Where Lies End

by Ruth Davidson

  Despite her obvious discomfort at their closeness, Rick did not back away. Diane dropped her eyes, feeling uneasy. When Rick continued standing there, Diane lifted her eyes to his face once more, surprised to see the expression in his eyes. He was studying her with the same intensity she’d remembered when she had first come to interview him, an intensity which indicated that he, too, was aware of the changed mood between them. He didn’t move. “Rick,” Diane said, not knowing how to discern the contrariety of emotions in her heart. “I’d better leave. I want to let Liz know what’s going on. It’s best that I go.” One part of her secretly longed to stay and allow him to get closer to her yet another deeper part of her fought against the possibility of opening up to him again. There were too many hurts, too many wounds from the past which she had not fully overcome. There were too many unresolved vulnerabilities, as well, considering the woman Rick had waiting for him.

  Diane could almost sense the same conflicting emotions in Rick’s gaze, the hesitance to cross the invisible boundary that stood between them. Yet Rick still remained near. Neither of them spoke but neither moved. Diane could hardly breathe as Rick slowly lifted his hand to her cheek before his thumb began to trace the soft line below her chin. “Rick,” Diane said again. She didn’t have a chance to say anything further before he slowly brought his face closer toward hers.

  When Rick’s lips softly touched her own, Diane closed her eyes, not pushing him away as she should have. A flood of forgotten memories rushed over her in a crushing wave. As his lips stayed on hers, she felt a strange ache—a deep longing she’d thought she’d effectively buried. She knew she should turn away. She knew that if she continued even a few more seconds, she’d begin the very same cycle that had left her alone and devastated before. She didn’t. Instead, she slowly leaned toward him, bringing her arms around his back.

  In all Diane’s imaginings, she had never fathomed the possibility that she would be near Rick like this again. She had never believed it possible that he would approach her or want her close. She hadn’t prepared herself for something like this. When Rick finally pulled away, Diane leaned her head downward, not daring to look at him. She didn’t want him to see how much she’d been affected by his contact—how easily he could eradicate all the barriers she’d thought she’d built around her heart. Rick held her close for several moments, his silence equaling hers. “Rick,” Diane finally said, lifting her eyes courageously to his dark brown ones. “There’s a woman waiting for you.”

  “She was concerned, when I came back, that I might see you again,” he said. “I thought at the time I could assure her she was safe.”

  Diane looked up at him. “She’s still waiting for you.”

  “I don’t intend to hurt you again,” Rick said slowly. “I want you to trust that.”

  Diane knit her brows in troubled anxiety. “I trusted you before. Who’s to say what happened in the past won’t happen again? As much as we might believe we could start another relationship, there’s so much that could happen to thwart it.”

  “All I can say at this point is that I have feelings for you that I cannot deny,” Rick said. “I’ve never forgotten you. When we were together, I loved you. I loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Those feelings have not disappeared.”

  “But someone’s lies tore us apart,” Diane reminded him. “If that could destroy our relationship then we didn’t have much to build on.”

  “I know we don’t have a lot to build on right now,” Rick admitted, “but I’m hoping for the chance to try. We have the opportunity to begin a relationship with no lies between us. Do you think it’s worth the risk? Is it worth the possibility of both of us getting hurt? For me, the answer is yes. You’ll have to answer that question for yourself.”

  “I want to answer yes,” Diane said, “but if there was another man in my life, would you be willing to take the same risk?”

  “Yes,” Rick stated.

  Diane hesitated. She could tell Rick meant what he’d said but she couldn’t be sure of her own answer. Her heart wanted to walk into the darkened tunnel that offered only a fleeting glimmer of light at the end but her head held back. The chance their relationship would not work out was too strong a possibility to denounce. What she had to decide, in essence, would be whether loving him again would be worth the possible hurt that might arise. Could she handle the possibility that she might lose him again? “I need to go,” Diane said as she forced herself to move away from him. “I need some time to think.”

