Darling Deceiver

by Daphne Clair

  He suddenly looked at her for the first time, then he. collapsed on to the chair he had just left, burying his head in his hands, his breath coming in great painful gasps.

  'I know,' he said. 'I know, I know.'

  Cade threw down the knife on the coffee table nearby, and Gomez didn't even glance at it. Carissa moved

  forward and went on her knees beside the man's chair,

  her hand on his knee. He took it in his, clutching at her

  fingers, and looking at her said painfully, as though

  explaining something important to her, 'She was so

  beautiful, my wife—Carlotta. She's too beautiful to be dead.'

  'I'm so sorry,' she whispered, swallowing a lump in her throat at the agony in his eyes. 'Does your little girl look like her?'

  He nodded, the agony fading a fraction. 'Rita—yes. She's—she's like her mother. She misses her, you know.'

  'She'll be missing you, too,' said Carissa. 'Shouldn't you be getting back to her? Carlotta would want you to be with her—wouldn't she?'

  'Yes. But I've been stupid. I guess the child will be okay with her grandmother, until—until I get out of jail.' He took a long, deep breath, and looked up at Cade. 'Guess you'd better open that door.'

  'Open the door, Morris,' said Cade. 'And tell the Inspector Mr Gomez would like to talk to him.'

  The Inspector looked more than a trifle put out, and even more so when he had issued the conventional police warning to Gomez, and Cade enquired smoothly, 'May I ask on what charges you intend to hold my friend Mr Gomez, Inspector?'

  'Friend?' the Inspector barked in astonishment. 'Perhaps I should make it clear Mr Gomez is here at my invitation,' Cade said patiently.

  'Invitation? So he sneaks through a forced window, armed with a knife?'

  'You mean this?' Cade negligently picked up the knife from the table and fingered it. 'This is mine, Inspector—a gift from a friend. You'll find my fingerprints all over it, if you care to check.'

  Tightlipped, the Inspector said, 'No doubt. Do I take it you don't intend to press charges of trying to murder you, either today or by shooting at you yesterday?'

  'Attempted murder? That's a serious charge, Inspector. I wouldn't dare accuse anyone of that unless I had very good evidence.'

  'Neither would I, Mr—Franklin. We have witnesses who heard the shots.

  'I wasn't shot, Inspector. Even the boat is unmarked.' 'They also saw the man trying to evade you and your—bodyguards.'

  'Hoy, many saw the man's face? We lost him, Inspector, unfortunately. Disappeared into thin air, apparently—never saw him again. Some crazy guy, duck-shooting, maybe, careless with his gun.'

  'I could subpoena you, Mr Franklin. And your two friends.

  'You could, but I'd be an uncooperative witness. On the other hand, I think you'll find Mr Gomez quite cooperative, on the subject of a matter of great interest to your colleagues back in my home state. He has a little girl back there, you know, and an interest in keeping certain characters away from her. By the way,' he added, turning to the man now standing between two burly policemen, 'you never used that cheque. I'll be happy if you would accept another—for your little girl's sake, to help you move her to another state. For my sister's sake.'

  'Thanks,' the man said huskily.

  'Sister?' the policeman queried sharply. 'Was Gomez's wife your sister?' he asked Cade suspiciously.

  'You're quick, Inspector, but wrong,' Cade said, 'No.' His eyes went to Gomez. 'But I wish she had been. I would have been proud of her.'

  It seemed to Carissa that the last remnant of suspicion disappeared from Gomez's eyes then.

  They took him away, and Morris threw himself on the sofa and let out a long whistle of relief.

  Suddenly finding her legs threatening to give way, Carissa sank down on the nearest deep chair.

  'Are you all right?' Cade asked her.

  'Yes. But I could do with a drink.'

  Morris got up and poured for them all

  They drank in silence, Cade still toying with the knife, its wicked blade shimmering in the light.

  'I wish you would put that thing down!' she said, finding her voice wavering.

