Darling Deceiver

by Daphne Clair

  'Oh, yes,' he said pleasantly, but with a cruel glint in his eyes. 'Small talk. Cows and farming and the policeman's lot with that young cop, in the car. Other men's wives with me.'

  'On the whole, I think the cows were more interesting,' she said.

  'Or the policeman?' he taunted. 'Did you make a date to see him again?'

  'Don't be silly. We were only making conversation in the car to pass the time.'

  Morris put his head round the door to enquire, 'Tea or coffee?'

  Carissa got up and said, 'I'll come and help you.' She hadn't asked Cade the question that was burning on her tongue—did-you love Carlotta? But she knew what the answer would have been. Cade loved no one. Then why was he prepared to risk his life to try and help Carlotta's husband? Because that was what he intended to do.

  Did he have a guilty conscience?'

  She pictured Carlotta to herself—it was a pretty name, dark, exciting, Spanish. Would. that have described the woman, too? Another of the foolish questions she would have liked to ask Cade. Was she pretty? Of course she had been pretty. Cade's women always were, she reminded herself, deliberately.

  Carlotta had died in his car, the policeman had said. An accident, then. With Cade driving. Obviously, her husband believed him responsible. With sudden pain, she wondered if Cade blamed himself, too. Was that why he had said he wanted to talk to Gomez for his

  wife's sake? Because he owed it to Carlotta, whose death he had caused? -

  She took him his cup of coffee while Morris followed with a plate of toast and cheese, and they sat eating and drinking with a false air of normality. Morris seemed to have conquered an initial nervousness and was full of businesslike plans for sharing a night watch with Cade.

  When the cups were emptied Carissa collected them and took them to the kitchen, finding Cade behind her as she put them into the sink and poured hot water and detergent over them. In the events of the day she had almost forgotten that he didn't trust her. The sudden reminder was surprisingly painful.

  In a brittle voice she enquired, 'Did you think I'd slip out the back door? Or wave a tea-towel to signal my accomplice, perhaps?'

  'Perhaps,' he agreed, with a hint of amusement lightening the grim note in his voice. He surprised her by taking a tea-towel and drying up with quiet competence. The small domestic chore was so at variance with his fantastic suspicions of her and the whole wildly unlikely situation that for a moment she was tempted into hysterical laughter, a small strangled gasp

  of mirth escaping before she could stop herself.

  Cade looked at her sharply and asked, 'What's so

  funny?'

  'I couldn't possibly explain,' she said. 'It isn't really funny, anyway.'. Nothing was funny, when she remembered that someone wanted to kill Cade, and that he had arbitrarily told the police to keep off. Carlotta being dead wasn't 'funny, either.

  Something else that the policeman had said recurred to her, and she asked, 'What happened to Carlotta's child?'

  'She's probably with her grandmother. Carlotta left her with her own mother when she came to see me.'

  Stiffly, wishing she had never brought the subject up, Carissa said, 'I. see.' Of course the woman wouldn't have brought her small daughter with her on her visits to her lover. She supposed Cade had never seen the child, and had no interest in her.

  'More small talk?' Cade mocked. 'What else would you like to know?'

  'I was merely concerned about the child,' she said. 'I happen to like children and have this notion that it's up to the adults of this world to care about them when they're getting a raw deal.'

  He was silent, and she looked up to find. him regarding her with an unreadable look. Uncharacteristically, he looked away again immediately and continued with -his self-imposed task.

  Carissa pulled the plug and watched the sudsy water disappear down the drain. It promised, she thought, to be another long night.

  Carissa would have liked to go to her room early, if not to sleep, at least to remove herself from the tension of being-with Cade. But when she made a move he forestalled her by smoothly suggesting a game of chess, with a glint in his eye that warned her she had better accept. They had played once or twice at the lodge, and Morris displayed a handsome chess set on one of the low tables in the lounge.

  Morris watched for a while, then said he would go to bed and take his turn at going on watch after midnight.

  When he had gone, Carissa pushed the board away and said, 'Are you going to keep me up all night?'

  'Are you tired?'

  'Yes. It's been a rough day.'

  'All right, go to bed. Leave your door open—and remember I have very good hearing.'

