by Ann Cristy
“Make love to me, Cady.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse.
“We can’t—not here. You’ll catch cold.”
“We’re hidden from the wind here and the sun is warm… so is the ground,” Rafe muttered, loosening her sweater and lifting it so he might caress her breasts with his lips. “Did I ever tell you that I love your breasts?”
“You may have mentioned it.” Cady snuggled closer, loving the crisp softness of his bare chest against her.
Rafe sheltered her with his body when her clothes were removed. Cady felt safe and protected. Their hands on each other were sure yet hesitant as they both strove to control their own feelings and give the other satisfaction. Heat burned through the control like a blast furnace gone mad.
Cady felt wild, protective, loving, giving, wanting. Rafe’s skin was as precious as platinum, and when it touched her it turned her to gold. They were alone in the inferno, cool in the middle of a fiery eye, serene in their love, calm in the center of the storm.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rafe was reelected! The celebration had a Mardi Gras flavor, delighting Cady. Rafe had deserved to win. He was the best man for New York. Cady knew that and was happy when other people said the same thing. When they returned to Washington, Rafe’s staff was elated and gave a small party to welcome him back.
The weeks after their return were busy ones for both of them, but Rafe and Cady tried to make time for each other every day. Cady felt exhilarated by their growing closeness. The marriage wasn’t over, after all—on the contrary, it was better than ever.
She was in the rose garden of their home in Virginia one afternoon, snipping what would be the last roses of the year. It was the end of November, and there was a damp chill in the air. She had just cut a partly opened bud from the Peace rosebush when Trock walked up to her carrying a package. Cady stopped what she was doing to watch the two dogs who had been following her turn to greet the attendant with soft barks and wagging tails.
“You’ve even won Hobo to your side, Trock.” Cady smiled at him and took the proffered package, not looking at it. “Did you ever think these two would become friends?” She looked down at the bull terrier sitting side by side with the Doberman, their tongues hanging out of their mouths as though they were grinning at her and understood what she was saying.
The two animals were quite a contrast. The bull terrier was snow white now, almost all the scars healing nicely though the gash on his nose still had a redness to it, and his slanted eyes had a contented intelligence. Cady’s research on the breed had revealed that despite their ability to fight ferociously, they were gentle animals, good as pets for both adults and children.
At first the two male canines had given each other a wide berth. There had been a hostile wariness in their manner, especially on the part of the Doberman, who resented the intruder to his home. Gradually his reluctant acceptance gave way to a cautious camaraderie that grew every day.
Trock watched the two dogs in silence for a time. Then he inclined his head and patted each animal, his facial muscles moving in the semblance of a smile. “Maybe not at first. Graf was determined not to let anyone disturb his domain, but when he found Hobo equally determined, they both backed down. Dogs are smarter than people.” Trock took a deep breath, making Cady smile. He was not a man who liked speeches, and he would open up with no one except Cady or Rafe. He pointed to the parcel in her hand. “They said it was special delivery.” Then he frowned at Cady. “You’ve been out here long enough in the cold. I’ll walk the dogs a bit. You take the flowers and go inside.”
Cady looked down at the brown-paper-wrapped article in her hand. She turned it over to see if there was a return address. There wasn’t. She shrugged, lifted the small pile of flowers into her basket, pocketed the rose snips in her coverall, and strolled to the library door. She set the package on Rafe’s desk and carried the flowers to the kitchen, where the housekeeper took them from her and said she would wash them and bring them in a vase to the library if Mrs. Densmore would like to arrange them there.
Cady took her time showering and shampooing her hair. Her thoughts were on Rafe and the quiet dinner they would have together this evening. Bouillabaisse was one of his favorites, and Cady decided that they would also have New York State champagne and the French rolls that Rafe was addicted to.
She dressed with care. Rafe’s tastes were uppermost in her mind as she donned a silky wool dress in a light purple that was one shade darker than her eyes. Her medium-heel slings were a brown kid and even more comfortable than sneakers. All at once she remembered the flowers that the housekeeper had put in the library to be arranged, and she hurried from the room and down the stairs.