  'Sorry.' Cade put it back on the table. 'He wouldn't have hurt you, you know. He's not a genuine killer.'

  'You were sorry for him, weren't you?' she said, remembering he had told her he had never been soft hearted.

  He cast a sharp glance at her and said, 'Let's postpone the post-mortem, shall we? I want some sleep.'

  'Me too.' Morris yawned, and said, 'The couch is all yours, Cade.' He disappeared into his room, and Carissa put the glasses away in the kitchen and came back to go through to the spare room.

  Cade was still sitting in a chair, and he had the knife in his fingers again.

  'Are you going to keep it for a souvenir?' she enquired, a little sharply.

  'Maybe.' His fingers stilled, and he looked at her as she stopped in the doorway to the bedroom.

  'I'm sorry I didn't trust you,' he said. 'If it helps any, I wanted to, badly. But

  'But you don't trust anyone,' she said. 'I know. Especially me.'

  In the morning she woke late, feeling somewhat depressed and flat. The strain was over, and that should have been a relief, but all she could think of was that Cade would be going away again, and she would become again just one of the girls he had loved a little and then left.

  She tried to rally her self-respect with the thought that this time he had not taken all he wanted from her, that he had lost the battle of wits to which he had challenged her. If it was a victory, it felt like a hollow one. He had wanted her, in a physical sense, and she

  had refused him that. But she wanted him too, in far more than a physical way, and the pain of losing him was a deeper and more lasting one than any chagrin he would,suffer at her refusal to gratify his fleeting interest in her.

  When she braced herself to get up and dressed and emerge into the lounge, it was to find Morris there alone.

  `Cade went to the police station,' he told her. 'He asked me to find the best lawyer in town and he's taken him to see Gomez himself. He really wants to help that guy. Do you know what I think?'

  `What?' Carissa asked vaguely, trying to assimilate simultaneous feelings of relief and disappointment that Cade wasn't there.

  'I think he did have something going with that Carlotta. Why else would he go to the trouble that he has, to get her husband off the hook? After all, the guy was trying to kill him ! '

  `Perhaps he just felt guilty about Carlotta being killed when he was driving,' Carissa suggested, trying to hide her misery at the thought that Morris voiced.

  'But -he wasn't driving,' said Morris. 'Didn't he tell you? Jack Benton, his manager, was driving when they crashed. Not Cade.'

  But he let Gomez think it was him.'

  'Yeah, I noticed that last night. Complex character, isn't he? Heck, we could never have persuaded him to hide out in New Zealand while Jack returned to their place in the States, where we thought the main danger was, if he had been the driver. It took all Jack's time to talk him into it as it was they had quite a shouting match at one stage. Jack reckoned Cade was trying to be-- some knight in shining armour, and carry the can for him, and Cade didn't like that.'

  'No, he wouldn't.' Cade prided himself on his toughness, his lack of sentimentality. It seemed to be a necessary defence with him. All the same, in spite of his cynical appraisal of Jack Benton's motives, she believed he was more fond of the man than he would admit—even, perhaps, to himself. Once, in her young ignorance, she had believed she knew Cadiz Fernand. Now she knew that she was only beginning to understand him. But she would never have the opportunity to complete her knowledge of him, to explore the hidden corners of his personality that she had recently glimpsed. He had put up barriers against all women a long time ago, barriers he had no intention of lowering for her. Perhaps, as Morris seemed to think, Carlotta, had breached them, a little. She had known him when they
were very young, maybe before the barricades had been fully built, and she might have known how to get behind them. Certainly it was true that he was uncharacteristically anxious to help her husband.

  Morris cooked them both breakfast, and she managed to steer him away from the subject of last night's! events. She found she didn't want to talk about it, any more than she wanted to talk about Cade's imminent departure.

  'I have to go to the office,' said Morris as they concluded their meal.

  'Can I come?' Carissa asked eagerly, anxious to get away from the flat, and not to be here alone when Cade returned.

