Double Entendre

by Heather Graham

  “You little bitch!” he exploded suddenly, slamming down his coffee cup so hard that the liquid spilled onto the table. He reached out to touch her, but didn’t. “Oh, the hell with it! What difference does it make? This argument is useless.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Colleen said, trying to keep the terrible depression from her voice. “We just don’t seem to want the same things, do we?”

  “Maybe not,” Bret murmured. He hesitated. “Sorry, Colleen. I didn’t mean to yell.”

  She laughed a little wistfully. “You’re a yeller, Bret. It’s okay. I just wish that—that we didn’t fight so easily,” she murmured a little lamely.

  He pushed his chair away from the table and paced to the door, his hands in his pockets. In a moment he stepped up behind her, gently teasing her cheek with his knuckles. “So do I,” he said at last. “So do I.”

  Colleen caught his hand and kissed the palm, dangerously close to tears. “It’s kind of nice, though,” she said a little breathlessly, “to have this time together, isn’t it?”

  His arms locked around her, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. “You don’t mind? You had a fit about staying in this room with me at first. Remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. But…”

  “But what?”

  She didn’t dare look at him. There was only so much that she could take a chance on giving away. “To say that I don’t care for you, that I don’t want you physically, would be rather ludicrous. I thought I could deny it. But I can’t. That proved rather obvious when we were back home.”

  “Did you want me?” His chin gently nuzzled her hair. “I wasn’t quite sure if you wanted me or simply wanted me dead to the world.”

  “Plans backfire.”

  Bret was silent for several moments. “That they do,” he said at last. Then he stood, releasing her and starting for the door. “Get your things together, Colleen. With Eli among the departed, we’ve got no way to trace the man who hired him to dispose of you. And if it was Holfer, we’ve got no way to search for him. We might as well split up and head to Austria today.”

  Colleen nodded as Bret set his hand on the doorknob. “Oh!” she said suddenly, stopping him. “Who has the puzzle pieces?”

  She saw his lashes lower and his jaw tighten. “I do. Why?”

  Colleen stiffened. “I just wanted to know where they were. And by the way, I don’t mind being together for this last lovely fling, but I do mind my belongings being riffled!”

  He sighed with condescending patience. “Colleen, you walked out while I was still asleep. We needed them. I found them. If you had been a proper sleeping companion and remained by my exhausted side, I could just have asked you for them. As it was, I woke up wondering if you were still in the same country as I was.”

  “Bret…”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t riffle your luggage again.” He grinned suddenly. “I’d much rather riffle your body.”

  Then he was gone, the door closing behind him. Colleen sat for a long time, drawing patterns on the table. At least they had managed to be a bit mature about the situation. The attraction was still there between them, achingly strong. And they had more or less agreed to stay together for the time being because they wanted one another so badly.

  But why, if they wanted one another now, couldn’t they make it last for a lifetime? she wondered. Why couldn’t they make their marriage work?

  If she didn’t get up, she would start crying. She planted her hands against the table and stood, then found herself looking around the room instead of packing.

  It was a beautiful room. It had been the setting for some beautiful moments between them. She would never forget it.

  * * *

  It was at the airport that she first saw the tall blond man.

  Bret, Carly and MacHowell were at the ticket counter, straightening out their various reservations. Ben was attempting to entertain Sandy with monologues on Moroccan life-styles. Colleen had tried to feign an interest in his words, but it just wasn’t there. She felt too disheartened. Despite Bret’s plans she felt that the story was about to reach a tragic dead end. Just as their marriage was.

  She ambled off a bit from the other two and stared out a plate-glass window. She saw him then, reflected in the glass. He was as tall as Bret, with closely cropped hair so light it was almost platinum. Even in the reflection she could see that startling coloring, his pale, pale hair and startling blue eyes. His eyes were deep and bright and penetrating. He was in a European suit, broad shouldered, slim, very much like a Nordic athlete. She stared at him in the glass, intrigued and unaware for several seconds that he was staring at her, too, that those curious blue eyes were locked with hers.

