayer, Thomas lowered his head and asked God’s forgiveness for his failure with Traci.
The service ended and the mourners dispersed. He led the family through the crowd of condolences and sympathizers to the waiting car. His phone vibrated, and he checked the screen. It was from Maggie, his secretary. He took the call.
“Just so you know, conspiracy blogs have sprung up overnight, suggesting someone other than Traci is buried in her grave. The phone’s been ringing constantly. They’re speculating the subterfuge is to protect Traci from jihadists bent on revenge because she exposed Ricco Rossellini. Want me to keep saying no comment?” she asked.
“That’s all we can do, Mag. We can’t honor such nonsense with a reply.”
“Got it,” she said. “You and your family are in my prayers.”
He thanked her and disconnected.
Ironically, in death, Traci would be remembered not as a party-girl extraordinaire, but immortalized as a hero. Perhaps she had been. Her cell phone photos were the catalyst that set everything into motion. She brought down Rossellini and her actions would destroy his extremist network.
The most positive result was that Daniel’s memory of his mother would be something he could be proud of. Thomas made a mental note to destroy Traci’s scrapbook when he returned to the island—to preserve this final image of her.
The limo dropped them at the airport entrance. Thomas guided them through Edinburgh Airport to the private plane terminal. He stopped and picked up one of the tabloids, fresh off the press.
A picture of Mercy arriving at the airport yesterday morning was on the front page with the caption:
TRACI WALLACE: IS SHE REALLY DEAD?
He handed it to Mercy. “Want to read your notices?”
She glanced down and shook her head.
He dropped it in the first trashcan he passed.
On the flight home, Mercy removed the hat and sunglasses and took a seat by the window. How had her life become so complicated in such a short period of time? Would she ever be able to unravel all the emotions that tied her to this family?
How confusing it must be for Daniel. He had buried a mother he hardly knew while standing beside a mother he had come to love.
During the service, she’d thought about what Traci’s last moments must have been like, facing the cold eyes of Lorenz Lucci. Mercy knew the terror her sister must have felt. She shivered, remembering the evil in Lorenz’s gaze, and it left an ache in her chest for her sister.
Mercy exhaled a deep breath and gazed at the window that reflected her own profile. Where did she go from here? She still had no idea if Thomas wanted her in his life. He’d been so busy the last few days with funeral arrangements she’d hardly seen him. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Even if he didn’t want her, she couldn’t bear to lose contact with Nanna and Daniel.
“Are you OK?” Thomas took the seat next to her.
“Yes. I think so. It’s been a really horrible day. I don’t know how you stand all the photographers and reporters screaming questions at you.”
“It’s never easy. You just accept it as a part of life that must be dealt with.”
“Thomas, I want you to do something for me,” she said. “Have Edda released from prison. I don’t want to press charges. She was the victim of an evil man. I don’t think the punishment meets the crime.”
“You’re sure that’s wise?”
“She can’t harm me now. And perhaps she’s learned her lesson.”
His gaze searched her face. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
Daniel came across the aisle and climbed into Thomas’s lap. “May...I still call you Mummy?”
She’d known that question would come, but she’d hoped to avoid it until she and his father had talked. She cast a frantic glance at Thomas.
“How about we wait until later to answer that question, Danny. In the meantime, continue to call her Mummy if you wish. Will that be all right?”
“Yep.” He climbed down, walked across the aisle, and talked Fergus into a game of checkers.
Mercy turned her face back to the window. It seemed she had her answer.
Thomas strolled to the galley for a cup of coffee. As he poured the dark liquid, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. Unknown. He reached to shut the cell off and then hesitated. Only a handful of people had his private number. He pressed the green phone icon.
“Thomas?”
He recognized the voice, but it couldn’t be.
“Thomas, it’s Shaul.”
For a moment, Thomas couldn’t speak, a mixture of relief and anger swept over him. “I thought you were dead.”
“I will be, if Heim finds out I made this call. But I couldn’t let you blame yourself for my death. I know how I would feel in your shoes.”
“Heim knew, and he didn’t tell me? Why, Shaul?”
“It was his idea. He decided to use the incident for an undercover assignment he’s sending me on. He thought it would be best if everyone thought I had died. Even Moshe doesn’t know.” Shaul paused for a moment. “The bullet pierced the kevlar vest, barely missed my spine and cracked a couple of ribs, but the damage was minimal.” He chuckled. “It only hurts when I breathe…literally.”