  'No. I want you to stay here and entertain Cade when he comes back,' said Morris. 'And don't let him out of your sight. I want a contract signed before he leaves for home. He promised me a tour.'

  'I'm sure he won't go back on his word.'

  'All the same, I want it in black and white as soon as possible. I'm counting on you, Carrie. Let me know as soon as he gets in, and I'll get back here and make sure I have his signature.'

  After he had gone she tidied up the flat in a desultory

  fashion, noticing that the knife had disappeared from the lounge. She supposed Cade had packed it into one of his bags.

  She wandered into the spare bedroom and saw her face in the mirror, pale and listless-looking, a droop to her mouth and faint shadows under her eyes.

  Impatient with herself, she sat down and carried out a full makeup treatment, smoothing tinted foundation under her eyes to hide the hollow look, using a pink lipstick, brushing her hair fiercely until it gleamed softly. When she had finished she looked herself critically over, decided the soft shading of green on her eyelids, the subtly darkened lashes and the faint brush of blusher on her cheeks were a definite improvement, and decided to go the whole hog by dressing up to it.

  Mostly she had worn casual shirts and slacks at the lake, but she had packed one uncrushable, softly gathered blue-green nylon silk dress that turned her eyes the same colour and made them look mysterious and soft. She didn't feel soft, but it was quite a glamorous all-purpose sort of dress, which was why she had chosen it, and it would help her feel confident and able to cope with whatever mood Cade was in when he arrived, she hoped.

  So when she finally answered the door to his ring, she was looking coolly composed and sophisticated. If her heart skipped a beat or two at the sight of him, tall and tanned and looking remarkably fit in spite of the harrowing events of the previous night, it didn't show.

  'How did it go?' she asked with just the right amount of polite interest.

  'Okay,' he said, casting an experienced eye over her, taking in the careful makeup, the elegant dress. 'It looks as though Gomez will get off lightly, since he's quite willing to cooperate with the police, now.'

  'And since you won't testify against him.'

  'That, too.'

  He spoke almost absentmindedly, his eyes unreadable but intent on her, making her nervous.

  `Did you have breakfast?' she asked.

  `Yes, also a cup of tea at the police station, although I think-the Inspector would have preferred to give me bread and water.'

  'You probably did him out of a promotion.' 'He'll get other opportunities.'

  He moved, closer to her, and she asked, 'Would you like a drink?'

  `Not now. Carissa—'

  Trying to look casual, she turned away from him to go to the phone.

  'I promised Morris to let him know when you came back.

  He followed her, and as she lifted the receiver he said, `Not yet. I want to talk to you.'

  'I promised,' she said calmly. 'He really wants to see you—'

  She had begun to dial when he took the receiver from her hand and replaced it. Because she always reacted strongly, one way or another, to his proximity, the action angered her.

  `I said, not yet,' he said clearly, close to her ear. to see Morris later. He'll get his contract.'

  'When it suits you!'

  `That's right.'

  She would have pushed past him, but he was leaning one hand with seeming casualness against the wall, trapping her.

  'You do like to get your own way,' she said. 'Don't you, Cade?'

  'Count on it,' he said mockingly. 'You're angry. Your eyes have gone emerald green. Remember that waiter in Sydney?'

  'No.' She turned her face away, trying to look indifferent.

  He gave a soft laugh. 'Yes, you do.'

  `All right, then, I don't want to. I don't want to be' reminded of it. I don't want to remember it.'

  'None of it?' he asked. 'Not this?' He trailed his lips gently from temple to cheek to the corner of her mouth. 'Or this?' He stemmed her attempt at evasion and pulled her close to kiss her mouth, surely and thoroughly, and she exerted every shred of willpower she could muster to ignore the wild singing in her veins that urged her to respond and never count the cost.

  He was only amusing himself, trying a last attempt to salve his vanity and prove his attraction for her, she told herself bitterly as at last his arms slackened and she pushed away from him, turning blindly to move out of the room and on to the small patio, for she felt she needed the mind-clearing effect of fresh cool air.