  She spun around. He didn’t leave. Instead he approached her.

  “Frau McAllistair,” he said simply. There was something in his hand, a long white envelope.

  “Who…?”

  He stuffed the envelope into her purse. “I will talk to you when I may.” He inclined his head toward the others. “You should trust no one. I will find you when the time is right. When we can speak. Alone.”

  He turned crisply on his heel and walked away. For a long moment Colleen was too amazed to run after him, and his steps were so long and determined that he had almost disappeared when she finally did, her heart pounding. Who the hell was he? Not Holfer. He couldn’t be Holfer because Rudy Holfer had to be in his seventies, at the very least. This man was young, somewhere between thirty and forty. Bret’s age.

  Colleen searched through the crowd at the airport, running, pausing, running again. She thought she had caught a glimpse of his platinum head when a hand landed on her shoulder.

  “Colleen! Damn it, what the hell are you doing? I can’t leave you for a second! You don’t have the sense of an untrained chimp! Where were you going?”

  She clamped her teeth tightly together and turned around with a fierce effort to control her temper. Bret’s eyes were dark with exasperation; his hair had that disheveled look it took on when he had been running his fingers through it with worry. He’d been concerned, she’d grant him that. She was about to shout out that he had made her lose the mysterious blond man when she realized that the others were running up behind him.

  She lowered her head quickly, hiding her eyes and struggling for an innocent facade. She didn’t know why she felt such a tingling of alarm, but she suddenly decided to keep her secret to herself, at least until she was alone with Bret and Carly.

  She raised her head, smiling sweetly. “I’m sorry. I was, uh, just looking for the ladies’ room.”

  Bret looked totally irritated, as if he couldn’t believe such stupidity. He made a sound in his throat that was a portent of a lecture to come, but he didn’t get a chance to speak because Sandy broke in pleasantly.

  “Oh, good! We can go together.” Then she turned her lovely eyes on Bret. “That would be all right, wouldn’t it?”

  He muttered something and threw up his hands. “Let’s all head for the ladies’ room.”

  The men waited outside. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be so brusque,” Sandy told Colleen softly when they were alone. “He just worries about you. And not without cause, not here. You were kidnapped, remember.”

  Colleen smiled. “Thanks, Sandy,” she said briefly. The other woman was trying to be decent, but she wasn’t in the mood to hear any suggestions regarding Bret. She knew him too well to want to hear about his motives from another woman, no matter how nicely the advice was intended. As soon as she had the thought, she felt awful; it was true that Sandy didn’t have to be here. She was terrified every moment, she had come only to help Colleen and Bret.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured Sandy with a much nicer smile. “I’m accustomed to him. He doesn’t bother me.” She linked arms with Sandy, and they rejoined the men together.

  Bret had a slip of paper for Sandy and some gentle words. “You’re going to be fine. This is the name of a friend, Bill Dwyer. He’s with the American
Embassy. I met him last year when there was a problem with some Austrian wines. He’s going to meet you all in Tirol, make some police connections and the like. You feel okay about everything?”

  Sandy nodded. It was time for them to part. She gave Bret a fierce hug, then did the same to Colleen and Carly. Ben hugged Colleen and then James MacHowell did, too. “It’s been such a pleasure, dear. You’ve done so much for me.”

  “General!” she protested. “We’ll be back together in a week.”

  He smiled at her, and she felt a little tremor. Then their flight to Rome, where they could transfer for a flight to Vienna, was called, and she was running with Carly and Bret to make it.

  Bret was curt and distant when they boarded the plane. “Don’t run off alone again!” he warned her bluntly, then turned his attention to the window.

  “What you did was very dangerous,” Carly warned her more softly, yet she knew he agreed with Bret that she had behaved foolishly.

  Colleen stared down at a magazine without seeing it, impatiently waiting for the jet to become airborne. The hell with you both! she fumed inwardly.

  As soon as they had left the ground, Colleen politely excused herself to Carly.

