Midnight Jewels

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Midnight Jewels Page 35

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  The leaping flames of the fire were reflected in Croft’s eyes as he moved toward his victim. He said nothing, closing in on Gladstone with a slow, relentless tread that had a temporarily mesmerizing effect on Gladstone. It was obvious Croft was in no hurry to finish this. This time he would be certain.

  From her vantage point on the hillside, Mercy had a clear view of the action. The moment Gladstone had leaped from the helicopter with a gun in his hand she had instinctively started forward. But a broken cry from Isobel jerked her attention back to the other woman.

  “It can’t end like this,” Isobel screamed. “I won’t let it!” She was pelting forward down the hill, racing past Mercy and heading for the gate in the wall.

  Mercy flew after her. She dashed through the gate a few steps behind Isobel and realized the woman was heading for the helicopter. Against the backdrop of roaring flames Croft and Gladstone were still playing out the deadly game of predator and prey. Both men were oblivious to the women.

  Isobel reached into the helicopter and fumbled beneath the seat. Breathing quickly, her muscles propelled by a surge of adrenaline, Mercy reached the machine just in time to see Isobel scrambling back out of the cockpit with a gun in one hand. She had apparently kept it stashed under the pilot’s seat.

  Mercy’s foot struck an object on the ground and she stumbled. As she caught herself she saw the package containing Valley. She knew that shape and size. She also remembered the weight of the book. Without stopping to think, aware only of the fact that she needed a weapon to counter Isobel’s gun, Mercy reached down and grabbed the heavy package.

  “I’ll kill him,” Isobel was yelling. “I’ll kill both of them.” She was ignoring Mercy, steadying herself for a shot at one of the two men who were moving slowly toward the wall of fire.

  In that moment Mercy couldn’t tell if Isobel was aiming at Gladstone or Croft. She couldn’t take the chance that it might be Croft.

  Mercy swung the book in a violent arc that connected with Isobel’s gun arm.

  Isobel yelled and the gun fell to the concrete pad. Mercy leaped for it.

  “You little bitch!” Isobel was holding her injured arm, her fury and pain clearly revealed in the light of the fire. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill—”

  Gladstone’s scream of rage and terror interrupted the threat, paralyzing both women for an instant. Both Mercy and Isobel swung around just in time to see Gladstone trapped between the fire and Croft. Croft was deliberately closing the gap, giving his victim a hellish choice of fates.

  How could either man stand the heat of the flames? Mercy wondered. They were both so close to the fire. She kept the gun clutched tightly in her hand as she watched the awful ritual played out to its final conclusion.

  Gladstone was screaming what sounded like gibberish as Croft closed in. But just as Croft was gliding into the final step that would bring Gladstone within reach, his victim succumbed to the hysterical panic that was obviously clawing at him.

  “No! No, I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you do this to me. You and all the others are trash. Stupid, blundering trash. You’re not worthy…There’s always a way out. There must be a way out…”

  Gladstone turned and ran straight into the flames. Something heavy fell from the roof, an object that was alive with fire. It struck Gladstone just as he crossed the threshold of his once proud home.

  Mercy saw Croft start to dart forward. “Croft, no! He’s dead. You can’t touch him now. It’s over.” She ran toward him, fearful that his need for vengeance and certainty would carry him forward into the flames.

  Croft swung around at the sound of Mercy’s voice as if halted by an invisible chain. He stared at her for an instant as she raced toward him. His body was silhouetted by the lethal glare and the heat was washing over him. Then something flickered in his gaze, an expression of longing and unutterable need.

  “Mercy!”

  “It’s over, Croft. It’s over.” She threw herself into his arms and he caught her close in a savage embrace.

  “I know,” he whispered hoarsely. “Ι know.” He led her quickly away from the intense heat.

  Together they ran back toward the helicopter. Mercy glanced around in amazement.

  “Isobel’s gone!” she shouted.

  “No loss. Let’s get out of this compound.”

  Croft led her through the gate and back up the hillside. There in the cool darkness Croft stood watching for a while, fulfilling his need to be sure this time.

  After a moment Mercy asked quietly, “What went wrong with the helicopter?”

  “I drained the gas tanks last night before I entered the house. The Jeep doesn’t work, either. I didn’t want him to have any exits this time.”

  Mercy touched his hand. “Is it over now?”

  He knew what she meant. “It’s over. This time they’ll find his body in the flames. This time I’ll be sure. I saw him go down. He’s dead.” He paused and then he said quietly, “I think it’s time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “To call the authorities. That’s what you’ve wanted to do all along, isn’t it?”

  “Finally! Shall we start with the sheriff?”

  “Ι was thinking about the nearest fire station. There’s so much cleared land around the compound that with any luck that blaze probably won’t be able to spread very far. But there’s no sense taking chances.”

  Mercy stared at him in disbelief. “No sense taking chances? It’s a little late to start thinking about that, isn’t it? But then, that’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you, Croft. Your sense of timing.”

