Under the Sheets (Capitol Chronicles Book 1)

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Under the Sheets (Capitol Chronicles Book 1) Page 32

by Shirley Hailstock


  "Yes," he answered still holding her close, his hand gently caressing the skin between her neck and her ear.

  "That night at my house."

  "I remember." She could feel him smiling against her neck.

  "You told me you were in love with Brooke."

  The gentle movement of his fingers stopped. He sat up straight and stared at her. "I was," he said. Feeling her retreat, he took her hand. "For years," he explained. "I thought I was in love with her, but I wasn’t. I’m not quite sure what I feel for Brooke. I do love her. She’s more than a sister to me, but she’s not my lover and never has been.”

  Marianne was relieved to hear that. She held her breath, afraid to let it out in a long sigh.

  “Brooke is a strong woman,” he continued. “I have a great deal of respect for her, but she doesn’t make my blood boil. I suppose we were together for so long, she was constantly on my mind, but you filled my dreams, making me crazy for you."

  "I thought you wanted Brooke, and I was a poor substitute."

  Jacob folded her close to him. "You’d never be a substitute."

  "I’ve loved you for years," she told him.

  He hugged her. "What a fool I’ve been. I intend to tell you everyday for the rest of your life. I love you, Marianne."

  "I love you, Jacob." She raised her arm around his shoulder and met his mouth as it slid over hers.

  Chapter 21

  Jacob came through the door of his office and took a seat behind the large desk. Robyn and Grant looked at him from the two chairs directly in front of it. His stare was direct, but not chiseled. He looked. . .hap­pier, Robyn thought. He even smiled at her.

  "Is it over, Jacob?" she asked.

  "It’s over. Hammil told us everything. He met McAdams while on assignment in the Caribbean. Sev­eral years ago, Hamnil’s father died suddenly. He left very little insurance, and his mother was sick with cancer. Hammil poured all of his money into her treat­ments. By the time she died, he was heavily in debt. McAdams found that out and manipulated him, getting him to supply bits of information in exchange for money."

  "Where did Will get the money?" Robyn asked. "He lived a very meager life, comfortable but not showy."

  "He’d amassed it from the Crime Network and hid it in Caribbean banks. McAdams had plans of reviving the Network and using Hammil as his inside man."

  "But didn’t Hammil eventually pay off his debts?" Grant wanted to know.

  "Not entirely. Most of the medical expenses were paid, but there were massive debts left by his father’s failed businesses. Some of his ventures were financed by sources that were less than legal, shall we say."

  "How were they going to set up another Crime Net­work?" Grant asked.

  "McAdams had done it before. He knew everything that had to be done, and he was an extremely patient man. When we searched Hammil’s apartment, we found files on several key people in the Service. Most of the records centered on people having financial diffi­culty. The same method McAdams had used to rope Hammil would be employed to gain whatever infor­mation he needed."

  "Why did Hammil shoot him?"

  "He was at the end of indentureship. With Kari and you out of the way, McAdams had promised to give him all the documents he’d collected regarding his practices here. He’d be free to do his job without the threat of a sword hanging over his head. When McAdams pulled Kari back, Hammil saw his last chance for freedom evaporate. Marianne moved to catch Kari, so he shot her too. Thank god he wasn’t a sharpshooter."

  Robyn slowly smiled at Jacob.

  "I can’t believe its over," she said.

  "You’re free to go," Jacob stared at her.

  "What does that mean," Grant asked.

  "Exactly what it says," Jacob returned. "There’s no reason to keep Brooke in protective custody. We’re sure McAdams and Hammil acted as a team. You’re free to become a family again. Go where you like, live where you like, no restrictions." Jacob spread his hands and leaned back in his chair.

  Robyn took a breath. She got up and walked to the window. Outside, traffic buzzed along the street. It had been six weeks since that night at Logan Beach. It was winter in Washington. Around the tidal basin were clusters of plowed snow. The Japanese cherry trees stood as a bare, black contrast against the white marble monument and distant sky.

  Freedom, what a beautiful word. If she wanted to, she could run through the trees with no more resistance against her than the wind blowing her hair. She’d become so used to being careful, to actually be free of the invisible jail was both frightening and exhila­rating.

  "I can’t help feeling sorry for Will," Robyn spoke to the window.

  "Don’t feel sorry for him," Jacob said. "That old man engineered the deaths of at least two dozen men. If he’d lived, who knows what damage he and Hammil could have caused."

  "I hear what you’re saying, Jacob, but to me he was a loving father. To my daughter he was the grandfather she needed. Kari and I never could have survived without his kind nurturing."

