Tangled Web

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  A chill went down her spine at the grim reminder. Russell Morris was the kind of man who always got precisely what he wanted, no matter who he had to hurt, or what he had to do. “I am not playing with you,” she whispered. “It’s all I could get. I sold everything. Even my wedding rings, for God’s sake.”

  “Yes.” His glance raked her slender fingers. “I see that you did. But that doesn’t solve our problem, does it, Hope?” He sipped his Scotch calmly.

  Hope watched him in frustration, angry as well as sickened. She balled her hands into fists. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she admonished impatiently.

  He smiled. “Try another one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

  Reminding herself of his utter lack of conscience and her equally strong need to remain calm, she retorted matter-of-factly, “I don’t have it.”

  “Then get it.”

  “No,” she said firmly, her mind made up about that much. If she did that, this would never end. “I won’t. I’ve done far too much in terms of giving in to your demands as it is. I did so to get rid of you but if you continue to harass me, Russell, I swear I will go to the police.”

  “And tell them what? That I’m extorting money from you?” He sat back, unimpressed. “They won’t believe you. It’ll be your word against mine.”

  Like it had been in the past, Hope thought. Steadying herself with a sip of her mineral water, Hope reminded him pointedly, “I’m a Barrister now—”

  “A Barrister with an unsavory past,” he interrupted cruelly.

  “Or need I remind you?”

  No, she thought, he didn’t have to remind her. “I repeat, Russell. This is all you’re going to get.”

  “Perhaps you’d prefer to pay me in human terms.” He grinned evilly.

  The sick feeling in her middle intensified. “I don’t know what you mean.” She hated this cat-and-mouse game, but it was one he was well versed in.

  “Oh, I think you do. I think if you search that pretty little mind of yours you’ll be able to come up with what I want. What was owed me all these years. I don’t think a court would take too kindly to that, do you, Hope? The way you cheated me out of what was rightfully mine?”

  “I don’t—”

  “The hell you don’t.” He leaned forward urgently and his eyes fixed on hers with murderous intent. “Let’s cut the bull. I know about your sin of omission, and I have known for years. But until Edmond Barrister died there was really no point in confronting you. Once you inherited, though, it was very different.” He straightened smugly. “Now you have money. You have power. And you owe me, Hope.”

  He couldn’t know what she’d done, Hope thought. But one look into his eyes told her that he knew everything. “What are you saying?” she asked hoarsely, fighting a panic that was almost debilitating in its intensity. She and Edmond had both feared this might happen someday. As the years had passed, they’d been lulled into a false security. And now she was paying for it.

  His voice lowered dangerously. “You have a choice. Either you give me back what is mine or lots and lots of cash. Enough to put my company back on the road. I’m a generous person, so I’ll leave that decision up to you.” He paused then spoke heavily, “You can give me whatever you wish, as long as you satisfy me.”

  “I don’t have any more cash,” she whispered miserably, feeling a fear more intense than any she had ever known. Finding out about her past and her involvement with Russell would destroy her son.

  Russell lifted a shoulder in an indifferent shrug, oblivious to the pain he was causing her. “You are in a quandary, aren’t you, dear Hope?” He pushed his glass away and picked up the envelope containing the money. He slid it into the inner pocket of his bright orange blazer. “I’ll give you two more weeks to come up with the additional one hundred and fifty thou. Two weeks, Hope. Or I see you in court.”

  He didn’t have to explain. She knew precisely what he meant.

  “WHY CAN’T I have a pet?” Hope’s son demanded petulantly.

  “Joey, we’ve been all through this,” Hope said, realizing from the hurt, stubborn look on his face that he wasn’t about to listen to anything she had to say. “Animal dander will aggravate your asthma.”

  Joey stabbed at the chicken Parmesan on his plate. “How do you know that?” he challenged.

  Was it her imagination or did he look a little wan? Hope wondered. “Because the doctor told me.”

  Color flooded Joey’s face. “Well, he’s wrong. I was around a puppy all afternoon and I didn’t have one bit of trouble!”