  Cade followed, standing in the doorway as she stood agitatedly plucking pink wisps of blossom from a tamarisk that bloomed in a tub just outside.

  'What do you want of me, Carissa?' he asked. 'Nothing that you can give me,' she answered huskily., 'I told you I don't know how to love

  So he had guessed—guessed at her feelings for him,

  longing for the love he was unable to give her.

  Hurt pride made her round on him, in passionate fury.

  'I don't want your love!' she lied desperately. 'I

  don't want you in any way. Oh, yes'—she added,

  seeing the scepticism in his dark face—`for a while, at

  the lake, I admit I was a bit carried away sometimes by

  —by memories of a teenage crush, mainly, and simple

  propinquity. But you rather shattered my illusions

  when you started implying that I wasn't to be trusted.

  That was the beginning of the end. And now that we're

  back in normal surroundings, I find I can't wait to see

  the last of you. You're conceited and arrogant and self—

  willed. And I can't imagine why you bother with that

  poor Gomez man, unless you like the image of yourself as the hero and the lordly dispenser of beneficent charity and forgiveness! '

  That was unfair and unforgivable, she realised, the moment the words left her lips. She would have apologised, but he stopped the words with a harsh laugh.

  'Not exactly,' he said. 'It's something much more basic than that! '

  Carissa stared, and he went on, 'I'm surprised you haven't worked it out. Supposing I had testified against him and he was sent to jail—maybe for years. He would have come out an even more bitter man than when he went in. The problem would only be postponed, but not solved: This way he's off my back for good, ,my friend for life. By the way,' he added, 'I must thank you for helping to make him see sense last night. I think it was your sincere little speech that tipped the balance.'

  Feeling vaguely sick, she said, 'It was sincere. Weren't you? I thought you genuinely wanted to help him.'

  'I did. I have a genuine interest in the preservation of life –my life.'

  'What you told him about Carlotta—was it true?'

  Cade paused, his eyes unfathomable, a shuttered look coming over his features. 'Substantially, yes,' he said at last. I plead guilty to omitting one or two details. She did ask ,me for money to get them away from his unsavoury connections and allow him to continue to lead a blameless life. Carlotta had attained respectability at considerable cost, and she wanted to hang on to it. She also was very fond of her husband and their child. As for the rest—' he smiled rather cynically, 'shall we just say that the lady was not quite the paragon of virtue that I let her husband think she was. As a matter of
fact—'

  don't want to hear any more!' she interrupted. 'You told me once you always buy your women. She

  must have been very beautiful—you seem to have paid a high price for her.'

  She pushed past him, ignoring the glittering fury in his eyes, holding her breath as she passed close to him, but no reprisal eventuated. And he just stood where he was as she dialled Morris's -number and told him Cade was waiting for him.

  She busied herself preparing lunch for them all while they waited for Morris; making a salad and frying some frozen French fries and rissoles. Cade stayed out on the patio, eventually subsiding into the chair that he had been occupying only a few weeks ago when Carissa had come in with Morris to find him waiting. It seemed an age ago, now. So much had happened since, then, she felt life would never be the same again.

  Fortunately, Morris was too full of talk to notice that Carissa and Cade hardly spoke to each other, and that Carissa was barely capable of speaking at all. She was frankly at screaming point, wanting the day over, wanting Cade to be gone. It would be easier to pick up the pieces once he had flown out of her life. She would resign from her job just as soon as she could without making Morris suspect the reason. Certainly well before Cade returned for his concert tour. Nothing would make her risk going through all this over again.

  She cleared the table and Morris spread a contract on the table. Cade seemed to take an age to read it. He took out a pen and scribbled some alterations, and once Morris glanced at her as though he would have liked her opinion. She looked away, not wanting to -be asked for it, not wanting anything at all to do with this.

  Then it was signed and Morris was folding it up with a satisfied air and putting it in an envelope.

  Cade said, 'You can sort out the-monetary details with Jack. I'll stay in a hotel tonight. I've an early flight booked in the morning.'