After Midnight

by Diana Palmer

  Kane lifted a questioning eyebrow. Jurkins was almost shaking. “Sit down, Jurkins,” he said, gesturing to a chair.

  Jurkins looked oddly thin and frail in the big leather armchair. He was still twisting the paper clip. “I hope you won’t get in too much trouble.”

  “At least they aren’t going to shut us down,” Kane returned.

  Jurkins hesitated. He looked up and opened his mouth. He wanted to speak. But he couldn’t make the words come out. He got to his feet again, jerkily, red-faced.

  “I’ll, uh, get back to work now, sir,” he said. His voice was unsteady. So was the smile. “I hope it works out.”

  “So do I.” Kane sat on the edge of the desk when the man left and kept going over the odd conversation. Something was definitely wrong there. Jurkins knew something and he was afraid to tell it. He pushed the intercom button. “Get me Bob Wilson,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” came the quick reply.

  Haralson stared at Clayton Seymour as if he couldn’t believe his own ears.

  “You’re firing me?” he asked the other man. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’m going to give Nikki your job.”

  Haralson, always so cordial and kind, suddenly turned nasty. He sat up in the chair, holding his cigar between his cold fingers, and reached into his desk drawer. “No, you aren’t. Want to know why?”

  “Do tell me,” Clayton invited with smiling, cool confidence.

  Haralson drew a photograph, an 8 x 10 glossy, out of the drawer and tossed it across the desk to Clayton.

  “If you want to see that on the front page of every tabloid in the country, fire me.”

  Clayton gasped. It wasn’t blatant, for a photograph of that sort, but it made innuendoes that were unmistakable. That was Kane Lombard—and his sister!

  “I’m sure you’ll see things my way,” Haralson said pleasantly. “I’m going to get you back in office, of course, that’s a byproduct. But my main purpose is to bury Lombard. He cost my father his cabinet position. He found out that my father was having an affair with an intern and he told his family and they spilled it to the whole damned world!

  “I was in my last year of school when it happened, but I never forgot. We lived in a small town in Texas, and that sleazy tabloid ran the story week after week after week! My mother killed herself over it, and I swore I’d make Lombard and his family pay! It’s all been a means to an end—my job with Torrance, everything! Torrance had no choice but to hire me, and to send me here to help you when I told him to,” he added, laughing. “You see, I have friends who know the ins and outs of the detecting game. And I know all about Mosby Torrance.”

  “What do you know, exactly?” Clayton asked.

  “That he’s gay.”

  Clayton couldn’t reply. He didn’t dare say a word. The man was unbalanced, and if he wanted to believe that about Mosby for the time being, it might be safer than the truth. He looked down at the photo.

  “Take it with you,” Haralson invited. “I still have the negatives. And tell your sister she’ll have no opportunity to make that monster, Lombard, happy. I told her on the phone that she’d see those pictures published if she took one step toward Lombard. I won’t let him have any happiness. He’s going to pay and pay and keep on paying until he’s as dead as my mother is!”

  Clayton wandered back to his office with his mind in limbo. Haralson was dangerous. How could he have missed the signs? Mosby was afraid of the man because he thought Haralson knew the truth. In fact, he didn’t, but that hardly mattered if he had Mosby on the run. Now he had Nikki on the run. Clayton didn’t know what to do. If he showed the photo to Nikki in her present state of mind, she might lose it.

  The election was less than a month away. Haralson had something else up his sleeve. No doubt he was going to publish those photos anyway. He’d probably wait until the last possible minute and then let fly. The scandal would destroy Nikki socially. It would ruin Lombard in the process. It might even do enough damage to Sam Hewett’s campaign—because Kane’s brother was his campaign manager—to cost Hewett the election. Clayton wanted to win. But not that way!

  He only knew of one possible thing to do, to stop Haralson in time. It was probably the mistake of his life. He got in his car and drove out to Seabrook, to the new Lombard beach house.

