Twists of Fate Trilogy: Box Set, page 1
Twists of Fate Trilogy
Box set – Books 1 through 3
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Table of Contents
The Fisherman
Passion for the sea…
or love of a woman?
The Witness
…living a lie!
Twists of Fate
…dare to Dream!
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MARY JANE FORBES
Todd Book Publications
THE FISHERMAN
Twists of Fate Trilogy
Book 1
Passion for the sea…
or love of a woman
A recovering patient. A smitten surgeon. When murder strikes the ICU, will she risk their love to save lives?
Mac’s past and future collide when he’s critically wounded at sea and rushed to the operating table. Tormented by pain and phantom memories, the only bright spot in the fisherman’s hospital stay is his daily checkup with the gorgeous surgeon who saved his life. With each new bedside visit, he hopes against hope that the quick-witted beauty could learn to love a man of the sea.
Maria’s surgical prowess has always been her top priority. But when a handsome fisherman ends up on her operating table, she never expected he would steal her heart. Once out of her care, she can’t say no to his offer for a date.
Just as their relationship starts to heat up, she is found having witnessed a deadly act in the intensive care unit a year ago. The Mexican drug cartel put her on their kill list. Afraid for her life, she must make an impossible choice: stay with Mac and risk both their lives or leave without a trace and lose her love forever.
To Marcia,
A most wonderful hostess!
I hold dear my memory of curling up on your swing,
a gentle sway as I tapped my toe on the mosaic tiles,
glass of wine in hand,
gazing out the French doors
to the blue waters of the Gulf.
Thank you!
Table of Contents
Maps
CAST
Acknowledgements
Part One
Chapter 1
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August First
Anna Maria Island, Florida
PATTY SUE PARSONS TWIRLED in her bridal gown beaming with joy. In three days she would marry her prince, a strong, handsome fisherman with dark wavy hair, a stark contrast to her waist-length, silky blonde curls. Her mother sitting on a straight chair, her sister and her best friend perched on the bed were enthralled watching the angel spin around the master bedroom.
She bent over her mother, kissing both rouged cheeks. “Mother, thank you for arranging this wonderful beach house. The last three weeks have been heavenly.”
Doris Parsons jerked back in surprise at the rare display of affection between herself and her daughter.
Giggling, the bride darted from the bedroom and down the short hall to the great room—open spaces flowing from one to the next—a cozy living room outlined by a curved couch facing a television and coffee table overflowing with bridal magazines. The dining area’s long table was separated from the couch by a swing anchored on shiny steel chains bolted to the ceiling. The swing, perfect for two, faced French doors opened wide to a line of trees and the melody of Gulf waters lapping the white sandy beach.
The curvy couch and swing were puffed up with soft cushions in heavy cotton sprinkled with flowers in dusty blue, yellow, green, and pink. They beckoned anyone passing by to sit, curl up with a book or for an intimate conversation.
The bride swished out the French doors to the narrow deck, grasped the white railing throwing her head back to breathe in the moist summer air. Stepping back through the doors, she raised her hands to the ceiling twirling about, then playfully lowered her slim figure to the swing.
“For God’s sake, stop. You’re making me dizzy,” her sister snipped flopping on a ladder-back chair beside the swing. Her only sibling, Regina was older by two years and, if truth be told, wished she was the sister in the long white gown.
“Oh, come on, sister dear, my maid-of-honor, I’ll not let you cast a gloomy spell over the next three days. If I want to dance, smile, laugh and cry tears of joy, you’ll not stop me.” Patty Sue smiled at her sister, who seemed mellow the first two weeks of their stay at the beach house, had accepted the fact that Danny had not chosen her. But now she had turned sullen once again. And, Regina’s mood seemed to be spreading because Patty Sue caught Marianne, her bridesmaid, wiping a tear away when she thought no one was looking.
Of course, Doris Parsons was always starched, her long pointy face turning particularly sour once she heard her precious baby had chosen a commercial fisherman for her husband.
Patty Sue ignored their dour faces.
“She’s right, Regina. Button it.” Mrs. Parsons snatched her purse lying on the dining room table. “Where is that seamstress? I thought you said Millie promised to be here on the dot of one o’clock. You can’t trust anyone to keep their word these days. No consideration. I made lunch reservations.”
Because of the tension that enveloped the family after announcing her engagement, Patty Sue decided there would be no parties—no bridal showers, no girl’s final night on the town, and no rehearsal dinner. She was not going to look at long faces, and definitely would not put up with their nasty comments about her fisherman. The only celebration she accepted was the luncheon today.
“When’s Father coming?” Patty Sue asked turning to her mother.
“Friday. I told him not to struggle up the stairs with the suitcases I packed for the remaining week of our stay. If I’m not here when he arrives be sure to show him the elevator to the second floor. I don’t want him to pull his back out.”
Regina shot a look at her mother. “He doesn’t have a back problem … more something in his head from talking to all of his buddies at the men’s club, lifting a scotch on the rocks while sucking on a Cuban cigar.”