  She stared at him, hardly able to believe he’d been so foolish.

  “Aw, Mom, come on, don’t get mad,” he said, before she had a chance to say a word. “I had my inhaler with me, but I didn’t even need it. I was fine the whole time. And that puppy was so cute, Mom.” His appeal was straight from the heart. He was so in love with the little animal it made her heart break just to hear him talk about it. “It was a little cocker spaniel, the buff-colored kind,” Joey continued earnestly, while Hope sat and let her own dinner get cold. “The lady who breeds them still has some for sale. But if you like another kind of dog that’d be okay, too,” Joey hurried to reassure her. “I wouldn’t mind. Big or small it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t even have to be a puppy. It could be older and already housebroken. And I’d take care of it all by myself. You wouldn’t have to do a thing.”

  How well she knew that. Feeling like the cruelest mother in the history of the earth, Hope put down her fork slowly. “Joey, it’s not the work and you know it.”

  He let out an impatient breath, ignoring her compassionately issued statement. “I told you. I was around a puppy all afternoon and my asthma was fine.”

  Hope sighed. His breaking the rules was another issue, one they’d have to go into later. Right now they had to settle the question of a pet, once and for all. “I’m sorry, Joey.”

  “You’re sorry! Think about how I feel! You won’t let me do anything,” Joey accused. He stood, his eyes bright with tears. “I can’t go camping with my friends or have a pet or anything. I hate having asthma! I hate it!”

  He bolted from the room and ran up the stairs. The door slammed behind him, exacerbating the silence of the big, empty house. Hope remained where she was, her heart heavy with despair. As much as she yearned to go after Joey, she knew he needed time to cool off and accept her decision. Then she would go and try to make him understand she wasn’t refusing him an animal to be mean. She just loved him and wanted him to stay healthy.

  She picked up the work she had brought home from the office but found herself unable to concentrate on anything but the broken-hearted little boy upstairs. She put it back down again.

  Thinking there might be something for her to do in the kitchen, she made her way to the rear of the big house. It was as spotless as Carmelita had left it. Going over to the window above the kitchen sink, Hope noticed that the guest house windows were completely dark. Chase’s Jeep was gone. She wondered where he was, what he was doing and who he was with. Not that it should matter to her, she chastised herself firmly. He was a free man, able to do as he pleased. And, after her meeting with Russell, she had spent most of the day avoiding him, afraid he would be able to see that something was wrong.

  At the same time she had yearned to talk to him and pour out her troubles. If anyone would understand how much she loved Joey, and would do anything to protect him, it would be Chase.

  Restless, she moved toward the front hall. Without warning, Joey was at the top of the stairs. He had his hands to his throat and a terrified look on his face. He was wheezing audibly and his chest pinched in with every harsh, rapid breath. Her own heart pounding, she ran toward her son.

  THE LIGHTS in the big house were blazing when Chase pulled into the driveway at 2:00 a.m. Wondering why, he parked beside the guest house and made his way across the lawn. As he approached the back door, he could see Hope standing at the kitchen counter. She was in a robe and slipper
s. She looked distressed. Knowing she’d probably heard his Jeep, he rapped on the glass. She walked over to let him in.

  “Everything okay over here?” he asked.

  Her eyes bright with emotion, Hope nodded. “Yes. Joey had an asthma attack tonight.”

  Unwilling to acknowledge, even to himself, how much that news disturbed him, Chase shut the door behind him and asked calmly, “Is he okay?”

  Hope nodded again. Aware her coffee had stopped brewing, she went to pour herself a cup. “Want some?”

  Chase nodded; it was all he could do to stop himself from pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “How long did the attack last?” he asked.

  “A couple of hours.” Hope answered his question with a sigh.

  “We were able to control it with his bronchilator, but it shook him up just the same. He’s pretty low.”

  “Is he awake?” Chase asked softly. He didn’t want to disturb the little boy; he did want to see him.

