by Jan Hudson
"Spider?" she whispered, sliding her hands along the breadth of his shoulders.
"Sugar, I don't think I can go again right now. Give me a couple of minutes."
She giggled and swatted his backside. "Get off me, you hulk. You're heavy."
Putting his arms around her, he rolled away, taking her with him so that she lay atop him. He fingered strands of her hair and touched her lips. "I'm sorry I was so rough with you, darlin'. I wanted you so damned bad, it got out of hand. Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head and chuckled. "I was as rough as you were. I don't know what got into me."
He wiggled one black eyebrow and grinned. "I do, darlin'. Me."
Laughing, she gave him a playful swat. "Bad pun."
He wrapped both arms around her and held her close. His voice was thick with emotion as he said, "Lord, Annie, I'm crazy about you." After a moment he added in a lighter tone, "And you're hell on wheels in bed."
'That's not a very romantic thing to say." She poked him in the ribs and he flinched. "You're ticklish!"
"No, I'm not."
But he was. She delighted in torturing him as they tussled in the tangled satin sheets until he was laughing and begging for mercy.
They showered and laughed and made love. They straightened the bed and slept with Spider holding her close to him, as if he never wanted her to move from his side. Sometime after dawn they awakened and reached for one another again.
During that time, Preston wasn't mentioned. But when Anne awakened later, she found Spider lying beside her, his head propped by his elbow, his blue eyes watching her.
"You have some explaining to do," he said. "Want some coffee first?"
She nodded.
"I’ll fix it."
While he was gone, she slipped on her gown and went to the bathroom. Brushing her tangled hair, she tried to decide what to tell him and how much to tell him.
The truth. All of it. He deserved no less.
Feeling chilly in her thin gown, she draped his black leather jacket around her shoulders, then straightened Spider's bed and sat down on its edge to wait.
She suspected that he was going to be angry that she had lied to him about being married, and the idea of his being angry or disappointed in her hurt. Absently, she stroked the worn leather of the jacket. It occurred to her that his reaction was extremely important. She was very close to falling in love with Spider Webb, pawnbroker and ex-football player, a man far removed from the life she'd always known. It was a sobering, scary thought. When had she come to care so much for this man? Was it after last night? Or had it gradually sneaked up on her without her even being aware of it?
Maybe he'd understand when she explained the whole story.
Dressed only in black jeans, zipped but unbuttoned, he came back carrying a tray. His hair was tousled and already dark whiskers shadowed his jaw, but one piercing look from his diamond-blue eyes and her heart turned over.
"Why are you out of bed? I brought coffee. And some toast I fixed while the coffee dripped."
"It looks like you used a whole loaf of bread."
He grinned. "I'm hungry. And I’ve got to keep my strength up." Setting the tray down, he stacked pillows against the headboard and held back the covers for her. "Get in. It'll keep your tootsies warm.”
When she did, he tucked the fur cover around her, put the tray across her lap, and spread a towel under her chin. Dragging the step stool up close, he slathered butter and grape jelly on a piece of toast and insisted on feeding her every bite of it.
"What about you?" she asked.
"I cheated. I had a couple of pieces in the kitchen."
"No, I mean, aren't you cold?"
A slow, cocky smile lifted one side of his mouth. "I told you I was hot-natured."
She laughed, and he poked another bite of toast into her mouth.
When their coffee cups were empty and only a few crumbs dotted the toast plate, he set the tray on the floor. Resting his bare heels on a rung of the stool, he propped his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward.
"Now, we talk."
Anne looked at him for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Are you angry with me?"
"Do I look angry?"
"No, but I . . . lied to you."
"Yes, you did, sugar. And I want to know why."
"Well, at first, I had to explain why I was using a name different from the one on my driver's license. It seemed like a logical explanation."
He nodded. "And later?"
"Spider, this is later. I trust you now. I ... I care about you. So I told you the truth. I didn't have to."
"What about this Preston character, your stepbrother? Is he really after you?"
Anne nodded and told him about her mother's death, Preston's proposal, and the conversation she had overheard between Preston and Bradley, the deputy director of the FBI, the night she came home. Spider's jaw tightened until the muscles twitched and his eyes went as cold as a Canadian winter.
"Son of a bitch! He ought to have his eyeballs roasted over a slow fire."
"I would provide the matches," Anne declared. "I was so scared after I heard what he said to Bradley that I hid in the hall closet until Preston went upstairs. I knew that I had to get away somewhere, calm down, and think what to do. Somehow I kept my wits about me enough to open the safe and stuff every file I could find into a briefcase. I figured that the deputy director's 'extremely sensitive' one that Preston alluded to would be among them and might give me some leverage. Then I grabbed my purse from the hall table, sneaked out to the garage, and took off in my car. I went to an all-night diner a few miles away."
"You should have called the police."
"I did. The chief. Fool that I was, I told him everything."
"Didn't the bastard believe you?"