Doris gasped. “Regina, don’t be nasty. Thanks to him you girls were presented at the debutante ball.” Doris smoothed a nonexistent strand of blonde hair back to her chignon held in place with pearl studded combs. “Your father deserves his time away from his patients, the lectures, and social events we’re obligated to attend. It’s not easy listening to their troubles, prescribing sedatives so they can carry on with their lives. Not easy at all.”
Hearing a knock, Doris strode to the door. “Finally, that seamstress.”
“Hi, Mrs. Parsons.”
“Oh, you’re not who I expected.”
“Sorry, but you’ll love what I have for you—a bouquet of flowers and some tea cookies. Your friend, I guess this is her house, ordered them for you.” The young woman brushed by Doris to the large island separating the kitchen from the rest of the great room. Setting the vase of flowers and the box of cookies down on the black granite counter, she turned to look at Patty Sue. “Oh, my, your dress is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Patty Sue said. Fishing around in her large tote on the chair at the end of the dining room table, she pulled out a Polaroid instamatic camera. “Would you mind taking a picture of us? Actually, snap it four times so we each have one,” she giggled handing the camera to the girl.
The women huddled together on the swing, mother and daughter in the center, Regina and Marianne on either end.
“Nice. Say cheese,” the girl said smiling pulling the picture as it spit out of the camera. “You want three more?”
“Yes, please,” Patty Sue said grasping Marianne’s hand and her mother’s on the other side, Doris’s eyebrows shot up at the touch.
The women continued to huddle, three strained faces pulling their lips to a tight smile and the joyful bride glowing in the center as the flash sparked three more times. Lining the pictures up on the dining room table, Patty Sue exclaimed they were perfect then handed them out as the delivery girl took one last look around, catching the dazzling bride in the sunbeams streaming through the windows as she left.
Tucking her copy of the Polaroid in her purse, Marianne strolled behind Patty Sue. “How are you going to wear your hair? Up in a twist or long over your shoulders?” she asked as the bride preened in front of the French doors imagining that Danny was watching, smiling at her from the sea.
“I don’t know. What you do you think? A French twist would look very sophisticated topped with my jeweled crown holding the veil,” Patty Sue replied twisting her curls behind her head.
“Personally, if I had your wavy golden hair I would let it flow down my back. With the crown you will be the picture of a fairy princess,” Marianne said smiling at her best friend.
Doris checked her watch for the umpteenth time, sighed, raising her head to the ceiling. “Where is that woman? I want to show her where your gown should be nipped in at the waist, accentuate your figure.”
“Mother, you three go on to the restaurant. Millie should be here any minute ... I’ll catch up with you. Order me a champagne cocktail. I plan to enjoy these three days. Now, scoot.”
“All right, but don’t dawdle. I hung your sundress in the closet along with your other outfits and your going-away costume. Be sure Millie knows to really pinch in your waist. You have no stomach, so she shouldn’t have any trouble.”
Marianne kissed the porcelain cheeks of the beautiful bride as she left with the other two navigating the stairs to the ground floor, then out the garage and up the street to the corner to catch the trolley—a brightly painted lit
Alone in the house, Patty Sue scampered out the French doors to the end of the deck peeking around the railing. Not seeing her seamstress she floated back to the swing, perched on the flowered cushion pushing a rhythmic sway with her toe, dreamily looking out at the Gulf’s sapphire water twinkling back at her through the fluttering leaves of the trees. She imagined her groom at the helm of his boat bringing in his week’s load of fish.
Everyone liked Daniel Macintyre, a hulk of a man five years older than her twenty-two. He pursued Patty Sue, courted her since the day they met on the pier in New Orleans. He had known her for several years as a scrawny teenager but hadn’t taken notice until that day. She was working at the café next to the dock, a summer job before her senior year at Tulane. On her afternoon break, she stood on the dock watching him as he skillfully pulled into the slip with his heavy load of snapper, grouper, and mullet delivering thousands of pounds of fish. The day they met, as today, was also the first of August.
Now adults, it was love at first sight for both.
He said he had never seen anyone so beautiful with her golden hair glistening in the sun and she had never seen anyone so handsome. Her parents had immediately started their harangue of opposition to her marrying a fisherman. They felt she could do much better. After all they were the Parsons, an old southern family with fortunes earned by three generations in the shipping trades at the busy ports of New Orleans. Dr. Parsons didn’t cotton to the heavy lifting required in the shipping business, even though the family had lackeys, it could still be arduous. Not for Charles Parsons. He chose psychiatry instead—sitting in a comfy brown leather chair talking to his patients lying on a couch. Excelling in the psychiatric profession, Dr. Parsons matched his ancestor’s fortune and then some.
Doris Parsons had insisted her daughter be married on Anna Maria Island, a barrier island off the west coast of Florida. Doris had grown up on the island and wanted her daughter, the baby of the family, to feel her roots on this special day. Doris had asked a childhood friend, a snowbird who always flew north away from Florida’s summer heat and humidity, if the bridal party could stay in her beach house while they prepared for the wedding. The dear friend insisted the Parson’s take advantage of the house for the summer if they liked.