  Hope hesitated, and unconsciously tightened the belt on her robe; it was a long fluffy white terry-cloth thing with blue satin piping. Like Chase, Hope seemed suddenly acutely aware of her nighttime apparel, modest as it was. “I don’t know.”

  “Would you mind if I looked in on him?” Chase asked.

  Hope shook her head, signaling it was okay, but kept her hands clasped protectively against her, one at her throat, the other at her waist. Watching her, Chase wondered at her unexpected prudency. It seemed so at odds with the self-assurance she exuded during the day. But then, maybe this, too, was to be expected, he thought pragmatically. After all, they were both single people of the opposite sex. She’d been widowed for some time. The were approximately the same age. He knew damn well he was attracted to her and that she felt the same about him.

  Hope wished she were still fully dressed. It was awkward being with him when all she had on was a nightgown and robe. Forcing herself to let go of the stranglehold she held on the belt to her robe, she followed him up the back stairs and down the long hall to Joey’s room. Joey was curled up on his side, his battered teddy bear in his arms. What he really would have preferred, Hope knew, was a puppy sleeping at the foot of his bed. But he couldn’t have that. Considering what had happened earlier tonight, she couldn’t think of giving in.

  Joey looked up as he heard Chase come in. “Hi, buddy,” Chase said, sitting down beside him on the bed.

  Joey fingered the black silk tie that hung over Chase’s pleated white tuxedo shirt. “Where you been?” he asked sleepily.

  “At a boring party.”

  “If it was boring, why’d you go?” Joey asked.

  Chase grinned. “Because I was the guest of honor and it would have been rude of me not to show up.” His eyes darkened with regret as he looked at Hope. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have invited you. There were some people, medical researchers and friends of mine. You would’ve enjoyed meeting them.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, glad he hadn’t slighted her deliberately.

  “I realize you weren’t the host.”

  “So what were you doing there?” Joey asked.

  Chase turned back to her son. “I was trying to raise some funds for my next project.”

  Joey perked up at the hint of adventure. “Are you going back to the rain forest?”

  Chase nodded. Realizing Chase would be leaving them again in the process, Joey’s face fell. Hope knew exactly how her son felt; thinking about it, she was disappointed, too. She kept fantasizing Chase would decide to stay on here, even though she knew that was unlikely in the extreme.

  Chase smoothed back Joey’s hair. He noticed, as did Hope, that Joey still held his inhaler tight in his hand.

  “Well, we better let you get some sleep,” Chase said softly. “But I’ll be here the rest of the night if you need me,” Chase continued.

  “Okay. Thanks, Chase.” Joey sighed. Curling on his side, he closed his eyes.

  Hope kissed Joey good-night and they left the room. As they walked down the hall, Chase asked, “Can you hear him from the kitchen?”

  Hope nodded. “I’ve got the intercom turned on in his room, so I can listen in.”

  All scientist, Chase asked, “Any idea what brought this attack on?”

  Hope gestured to a seat at the kitchen table. “He disobeyed the rules and went to see a friend’s new puppy this afternoon.” Hope shook her head unhappily as she poured them both a fresh cup of coffee and got out the cream and sugar. “You should have heard him tonight, Chase. He wants a puppy in the worst way. I feel like Simon Legree, being unable to give him one.”

  Chase made an emphatic sound as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips and blew on the steaming liquid before taking a first sip. “Poor kid. I know how he feels. I wasn’t allowed to have a pet when I was a kid, either, for completely different reasons. My mother thought animals in the house were déclassé and if left outside, they tore up the yard.”

  “What did your father say?” Hope couldn’t imagine the soft-hearted Edmond refusing Chase a pet for those reasons.

  “I never asked him.”

  Hope looked up in surprise.

  Chase shrugged and eased out of his tuxedo jacket, hanging it on the chair behind him. “I knew he’d probably say yes. That would’ve made my mother furious and put me in the middle of World War III. I had no desire to go through that, so I contented myself by seeing other friend’s pets. And now I can’t have one, of course, because he’d have to be in a kennel at least half the time.” He sat back in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “What about you?” he asked lazily. “Did you have a pet?”