  If Kane Lombard was shocked to find Clayton Seymour standing on his doorstep, he hid it quickly. He had a glass of scotch and ice in one big hand. His eyebrow jerked as he stood aside to let the shorter man enter.

  The beach house was luxurious, Clayton thought, and right on the marina. It must have cost a fortune. Well, Kane had one.

  “Is this a social call?” Kane drawled.

  “Thank your lucky stars that I’m not homicidal,” Clayton returned. He glanced around. “Are you alone?”

  Kane nodded. “What is it?”

  “I think you’d better have a look at this.” He took the photograph from the inside of his suit jacket and tossed it on the coffee table.

  Kane’s eyes darkened. He cursed violently.

  “Who?” he demanded, his eyes promising retribution.

  “My reelection campaign manager,” Clayton said heavily. “I went in to fire him this morning and he handed me that.” He glared at the older man. “I could kill you for doing this to Nikki.”

  “I made love to Nikki,” he returned solemnly. “Please notice the wording. I didn’t seduce her, have sex with her, or any number of less discreet euphemisms. I made love to her.”

  Clayton relaxed a little. Not much. He was still furious. “Did it have to be on the beach?”

  “I couldn’t make it to the house,” came the rueful reply. The smile faded quickly though. “Has Nikki seen this?” he asked suddenly.

  “No, Nikki heard about this,” he said. “She was warned not to go near you or these pictures would be smeared over the front page of every tabloid he could reach by the next morning.”

  “So that was all it was. Thank God.” Kane relaxed, looking as if he’d just won a state lottery. In another state, of course, South Carolina didn’t have one.

  “Haven’t you talked to her?”

  “I’ve tried to do nothing else,” the other man said heavily. “She said it was all a mistake, and I believed she meant it.” His head lifted. “But now I’m going to marry her. If you don’t like it, that’s tough,” he added without blinking, his face hard and relentless.

  “At least you’re honorable enough to stand by her,” Clayton said stiffly.

  “Stand by her, hell. I love her! Do you think I’d have touched her in the first place if I hadn’t had honorable intentions?” he demanded. “She was a virgin, for God’s sake!”

  Clayton gaped at him. He hadn’t expected that answer. “A virgin?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “It’s hardly the sort of thing a man can discuss with his sister.” He hesitated. So many things were beginning to become clear. “I thought Nikki knew it all. She doesn’t really know anything…” He looked up. “You said you loved her.”

  “I loved her the day I met her,” came the grim reply. “I couldn’t stop. I tried, though.” Kane took a sip of the scotch. His head lifted and he glared at the other man. “You’re a damned blackguard of a politician. You planted that waste at the dump site deliberately and led the media to it.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Clayton said honestly. “Haralson had one of his cronies find the dump and call in the media. I still don’t know all of it. The one thing I’m sure of is why he did it. Your father apparently printed a story about his father that got him kicked off the president’s cabinet some years ago and Haralson’s mother committed suicide. It’s you he’s after, not Sam Hewett.”

  Kane whistled. “I wondered why the name sounded familiar. It’s a wonder I didn’t recognize it sooner, but I had other things on my mind.” He looked up and frowned. “But why are you here?”

  Clayton didn’t even blink as he replied. “Because I ca
n’t let him blackmail Nikki—or myself—for that matter. If I lose the election, I’ll do it honestly. I don’t need to use underhanded methods.”

  “Who else is he blackmailing?”

  “My ex-brother-in-law.”

  “Torrance is gay, I take it?” Kane asked quietly.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he replied. “It’s his secret, although he did tell me when they got divorced. I thought Nikki knew, but I don’t suppose that she does now.”

  “I won’t tell her. But I’m going to know.”

  Clayton hesitated, but only for a minute. He shrugged and quietly told the other man what he wanted to know.

  Kane was silent for a long time. “You read about these things. You never quite believe them.” He glanced at Clayton. “Haralson knows, I gather?”