Patty Sue gazed out at the sparkling blue waves—three more nights and then she would be Mrs. Daniel Macintyre. “I’m so happy,” she whispered. “Danny, I love you. Soon we’ll be together—husband and wife.” Her mind filled with her handsome groom. She could almost feel his arms tighten around her, folding her against his body.
Tapping her toe on the floor continuing the slow motion of the swing, she looked around. She would never be able to live in a house such as this. Her mother and father had spent hours explaining that she would live a hard life as the wife of a fisherman. They told her she would spend most of her hours alone while he was out at sea for days, perhaps weeks at a time, always in debt by several thousand dollars to pay for supplies before leaving the dock and landing his first fish. She would only know poverty.
Suddenly Patty Sue’s nerves gripped her. She began to tremble. Dots of perspiration gathered on her forehead. Her breathing accelerated. She ran her hands up and down her arms. Her eyes sought the beautiful flower arrangement the girl had placed on the kitchen island—two colorful Birds of Paradise in the center, surrounded by blue iris and yellow and white lilies. It was a work of art. The crystal vase glistened in the filtered summer sun sending prisms of colorful rainbows around the room as the sun swept high in the sky.
But the bouquet didn’t look right to Patty Sue. She stepped closer, reached for a blue iris. The vase tumbled. Crashed to the floor.
Patty Sue ran to the telephone by the computer set in the kitchen alcove, its screen magically filling with one picture after the other of the owner’s travels, family, friends. The movement of fleeting pictures caused her head to spin.
“No! No!” she screamed.
Her skin crawled. Turned cold. Her stomach roiled, nauseous. Grasping the receiver, she stabbed at the numbers her hand sickeningly jerking before her. Certain she had hit the wrong numbers, she held her finger down on the button and tried again. But before she could dial the phone rang.
She jerked her finger away hearing the voice, biting her lip, tasting blood.
“Hi, there.” The voice was calm, cool, in control.
“Thank God it’s you. My nerves. I’m shaking. I need you. Help me. Please come. Hurry. You know where I am.”
Chapter 2
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DORIS PARSONS SLAPPED THE menu down for the third time, the fingernails on her right hand clicking impatiently on the table. “Where’s my daughter? I shouldn’t have left her. Probably telling Millie how wonnnderful Daniel is. Now Regina’s missing. Marianne, where did Regina say she was going when she jumped off the trolley? She’s been gone … oh my heavens, almost an hour.”
“Mrs. Parsons, I’ll try Patty Sue again. Surely she’ll pick up this time … or she’ll pop through the door.” Marianne smiled reassuringly as she rose, walking quickly to the payphone inside the restaurant’s entrance. Punching in the number for the beach house, she glanced up feeling Mrs. Parson’s eyeballs. The phone ringing waiting to be answered, Marianne diverted her eyes to the tranquil beauty of the waves washing up on the beach, framed in the restaurant’s bank of windows. Her eyes were drawn back to Mrs. Parsons staring at her.
Marianne shook her head, returning the ringing receiver to the hook. No answer. She dialed again then returned to the table sliding into her place next to Mrs. Parsons and the other two empty chairs.
“Well, let’s eat,” Mrs. Parsons snapped. “I’m ordering a martini. What would you like? We’ll have a bite … then hunt down those sisters.”
“Daniel’s a good person, Mrs. Parsons. Works hard. Dreams of buying a fleet of commercial fishing boats—”
“Falderal. Dreaming is all he does. Where is that waitress?”
Marianne looked around at the other patrons enjoying their lunch, then looked through the dining room’s arched portal to the front entrance of the restaurant.
“How do you think Regina’s handling this whole wedding thing, Marianne? Marianne.”
“What?”
“I said, how do you think Regina’s holding up? She fancied Daniel for herself you know. But then Daniel caught sight of Patty Sue … when she blossomed.”
“Reg seems to be okay. A few remarks here and there when Danny took up with Patty Sue. I think it really sank in that she lost him when you and Dr. Parsons said you’d buy Patty Sue a house to live in. I guess Danny is still sleeping in his apartment.”
“Well, of course, he’s still in that dingy box. Charles and I are waiting … maybe Patty Sue will come to her senses before we purchase a house. A few days yet … perhaps she’ll see the folly in marrying such a man.
“What can I bring you two ladies?” the perky waitress asked, her red lips spreading in a wide smile. She took their order including a double martini for Mrs. Parsons and instructions to watch for two more in their party … expected any moment.
“Go try to reach Patty Sue again, dear,” Doris said with a sigh.
Marianne placed the call tapping her finger on the receiver in her hand counting the rings. Raising her brows she looked at Mrs. Parsons and shook her head. No answer.
“Do you have Daniel’s number?” Mrs. Parsons asked as Marianne approached. “We can call him on the boat that is if his ship-to-shore phone is working. Seems like it conks out every day. Maybe Patty Sue called him. Maybe he knows where she is.”
Marianne retrieved a little red address book from her tote, flicked through the pages to Danny’s ship number and tapped the code.
