by Dee Lloyd
“Damn!” he said. “I need every minute there is if I’m going to find that evidence. I don’t have time to convince Bronwyn to leave well enough alone.”
Matt had made progress this morning; he’d found combinations of numbers on several lists that could belong to offshore bank accounts and had intended to spend the evening checking them against a highly confidential data base.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Reenie said. He could see she was bewildered by his explosion. Well, so was he.
“Yes, I do,” he decided. “You driving the marina truck would be a novelty. No one will pay any attention to me. We’ll keep the visit short.”
In spite of their best intentions, their stay was anything but short. Bronwyn greeted them at the door, reserved as usual but clearly curious about what had sent Reenie fleeing from her handsome, popular fiancé.
“Hello Matt. Reenie. Or is it Maura?” Bronwyn added with a raised eyebrow.
“I was called Reenie until my parents died and I moved in with my grandparents. Irene was from my mother’s family,” Reenie informed her crisply. “Gran insisted I be called Maura.”
As soon as they were seated in her bright, orderly living room, Bronwyn asked, “Now, tell me. Why would you imagine that Jon Casen wants to kill you?”
“It’s not a delusion, Wyn.” Matt’s tone of voice held a distinct warning that he was not going to tolerate any bullying or ridiculing of his woman.
“The simplest way to convince you to believe my story is to start with these,” Reenie said, handing her the envelope of photographs. “They were the first clue that nothing about Jon was what I thought it was.”
When Bronwyn pulled the photographs from the envelope, her jaw dropped open and her eyes widened in shock.
“Where did you get these?” she whispered. “Can they be real?”
“I’m afraid so,” Reenie replied. “From what I understand, Danny DiMarco, who was Jon’s silent partner in the lodge and some suspicious financial dealings, hired a private detective to follow Jon and to get evidence he could use to pressure him to return a great deal of money Jon had stolen from their business.”
She went on to detail the events of that fateful Sunday evening and the brutal murder she’d witnessed. She and Matt had decided as they drove into town that she should omit all mention of Walt Ames. His secrets were not theirs to reveal.
“After the old car I bought exploded, Matt brought me to the marina. And you know most of what’s happened since,” Reenie concluded.
“But the kidnapping!” Bronwyn exclaimed. She stopped. “There was no kidnapping.” She paused, then went on the attack again. “Your grandmother said you were unbalanced!”
Being confused was a new sensation for Bronwyn and, obviously, not one she liked.
“Hold on, Wyn,” he said. “Reenie is the victim here. She didn’t make up any of those wild stories. Gladys Fitzpatrick hasn’t seen those photos. She still believes every lying word that comes out of Jon Casen’s mouth.”
“Gran’s trying to recapture her glory days when she was the Governor’s lady. Jon’s her ticket back into the limelight. She’d rather believe that I’m delusional than that she was wrong about her political hopeful.”
“Casen started the kidnapping rumor to explain Reenie’s body after his men found her,” Matt added. “Then he moved in with Gladys so he could intercept Reenie’s calls.”
“How do you know that?” Bronwyn snapped. She apparently wasn’t any happier than Gladys Fitzpatrick would be at seeing her hero stripped of his clothing and along with it, every scrap of his veneer of morality and dignity.
“We got that information from a federal special agent who has been working undercover and is very close to Casen.”
Bronwyn sat back against the cushions of her overstuffed sofa. “You have to tell Gus everything you know,” she ruled. “You know you can trust Gus Schroeder to do the right thing, Matt.”
Matt drew a deep breath.
“We can’t do that,” he told her patiently. “Reenie’s testimony will be extremely important for a number of reasons we can’t explain to you right now. Revealing her location to anyone before the time is right could jeopardize her life. Not to mention two years’ worth of undercover work. You have to give us your word you won’t say anything to Gus until we have enough evidence to nail Casen and the big names he’s involved with.”
Powerful headlight beams interrupted the conversation. Through the filmy glass curtains, Matt could see the unmistakable outline of Gus Schroeder’s patrol car.