  She left the door ajar and climbed into bed after a

  quick wash, and an equally quick change into a cool silky nightdress. She had switched off the light and was lying on her back, contemplating the darkness with depression and foreboding, when the door swung open and subdued light from the lounge behind him out lined Cade's dark figure.

  Sitting up, she pushed herself back on the pillows and hissed, 'What do you want?'

  `Just checking,' he murmured. 'You haven't moved for five minutes.'

  `Oh—go away!' she said fiercely, turning her back on him and her face into the pillow.

  She heard him move, but not away—instead he was crossing the room to her window, and as she rolled over to watch him he turned and came over to the bed.

  'Go away ! ' she whispered.

  'I'm not going to touch you,' he said with faint contempt, and sat down on the side of the bed, his hand coming down on the other side of her.

  'If you do, I'll scream,' she told him. 'For Morris—and the police.'

  'Don't threaten me,' he said on a warning note. 'And stop panicking. I said I won't touch you.'

  'I'm not panicking,' she snapped. 'You don't frighten me!'

  `Don't I! ' His brief smile, white in the shadowed dark, seemed to disbelieve her. 'Then it's something else that makes you nervous of me.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  `Just the difference between you and Morris's description of his cool, capable, unflappable assistant. With me you tend to be emotional, highly-strung, rather volatile. One moment you're a passionate, tantalising woman, the next .a frightened little girl, or a spitting cat.'

  'I'm sorry,' she said stiffly, 'if I haven't lived up to

  what Morris told you about me. If you're disappointed,

  'Oh, I wouldn't say that! I find it rather—exciting,' he told her.

  She was silent, fighting a sudden wave of excitement of her own; the darkness about them seemed alive, enveloping the two of them in a warm intimate embrace, a heightened awareness of each other. He hadn't moved, but she felt suddenly that he was closer to her, and his voice came softly, persuasively. 'Tell me the truth about something, Carissa.'

  'Do you think I can?' she asked, gently bitter.

  He waited before he spoke again, then asked quietly, 'How have you thought of me, in the past eight years? ' With hatred? Because I didn't live up to your fantasy —oh, I know I was cruel. It was a new experience for me, too, you see. The only time in my life I've ever made love to a virgin.' ,

  So he hadn't been entirely lying when he said she was special.

  'Did it bother you?' she asked.

  'You know it did,. That's why I was so rough on you. I felt guilty—can't you understand that?'

  Carissa was silent, and he said, 'You haven't answered my question.'

  'I've tried not to think of you at all,' she told him. 'There was nothing I wanted to remember.'

  'Nothing?'

  'What should there be?' she cried softly. 'Shame, humiliation—pain? Why should I want to remember?'

  Cade was perfectly still, but she had the sudden conviction she had shocked him. 'I'm sorry,' he said in a strained voice. 'If you'd been older it would have been easier to remedy that. Or if I'd known before ' He stopped, and said with faint harshness, 'I hope your ne
xt lover proved more—satisfactory.'

  'What next lover?' she said bitterly, suddenly sick of

  the pretence. 'I've had no other lovers.'

  He drew in a sharp breath and leaned over to switch on the bedside light. 'What?'

  She turned away from the blaze of light, from his eyes, closing, hers. `There's been no one,' she said wearily. 'Never anyone but you.'

  She felt his appalled gaze on her face, but couldn't look at him.

  `Did I hurt you so much?' he said. Then, bleakly: `My God, no wonder you hate me.'

  His weight left the bed and the light snapped 'off. She heard him leave the room, and flung an arm up over her eyes as slow, hot tears trickled on to the pillow.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOME sound must have wakened her, and her eyes flew open in sudden fear as she saw the bulky figure near the window, silhouetted against the light from a street lamp that filtered through the curtains. The light suddenly blinked out, leaving the room in utter blackness except for a bright sliver that edged into it from the nearly closed door.

  'Cade?' she whispered at the nearly invisible figure.

  The man moved suddenly, with such nervous haste that she knew it wasn't Cade—or Morris. She threw back the blankets, scrambling for the door, screaming, 'Cade!' And the man lunged ,and caught her, pinning her flailing arms, hauling her backwards against him as she came off the bed, stopping her frantic struggles with a soft-voiced warning in vaguely familiar accents: 'I've got a knife here; girl. Shut up and keep still.'