“This ruse is a little cruel on your family and friends, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I especially hated the effect it would have on my mother. But in the long run, it will make her and others safer. At least that’s what I tell myself.”
Still reeling from the shock, Thomas slipped into a seat next to the galley. “I appreciate your letting me know, Shaul…and wish you Godspeed on your mission.”
“Thanks, Thomas. Sorry we kept you in the dark.”
The line went dead.
Thomas had a few choice words he would never get to say to Heim Rosen.
Wallace Island, the Aegean Sea
Wednesday, July 12
Dusk was falling when they reached home, and weariness washed over Thomas, mental as well as physical. He still owed Mercy the talk he’d promised her. “Let’s change into something comfortable. Meet me on the terrace in twenty minutes.”
She turned for the stairs. “Yes, I’d like to get out of these heels.”
Right on time, she emerged looking more relaxed in slacks, a long-sleeved cotton sweater, and tennis shoes.
He gave her an approving glance. “Care for a walk on the beach?”
She nodded.
He clasped her hand.
They took the path that led close to the incoming waves, stepping around the driftwood gently pushed ashore by the tide. Fingers of clouds drifted across the rising moon, casting shadows in their wake.
“You asked when I wanted you to leave.”
She glanced over at him and nodded.
He led her over to a rocky plateau and lifted her to sit on a smooth boulder. “Tomorrow. I want you to leave tomorrow—”
“—I’ll be ready in the morning.” She tried to jump down from her perch, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
He held her in place. “You didn’t let me finish. I want you to leave tomorrow—with me. To get a marriage license. That is, if you’re willing to marry an overbearing Scot who frequently jumps to the wrong conclusions. I would like to marry you tomorrow, but I can wait until the furor over Traci’s death slips off the tabloids. Even though Traci and I were separated for four years, it would seem insensitive to rush this too soon.”
“You needn’t explain, Thomas. I understand. I need to return to Houston to take care of some things, close out my bank account, dispose of my furniture, and my car.” Her eyes glittered in the moonlight. “You’re not just asking because of Daniel—because he wants me to be his mother, are you?”
He lifted her to the ground and held her close. “We haven’t known each other long, but I’m very sure this is right. You belong here. With
me.” He drew her closer. “If I let you get away, my son would never forgive me. And no, it’s not for Daniel. I fell in love with you that first day in Bermuda. When you decided to fight against the odds.”
He traced her cheek with the back of his right hand. Relief washed over Mercy. For a moment, he had her guessing. The stubborn man had finally said what she’d been waiting to hear. That he cared for her—that he loved her.
She smiled. “It took me a little longer than that. Until Paris. Maybe a little sooner. When you brought Paddy to me as a Mother’s Day gift.”
Laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “Perhaps I should ask if you’re agreeing just to become Daniel’s mother.”
She looked up and slipped her arms around his neck.
His lips met hers halfway.
When the kiss ended, she looked up into his eyes. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
34
Wallace Island, the Aegean Sea
Saturday, September 14
Mercy sat up in bed, her eyes open wide. This was her wedding day.
Paddy had been asleep, curled next to her. Her sudden movements sent him scampering for cover.
What had she done to deserve so much happiness? Of course, she’d done nothing. That was the amazing part of God’s grace.
She dashed into the bathroom, humming.
She and Thomas decided not to go formal for the occasion, inviting only people on the island. Thomas flew in a hairdresser from Rome. Wise decision. She was so nervous she couldn’t hold a brush.
To keep the press in the dark about the wedding, Katy had gone to Paris to order a simple white ballerina length dress for her “niece.” No veil. They didn’t want to deal with helicopters buzzing the island for photos. That would have spoiled their plans for simplicity.
Thomas’s connections in Scotland allowed him to get the marriage license in secret.
Were all brides this nervous on their wedding day? Her anxiety came from the fact they hadn’t known each other very long. But it felt right. They had crammed a lot of living into that short time period.
Thomas’s father, Edward, although a little cold in the beginning, had soon warmed to her. He appeared to be a kind man. Knowing her father was dead, he’d ask if he could give her away. That pleased her.
Katy stuck her head in the door, followed by the beautician. “You need any help, Missy?”
“I’m good, Katy. Thanks.”
“Then I’ll go get the rest of the wedding party organized.”
An hour later, Katy and Nanna walked in. “The men have already—” The two women stopped and stared.
