Danielle Steel - Vanished

“He's better in court than in the drawing room.”

“Lucky for him.” And then she looked inquiringly at John. In an odd way, they had become friends. Sometimes she felt as though he was her only ally. “I imagine the trial will be really awful.”

“It'll be rough. And they'll bring out things you won't like … at least the defense will, maybe your time in the hospital, or something like that. They have to do what they can to discredit you.”

“Why? I'm not accusing Charles.” Although most of the time she now believed he did it. It was only now and then that she had doubts about Charles's guilt. She told him then about Bea Ritter.

“Stay out of it. You'll only get hurt. Whatever the press gets hold of, they're going to twist and use to stab you in the back with.” She agreed. But what if the girl in the funny hats was right? She was so smart and so intense and so earnest. “I don't know what to think sometimes,” she admitted to John dejectedly. “And what difference does it make anymore? Teddy's gone. The rest is all so unimportant.” Her eyes were so big and sad as she said it. She had lost three children in one short lifetime.

“It isn't unimportant to Charles. His life is at stake. He's going to be clutching at straws for his survival.”

“Who's his lawyer?”

“He picked a good one. A man named Tom Armour. Smart, young, he can be brutal in court, but if anyone can save Delauney's neck, he will.”

“I don't know if I'm glad or not. I don't know what I think anymore. Malcolm says he did it. And when they found the bear …” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away. “But I don't know …when I went to see Charles, I believed him when he said he didn't. But if he didn't, where is Teddy?” It was the one question no one could answer, and as he watched her, he felt so drawn to her, he could hardly listen to her questions. He had never felt like that about anyone, not even his wife, and certainly not the women he usually dealt with in investigations, but there was something about her that just drove him to distraction. Something so vulnerable and soft that all he wanted to do when he was near her was reach out and touch her.

“I wish I knew the answer to that,” he finally said, but his eyes caressed her as they sat on the couch and it grew dark. It was another cold night, and she was alone, as usual. Malcolm was away, and in spite of the police everywhere, the house seemed so empty and lonely. He wished that he could take her to dinner somewhere, somewhere where there was noise and laughter and smoke and music. He wished he could take her away from it all, from men who beat her and broke her heart, and others who ignored her. He knew more about Malcolm Patterson now than he cared to know, and one thing he knew for sure was that Marielle was getting less than she deserved from everyone. And John Taylor wished that he could make things different. “I wish I could make all of this go away for you, Marielle.” It was an unprofessional thing for him to say, but it really touched her.

“That's sweet of you. So do I, I guess. … I used to believe that difficult things happened for a reason. I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Too much has happened to me.” It was impossible to believe that through totally unforeseeable and hideous circumstances, the woman had lost three children. “Do you have children?” She knew so little about him, and yet she had known for a month now that she liked him.

“Two. A girl fourteen and a boy eleven.” And then, suddenly he was sorry he'd said it, but she seemed peaceful as she nodded.

“Andre would have been eleven” …and the little girl eight …the baby who died without ever taking a breath, and with no name …just baby girl Delauney.

“Jennifer and Matthew.” He filled in to distract her.

“Do they look like you?” She was smiling, enjoying just talking to him about normal things, not kidnapping and murder.

“I don't know. People say he does. It's hard to tell What about you? What do you like to do when life is normal?”

She smiled at the question. “I like to swim, and go for long walks, and ride … I like music … I used to paint years ago, but I haven't in years …” Not since the hospital, but she didn't say that. “I like all the silly things I used to do with Teddy.” Everything always came back to that, in the end, it was all she could think of. “We saw Snow White, the day …the day he …”

“I know,” he said softly. He remembered. She nodded then, feeling sad, and he put a hand on hers, and she looked at him wondering why he cared, why he was so nice, but she was grateful that he was there. He always seemed to be there when it mattered. “Marielle …” He spoke her name softly, and the air seemed not to move between them, and then without saying anything, he leaned toward her and kissed her. She felt her whole body melt close to him as he took her in his arms and held her close, and all she could think of was the power of him, the excitement and the strength, and the kindness. She didn't know what to say to him when he pulled away from her and they both looked surprised, but it was obvious from her face that she was happy.

“I'm not sure what to say now …except that you mean a lot to me …and I'm not sure I could have survived all this without you.”

“I want to be there for you …” He wanted to give her more than that, but he didn't know how to say it. He pulled away slowly, and sat back against the couch, wondering at what he had done, and why, except he knew he'd had to do it. He could never have given her any of the things she had. All he could give her was the one thing he knew she didn't have, and hadn't in years: love. And one thing he was sure of, Malcolm Patterson didn't deserve her. She was looking at John quietly, and she looked more peaceful than she had in a long time, as she touched his hand and then kissed it.

“Do you love your wife?” She wanted to know, more out of curiosity than anything else. She wanted to know him better. And he could never be anything less than honest with her. He hesitated and then nodded.

“She's very lucky.” But he didn't want to talk about his wife with her.

“I haven't been able to think about anyone but you since the night I met you. All I wanted to do that night was put my arms around you.” They exchanged a long intense look, and then each knew what the other was feeling. They didn't even need the words. All they needed was each other. And they both knew he could lose his job over what he was doing …and his wife …but the truth was, he didn't care now. All he wanted was to be with her, to take care of her, and protect her as no one else had. Marielle was drawn to him too, but she couldn't imagine what would happen. They were both married, whether happily or not, and however angry Malcolm was at her now, she couldn't leave him after losing Teddy.

“What's going to happen to us?” she asked softly.

What do you want to happen, Marielle?” His voice was deep and gentle.

“I'm not sure.” She looked worried. She didn't want to hurt anyone, not John, or his wife, or even Malcolm.

John touched the silky cinnamon-colored hair. And the truth was that he was ready to leave Debbie for her, but he knew that if he told Marielle that, it would frighten her and make her feel guilty. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep, yet he wanted her so badly. He wanted to be with her, to help her, to hold her, to give her everything she'd never had before. He wanted all of her …her soul …her life …and her body….

“You haven't had a hell of a lot of lucky breaks, my friend.” He said it with a rueful smile, and more kindness in his eyes than she had seen in a lifetime.

“No, I guess you could say that …Teddy was one of them …and now you …maybe that's all you get …maybe all you get out of anything worth having is a few years, a few days … a few moments …” She had had Andre for a brief two years…. Charles for three …Teddy for four …maybe that was it …maybe that was all…. Maybe there was no forever.