“You couldn’t wait to hear what we had to say, could you, Wyn?” he whirled furiously on his sister.
“I did not call him,” she snapped back. “I wasn’t expecting Gus tonight. He was supposed to be out of town.”
“Go upstairs, Reenie,” Matt said. “Wyn’s room’s at the back of the house. We’ll get rid of Gus eventually. Wait there. I’ll come up when he’s gone.”
Reenie grabbed her purse and the envelope of photos off the table beside Bronwyn and rushed up the stairs to the dark hallway above. She had barely made it out of sight when she heard the front door opening and the sound of Gus’s voice.
“Hi, beautiful. Do you have a cup of coffee for a tired cop? I’m sorry I didn’t make it to Tommy’s party this afternoon, but I’ve spent the past fifteen hours chasing my tail around Bay City and Midland and points north.”
“I thought you were going hunting,” she heard Matt say. He must have come out of the living room to greet Gus.
“Oh, didn’t expect to find you here, Matt. Where’s the ‘housekeeper’?” Gus’s teasing laugh sounded cheerful, if weary. Reenie could hear no trace of steely purpose in his voice.
“Keeping house, I guess.” Matt’s answering laugh was just uncertain enough. Was he trying to explain her possible sudden departure?
“Trouble in love-land?”
“Reenie needed a little privacy,” Matt said. His tone of voice indicated that he’d said all he was going to say on the topic.
“Well, Matt,” Gus said, “I thought I was going hunting, too, until Will Franks called me at eleven o’clock last night. Walt Ames offered to pass on whatever leads he received on the GEL hot line. Will’s resources are stretched to the limit with this murder investigation, and he asked me if I’d lend him a man or two to help check them out. Turns out the only man available was me. Goodbye hunting trip. Hello Walt Ames’ scenic tour.”
“Any luck?”
“Nothing.”
Their matter-of-fact voices faded as they moved into the living room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Reenie moved cautiously down the hall. The first door on her left was wide open. A well-placed Batman night-light enabled her to see Tommy lying sound asleep in what looked to be a handcrafted mate’s bed. She inched along to the next open door.
This room was dark but she could see the dim outline of a bed and the sheen of a mirror over a long dresser. From the lingering scent of lavender and another delicate flowery perfume in the room, she figured this must be Bronwyn’s bedroom. Matt’s sister was an interesting mix of imperious matriarch and ultra-feminine woman. She cared deeply about her family. Luckily, so far she didn’t seem to see Reenie as a threat to them. Reenie knew the moment that perception changed she would be in real trouble. The problem was that every minute she stayed at the marina, she was endangering Bronwyn’s family.
Reenie sat down on the bed in the silent room and assessed her situation. Gus appeared to be unaware that she was the woman he was trying to find. That was a plus - at least, so long as Bronwyn didn’t bull ahead and tell him. Walt, apparently, was keeping Gus occupied. That was another plus. However, life at the marina was becoming more complicated by the minute. Maybe Walt was right. She should leave.
She’d known Matt barely two weeks. Although it was hard to imagine trying to carry on her life without him, she could feel the hot breath of her pursuers raising the short, dyed hairs on the back of her neck. Most of the h
unters were faceless. Any of the people she met on the street or in a shop could be willing to deliver her to Sal Gerardo for the twenty thousand dollar bounty - or hand her over to Jon out of the misdirected goodness of their hearts. She didn’t think she’d ever met the Detroit men Jon had commissioned to kill her. The only enemies who had faces she’d recognize were Jon and Wilson.
She could still head for her cabin. Pete would lend her one of the marina pickups. As a safe haven, it would only be temporary but it had the advantage of being a place where she endangered no one but herself. She still had the handgun Matt had taken from the man at the lodge. Could she aim a gun at someone with the intention of killing him? Judging by the number of people who shot each other every day, it couldn’t be that difficult. After all, it would be someone who wanted to kill her. Nausea rose in her throat. That kind of thinking led to hysteria.