  “No. He suspects what you did,” Clayton replied, smiling. “What he doesn’t realize is that if Mosby were gay, he wouldn’t be hiding it in the first place. He’s not the sort. In fact, he has any number of gay friends.”

  “Which is probably where the rumors started.”

  “No doubt.”

  Kane stared at the photograph again. He grimaced. “Nikki isn’t going to like this, but I only know of one way to stop a blackmailer short of killing him.” He picked up the photo with a regretful smile. “I think you know what has to be done.”

  “That’s why I came.” He got to his feet. “You’d better marry her soon. She lost her breakfast this morning.”

  “And this is only the first week.” Kane grinned like a Cheshire cat. “My poor Nikki.”

  Clayton glared at him. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

  “For making a baby?” he asked, eyebrows levering up. “I lost mine,” he said, his voice deepening. “My son. I thought my life was over, that I’d never have the nerve to try again. But Nikki opened up the world for me. Ashamed? My God. I’m going to strut for the rest of the day, and then I’m going to drag Nikki up in front of the first minister I can find.” He reached in a drawer and produced a document. “That is a marriage license. You can come to the wedding, but after that, we will not expect you to be a regular visitor. Especially until after the election, which my candidate is going to win.”

  Clayton found himself grinning. “You bastard.”

  Kane grinned back. “It does take one to know one,” he pointed out.

  “You’re going to print that?” he nodded toward the photograph.

  “Can you think of another way?”

  “Not off the top of my head.”

  “Then the sooner, the better. Don’t tell Nikki. I’ll break it to her tonight.”

  Clayton glanced at him. “You’d better make her happy.”

  “That’s a foregone conclusion. She loves me, you see,” he added quietly. “She might not know it—or admit it—just yet, but she does.”

  “Does she know how you feel?”

  Kane stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been keeping that to myself.” He looked up. “We always expect women to read minds. I guess sometimes they need telling.”

  “I guess.” He went out the door. He looked back at Kane. “Like hell your candidate is going to win,” he tossed over his shoulder. Deep laughter followed him into the yard.

  Bett was lounging on her sofa with the phone to her ear. She started cursing and her face grew redder and redder. She sat up.

  “But he can’t do that! He can’t fire you!”

  Haralson laughed. “He isn’t going to. I had his sister followed recently when she had a clandestine meeting with Kane Lombard. I got some photos that he isn’t going to want to see printed.”

  Bett relaxed. “Thank God for that. What are we going to do?”

  “I thought you were going to marry him.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” she shot back. “He’s useful, but not that useful. I have no intention of living in Charleston, South Carolina.”

  “Snob.”

  She twisted the cord around her finger. “Mosby won’t like it if you use that photo. He’s still protective of Nikki.”

  “He won’t know until it’s too late. He won’t bother me, either. I know something about him.”

  Bett smiled. “What?”

  “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

  “Be secretive. I’ll make Clayton tell me.”

  “You’d better hurry, then, because he had a long tête-à-tête with his ex-secretary the other night and he’s having lunch with her today.”

  “What?!”

  “I didn’t think you knew. If I were you, sweetie pie,” he said sarcastically, “I’d spend a little time protecting my hunting preserve.”

  “Call Sam Hewett,” she said shortly. “Tell him that his exec is out hobnobbing with the enemy camp!”

  “I had that in mind,” Haralson said.

  “What will you do if Clayton comes up with something to use against you?” she asked after a minute.

  “Mosby will save me. He’ll have to.”

  “Then it will be all right, I guess.”

  Haralson laughed. “Of course it will.”

  Senator Mosby Torrance was fielding questions from reporters after a news conference. He’d supported the president on a vote to assist U.N. troops in the Serbia-Bosnian hostilities. His eyes lit on one particular female reporter for CNN, a beauty if there ever was one.

  After the conference he paused to talk to her, his blue eyes appreciative on her exquisite skin. She had to be in her thirties, but she was a heavenly combination of beauty, brains and personality. She made his head spin….