  Bret turned around with annoyance. “Again? You just went!”

  A flush touched her cheeks. “Bret, really! You can’t control everything, you know!”

  She swept by Carly and hurried to a rest room. Alone at last, she pulled the envelope from her purse and quickly scanned the note inside.

  Dear Mrs. McAllistair:

  I am not the villain you think me. I have heard of Rutger’s death; I was not the cause. Someone else must wish to claim the diamonds. I do not know who; I do not understand. I will help you all that I can, yet I or my son, Wilhelm, must see you alone since, as I have said, I do not know who may be dangerous. Please believe that I am not a murderer, only a victim of greed. Sincerely,

  Rudolph Holfer

  Colleen started trembling; her heart seemed to pound ridiculously loudly in the tiny cubicle. She fumbled with the lock on the door with fingers that shook so badly she could barely budge it. Then she ran down the aisle of the plane and practically leaped over Carly’s lap.

  “Colleen!”

  Both men looked at her with incredulity and annoyance, then curiosity. Her eyes were as bright as new pennies. She was still shivering with excitement. “Look!”

  Bret took the note first, then turned to her sharply. “Where did you get this? When?”

  “What is it?” Carly demanded, reaching for the paper.

  “At the airport. I was trying to chase him—”

  “Chase who?” Carly interrupted.

  “You were trying to chase Holfer?” Bret grated, staring at her pointedly. “What kind of a fool are you?”

  “Holfer?” Carly said.

  “Not Rudy Holfer. It was his son, Wilhelm.”

  “And you were trying to chase him! Good God, Colleen, when the hell will you ever learn? You would have gotten outside and been whisked away again!”

  Colleen grabbed his arm in exasperation. “Damn you, didn’t you read the note? He isn’t guilty! It’s someone else!”

  “Oh, Colleen!”

  “Well, it could be! Bret, I am so tired of your giving absolutely no credence to my words.”

  Carly cleared his throat loudly. Their flight attendant was in front of them, trying to maintain her antiseptic smile and serve them lunch while pretending she didn’t notice the argument.

  “Lovely day, isn’t it?” Carly said.

  Bret and Colleen curved their mouths into plastic smiles. The stewardess set trays before Carly and Colleen, smiled at Bret when he turned down the offer of a meal, then made a hasty retreat. “Bret, Holfer could be innocent!” Colleen insisted in a vehement whisper. She swallowed, realizing what her words could mean. She had liked James MacHowell very much, but she couldn’t clear him any more than she could Holfer. He could have staged everything that had gone on. He could have been sympathetic and giving, coming to her rescue with Bret just to get more information on the diamonds, or what they knew. “Bret, MacHowell has that huge estate. Even in Marrakech it must have cost a small fortune.”

  “But if he has all that money, why would he want the diamonds?” Carly asked her.

  “All right, maybe he already found the diamonds years ago. Maybe…”

  Bret exhaled loudly. “If he already has the diamonds, why kill Rutger?”

  “I don’t know,” Colleen admitted. “Vengeance? Maybe he thought everything that happened was Rutger’s fault….” Her voice trailed away. She felt Bret’s eyes on her with condescending patience. “I don’t think it’s Holfer!” she snapped. “And, as I said before, I am extremely weary of your behaving as if I haven’t got a mind!”

  “You’ve got a mind. You just don’t know how to use it,” Bret responded. “Fact, Mrs. McAllistair: we don’t know who is guilty and who isn’t. Therefore, it was foolish for you to have gone running off after anyone alone!”

  “It was a crowded airport!” Colleen replied with such vigor that she turned on him and, in doing so, managed to upset her lunch tray onto his lap.

  Bret yelped as hot coffee spilled on his leg, and he jumped up in his seat. His head crashed into the light panel overhead, and he began to swear furiously under his breath.

  “Bret! I’m sorry,” Colleen said contritely. She tried to pick pieces of lamb off his clothing. “I’m really sorry.”

