by Helen Conrad
He sighed and stretched his long, strong body beneath the table, leaning back and looking at her. “Have you ever been to San Francisco, Jessie?” he asked. He was trying to picture her at Top of the Mark, having cocktails, and somehow the image didn’t jell for him.
Her smile was fleeting. She had a feeling she knew what he was thinking. “No. But I’ve been to L.A.”
“L.A.’s not San Francisco.”
“No. But they’ve got just as many people per square mile up there, don’t they?” She shrugged. “Even Las Vegas is too crowded for me.”
That wasn’t quite it, and they both knew it. The truth was, she wouldn’t know how to operate in a city. She’d been born and bred to the wide-open spaces. Try as he might, Michael would never make a city person out of her. She glanced at him, wondering if he was even thinking seriously of any such thing. Perhaps he thought it would be fun to take her back to the city with him, to watch her gape at the big buildings and use the wrong fork at dinner and try to pretend she knew who Nietzsche was when his friends discussed philosophy. A flush rose on her cheeks. Never. She’d do a lot for Michael, but she would never ever risk that.
“Michael, I’m a rancher. A ranch is where I belong. Right now I’m itching to get back into jeans and I’m wondering how Smoke, my horse, is doing without me and I’m making little mental notes on some fencing material I saw advertised.” She took a long sip of her drink. “That’s me, Michael. Take it or leave it.”
He didn’t say a word, and after a long, silent moment her heart began to break a little. There was no use fooling herself. This romance was fated to be short-lived no matter what happened in the next twenty-four hours.
Suddenly Michael’s hand was on her arm, squeezing hard. “Don’t look up,” he warned. “Don’t turn around. But get ready to move fast when I say.”
Her heart leaped to her throat. “What is it?” she whispered.
His hand tightened on her arm, signaling her to silence. She waited, wishing she could see behind her. Michael’s face was tense, but excitement flowed in his eyes. Jessie made a sudden discovery. He was enjoying this!
Working with one hand, he pulled out the dark glasses and put them on. “Now,” he said urgently, pulling her to her feet. “Out the side exit.”
She moved with him around the corner, where he flattened himself against the wall and stopped her beside him. “I want you to look back,” he told her. “I want you to see him so you’ll know him the next time.”
Carefully they both peeked around the edge of the wall back into the room.
“There he is, talking to the waiter. See him? He’s starting to go bald.”
“I see him.” A moment later they hurried out into the casino and on out into the street. “Who is he?” she asked, short of breath by the time they’d reached a safe distance away,
“His name’s Bob Taylor. He and I went to school together. Now he’s a cop.”
“He didn’t see you, did he?”
“No. Not yet. But if he does, he’s going to work hard to put me away for a good long time.”
“But if you’re not guilty...”
His face was almost fierce and the effect was heightened by the flat dark lenses of the glasses he wore, which completely veiled his eyes. “Do you really think guilt or innocence matters, Jessie? My experience has been otherwise.”
Her head went back, reacting to his tone, and his face softened immediately. “You go on home,” he said, taking her in his arms and hugging her tightly. “You need some sleep.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be back when it gets light and things wind down around here. I’ll get plenty of sleep then.”
She laid the flat of her hand against his rough cheek. “Be careful,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Caught In A Web
She let herself into the silent house and went right to the den to check if Jimmy had come back. The bed was as empty as ever. She climbed the stairs wearily, going into the bedroom and dropping her clothes to the floor where she took them off. The bed felt good. She’d thought she’d never be able to sleep, but in a moment she was out, and she didn’t wake until morning, when voices roused her.
She was alert in a second, her eyes open, every nerve on edge. She jumped up and went to the bedroom door, then held her breath and listened.
“I just know someone’s been in here,” a woman’s voice was saying, getting higher and higher all the time. “I can just feel it... and look! Look here! Someone’s moved my chairs. I swear it, Sam, I know when someone’s been in my house...and Sam! Oh, my God, look at the bed in the den. Someone’s been sleeping in it! Oh, my God, call the police!”
Jessie shrank back into the room. Sheri and her husband were home. Now what? Obviously the first order of business was to make sure they didn’t call the police. Moving fast, she picked up the robe from where she’d slung it across the bed and slipped into it, tying the sash as she went down the stairs.
“Hi, Sheri,” she called cheerfully. “It’s me, Jessie.”
A slim, blond woman stared up at her. “Jessie Carrington! What on earth are you doing in my house?”
“Cerise gave me your key.”
“I can’t believe that.” A short man with dark curly hair stepped into the entry hall. “Look, Sam, it’s my cousin Jessie. Cerise gave her the key. Can you believe that?” She tried to smile, but it was obviously an effort. “It’s good to see you, Jessie, but I wish you’d let me know.”
“I know, I feel terrible about this. I would hate it if someone just came barging in and used my house when I was gone. But this was kind of an emergency and Cerise said why didn’t I just use your house since you were going to be in Chicago, anyway.”
“You were asleep upstairs, right?” Sheri looked confused. “Then who’s been sleeping in the den?”
“Uh, Jimmy.”
“Jimmy?”