  "I know how she feels," Grant said. "Will was the perfect father figure to me, but to his own son, he was unyielding. Like Brooke, he was there when I needed him."

  "It’s hard to believe the man who killed a room full of men in a restaurant is the same person who stayed up nights when Kari had ear infections, who went to nursery school with her, and cooked her favorite food."

  Robyn didn’t ask Jacob how he knew that. He knew everything about her. Some of it became clear when she found out Marianne really worked for him. Her reports told him when she was sliding off center. It was only at the furthest tangents that Jacob appeared to materialize.

  "Brooke, there’s another freedom you have," Jacob interrupted her thoughts. "You can go back to being Robyn Richards if you like. We’ll correct every­thing."

  Robyn turned to look at Grant. "Robyn Richards died in an automobile accident five years ago," she quoted. "She was en route to pick up her husband, a returning Lebanese prisoner, home from a television interview."

  Grant left his seat and came to take her hands. He followed with the rest of the story, "Grant Richards met Brooke Johnson in a hospital in Buffalo, New York. He immediately fell in love with her and can’t possibly live without her."

  "And they lived happily ever after." A voice came from the doorway.

  "Marianne!" Robyn and Grant said at the same time. "When did you get here?" Robyn asked, coming to hug her. She was careful of the cast Marianne still wore.

  "This morning," she answered. "Jacob picked me up."

  "You will have to get married again," Jacob told Grant when everyone was seated. "When Brooke went into the program all previous records were annulled to give you free and legal rights to remarry."

  Grant looked at her. "This time we can do it right, with orange blossoms and a warm weekend in June."

  "Maybe we can make it a double," Marianne stilled the room with her comment. She got up and went to perch on the arm of Jacob’s chair. He slipped his arm around her to the gaping surprise of the two other people in the room.

  "Marianne! That’s wonderful." Tears sprang to Robyn’s eyes, and she went and hugged her friend once again.

  Grant shook hands with Jacob. "Con­gratulations," he said with a smile.

  "Where is Kari?" Marianne asked. "I expected to see her here."

  "She’s with David and Susan," Grant replied. "They were thrilled to find Robyn alive, and they’ve practi­cally adopted Kari. I think this afternoon they’re tak­ing her to see the pandas at the zoo."

  "Well, partner," Robyn began. "Now, that we’re both get­ting married what are we going to do with the restau­rant?"

  "Everything is under control. We find we have a staff fully capable of handling things when both of us are away," Marianne smiled.

  "I guess Pete has taken the reins and is king of all he surveys."

  "I believe that’s a true statement." Marianne’s head bobbed up and down.

  "Do you think we should sell it to
him?"

  "You’d sell the restaurant?" she asked in surprise.

  "Aren’t you being reassigned?" Robyn asked. She knew after everything with Will was cleared up, Marianne would no longer have an assignment to protect her and Kari.

  "Marianne isn’t being reassigned, Brooke." Jacob slipped his arm around her again. "She’s being furloughed, permanently."

  "I find I like making broccoli flowers, shaping cheese and butter into topiary art, and my confections are always a surprise, not to mention the ultimate chocolate dessert."

  Robyn’s eyes found Grant’s. "I haven’t thought about this, but maybe we could let Pete and Sue-Ellen manage Yesterdays in Buffalo, and we can open a branch here."

  Robyn thought about it for a moment. Ideas suddenly buzzed in her head. She wondered where the best location was.

  "That sounds great. Then we wouldn’t have to dis­solve the partnership," Marianne said. She came around the desk and grabbed Robyn’s hands. The two women were ready to sit down and discuss expanding their partnership in Jacob’s office. Grant knew that. "We could use. . ."

  "I hate to break this up." He stopped Marianne looking at his watch. "But if we’re going to meet David and Susan, we’d better leave. You know Wash­ington traffic." If he didn’t get Brooke out of Jacob’s office, she and Marianne would spend the day plan­ning.

  Robyn moved to Grant and slipped her arm around him. "Isn’t it wonder­ful? Washington traffic? And I can go out in it and not wonder if there’s someone out there looking for me." She released him and went to Jacob. "Thank you for everything," she said and hugged him. "Marianne, I’ll see you soon." Grant caught Brook’s hand and led her through the door.

  Jacob lifted Robyn Richards’s folder from his desk drawer. He took the contents and placed them in a fresh manila folder. Top Secret was printed across the cover. Sealing it with red tape he stamped CLOSED across it.

  Marianne put her arms around him from the back of his chair. "I’m so glad everything worked out," she said.

  "Me, too." Jacob stood, turning her into his arms and lifted her chin. "I love you very much." She opened her mouth to return the sentiment, but he stifled it with a kiss that had her purring like a contented cat.