"Oh, he believed me. He told me to calm down and stay put, he'd be there in a few minutes. I was sitting in a back booth, drinking a cup of coffee and trying to stop shaking, when I saw him get out of a car in front of the diner. Preston was with him. I ran out the back way. I'd parked my car in the shadows on the side, and they didn't see me leave."
"Why in the hell did the idiot call Preston?"
"They play golf together. And I hadn't looked at any of the files then, but Bradley's was not the only sensitive one in the safe. I discovered later there were a score of them, and Preston had a particularly nasty dossier on the chief’s daughter. I was almost hysterical by then, and it was after midnight, so I drove to Georgetown to my friend Meg's house. I know I wasn't making much sense, but Meg and her husband Howard put me in their guest room. I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs to get a glass of milk and overheard Howard talking on the phone. I gathered from what he said that Preston had called my friends and told them that I was having a breakdown."
"And they believed him?"
She gave a bitter laugh. "Preston is very powerful and very persuasive. The story gets worse." She shivered.
Spider climbed into bed with her, drew the covers around her chin, and held her close. "Sugar, you don't have to talk about it right now if it upsets you."
"No, I want to tell you all of it. Needless to say, I sneaked away from Meg's house. I just drove until I was exhausted. I ended up in Norfolk. I checked into a hotel and slept for about twelve hours. Room service provided my meals, and a boutique downstairs brought clothes to me. For three days, I didn't go out of the hotel. That's when I read the files in the briefcase."
"The briefcase in there?" He inclined his head toward the organ against the wall.
She nodded.
"I knew they should be put in a secure place, so I decided to take them to the bank and rent a safety-deposit box. It was too late to do it that evening, so I was going to do it the first thing the next morning. Then it occurred to me that I needed to make copies. I looked through the yellow pages and found a copy shop that would be open late, so I went out. I was about to get in my car when somebody shot at me. If, just a
t that moment. I hadn't dropped my keys and bent to pick them up, I'd be dead. I jumped in the car and drove away. A second shot shattered the rear glass."
"Oh, darlin'." Spider laid his cheek on the top of her head and hugged her to him. "I won't let them find you. You're safe here with me."
"Oh, Lord I hope so, but I can't stay here forever. And Preston or his men always seem to find me." She threaded her fingers through the hair on his chest, taking comfort from his strength and the steady beat of his heart.
"After I left Norfolk, I drove to someplace in North Carolina and spent the night. While my car window was being replaced, I remembered a friend who lived in Raleigh and called her. Marmi insisted that I come to her house. She sounded a bit strange, but I decided I was being paranoid and drove to Raleigh that afternoon.
"Thankfully, I had the good sense to be cautious. I left my car in a lot and took a taxi. The driver must have thought I was crazy, but I insisted he circle the block twice. The second time around I noticed a car parked down the street with two men in it. One of them I recognized as a man who worked for Preston. I knew then I couldn't trust anybody. Preston must have called everyone in my address book."
"Surely, darlin', you had friends who wouldn't have been taken in by that slimeball."
"I've never been a gregarious person, Spider. I've never had as many friends as you. Acquaintances, yes, but, with my mother's Illness and my work, social time was limited. But I did think I had a few good friends, until I found myself in desperate need of one. I considered Meg a friend. Yet she believed Preston over me."
He tipped her chin and looked into her eyes. "I'm your friend, sugar. You can count on me for now and always." He smiled. "Believe it."
"I do."
Hugging her close again, he said, "Tell me the rest of it."
She settled against his chest and stared off into space as she remembered her frantic flight. "Thinking I could lose myself in the city, I spent the night in a small town in South Carolina and drove to Atlanta the next day. I checked into a hotel, bought clothes, and tried to figure out what to do. Finally, I decided I'd be safer in Europe, so I booked a flight, stored my car, and went to the airport. Somebody shot at me again as I was getting out of the taxi."
"My God, darlin', you must have been terrified!"
"I was, but I think the taxi driver was even more frightened. I ducked back inside, and he took off with the door still open."
"How did they find you?"
"I didn't figure that out until I had picked up my car and was halfway to Birmingham. Credit cards. Naive fool that I was, I'd left a trail a child could follow. Hotels, restaurants, dress shops, gas stations, the airline—everywhere. I charged things. Even for phone calls, I used my credit card. And for someone with Preston's resources, access to computer records is simple." She slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."
Spider stilled her hand and brought it up to kiss its palm. "Darlin', you weren't stupid. You were an honest person who'd never had a reason to think about devious tricks or hiding out. At least you caught on before they found you."
She nodded. "I had some traveler's checks and a little cash, but I knew it wouldn't last long. Then I remembered Vicki. I hadn't seen her for years before we ran into each other in France last fall, but I knew immediately that she was the perfect person to help me. I started for Houston. Keeping off the major highways and spending nights in small towns, I zigzagged my way here. But Vicki wasn't home, my money had run out, and you know the rest."