  A telephone call was waiting for him when he got back to the Senate Office Building. He motioned his secretary to put it through.

  “Great timing!” Haralson laughed curtly when he heard Mosby’s voice. “I caught you coming in the door, I guess?”

  “I guess.” Mosby was bitter and sounded it.

  “Did I interrupt something? I hope not. Listen, I’m turning some photos of your ex-wife over to the press.”

  Mosby went silent. “What sort of photos?”

  “Pictures of her with Kane Lombard in a, shall we say, compromising position.” He laughed. “I don’t expect you to say a word,” he added coldly. “I know what you are. Unless you want the media all over you, closet queen, you’d better do as I say.”

  Mosby’s eyes widened. “What did you call me?”

  “Stop playing dumb! You’ve always known that I knew. You’re gay.”

  Mosby’s eyes twinkled. He felt liberated. He’d kept this barracuda on the payroll for years because he’d had the threat of exposure hanging over his head. And all along Haralson had thought he was gay?

  He started laughing. He started and couldn’t stop.

  “I’ll tell the whole damned world!” Haralson was threatening.

  The laughter got worse. Vaguely, Mosby was aware of cursing and the slam of the telephone receiver. This was too good to be true.

  But when he got hold of himself, he remembered what Haralson had said about some compromising photos of Nikki. He really couldn’t allow her to be hurt by his own blackmailer. He owed her a warning.

  He had his secretary dial Nikki. But the number he had wasn’t the right one. It had been changed. He’d have to call Clay. He hoped there was enough time to save Nikki from whatever diabolical fate Haralson had planned for her.

  The phone rang several times before it was answered. Finally a feminine voice replied, “Hello?”

  Mosby recognized the voice. It was Bett. He almost spoke, but then he remembered that she and Haralson were thick as thieves. Had she been selling him down the river all along? He couldn’t let her in on what he knew.

  Slowly, he put down the receiver. He thought for a minute, then he buzzed his secretary. “Get me on the next flight to Charleston,” he said.

  “But, Senator, you’ve got a committee meeting…”

  “Call and explain that I have an emergency in my district. Tell them,”
he added, “that it’s a family emergency.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He hung up and reached for his attache case. If he hurried, he might be in time to avert a disaster for Nikki—and, inadvertently, one for Clayton.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A tall, slender man wandered into the executive offices of Lombard, International. He was wearing jeans and boots with a long-sleeved red shirt and a denim jacket. His hair was in a ponytail and he wore dark glasses. He flashed his credentials and was immediately allowed into the big boss’s office.

  Kane Lombard was big and fierce-looking—not a man Cortez would have enjoyed tangling with.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked Cortez after motioning him into a chair and offering him coffee.

  “I want to talk to a man who works for you—a man named Jurkins.”

  Kane scowled. “Will Jurkins?”

  “That’s him.” He hesitated. “There’s something I’d better tell you up front. I do work for the government, but I have no jurisdiction here and no authority to question anyone in this particular circumstance.” He leaned forward. “But if you’ll give Jurkins to me for about three minutes, I think I can help you extricate yourself from this damned mess that I helped Haralson mire you in.”

  “You…?”

  “Sit down,” Cortez said wearily, motioning an infuriated Kane back into his executive chair. “I’m a tenth degree black belt. Just take my word for it and don’t ask for proof. I didn’t know what I was doing. Haralson wanted a favor. I hate polluters. I’ve prosecuted any number of them over the years. But I’m on my first vacation in a decade and Haralson cost me any rest I might have gotten. Why don’t you send for Jurkins and I’ll let you in on a few closely guarded secrets about that toxic waste dump?”

  Kane only hesitated for a minute. “All right.” He hit the intercom button. “Get Jurkins back in here. Don’t tell him I’ve got company.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” came the dry reply.

  The last person in the world that Nikki expected to find on her doorstep was her ex-husband. Mosby Torrance looked tired, but he smiled as she stood aside to let him into the house.