“Until Webster invents another word for stunning, it will have to do. That’s what you are, Mercy Lawrence. Stunning,” Katy said. “The tiny flowers in your hair are the perfect touch. I hope Thomas Wallace knows how lucky he is.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Stop, you’re making me even more nervous than I already am. It’s a good thing I have a nurse in the bridal party. In case I faint.”
Nanna, elegant and regal in gray silk, walked over, tears in her eyes. “You are a radiant bride, Mercy.” Her grandmother held out a strand of pearls. “This is your something old. They belonged to your great-grandmother. I was saving them for Daniel’s bride, but I think now is the time to pass them on to my granddaughter.”
Mercy turned to face the mirror and her grandmother fastened the perfectly matched pearls around her neck. They cast a warm glowed against her skin. “Thank you Nanna...I’m honored to wear them.” She pulled a tissue from the box and wiped her nose. “We’d better leave before I ruin this hard fought illusion.”
The three of them went downstairs for the short trip to the chapel. Nanna took her arm and smiled. “Too bad Father Paul couldn’t be here to see Thomas in church.”
“Some sow, some water, and others reap the harvest,” Mercy said. “Sad that he couldn’t come back for the wedding.”
Nanna gave a sad nod of her head. “He had to remain in Rome for his renal therapy. But he sent his blessings.”
Thomas stood near the chapel altar, waiting for the bridal march to begin that would signal the beginning of a new era in his life.
Fergus was at his side.
Both stood in full kilt regalia.
Piped in music filled the small church, provided by the sound system. No organ or piano.
Much different from his first wedding.
Nerves assailed Thomas. Mercy was a gift he didn’t deserve. He couldn’t mess this one up.
Frank escorted Nanna to the front pew. He’d seated the villa staff and islanders earlier.
Strains of Felix Mendelssohn's "Wedding March” filled the air and Thomas turned towards the aisle.
As maid-of-honor, Katy came first, followed by Daniel as ring bearer.
And then Mercy stepped into view. His father, resplendent in his kilt and war medals, held her arm.
Thomas’s mouth went dry and he swallowed hard.
Mercy floated towards him, a vision of indescribable loveliness. Even more important, the beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. She was as beautiful inside as out.
His father smiled, handed Mercy over to him, and then took his seat beside Nanna.
Mercy leaned close. The smell of lavender soap and orange blossoms followed her. “Nice knees,” she whispered.
He struggled to keep from laughing out loud. Life with this woman was going to be fun.
After the ceremony, they returned to the villa for the reception. The house was filled with flowers and well-wishers. The staff had provided vast quantities of food and drink, most of which were consumed.
The guests began to leave, and Mercy found herself alone with Thomas for the first time that day. She turned in a complete circle and gazed at him. “Where did everyone disappear to?”
He took the glass of punch out of her hand and led her into the foyer. “Dad went back to Edinburgh. Nanna and Daniel have gone to visit an old friend of hers in London. Fergus and Katy went along as chaperones.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s the other way around.
“Since you didn’t want to leave Daniel for a long honeymoon, I’ve arranged to have this place to ourselves for an entire week.” He picked up the SAT-phone from a nearby table and punched in a number. “Maggie, this is Thomas. If you call me in the next seven days, you’re fired.”
Her peal of laughter through the phone line reached Mercy before he disconnected.
After returning the phone to the table at the bottom of the staircase, Thomas lifted her into his arms. “You must promise not to gain weight if you expect this service often.”
“I promise to try to not gain weight. Are you trying to impress me by carrying me up this long flight of stairs?”
“Yes.”
She laughed. “If I do gain weight, you could always install a chair-lift, and I could sit in your lap as we glide up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for when I’m eighty.”
When they reached the landing, he nodded down the hallway. “I had your things moved to the master suite at the end of the corridor.”
“You did?”
He grinned. “I did.”
Mercy smiled and placed a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
“I know.”
Paddy sauntered to the open doorway of her old bedroom and yawned. His gaze followed Thomas as he turned away towards the other end of the hall.
Pal scampered up beside Paddy and licked his face. The old warrior crossed his eyes and turned back into the bedroom. Paddy would be fine.
Mercy added another kiss. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He laughed and she felt the rumble in his chest. “Always. It’s a character flaw. Shouldn’t I be?”
“Confidence is good. But I wouldn’t want you to become conceited.”
When they reached the door, Mercy removed one arm from around his neck
and turned the knob.
He shouldered the door open and stepped over the threshold.
His gaze said everything she was feeling.
Thomas leaned forward, his lips only inches from hers. “Welcome home, Mercy Lawrence Wallace.”
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