  Rick reluctantly moved aside. Diane glanced at him with uncertainty as he lifted his hand once more and touched her cheek. She shielded her eyes at his soft touch, trying to not let it affect her. Her mind reeled in a confused whir as she turned, opened the door and hurried back out to the car. She did not even care that Mason Trent watched her from down the street, his shadowed silhouette a gray blur in the front seat of his car.

  Chapter Eight

  Diane sat back against the cold leather chair in Mark Durfey’s office, nervously wringing her hands together. She had only a few minutes until Mrs. Mills arrived—if, in fact, she did choose to come. Mrs. Mills had been furious when Diane had not shown up at her home. When Diane had called to set up another appointment, she felt sure Mrs. Mills planned on calling the whole deal off. Although Diane felt deeply concerned about Mrs. Mill’s reaction, she had refused to show that she had been intimidated by it. “I didn’t like your choice of meeting places. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the one who is calling the shots,” Diane had countered.

  “Don’t play games with me, Miss Benson,” Mrs. Mills had hissed back. “I won’t put up with it.”

  “Plan on meeting with me Tuesday at midnight at the R & J,” Diane had said. “I’ll be waiting for you inside Mark Durfey’s office.”

  Mrs. Mills’ abrupt silence confirmed that she gave immediate credence to Diane’s claims that she had been working with someone. “Are you going to be there?” Diane pressed her.

  Silence.

  “Mrs. Mills, I need to know if…”

  “I’ll be there,” came the terse reply before a sharp click cut off the call.

  As Diane sat in Mark Durfey’s office, she brushed a few beads of perspiration from her forehead, trying to maintain her composure. She had dressed carefully, hoping to appear as hardened as possible. Heavy rouge, lipstick and dark eyeliner were an effective contrast to her black skirt and dark blouse, giving her an almost callous look. She pressed her hands tightly together, rubbing them nervously as the minutes slowly passed.

  Diane continued to go over and over in her mind, again and again, what Mason Trent and the detective had primed her to say. She included every possible response, every reaction or possible insinuation Mrs. Mills might throw at her. Diane could never quite squelch her nervousness but she still tried to maintain a cool, uncaring facade that would be her only ally.

  The hour deepened and still Mrs. Mills had not shown. Diane could hardly contain her inward restlessness as she continued to sit, her stomach churning with nervous intensity. She began to be filled with a growing fear. What if Mrs. Mills did not intend to meet with her at all? What would happen if Diane could not even attempt to prove her innocence? As she became involved in these unsettling thoughts, a soft rap came at the door. Diane’s heartbeat quickened immediately and she stilled. She stood, brushing her sweaty palms on her skirt before speaking. “Come in.”

  Mrs. Mills slowly opened the door and stepped inside. For a moment, Diane was completely taken aback. Mrs. Mills didn’t come off as a formidable enemy but a tired, graying old woman with a haunted, scared look about her eyes. She hardly glanced at Diane as she walked in and settled herself in the seat directly opposite her. Diane remained standing, hoping that being above Mrs. Mills’ eye level would give her the advantage.

  Diane walked slowly toward Mrs. Mills. “I’d feel much better if you set your purse on the ground,” she began harshly. Despite her biting words, her insides were quaking almost u
ncontrollably. Mrs. Mills set her purse at her feet, looking in revulsion at Diane as she did.

  Diane waited for Mrs. Mills to make some sort of remark and felt surprised when no words came. Diane watched Mrs. Mills’ face, noticing the deep wrinkles about her mouth and eyes, wrinkles which seemed more defined from stress and worry. Diane finally pursed her lips into a frown, shook her head in mock impatience and then said, “You have nothing to say?”

  “If you think you’re getting anything from me,” Mrs. Mills announced coldly, “you’re sadly mistaken.”

  Diane pretended to be unmoved by her words. “You know, Mrs. Mills, I’d hate to disappoint my partner this early in the game by letting him know what you just said. That’s why I’m going to give you another chance to reconsider. As far as I see, you’re not in much of a position to bargain right now. If I need to have my partner intervene to get your cooperation, I can promise you it will only be to your detriment.”