Oh, what were they talking about down there? Did Matt still have his sister under control or would Reenie be hearing the solid tread of Gus’ feet coming up the stairs at any moment?
Matt. It all came back to Matt. Reenie had promised she would be honest with him. And that she wouldn’t leave the marina without telling him first. He’d blame himself if she left and anything happened to her. Then, too, when they’d arrived at the apartment after dinner, he’d seemed confident that he was on the brink of finding the information Walt needed to put Jon behind bars.
She loathed indecision. Surely she had the gumption to make up her mind one way or the other. All right. She would stay one more day. She would have one more night in Matt’s arms.
Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. Light from the streetlight across the road filtered dimly through the gauzy curtains and glanced off the large mirror on the opposite wall. The double bed she was sitting on was covered with a satin spread and piled high with silky pillows. Even without seeing the colors, she couldn’t miss the sensuality of the room.
She slipped off her shoes and leaned back against the pillows and thought about Pete’s children. Both were unexpectedly multi-faceted. One was particularly fascinating.
The next thing she knew, she was being cradled in strong arms and a deep voice was chuckling in her ear.
“Come on, sleepy head,” Matt said, softly. “Time to get home to your own bed.”
“The birthday party wore her out,” Bronwyn said. “And she’s been under a lot of strain.”
“You didn’t tell Gus,” Reenie sat up, wide awake at the sound of Bronwyn’s voice.
“To be fair, I’ll give Matt some time to search Jon’s files.”
“We’d better get home then. I can’t do anything about those files here,” Matt said.
The gleam in his eyes as he pulled her slowly up off Bronwyn’s silken bed hinted strongly that he was not planning to devote the whole night to the computer.
“Let’s go home then,” she murmured, feeling the answering heat rising in her cheeks.
Chapter Seventeen
Matt kept her hand firmly nestled in his, even when he shifted gears, as they sped down the dark road towards the marina. His thumb caressed her palm until she thought she would go crazy with anticipation. It was as if he, too, realized that their time together was almost over.
He left the Jeep abandoned rather than parked at the bottom of the exterior stairs, not bothering to close his door and pulling Reenie after him as he ran up the steps. He fumbled a bit unlocking the apartment door, but at last, he got it open.
She hurled herself into his arms and pulled the tail of his knit shirt out of his jeans. She needed his smooth, hot flesh against her. He yanked the shirt up over his head, did the same with her sweater, then, in one swift movement, divested himself of everything else he was wearing.
“Reenie…Reenie,” he repeated over and over, covering her face and neck with kisses, as he pushed her jeans and panties down past her hips. “I need you now.”
Not quite sure why he was so frantic to bury himself inside her tonight, he hauled her back into his arms. Reenie seemed to be possessed by the same demon. She kicked off her shoes, stepped out of the jeans that had slid down around her ankles, then wrapped her legs around his waist.
He didn’t waste time or energy speaking but picked her up and carried her to the couch. They sank down together. His tongue plunged into her mouth as if tasting her again was essential to his survival. Perhaps it was.
Their coming together was quick but cataclysmic in its intensity. At the very moment Reenie cried out his name, Matt exploded inside her. He felt as if the heat and the momentum of their passion had caught his soul, fused it with Reenie’s, then whirled their united essences like a tornado on a new and totally unpredictable path. Reenie collapsed against his chest.
“My God, sweetheart,” he said, when he had enough breath to speak. “Did I hurt you?”
She raised her head and gazed at him with her large eyes still unfocussed from the passion of their wild lovemaking. Slowly and with a strangely sad expression on her face, she shook her head.
“I love you, Mattias,” she whispered.
She climbed off his lap and took his hand. Slowly she drew him with her to their bed. Stunned by her revelation, like a man in a trance, he went with her. He didn’t know if the emotion that he was drowning in was love, but he did know that Reenie belonged to him now. And, heaven help anyone who tried to take her away from him.