  Hope smiled, dwelling on the one part of her childhood that had brought her nothing but happiness. “Lots of them, as it happened. We lived in the country and people were always dumping animals out there. So we always had a number of dogs and several farm cats.” She rested her chin on her upturned hand, her voice softening contentedly. “I loved those animals. Which, of course, makes it all the harder for me now.” She straightened and as she did so, her robe gaped open slightly, revealing the V-neck of her lace-edged blue cotton gown. All too aware Chase had just had a good look at the shadowy cleft between her breasts, she drew the edges of the robe together self-consciously. “I really wish I could give Joey a puppy.”

  With effort, Chase kept his eyes trained on her face, and not what he had just inadvertently seen. “But you can’t.”

  “No,” Hope said, still holding on to her robe with one hand.

  “And he resents me for it.”

  Trying not to notice the color in her face, or wonder if her thoughts were as voluptuous and ill directed as his own, Chase soothed pragmatically, “He’ll get over it.”

  Hope thought about that a minute. She got up restlessly and walked over to freshen first her coffee, then his. “I don’t know, Chase,” she confessed as her eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t see him earlier tonight. He was so upset.”

  “And that’s when he had the attack, after the two of you argued?” Chase asked.

  Hope nodded. Looking somewhat relieved, she admitted shakily, “Fortunately it was over pretty quickly.”

  She sat down across from him again, aware of the restless feeling deep inside her that was wholly unrelated to the asthma attack.

  Beneath his surface calm, Chase looked edgy, too. “You planning to stay up all night?” Chase asked practically after a moment.

  As strung out as she was, Hope knew she couldn’t sleep. She ran a hand through her dark hair, sweeping it back away from her face. “I think I should, in case he has another attack.”

  Chase’s gaze darkened sympathetically. “You look exhausted,” he said softly. “Why don’t you let me stay with him? I’ll go up and sit with him in his room.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” Chase reassured her with an easy smile. “Just don’t expect to see me at the store before noon.”

  Hope returned his grin. “If you stay up all
night, I don’t expect to see you there at all,” she qualified.

  “You’ve got a deal on that,” he said. Together, they headed up the stairs.

  Chapter Nine

  Hope awakened to see early-morning sunlight streaming in her windows and Carmelita carrying a tray into her room. “Breakfast in bed?” she commented bewilderedly. That wasn’t part of the morning ritual and never had been. Wealthy or not, she and Edmond had always had breakfast together in the dining room.

  “Mr. Chase says you need it. You were up very late last night,” Carmelita said, fitting the tray across Hope’s lap.

  Hope asked worriedly, “How is Joey this morning?” She wasn’t used to having anyone else care for Joey during these times. Even when Edmond was alive, she had always been the one who sat up nights with Joey.

  “Joey is still asleep. Mr. Chase sends you a message. He says not to worry, Joey is fine.”

  “Thank heavens for that,” Hope said. Her limbs felt heavy and uncooperative, and she struggled to sit up against the pillows.

  “Now, is there anything else you need?” Carmelita asked. She removed the stainless-steel covers on a steaming Denver omelet and fluffy buttermilk biscuits with fresh strawberry jam and real butter. Juice and coffee rounded out the meal.

  “No,” Hope said, taking her first heavenly sip of caffeine. “Just make sure Chase has a good breakfast, too.”

  Carmelita grinned. “I already have. He had a Denver omelet, too.” She paused. “He said to let Joey sleep as late as possible. Is that okay with you?”

  Hope nodded. “I think he’s going to have to skip school today.”

  Carmelita took the news in stride, which made Hope wonder if she was the only one, besides her son, who had trouble coping with Joey’s asthma. “What about you?” Carmelita continued officiously. “Are you going in to the office?”

  “Probably later, after Joey is up.” But right now, she thought, still feeling groggy and exhausted, there was no hurry.