"Sugar, you've been very brave." He kissed the top of her head, stroked her arm, and said. "I don't think we should wait for Vicki. I think we should call the authorities right now. I have a friend in the DA's office who—"
"No!" she cried, pulling away and looking at him with pleading eyes. "You don't understand. I can't trust anybody! You can't believe the people Preston controls."
"Babe, I know he's scared hell out of you, but it can't be that bad." A smiling hint of patronization shaded his tone. "Surely—"
"Damn it. Spider Webb, listen to me! You haven't seen what's in that briefcase! Even if I could trust the police, I dare not let the files be seen by just anyone."
"Sugar—"
"Damn it, I said, don't you condescend to me!"
She scrambled out of the bed and stalked to the organ. Using both hands, she tugged at the scarred instrument, trying to move it away from the wall.
Spider bounded from the bed. "Here, sugar, let me do that."
She glared at him and lifted her nose. “I’ll do it, thank you very much."
Putting her whole body into it, she yanked and tugged and pulled until the organ rolled away from the wall. She knelt in front of the safe and put her hand on the dial. But she was so angry that she couldn't remember the combination. At that moment she'd have sooner eaten worms than have asked for Spider's help. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. The numbers wouldn't come.
"You need some help?"
"I can't remember the combination."
"You want me to do it?"
She ground her teeth together. "Just wipe that smug look off your face and give me the numbers."
When the safe was open, she clutched the briefcase to her bosom and marched back to the bed, with Spider dogging her trail. He held back the covers and she climbed in. He climbed in beside her. She scooted over so that they didn't touch. He put his arm around her and dragged her back.
Keeping her spine very straight, she opened the briefcase and pulled out several of the files. She thrust them at him and said, "Read. Many of the names you'll recognize. Those you don't, I’ll identify. The one on top is a key member of the Cabinet."
His eyes widened. "As in Washington?"
She nodded.
For several minutes, only the rustle of pages and an occasional profane expletive from Spider broke the silence of the room.
"Who is this?" He held up a page.
She leaned over and read the name. "Federal judge."
'And this?"
"Wife of a senator from the Midwest. And the next one is a member of the Federal Reserve Board. All of the people in the files, or a close family member, hold positions of great power and influence.”
Spider let out a whistle and leaned back against the brass headboard. "I don't need to read any more. I already feel like a Peeping Tom. This is heavy stuff. Some of these folks could go to prison."
Anne nodded. "Or be publicly disgraced. Preston was very thorough. He must have been collecting information for years and using my family's money to do it. He's been blackmailing some very important people. Oh, I suspect he exacted his tribute in political favors and information instead of money, but I have no doubt he was using this Information for blackmail. Imagine the scandal for our government if all this came out at once. There could be tremendous repercussions."
"Sugar, somebody needs to know about this. And Preston belongs in jail."
"I know that, but I can't just walk up to the White House and knock on the door. I dare not go to the FBI. And at least one of Preston's victims is highly placed in the Justice Department."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to wait for Vicki. She's a very bright attorney, honest to a fault, and her father is an ex-senator who is a close friend of the President. They'll know how to handle this."
Spider stuffed the files back in the briefcase. "No wonder you were so scared, sugar. You were in a hell of a spot."
"It frightens me just to think about all of it again."
"I’ll put these back in the safe. And then," he said with a wicked grin, "I’ll see what I can do to take your mind off it."
For the next several days Spider did everything he could to keep her mind off Preston and danger. He succeeded.
Sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, they went to movies, the zoo, a basketball game, and he even took her to a museum or two and swore that he wasn't bored. At night they made love and slept close togethe
r in his big brass bed. But he barely let her out of his sight. It was difficult even to go to the bathroom without Spider tagging along. She couldn't as much as start to open a jar of pickles without him grabbing it out of her hand and doing it for her.
While she appreciated his concern for her safety, and while she was growing fonder of him each day, his solicitude did sometimes rankle a bit. When she tried to talk to him about it, he'd drawl, "Ah, sugar, I like to spoil you," and kissed her until she forgot her arguments.
About midmorning of the end of her second week in Houston, both of them were in the shop. The Parlor was busy. It seemed that everybody in town had seen his Cupid commercial and had come in. Spider was writing a pawn ticket for a customer who was hocking his shotgun, and Anne was showing the Erté bronze to a potential buyer, a referral from one of the galleries.
"I think this is just the thing for my wife's birthday, little lady. How much?"
When she told him the price, he whipped out his checkbook. In less than five minutes, she'd made a sale. When the man left carrying the statuette, Anne waved the check at Spider. He grinned and winked.
She was feeling really good about herself. With the sales commission from the jade censer, the prayer rug, and the Meissen clock, she had paid Spider every penny she owed him and gotten her watch out of hock. He hadn't wanted to be repaid, but she'd insisted. She even had money in her new bank account. Not bad for someone who had only twenty-eight cents when she'd arrived in Houston.
The next thing she wanted to do was find her own transportation. Of course, Spider took her anywhere she wanted to go, but it wasn't the same as having her own car. She couldn't afford to buy one, but she could rent one for the week or so before Vicki came home.