  And when Cade snapped on the light and flung the 'door open, with Morris, dishevelled and bleary-eyed behind him, Gomez had her in front of him, the slim, wicked blade poised at her throat.

  Cade stopped dead, and Morris began to retreat hastily, muttering, 'Phone—'

  'Phone anyone and she's dead!' snarled Gomez, and Morris paled and stopped uncertainly in his tracks.

  Cade looked taut and furious. 'Leave her alone, Gomez! You've nothing against her. Only me.'

  He made a move forward, and Gomez jerked the knife suddenly until Carissa felt its cold menace on her skin, barely touching.

  Cade stopped, his face pale, eyes dangerous. 'You hurt her, in any way, Gomez, and I won't hand you

  over to the cops. I'll personally kill you, and it won't be easily.'

  `Your girl, is she?' the man asked meaningly, and Cade's face was suddenly shuttered.

  `She's just a girl,' he said. 'She's got nothing to do with what's between you and me, that's all.'

  The man's breath was hot on Carissa's cheek as he said softly, 'I think she's your girl.'

  'No,' she said. 'He thinks I've been helping you, Mr Gomez.

  She felt a momentary loosening of his hold, but it didn't last long enough for her to take advantage of it. She wondered if the Inspector had deliberately allowed Gomez to enter the flat or if he had eluded them. If they knew he was here, surely before long they would come ...

  `Why. should she help me?' the man asked Cade, sneeringly.

  `Because she's another person who hates me,' Cade said calmly. 'Let her go.' Carissa saw Morris trying unsuccessfully to look blank.

  `You must think I'm stupid!' said Gomez. 'She was with you at the lake.'

  Morris intervened. 'She works for me,' he said. 'It wasn't her idea to accompany him. Or his.'

  `You came to get me, Gomez,' said Cade. `So stop hiding behind a woman—'

  `I'm not hiding.'

  `Using her, then—the way you used Carlotta.'

  The arm about Carissa tightened with tension, and she felt the angry breath that the man drew behind her.

  Cade went on, tauntingly, 'You used your wife, didn't you, Gomez? You sent her to me—told her to sell her lovely body to me—'

  The man let out a mindless, inarticulate sound that was almost animal in its rage and pain, and Carissa was

  pushed aside as he launched himself at Cade.

  Morris ran forward as Cade seemed about to crouch, then swiftly kicked upwards at the hand holding the knife. `Keep out of it, Morris ! ' he growled, dodging in, under the descending knife and grabbing Gomez's wrist with both his hands, giving a ,twist that sent the man to the floor. Cade moved again with unbelievable speed, half standing, and somehow the knife was in his hand, and Gomez lay spread eagled on the floor, staring with impotent hatred into the glittering dark eyes above him as Cade held the knife inches from him.

  Cade said quietly, 'Now—up, Gomez. Slowly. You and I are going to talk.'

  Someone was hammering on the outer door, Carissa realised. Morris made an uncertain movement and Cade said, 'Tell the Inspector everything is under control, and don't open the door.' To Gomez, he said, as the man rose, his wary eyes on the knife in Cade's hand, 'Into the other room, and sit down.'

  The policemen on the other side of the door argued, but at Cade's insistence Morris was adamant. `Tell him no one comes in without a search warrant,' Cade ordered. 'And if they break down the door there'll be claims for damage and trespass that'll lose the Inspector his job..

  He had Gomez sitting in a chair, and he seated himself not far away, still holding the knife. Carissa had slipped on a wrap and was standing at the doorway of her bedroom, her hands unconsciously clutching at the thin fabric that crossed at her waist. Without taking his eyes from Gomez, Cade asked, 'Are you all right, Carissa?'

  'Yes.' She hoped he wasn't going to make her go away. Gomez might be quiet and still, now, but he was flicking glances at that knife in a way that made her certain he was only waiting for a chance to take it again and finish what he had come to do.

  Morris said, 'They say they've got a warrant, and if we don't open up they'll prosecute me for harbouring a criminal.'