  The eyes that narrowed in fierce hatred across from her were no longer features of a tired old woman but weapons of a vicious enemy. “Turn me into the police if you must,” Mrs. Mills flung at her with venom. “You have more to lose than I do.”

  “I have nothing more to lose than what I’ve already lost,” Diane insisted, her tone even. “I’m offering you a fair deal. You’ve ruined my life. All I’m asking for is restitution.”

  “Restitution?”

  “I’m asking for my fair share of what you got—a third of the money you and Mr. Keaton stole together and a third of what you claimed I stole in the past. With that, you can effectively buy my silence—that is, if my partner and I get a third of what you plan on taking in the future. You’ll be monitored by us, of course, to make sure that happens.”

  Mrs. Mills leaned toward her, her spindly elbows jutting outward as she pushed herself forward. “Do you know who you’re dealing with here? You have no idea the trouble you could bring on yourself if you choose to cross me like this. You’re not the only one who can play rough and I can tell you right now—I don’t like how you’re handling this.”

  Diane stiffened. What they had uncovered might only be a portion—the tip of the iceberg, so to speak—of what Mrs. Mills had done illegally? Despite this realization, Diane forced herself to sigh tiredly, acting as if she was becoming bored with the exchange. “You’re the one that forced me into this position. I have no job, no income, and no future prospects of any. I’m desperate. No telling what I’ll do if I get pushed into a corner. You’re not a stupid person and I’m sure you understand my position. Both of us stand to lose if you don’t cooperate with me. And with Mark’s new position in this company,” she forged on, referring to Mark Durfey, “he has power to create some changes, changes which could result in your immediate termination. Mr. Mark Durfey, as you might have heard today, has been put in as the new general manager. Need I remind you that he has a great deal of say regarding the person he wants sitting at the front desk?”

  Mrs. Mills’ lips pulled together into tight, thin lines and her nostrils flared in furious reaction. She stood from her chair, ready to leave. “What am I to tell Mark, Mrs. Mills?” Diane demanded fiercely before Mrs. Mills turned away. “If you take one step toward that door without an agreement, I swear to you I’ll make your life miserable, more miserable than you could imagine.”

  “Don’t talk to me about miserable,” Mrs. Mills shot back with unrestrained rage. “I’ll give you more misery than you ever bargained for.” She continued toward the door.

  “I’m warning you,” Diane said again, her own heart hammering with a growing fear as she realized that she might be losing the opportunity to clear her name. “Tell me right now what you plan to do or I’ll move forward with the only option open to me.”

  Mrs. Mills’ eyes were ominous as she turned back around toward her. “You’ll get what you’re asking,” Mrs. Mills suddenly said with a deceptive calm, “and you’ll get a cut of what we make in the future.” She pointed a gnarly finger at Diane in warning. “But that’s it. That’s all you’ll get. If you choose to press the issue further, be prepared for the consequences. You’re playing, my dear, in a league far above your own.”

  Just as Mrs. Mills turned to exit the room, the door suddenly burst open and a stream of uniformed officers came in. Diane felt as much astonished at their entry as Mrs. Mills did. She leaned against the desk behind her, hardly able to hold up her weight with her shaking knees as a few gathered around her and Mrs. Mills simultaneously. The commotion and confusion didn’t allow for any questions as both were read their rights and handcuffed. “Wait,” Diane muttered weakly as she kept straining her head, turning every which way to see if she could catch any sight of Rick. Did he know what was happening? He had never mentioned this would be a part of the set-up.

  Diane watched through a kind a surrealistic haze as Mrs. Mills was propelled out the office door with an officer at each side. She was crushed between the exiting crowd as they followed behind. The flashing red and blue lights of a police car right outside the front entry made Diane’s heart pound wildly. “Please,” she said to the officer beside her. “You’ve made a mistake.”