The roses were there, next to the package. Checking first to see if the flowers had plenty of water, Cady decided she would open the parcel before doing the arranging.
The strapping tape was troublesome to remove, but she was finally able to unwrap the box. While she crumpled the paper and tape in her hands before throwing it in the waste basket, she looked curiously at the plain, unmarked box that appeared as though it might contain typing paper. Whatever could it be? She lifted the cover and froze. She could actually feel the blood in her body drain to her toes. Her hands and feet turned to ice. She stared at the nude picture of herself, her head thrown back, her hands touching her own body in a provocative way. She lifted the picture between thumb and forefinger to look closer and found another one underneath it. Sure that she must be hallucinating, she closed her eyes, then opened them again and resumed perusing the pile of photographs. Each was more shocking than the last.
There were more horrors under the first five pictures of Cady alone in promiscuous poses. These were followed by pictures of Cady and… Oh, God! Cady felt the contents of her stomach rise. She ran for the tiny powder room off the library and threw up her lunch.
With shaking hands she wiped her face and looked at the chalk-faced person who stared back at her in the mirror. The purple bruises that were her eyes held a wounded look. How could it be? How could there be pictures of her and Rob Ardmore in lascivious poses? She staggered back to Rafe’s desk in the library, not even glancing at the hapless roses. There were more pictures of her and Rob and… Cady almost fainted. There were pictures of her an’d Todd Leacock! What was going on? With lifeless fingers she picked up the typewritten sheet that had fluttered to the floor when she had picked up one of the pictures.
MRS. DENSMORE: YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF. THESE PICTURES WILL BE SENT TO DAY MAGAZINE. PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW HOW CORRUPT YOU PEOPLE CAN BE. YOU’LL RECEIVE A PHONE CALL THIS EVENING AT SEVEN P.M.
Cady stared at the typed words, not really comprehending. When the phone rang at her elbow, she let out a little scream.
“Cady, love, it’s me. I have to see Conroy on the Elkins land scheme. It looks like it will run late. Forgive me? Cady?”
“Yes… of course, Rafe. I understand.”
“Angel, is something wrong?”
“No… Good-bye.”
Cady could sense Rafe’s hesitancy, so she hung up quickly. Putting her face in her hands, she began to shake. Who could have done this? Why?
She managed to put Mrs. Lacey off when the housekeeper wanted to serve her some food. When Trock asked to see her, Cady told Mrs. Lacey to tell him she was busy. She sat in the darkening library, the box with the pictures clutched close to her stomach.
When the housekeeper rang at seven to tell her there was a call, Cady lifted the phone as though it had suddenly turned into a rattlesnake. “Yes, this is Cady Dens-more.”
“Recognize my voice, Cady? It’s Todd Leacock.”
Cady snapped straight in her chair, thinking of the pictures she held in her hand, remembering the photos of her and Todd. “Why are you calling here?” She couldn’t seem to clear the hoarseness from her throat as she waited with a sense of doom for his answer.
“Come on, Cady. You were always such a smart girl in college. Prudish, but smart.” Todd’s laugh was
harsh.
“Did you send those pictures?” Cady fought the quaver in her voice.
“Admit you never looked lovelier, Cady.”
She could almost see the leer on his face. “I never posed for those pictures. You could go to prison for doing such a thing.”
“I remember you posing for them, Cady. I remember photographing you and Congressman Ardmore, too. You never seemed to mind being seen naked with him.”
“You’re a liar.” Cady tried to stifle the spasm in her mouth by biting her lips.
“It’s your word against mine, lady. I have nothing to lose if these pictures come out. You do.”
“What are you saying?” Her lips were pasteboard.