  Carissa protested, 'let them take him

  away.'

  'No. Ask them to give me half an hour,' said Cade.

  There was more calling through the door, and Morris promised to open it in half an hour. Cade said, `Morris, if you want to leave, it's up to you.'

  Morris shook his head, and Cade said, 'Carissa?' `I'll stay,' she said.

  `Would one of you get Mr Gomez a drink?' he said. Morris poured some whisky, which the man eyed with suspicion, then drank at a gulp.

  'Do you smoke?' Cade asked.

  Gomez shook his head. Amazingly, he looked no different from the day he had convinced Carissa he was just a harmless birdwatcher, at the lake.

  Cade said quietly, 'I apologise for what I said about your wife, it was the only way I could think of to get you to go for me. She came to see me of her own accord

  He was stopped by a string of names from Gomez that made Carissa blink. Cade simply sat with an expressionless face until the man ran out of abuse.

  ,Now shut up and listen for a change,' he said, with a steely note in his voice. 'You are insulting your wife's memory, Gomez. She was never my mistress, and you should be ashamed at yourself for even thinking she would ever be disloyal to you. She loved you, that's why she came and asked me for money—'

  `Why should you give her money—for nothing?' Gomez shouted. 'I saw the cheque she had on her when she died. Thousands of dollars ! You paid her off, didn't you? Got sick of her and paid her off ! '

  'No!' Cade leaned forward. 'I knew Carlotta when we were both barely more than children—she was a

  friend of my sister. Well, I lost touch with her—and with my sister. But my name was in the news, Carlotta knew where to find me. She came and told me that she needed money—a lot of it, to get away to another state and start a new life, with you and your daughter. She was afraid for you, Gomez. Afraid that you would be forced to work for the brotherhood, that her daughter would have a criminal father, that you would be involved in crime again, maybe caught. She was desperate, and I was the only source she could think of for the kind of money that was needed.'

  `So you gave it to her—just like that? You expect me to believe that? Then what was she doing in your car, eh? When you crashed it and killed her?'

  'It was an a
ccident, Gomez. The other driver was at fault—he'd been drinking, he was going too fast, the car came round a bend and went out of control. You must have been told that by the police—'

  'Police! They protect the people with the money

  Did you kill her on purpose? Did you write that cheque and then kill her so she could never use it?'

  `Don't be insane! My manager and I were lucky to get out of the wreck with our lives. We both spent some time in hospital. Carlotta was in the front passenger seat she got the worst of it, and I'm very sorry. But I can't bring her back to life for you. No one can.'

  Carissa caught her breath at the torment in the man's eyes as he looked up at Cade. More gently, Cade said, 'We were taking her home—to you. We had to go to a recording session and were going to drop her on the way. She intended to pick your daughter up and then go home and tell you the good news. A new life for all of you. I'm sorry.'

  The man was silent, glaring.

  'It's true,' Cade insisted. 'I swear it's true. Carlotta came to me asking for help for old times' sake. I gave it to her. And all she gave me in return was her thanks.'

  `Why?' Gomez asked gratingly. 'Why should you do that for her?'

  Cade hesitated for the first time. 'Because once she was my sister's friend,' he said. 'I haven't heard from my sister since she ran away at thirteen. Maybe she's dead, I don't know. I made my name and my money too late to help my little sister, Mr Gomez, but I know she would have wanted me to help Carlotta. That's why.'

  Gomez was shaking his head, but the look on his face was bewildered rather than rejecting. 'No,' he said. `No. I can't believe it.'

  `You'd rather believe your wife was selling herself to the highest bidder?' Cade asked coldly.

  The man jumped up, pushing himself to his feet and forward in one swift movement. But Cade was up, too, moving to one side, the knife held in readiness in his hand.

  Carissa had automatically moved, too, coming closer in some futile but instinctive desire to support Cade. As the two men faced each other, she said shakily, `Please, Mr Gomez, can't you see he's telling you the truth?. You loved your wife—you don't really believe that of her. You're angry because she's dead. But it's no use being angry. It wasn't Cade's fault. It wasn't yours. Nobody's to blame, Mr Gomez.'