  But she was reaching out to catch hold of his hand, threading her fingers securely through his. Croft felt the reassuring energy of her love pouring into him and he drank it into all his senses. It revitalized him, nourished him, comforted him. He needed her, he realized, in ways he had never needed another human being. It was safe to need her because she would always be there for him.

  “Are you all right, Croft?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I am now.” Mercy was safe and the last of the screams left from three years before had faded away forever. The old Circle was closed and a new one lay before him.

  “What about Isobel?” Mercy asked reluctantly. “She got away.”

  “I think she’s smart enough to keep going.” He saw the package containing Valley in her hand. “Don’t tell me you managed to save that damn book.”

  Mercy glanced down. “It came in rather handy a few minutes ago. Isobel got a gun out of the helicopter. She was going to use it on either you or Gladstone or both. I couldn’t tell which. I used Valley to knock it out of her hand. Worked like a charm.”

  “Whoever said,” Croft observed thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with relieved amusement, “that that kind of literature has no socially redeeming value?”

  Mercy’s shaky smile warmed the chilly night.

  The first Doberman appeared out of the woods in front of them as they made their way back to where the Toyota was parked. The second dog was sitting beside the car, seemingly guarding it. Both animals went up to Croft, greeting him silently. Mercy watched the moment of silent animal-human communion and groaned.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be buying a lot of dog food in the future?”

  * * *

  Mercy was exhausted by the time they reached Denver. Croft had driven straight through, stopping only to notify the authorities anonymously of the fire and to fill the Toyota’s gas tank. When they finally pulled into a motel parking lot, all she wanted was a long hot shower before dinner.

  “Do you think the motel clerk will mind us taking two Dobermans into the room?” she asked Croft as she glanced dubiously at the dogs in the back seat.

  “I’ll speak to the clerk,” Croft said blandly. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  Mercy was
n’t particularly surprised when that proved true. Croft had a way of getting what he wanted.

  “I wonder what will become of Isobel,” Mercy said during dinner that evening. “That woman gave me the creeps. She is also a twit.”

  Croft’s mouth lifted in genuine amusement. “You have a way of seeing some things in very simple terms, don’t you? I think, at the bottom, you and I share a very similar philosophy of life. You’re right. Isobel was a twit and Gladstone had a way of attracting twits. As he said, there are always plenty of people out there who are willing to surrender control of their lives to someone else in exchange for a feeling of being unique and important.”

  “So what do you think will happen to her?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t particularly care.” Croft shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, she was just a nuisance. I was after Gladstone, not her. She knows that, which is why she’ll disappear from our lives. I imagine she’ll find another employer and become someone else’s problem. Sooner or later she’s going to wind up in jail or dead. It’s inevitable. She’s not quite as smart as she should be to have a successful career working for people like Gladstone. She doesn’t know the fundamental rule for survival in that kind of job.”

  “Which is?”

  “When to get out.”

  “Oh.” Mercy shivered at the casual way he outlined Isobel’s probable future. “You were right about Gladstone or Graves or whatever his name was, Croft. He was an evil, dangerous man.”

  He looked at her. “I should never have let you get close to him.”

  “Don’t start in on that,” Mercy advised. “I didn’t give you much choice in the matter.”

  “If I had been sure from the start that Gladstone was really Graves I could have taken steps to prevent you from coming in contact with him.”

  Mercy glared at him warningly. “I don’t like either the direction this conversation is taking or that look in your eyes.

  He blinked owlishly. “What look in my eyes?”

  “That one that says, ‘I perceive that I may have failed to properly carry out my full and noble responsibility in this particular instance.’ A sense of responsibility is all well and good, Croft, but you have a tendency to carry it too far. What happened on that mountain was not your fault. You saved our lives and Isobel’s, too.”

  “You saved our lives by discovering that tunnel in the vault.”

  Mercy felt suddenly pleased with herself. “That was clever of me, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t have been in that vault in the first place if you had followed my orders.” Croft slipped the point of his verbal shaft in smoothly while Mercy was still preening.

  Mercy’s sense of satisfaction evaporated in the heat of her ire. “You have some nerve to start lecturing me after all I’ve been through in the past few days.”

  “What do you think I went through when Ι saw you get out of the helicopter? You nearly ruined everything.”

  Mercy chewed on her lower lip, aware of a sudden, enormous weight that felt suspiciously like guilt. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Croft. When they told me you were a prisoner I didn’t think I had any choice but to do as they said.”

  “I know,” Croft surprised her by saying. “In your shoes I probably would have done the same.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have done the same,” Mercy declared morosely. “You would have thought of some brilliant way to infiltrate the household and rescue me. Which is exactly what you did.”

  “I think we can safely say that we rescued each other. Let’s close the subject, Mercy. I can see that if I give you the lecture you deserve I’m going to have to watch you grovel while I listen to a lot of pathetic, tearful apologies.