Dawn was just breaking when Reenie made her way slowly towards Pete’s house to begin the baking she’d promised for the GEL fundraiser. Pearly swirls of mist were rising off the bay, dissolving into the crisp autumn air. The songbirds were long gone. The only sounds were the crunching of the gravel under her running shoes and the lapping of the waves on the shore. The scene was deceptively peaceful. She shivered and shrugged deeper into Bronwyn’s warm ski jacket.
It was too easy to imagine one of Jon’s or Gerardo’s thugs materializing out of the mist. That was foolish thinking. The dogs were patrolling the perimeter of the property and would raise the alarm if any stranger tried to enter.
Think about something else. The night she’d just spent in Matt’s arms had been wonderful. He hadn’t told her he loved her in words, but there had been love in the tenderness of his lingering caresses when he’d wakened her a little while ago. She was glad she’d told him how she felt about him. The unacceptable possibility that something terrible might happen to Matt because of her weighed heavily on her mind. At any moment, she might have to run again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jon’s men were getting nearer by the second. However, no matter how abruptly she had to leave, she wanted Matt to know she’d never forget him. She could feel the pain of her heart breaking already.
She picked up her pace and jogged up the back steps to the house. Luckily, she had a busy morning of baking planned. She could concentrate her energies on that. She did that so successfully that only three hours later she was found herself icing the last of the chocolate brownies she had decided to add to the tarts and cookies she’d promised to make for Bronwyn.
She still had the spatula in her hand when Tommy burst into the kitchen.
“Reenie!” he called.
When she turned, smiling, to greet him, the light of a flash bulb dazzled her momentarily.
“Say ‘Cheese,’” he shouted, snapping a second picture. “That should be a good one,” he exclaimed proudly, advancing the film in his new camera. “Hi, Reenie. That’s number sixteen on this film.”
“And that’s on his third film since yesterday,” his mother added as she plunked a pile of folded bakery boxes on the table. “This little dynamo did fall asleep eventually last night but he woke up this morning just as wired as he was all day yesterday.”
She caught sight of the laden counter. “Oh, Reenie! Everything looks terrific. They’ll be the hit of the sale.”
Reenie was relieved at Bronwyn’s breezy attitude. Apparently, she was going to ignore last night’s revelations, at least for now.
“Morning
, Dad.” Bronwyn kissed her father on the cheek.
“I thought I’d give you some help at the sale,” Pete said, as he began to help her unfold the bakery boxes.
At Bronwyn’s concerned look, he growled, “Sitting at a table taking money won’t wear me out. I won’t be back until suppertime, Reenie.”
So it was that Reenie arrived at the apartment while Matt was still on the telephone.
“It’s Walt,” he said, indicating that he wanted her to pick up the extension he’d installed in the bedroom.
“We had some excitement yesterday,” Matt said. He gave Walt the bare facts of Bronwyn’s call from Sandra Field. “Wyn’s agreed to keep our secret for now. We kept you out of it completely.”
Walt’s expletive was short and expressive. “Sorry, Reenie,” he said, “but we’re getting too many non-players involved here. This Sandra woman seems determined to broadcast your identity.”
“She’s an old flame of Matt’s who’d like to clear the field for another chance at him.” She felt a stab of jealousy at the mere thought of Matt with the other woman, even that long ago.
“That’s ridiculous,” Matt denied flatly. “Until this week, I haven’t seen or talked to Sandra for years.”
“Whatever her motive, she’s the only caller we’ve had with the right location. The flow of sightings has dried up to a trickle but the Field woman called the line again yesterday. She even identified herself. She’s the main reason I’m going to have to hover here over those phones.”
Walt hesitated. “And I guess I should tell you that I happened to stop at a donut shop to pick up some coffee on my way to the office this morning, and saw one of Sheriff Frank’s deputies talking to a guy I know works for Sal Gerardo once in a while. Now, that could be completely innocent, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Anyway, I’ll see to it that the sheriff’s office doesn’t get any valid leads from us. And you make sure no one else gets a good look at you, Reenie.”