“I’m saying that I don’t mind if the pictures become public knowledge. If you do, then you should be willing to cooperate with the electorate in your state. There are certain things we want done, and your husband is dragging his heels. If you persuade him to help us in our endeavors… then you can have the pictures and the negatives and do what you want with them.”
“There are laws to punish blackmailers in this country.” Cady licked her lips. They felt like papier-mache.
“Don’t use dirty words, Cady,” Todd warned. “I get angry when people try to push me around.”
“You’re crazy,” she whispered. “You know those pictures are faked. Why are you doing this?”
“I told you. A few people and myself want your husband to back down on this environmental bill for the Hudson and Lake Ontario. That’s all we want, Cady. You can handle that. After all, it means more work for the state, more money—”
“To line the pockets of certain men with vested interests, such as Greeley and his boys,” Cady hissed, her voice grim.
“I didn’t mention any names, Cady.”
“You didn’t have to. This is a crime, Todd. Get out of it while you—”
“You talk to me about crime! You and all that Dens-more money! Why should you have so much and I have so little? Do you think old Emmett Densmore made his money honestly? Damn it, you know he didn’t. So what’s the difference if I dip into the honey pot for my share?”
“You know it’s wrong. Todd, listen to—”
“No, you listen, Cady. Get your husband to back down or the pictures come out. I’m not kidding.”
The phone slammed in Cady’s ear, making her blink. She held the receiver in her hand until she heard the dial tone, then she set it very carefully on the cradle. Wrapping her arms around her body, she sat there rocking, pulling herself into a nearly fetal position. Her mind fragmented into panic, frozen into stillness. Perhaps if Rafe had come home at that moment, she would have blurted out the whole thing to him, poured her anguish and fears into the open, but she was alone.
She had no concept of time passing when her hand reached for the telephone. She dialed the number in a stupor, almost surprised when she heard Rob Ardmore’s voice. She had to tell him he was involved in this. He said hello twice before she responded. “It’s Cady, Rob. I’m in terrible trouble.” Her mouth had difficulty with the words, but finally she was able to tell Rob the bare outline of what had happened.
“Cady. Cady, listen to me. Don’t give in. I’m coming over right away. There’s always a way to fight this sort of thing.”
For the second time that evening the phone went dead in her ear before her numb arm had replaced the receiver.
She paced the library, head down, while she waited for Rob, her mind like cotton wool, barely functioning as she dealt with horrible visions of the future.
When she heard Rob’s car in the drive, she answered the door herself. Mutely she stared at him, unable to control the shaking of her limbs.
Rob stepped forward, taking her by the arm and turning her back toward the library, only speaking after he had closed the door. “Cady, don’t look like that.” He put his arms around her. “We’ll fight them.”
“How?” she croaked, her hands clutching at his shirt front. “You haven’t seen the pictures. They’re awful. I’m ashamed to show them to you.”
He set her away from him and looked around the room, seeing the box on the desk. In two strides he had the pictures in his hands, peering at them in scowling silence. “Whoever did these was no amateur.” Rob ground the words out, looking up at her with a pronounced pallor on his face. “You must see that we can’t submit to any of their demands. It would be a never-ending cycle of destruction. Next it would be some other bill that Rafe was interested in, or something I backed. There would be no end to it. You see that, don’t you, Cady?”
She nodded in numb affirmation. “What can we do, then?”
Rob looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. “I need time to think.” He exhaled deeply. “First we need someone we can trust who will watch this Leacock person. We have to find out whom Leacock is acting for.” Rob looked at her for long moments. “I can think of a few people who would profit if I went down the tube. Who would stand to do well if Rafe was discredited?”
“Greeley,” Cady pronounced, straightening. “And I know someone I can trust.” She strode to the door, feeling the blood rise in her face, and pressed the buzzer.
Trock arrived in short order, and though Cady didn’t show him the pictures, she told him about Todd’s phone call and what Rob had suggested they do.