“Yes, he’s this boy who’s been traveling with me. He ran away during the night and I’ve been really upset, trying to find him.” She felt as though she were spouting nonsense, but she had to keep talking to cover for the furious thinking she was doing. Glancing at Sheri’s husband, Sam, she remembered what Uncle Fred had said about his being in the Mob. He certainly looked the part.
Should she tell them about Michael? After all, Uncle Fred and Cerise knew all about him. But what about Sam? If he had criminal connections or anything else, he might be on the wrong side. What if he worked with the people who were trying to kill Michael? She couldn’t take the chance.
“Did you call the police?” Sheri asked.
“What?” She paled and clutched the banister.
Sheri appeared puzzled by her reaction. “About Jimmy. Don’t you think the police would—“
“No!” She smiled quickly to cover the vehemence of her response. “I mean, I don’t really want to get the police involved.” She looked from one to the other of them. They were still staring at her. She smiled nervously.
“I... I’m kind of in trouble. I can’t tell you about it right now. I’m sorry, I feel like such a hypocrite, coming into your house, then telling you I can’t say why, but it just wouldn’t be safe.”
“Hey.” Sam shrugged grandly. “No sweat. You’re family, right? You tell us when you’re good and ready.”
She nodded brightly. Good old Sam. He seemed to understand these things just fine. “If you could just let me stay a little, just to rest.”
Sam gestured wide. “Take all the time you need.”
She smiled her gratitude and turned to go up the stairs, then looked back. “What brought you home so early?” she asked.
“Oh.” That changed the subject beautifully. Sheri threw up her hands. “We were having a perfectly nice visit in Chicago and then Sam got into a fight with his mother and we had to leave on the next flight.” She leaned closer to Jessie, as though speaking confidentially. “You would not believe these Italian families. All they do is
scream at one another all day long. I’ve got the worst headache.”
“Yeah, we may scream a lot,” Sam said, grabbing his wife for a bear hug, “but we also love a lot, and that’s what you love about me, isn’t it, honey?”
The way Sheri giggled, Jessie knew Sam had hit the nail right on the head. She studied the man. He looked illegal, but he also looked like a warm, caring individual, and Sheri sure seemed to like him. She decided to take a chance.
“Sam, maybe you could help me with something. I’m trying to find someone. It’s really important. His name is Kerry Carter.” She watched closely, but there was nothing in Sam’s dark eyes to indicate he recognized the name. “If there’s any way you could find out for me where he is, it would probably save a life.”
Sam’s eyes sharpened as though he could read her mind, or at least was a darn good guesser. “Who’s he working for?” he asked.
“I... I don’t really know. He worked for an aviation executive named Sky Matthews in San Francisco. He was a pilot. Supposedly he’s been looking for someone to help him go against Sky Matthews now. If you know anyone who might know something, I’d sure appreciate it if you could find out where he’s staying.” She watched him carefully, wondering if what she’d done had been stupid or brilliant.
Sam nodded slowly. “Kerry Carter? It’s kind of early, but I know a few people I can call. I’ll see what I can do.”
She sighed. For some reason she believed and trusted him. “Thanks. Listen, I’ll take care of cleaning up the den in a minute.”
Sheri waved her offer away. “You go on up and get some more sleep,” she told her. “It’s barely dawn. Sam and I are going to be getting some rest, too, aren’t we, honey?”
Sam didn’t answer in words. He merely growled lustily as he attacked her neck. Jessie beat a hasty retreat up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Relief surged through her as she closed the door. Things were looking up now. She could feel it. Taking off her robe and lying down on the bed, she let her mind go over all that had happened to her in the past few days. She felt as though she’d been on a crazy carnival ride, sometimes up and racing through the clouds, sometimes down in the scary darkness, rushing toward danger. All in all, she’d probably done a year’s worth of living in this short space of time. Crazy was a good word for it.
It wasn’t long before she felt sleep coming quickly. Drowsiness had just about overtaken her, when she heard a sound and realized someone else was in her room.
Sky Matthews sat staring at the morning fog. He hadn’t moved from his leather chair all night. This was what it felt like when your back was to the wall, he thought groggily. This was what it felt like when everything you loved, everything you lived for, deserted you.
Memories had been fluttering through his mind all night, memories of his years of service and the camaraderie he’d had with his men, of his wife the day before she’d died in that car crash, of Winslow Drayton, of Michael. Memories of Vanessa when she was a little girl, of Pamela Drayton when she’d come to him one night during a windstorm. He’d thought that by possessing her he would somehow take on the Drayton mystique. But he’d been wrong. It hadn’t meant a thing, and Pamela had laughed at him. And so he’d found a way to get the Drayton diamonds from her. But that hadn’t been completely satisfying, either.
There had to be something, some way to have it all. He’d thought Michael’s marrying Vanessa might do it.
But now that dream was smashed. Nothing was going the way he’d planned it.
On the whole, he’d done what he’d set out to do with his life. He’d made a lot of money. He’d become rich and powerful. He had everything a man could possibly want.
“Everything,” he muttered aloud, “except the respect class brings with it.”