  Mercy hesitated for an instant, aware that he just might be teasing her. “I’ll make a deal with you,” she finally said. “No more groveling apologies from me if I don’t have to listen to any more heroic claims of full responsibility for allowing me to get into danger in the first place. I can’t stand to hear you talk about how you owe me and how you always pay your debts. Agreed?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “You don’t want to bind me to you with a debt of honor,” he said slowly.

  “Is it necessary to hold you that way?” she asked gently.

  “No. The truth is, there’s nothing you could do to get rid of me.”

  Mercy smiled brilliantly. “Good.” Then she looked at him intently. “Will you want to go back to the kind of work you were doing three years ago?”

  “No. That was over long before I met you. It was time for it to be over. That’s why I opened the self-defense schools. I knew I needed something else to do with my life. I had spent long enough exploring the side of me that responds to violence. I wanted more time for studying the part that finds pleasure in logic and philosophy and another kind of strength.”

  “You seem to know yourself so well.”

  He smiled. “Most of what I’m learning about myself lately I’m learning from you.”

  “It works both ways, I think. I’ve learned a few things from you, too.” She glanced up. “Here comes the wine I ordered. Just what we need.”

  Croft watched the waiter pour the two glasses. When the man had left he picked up one glass and turned it slowly in the light, studying the clear red liquid. His eyes were thoughtful—too thoughtful.

  Mercy’s intuition told her what was going through his head. “You don’t have to worry about it, you know,” she said.

  His gaze rose to meet hers. “Worry about what?”

  “About ever getting really drunk again. You’re not your father, Croft. You didn’t drink too much the night of Gladstone’s party; you were drugged. I doubt if you will ever get genuinely drunk in your entire life, but if you do, one thing’s for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  Mercy smiled as she picked up her own glass. “We know now you’re not a mean drunk like your father was. Lecherous and horny, yes, but not mean. Even when you were high as a kite you were in full control of your dangerous side.”

  “There are times, Mercy, when you can be a great comfort.” His eyes were not at all remote as he looked at her over the rim of his glass. They were filled with warmth and love and a hint of laughter.

  “To us,” Mercy said, raising her glass to touch his.

  “To us.”

  “Oh, by the way;” Mercy began smugly, “I have something to tell you about some microfilm I found in the spine of Valley. My cleverness is going to astound you.”

  Croft groaned. “I was afraid of that.”

  It was dawn when Mercy first stirred the next morning. Without opening her eyes she edged her foot around under the covers, feeling for Croft’s solid presence. The bed was empty beside her. Perhaps Croft had gone downstairs to take the dogs out for a morning run. But when an inquiring, damp nose nuzzled her palm, she knew the dogs were still in the room.

  Mercy finally lifted her lashes and sat up slowly, careful not to make any undue noise. Croft was where she had thought he would be at that time of day. He was sitting cross-legged and motionless near the window, gazing out at the mountains in the distance. He was wearing his jeans, but nothing else.

  Mercy was grateful Croft had the basic intelligence not to risk sitting naked on a motel room carpet. There was no telling what kind of dirt might be embedded in the rug. The man had a certain amount of common sense under that rigid code of behavior, after all.

  She watched him for a moment, loving the strong, lean shape of him in the early light. Not at all ghostlike, she thought in amusement.

  Quietly she got out of bed and reached for her travel robe. The Doberman that had been checking on her went back to settle down beside its companion in the corner. Mercy went into the bathroom without disturbing Croft. When she came back out a few minutes later she knew he was almost finished with his meditation. He
hadn’t moved, but she sensed the changed level of awareness in him. She was slowly growing accustomed to the subtle link that bound them.

  “Good morning,” she said quietly and went to stand in front of him.

  His expression altered as he looked up at her. The detached quality disappeared, replaced by a direct warmth that sank into her very bones.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  Mercy smiled and sat down across from him, tucking her legs under her in imitation of his own position. “I think it’s time we talked.”

  He smiled slightly. “What about?”

  “There are a couple of questions concerning our relationship that remain to be settled.”

  “Everything is settled, Mercy.”

  She knew he meant that. She stared at him wonderingly. “Is that right?”

  “There will be a period of adjustment, but that’s not important. The only important thing is that we’re going to be together.”

  “Are we?” She felt slightly breathless.

  “I love you. The Circle of my life wouldn’t be complete without you, Mercy.”

  Glorious relief washed through her. “Oh, Croft, Ι feel the same way. Ι don’t know how it could have happened so quickly or so completely, but I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I know it in a way I can’t fully explain, a way I’ve never known anything before in my life. But I’m absolutely sure of it. I love you.”

  “When the pattern is comprehended and accepted and the Circle is complete, everything is as clear and transparent as a watercolor painting. The truth glows with life when it’s revealed.” Croft reached out and took her hand in his.

  He looked into Mercy’s eyes as the full light of dawn blazed through the window. His love for her was abundantly clear in the depths of his hazel gaze. He was right, she realized. The truth glowed with life when it was revealed. She felt his fingers tighten around her and knew that the link between them was unshakable. In some way she would probably never be able to fully explain, they belonged together and they both accepted that fact.

 

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