Trock never took his gaze from her. His face was like a rock, but his eyes took on a strange fire as he listened to her. “I’ll trail him, Mrs. D. I’ll know when he breathes. Don’t worry.” He turned away, then paused at the door and turned back. “Is the senator not to know?”
Cady shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s see what the three of us can do with this first,” Rob advised.
Trock nodded once and left the room.
Cady promised Rob she would find any excuse to put Todd off until they could find a way of undermining him. A few minutes later Rob left. When she had closed the door after him, Cady leaned against the sturdy oak, feeling her head pound. She sighed and straightened before going upstairs.
When the door leading to the back hall crashed open, she stared open-mouthed. Rafe was standing there like a boxer ready to come out of his corner.
“Damn it, Cady, what the hell is going on?” His hands opened and closed, his eyes glittering. “I saw Ardmore’s car come out our gate just as I was coming up the road. What the hell do you mean carrying on like that?”
All the terror, the pain, the boiling confusion of the past hours erupted from her mouth. “Don’t you speak to me like that! How dare you come on like the oh-so-moral husband with me? You of all people have no right to criticize anything I do,” she lashed at him, anger throbbing in her ears.
“I’m your husband,” Rafe roared, his body taking on a menacing curve.
“And you only remember that when it’s convenient to you! How dare you not trust me!” Cady screamed at him, the frustrations of the evening pouring over her like hot lava, scorching her good sense. “I don’t have to take that from a philanderer like you, a man who was the star attraction at those parties at Durra, going from woman to woman,” she blurted, knowing she was being unfair.
Rafe bared his teeth, seeming to swell in size. His voice was like forged steel plunged into ice. “Philanderer? That’s an archaic word for you, isn’t it, lady? Why don’t you say what you mean? You want trust, but you damn well never give it.” He bit off the words and spat them at her like rivets from a gun.
“What would I trust about you? Should I trust that the first chance you get you would have another get-together with all your party friends at Durra?” She lifted her fists and shook them at him.
“You never gave me a chance to explain about Durra.” Rafe’s words sliced the air.
“You had every chance in the world to tell me about Durra, before and after we were married.” Her trembling yell seemed to echo through the crystal of the chandelier and dig itself into the very plaster of the walls.
“I explain
ed that to you.”
“No, you excused yourself.”
“Now you had better tell me what Rob Ardmore is doing in my home when I’m not here.” He stepped toward her.
“I’ll tell you nothing.” Cady ran to the stairway. Halfway up, she turned to look down at him. “Nothing, do you hear me? And don’t you ever come near me again. Never.” She stumbled on the last stair but kept on running until she had slammed the bedroom door behind her.
She didn’t bother to turn on the light as she stripped the clothes from her body and strewed them every which way. She threw herself naked on the bed, the raw burning of her eyes increasing as the tears bottled up behind them.
She lay there in the vortex of the nightmare, eyes wide open, wounds fissuring inside her, with nothing to comfort and soothe the pain.
Sleep came with the pink-streaked dawn, but the nightmare stayed with her.
———
The next day she was up at seven, after having slept for only two hours. She heard Rafe moving about in their suite, but she didn’t leave her own room until she was sure he was gone. A long, cold shower didn’t take the puffiness from her face, but the needle-sharp spray helped to bring her mind out of hiding.
She was on her second pot of coffee, having ignored the toast and eggs Mrs. Lacey set before her, when Trock walked into the dining room, the dogs at either side of him.
“I’ll be gone most of the day. I’m taking Graf with me.”
“What are you going to do?” Cady forced the words past numbed lips.
“No plan yet.” Trock turned back to the door after telling Hobo to stay. His back to her, he added, “Don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Trock.” Cady felt better. She called Hobo to her and walked outside to think. She went over and over in her mind what Todd had said to her. How had Greeley connected up with Todd Leacock? She closed her eyes, picturing their conversation on the day of the clambake. What had he said? That he’d done some work for people who worked for Rafe, she recalled as she walked down to the paddock, Hobo at her heels.