And he’d tried to buy that, taking over the Drayton aunt’s estate, controlling Winslow, trying to control Michael, first through Vanessa and finally right up front. If only Michael had married Vanessa before he’d come face-to-face with the smuggling. Surely Sky would have been able to keep him under his thumb.
It had all worked so well. Until Michael. Because of Michael he could lose everything. It was time he faced it. Michael was the fly in the ointment. Michael had to go.
He reached for the telephone, his hand shaking. Pressing the buttons with effort, he made his long distance call to Las Vegas. “Ernie?” he rasped out to the man who answered. “I’ve made up my mind. Do what you have to do. Do it now.”
“Michael!” Jessie gasped as he stepped out of the shadows and dropped down to sit on the bed, taking her in his arms.
“Hush,” he warned her, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyebrows. “They’re back. I saw.” He kissed her again, hungrily, as though he were drawing something from her that he needed badly. “I won’t stay long,” he whispered.
“How did you get in here?”
“I climbed up the drainpipe. As long as no neighbors saw me, we’re home free.”
“The truck,..?”
“I parked a block away.’’
“I didn’t tell them about you. I thought it would be better.”
“Tell them anything you want after I’ve gone,” he said, his mouth brushing hers as he spoke, nibbling at the corners of her smile. “It won’t matter anymore.”
His tone frightened her. “What is it, Michael?”
“Hush,” he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, and his lips touched hers again. His kisses were exquisitely tender, his affection overwhelming her and bringing tears stinging to her eyes. “Just let me hold you for a moment more.”
An inarticulate dread began to build in her. She felt as though they were clinging together at the edge of an abyss she didn’t dare look down into. She turned into his caress, let him drown her in his touch, his kisses, just to keep from facing what was surely coming next.
“Jessie.” The voice calling her name wasn’t Michael’s. She froze.
Sheri was at the door, knocking softly. “Jessie, do you need any clean sheets or anything?”
The first time she tried to speak, nothing came out. She tried again. “No, thanks, Sheri. I’m fine.” Then she held her breath, praying her cousin would go away.
“Jessie, I just want you to know that it’s nice to see you. I know our families have had their differences, but you and I have always been friends. At least I always thought we were.”
“Oh, yes,” she cried out in answer to her cousin. “Definitely.”
“Good. When you get up we’ll have a nice long talk.”
“Sure. See you a little later.”
The footsteps retreated down the hall. Jessie looked at Michael. His face was hard, closed to her. “What’s wrong?” she said. “What’s happening?”
He touched her cheek. “It’s over for you, Jessie. I want you out of here. I want you to go back to the ranch.” He pulled out some bills and put them on the bed. “There you go. That’s what you’ve wanted all along. Bus fare home.”
That hadn’t been what she wanted for a very long time. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he understand anything? She stared at the money, repelled by it. “I don’t want to go.”
“But, Jessie, you have to. I don’t want to have to worry about you any longer. I want you safe.” He moved impatiently. “I’ve been selfish to keep you with me this long as it is.” He hesitated. “Look, I met a man just a little while ago who knows something about Sky and his operation. He’s a dealer at one of the casinos downtown and he’s been around for years, seems to know everything. He told me there was a move to oust Sky about ten years ago. Two of the leaders of the movement were shot to death. The third disappeared and his body was never found.”
She hated hearing this, but it didn’t weaken her resolve. “I don’t have anything to do with Sky Matthews. What would anyone do to me?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”
She was shaking her head, her long hair flying around her. “I won’t leave you. I can’t.”<
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He took her shoulders in his hands and forced her to look into his face. “Listen, Jessie. These are rough boys we’re dealing with. I’m getting close and I don’t know how they’re going to react when I do get there.”
Her eyes widened anxiously. “You heard something about where Kerry is?”
He hesitated. “I’ve got some stronger leads,” he said. “This same contact has promised to take me to someone who might help me find Kerry a little later today. I’m going to have to leave in a minute to meet him. But I had to come back and warn you to get out of town. I want you to go home.”
He wanted to protect her. He wanted her out of the way when the shooting started. That meant he expected danger and, very possibly, a tragic end to this journey of theirs. Didn’t he see that those very elements made it mandatory that she be here with him?
There was only one way out of this nightmare that she could see. She put a hand on his arm. “What is this all really for?” she asked him. “How long can you go on combing the streets for clues, just asking to get victimized? Don’t you think it’s time you went to the authorities and tried to reason with them? They may throw you in jail, but at least they won’t kill you.”
The warmth in his face drained away and his eyes hardened to steely silver. “No,” he said fiercely. “I’ll never go back to jail. Understand that, Jessie. I’ll die first.” He rose from the bed and moved away from her, and at the same time she could feel a wall coming between them, as though he’d closed down the side of his emotions that had been open for her. He looked at her as though she were a stranger. “Go home, Jessie,” he said again. “Go as fast as you can.”
They both heard the car pulling up in front of the house. Michael went to the window and drew back the curtain a crack so that he could see down into the front yard.
“It’s the cops,” he said with certainty. “Only cops drive such mediocre, nondescript cars.” She rose from the bed, reaching for her robe, “It’s Bob Taylor,” he said, turning back from the window. “And he’s got backup.”