Honeymoon

Chapter 97

NORA SAT AND WATCHED as O’Hara toppled helplessly off the chair and cracked open his skull on the hardwood floor, the blood instantly spilling out from above his right eye. It was a nasty gash, yet he didn’t seem to notice. Clearly he was more concerned with what was going on inside him.

They always were.

Still, of all the men—including Jeffrey, Connor, and her first husband, Tom Hollis—this was proving the hardest. Her attraction to the man she knew as Craig Reynolds had been real, the chemistry always there. His wit, charm, his looks. The cleverness, so much like her own. He was the best in all ways, and already she was missing him, regretting it had to come to this.

But it did have to come to this.

He was writhing and choking on his own vomit. Then he tried to stand but couldn’t make it to his feet. The initial drug wasn’t going to kill him, just set the table. But now she worried she’d used too much.

She told herself to say something, to act concerned. She was supposed to be the innocent bystander who didn’t know what was happening. Her panic had to seem real to him. “Let me get you something. Let me help.”

She hurried to the sink and filled a glass with water. From a vial in her pocket, she poured in the powder. Tiny bubbles shot to the surface, like champagne. Nora turned from the sink—and he was gone.

Where’d he go?

He couldn’t have gotten very far. She took two steps and heard the slam of the door down the hall, the lock turning. He’d made it to the bathroom.

Nora ran down the hall, glass in hand. “Honey, are you okay?” she called. “Craig?”

She could hear him retching, poor guy. As horrible as it sounded, it was a good sign. He was ready for the bubbly. Now if she could just get him to open the door.

She knocked gently. “Honey, I have something for you. It will make you feel better. I know you don’t think so, but it will.”

When he didn’t answer, she called out again. When that didn’t work, she pounded on the door.

“Please, you’ve got to trust me.”

Finally, in between heaves, he yelled back, “Yeah, right!”

“Seriously, Craig, let me help you,” she said. “All you have to do is drink this. The pain will disappear.”

“Not a fucking chance!”

Nora fumed. So, that’s how you want to play it, huh? So be it.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to open the door… O’Hara?”

She listened to the silence that followed, imagining his complete surprise. Oh, how she wished she could have seen the look on his face.

She taunted him from her side of the door. “That is your real name, isn’t it? John O’Hara?”

That ended his silence. “Yes,” he hollered back in anger. “As in Agent John O’Hara with the FBI.”

Nora’s eyes went wide, her suspicions realized. Of all things, however, she started to laugh. “Really? I’m impressed. See, I said you were cut out for something better than insurance! I think—”

He cut her off, his voice gaining strength. “It’s over, Nora. I know too much—and I’m going to live to tell about it. You killed Connor for his money, just like your first husband.”

“You’re a liar!” she screamed.

“You’re the liar, Nora. Or is it Olivia? Either way, kiss all your money in the Caymans good-bye. But don’t worry—where you’re going, the room and board are free.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you asshole! But you are!”

“We’ll see about that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a call to make.”

Nora listened to the three high-pitched tones coming from inside the bathroom. He was calling 911.

Again she started to laugh. “You idiot. We’re in the middle of nowhere—there’s no cell phone service out here!”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “That’s what you think, honey.”