  The wary stewardess came rushing back with napkins. Bret accepted her assistance with his teeth clenched, assuring her that he was all right. Again the woman appeared quite relieved to leave them.

  “Oh, Lord,” Carly groaned. “You two are embarrassing.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose!” Colleen protested.

  “You couldn’t have aimed better if you’d tried,” Bret muttered. “Just because you’re not interested in my future fatherhood…”

  “Bret, I said I’m sorry!”

  “Not as sorry as I am,” he snapped. “Excuse me.” He crawled over them both. “I think I’ll go to the back of the plane for a cigarette.”

  Colleen closed her eyes with a sigh as he left. She opened them to discover Carly watching her, barely suppressing his laughter. “It was rather funny,” he admitted, and Colleen couldn’t help but laugh, too.

  Then her laughter faded, and she looked at him bleakly and moaned. “Oh, Carly! Why are we always at each other’s throats? I can’t make a move without his coming on like a four-star general.”

  “Maybe he loves you,” Carly suggested.

  Colleen gazed out the window at the white clouds slipping by them. “Do you know, Carly, that’s the funniest thing about it. I believe that he does care. Just not enough.”

  Carly sighed. “Enough for what, Colleen? Enough to be concerned with the things you do?”

  “That’s not it, Carly, and you know it. His career is always uppermost in his mind. No, not even his career, really. The lure of excitement or something. Carly, admit it. He walked out on me. And the only reason he’s back now—”

  “Do you honestly think it’s the story, Colleen? You two are like tinder and a match when you get together, and I’m not talking about tempers.”

  “Carly, it’s nice to be together. I admit it. But I’m not naive enough to believe that a few nice nights together can put this Humpty-Dumpty shell of a marriage back together. If he did want a marriage—a real, committed kind of a marriage—he wouldn’t always be yelling at me!”

  Carly laughed. “Okay, he shouldn’t yell. But maybe if you talked…”

  “We argue.”

  “Can I take the window, Colleen?” Carly suddenly asked, moving past her at her nod. He sat down, then winced. “There’s still coffee on the seat,” he told her. “This is wonderful. I’m the managing editor of one of the most prestigious newsmagazines in the country, and I’m going to be running around all day like a kid with toilet-training problems!”

  Colleen started t
o laugh again. “I really am sorry.”

  He nudged her elbow. “Don’t tell me. Tell him.”

  Colleen glanced up quickly. Bret was back. Carly tactfully turned his attention to the window.

  To her surprise Bret slid beside her, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her head close so he could whisper to her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She jerked back, staring at him suspiciously. He didn’t really look all that sorry. But there was a nice warm sizzle in his eyes, and he was grinning crookedly.

  “I didn’t mean to jump all over you.” He leaned closer and stroked her cheek intimately. “Really.”

  She trembled a little, touched as always by his nearness, by the gentle tone of his voice.

  “Are you, uh, okay?” she asked him, and to her surprise she found she was blushing. “I mean, I didn’t cause any real harm, did I?”

  “Well, you did wound me.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “That’s okay. You can kiss it and make it all better.”

  “Bret!”

  “Not now, Colleen. This is definitely a public place!”

  She started to laugh, and when he ruffled her hair, she was happy to lean against his shoulder. His scent was so pleasant; he felt strong and warm and wonderful, and she savored his slightest movement. If only they could make it last.

  * * *

  They arrived in Vienna at 8:30 P.M. local time and checked into the Hotel Socher, where Bret had told the others they would be. It was a wonderful place, Colleen thought. There was an old-world beauty about the place with well-polished wood, chandeliers and European charm.

  They ate at a sidewalk restaurant, starting with a wonderful Austrian wine that added to the feeling that this was a night of rest. They passed everything around the table: cabbage, potato salad, sausages, rich brown bread, schnitzel and delicious skewered beef. When they had thoroughly stuffed themselves, they sat back with coffee mit Sahne, with whipped cream piled high. They discussed everything: the puzzle pieces, MacHowell and the strange appearance of Wilhelm Holfer at the airport.