  The officer didn’t respond until Mrs. Mills had been escorted through the front door and then placed in the back seat of a waiting vehicle. Diane watched in stupefaction as the car pulled slowly away and suddenly disappeared out of sight. “We did that for your safety, ma’am,” the officer said as he slipped out his keys and undid the handcuffs about Diane’s wrists. “We wanted her to believe that you would be taken in for questioning. Would you wait here? Detective Thompson would like to speak to you.”

  Diane rubbed her hands over the place where the cuffs had been, trying to make sense of what was transpiring. Things were happening fast—too fast, and her mind whirled in numbed shock. It wasn’t until then that Diane noticed Rick among some of the men who had just exited an office down the hallway. Rick stood next to a paunchy middle-aged man whose robust features were softened partly by the graying hair below his temples and partly by his calm expression. “Hello, Miss Benson,” the man next to Rick said, extending his large hand toward her. “Detective Thompson, head of this case. You met with my partner yesterday.”

  Diane could only nod as she feebly shook his hand.

  “It’s nice to finally run into you under these types of circumstances,” he said. “There was a time when I wasn’t sure it would work out this way.”

  Diane meekly acknowledged his statement with a light nod.

  “Are you all right?” Rick asked.

  Diane didn’t know what to say in response. She turned shakily toward Detective Thompson. “Is this…” she made a sweeping gesture with her hand about the office, “all over?”

  “All current charges pending against you will be dropped,” Detective Thompson reassured her. “You’re free to go. Rick, Mason,” he said, turning back to the two men beside him. It was only then Diane noticed Mason Trent close by, the man Rick had hired as a personal investigator. “Thanks for your help tonight. I do need to speak to you both in the morning.”

  Rick nodded his head in affirmation. “We’ll plan on being there.”

  Everything kept happening so fast that Diane could only stare numbly about her. She watched distractedly as Rick and Mason shook hands. “I’ll have a check waiting for you when we meet with Detective Thompson in the morning,” Rick told him. “Thanks again for seeing this through.”

  “You’re welcome,” Mason responded before he turned his eyes toward Diane. “I’m grateful everything turned out the way it did. I knew it would.”

  “Thanks for your help,” was all that Diane could muster.

  Mason raised his hand in farewell and walked toward the exit. Much of the earlier crowd had dwindled until there were only a few left inside the corridor but still Diane could not regain her composure. She turned toward Rick. “This doesn’t seem real,” she said, still in cold, disbelieving shock. “Just like that,” she snapped her fingers, “and i
t’s over?”

  “You handled Mrs. Mills beautifully,” Rick said, pleased. “For awhile there, I wasn’t sure we’d get anything.”

  “I almost began panicking, at one point,” Diane admitted.

  Rick sighed heavily. “The sobering thing is that it sounds like there’s far more going on than what we originally suspected. I’m sure that’s why Detective Thompson wants to speak to me in the morning. At least now Mr. Keaton and Mrs. Mills will be pointing fingers at each other instead of you. We’ll be able to get more information with the two of them working against each other.”

  Diane still gazed distractedly about her. “What will this do to your company?”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re going to have to do a lot of damage control and I’m not exactly sure how to go about it. I know we’ll have to get some good people in to help pick up the pieces.” His tone dropped as he contemplated the problem. Diane watched him, feeling a few anxious emotions creep into her heart. If Rick planned on bringing in others, did that mean he planned on leaving? And if he did leave, what did that mean for the two of them personally?

  Rick had turned and was quietly watching her. “Diane?”

  “What?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m still recovering,” Diane said, trying to appear more collected than she felt. “I think we’d better go. I’m sure Liz is anxious to hear what happened.”

  Rick stalled, as if wondering if he should press the issue further, but he decided against it. “I’ll get the car. Why don’t you meet me out front?”

  The lights blazing outside Liz’s home when they arrived a short time later seemed to indicate that Liz had been waiting, most likely impatiently, for them. Liz nearly pounced on them the second they walked together through the front door. “Did everything go as planned?” she questioned, her usual reserve forgotten in her zeal to hear the story.

  Diane walked past her as she pointed to Rick. “Rick will have to tell you. I’m going to change. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”