  ***

  Robyn awoke cradled in Grant’s arms. She felt as if she were glowing, that a light actually radiated from her. But she knew it was only a feeling. The sun must be setting, for the light filtering through the curtains was dim.

  After she and Grant left Jacob’s office, they went to his condo and spent the afternoon making love. She felt whole, complete as if her soul had been drifting free, without form, for the last five years until Grant found it and restored it to life.

  Turning her head, she gazed at him sleeping next to her, his features relaxed. A well of sudden emotion burst forward, giving her no time to stop it or even dampen it down, before it racked her with a force that pierced her core. She basked in the aura of love. Fate had dealt her a blow, but now that everything was clear and she was free to do as she pleased, she knew the fates looked upon her with favor.

  Without disturbing Grant, she lifted his arm and crept out of bed. His shirt lay on the floor where he’d discarded it. She picked it up and slipped her arms into it as she left the bedroom and padded to the living room. The room looked different now. When she’d been here before, this had been Grant’s apartment. This was where she would have remembered him when she allowed herself the luxury of thinking about him. But now she could think of herself in relation to this space.

  Outside, darkness blanketed the city. In the distance she could see lights dotted against the evening sky. Her eyes fell on the piano. She went to it. The piano had changed, too. Before it held a large vase of flowers, now there were picture frames with Kari and herself. The two photographs added life to the room.

  Robyn fingered the keys making a tinkling noise. Then, she sat down. The seat was cool through the thin shirt.

  Grant stood in the bedroom doorway as Brooke’s hands hovered above the keys. He knew what she’d play before her fingers touched the keys. Quietly, the strands of Chopin’s Nocturne in E-major began. He knew it was only a matter of time before she was no longer able to resist sitting down. Since the night at the park when Kari had been calmed, she’d been here several times and each time she seemed drawn to the piano, but she hadn’t played it. She played the song with the same intensity she made love. It started slow, ever so slowly, like her fingers on his back. Then, she began the build, a steady drive that climbed and climbed up toward the edge of the world, climbed toward the crescendo of light that drew them into the vortex of expanding emotion. Her fingers shimmered across the keys, bringing the music to life and re­leasing the rhythms of love until it forced them to cry out in a shattering light that burst into color and pitched them over the edge. Then, lingeringly, she prolonged the end, slowing the pace until his heart­beat returned to normal, and the last note of the song died in the reverberating silence of the darkened room.

  He loved her. He didn’t know how much he’d missed her until he saw her sitting at the piano, wear­ing his shirt, her hands on the keys. When Jacob ex­plained the reason she pushed him away and was forever saying good-bye, he thought he’d die knowing she was alive and not knowing where she was or how to get in touch with her.

  Grant went to her. Robyn looked up as he came toward her. She took his hand. "I want to talk to you," she said. She got up, and he followed her to the sofa. He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "In all these weeks, Grant," she began tenta­tively. "You’ve never asked me why I went alone."

  "I guessed you’d tell me when you were ready."

  She squeezed his hand. She needed something to hold, an anchor. "It wasn’t because I didn’t love you more than anything else in the world." Bending, she kissed his knuckles. "Part of it was the flying. The other part was Project Eagle.

  "Clarence Christopher explained your part in re­gaining possession of a vital part of a defense system. More than your life and those of the nine other men was at stake. Without that system, he explained, mil­lions could die."

  "Brooke, don’t you know nothing is more important to me than you? Nothing was ever more important than you."

  "I know that, darling. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. According to Clarence Christopher, we had to have that system part returned. And flying was your life."

  “I. . .”

  "No-no," she stopped him. "I thought of having you come into the program later, after the defense sys­tem job was complete, but there was no guarantee as to when that would be. By then, you’d have done your grieving, and I was so completely changed. . .it didn’t seem fair."

  "You don’t know the kind of hell I’ve lived without you."

  "At the time, I thought it was better for you," she apologized.

  "I can live without the sky, without everything ex­cept you. Without you, I’m nothing. Promise me you won’t ever make that kind of decision again?"

  Robyn’s eyes were blank as she looked at him. How could she do that? She loved him too much still to take everything he lived for away from him.

  "Brooke," Grant insisted. "You are my life and now Kari is, too. Without the two of you, there is nothing." He pulled her against him. "Promise me, sweetheart. Promise me it’s for better or worse?"

  "For better or worse," she promised.

  Grant kissed her, and for a long time, there was silence in the room.

  "There is just one more thing, Brooke Johnson." Grant spoke into her hair.

  "What’s that?" She could feel him smiling against her.

  "I’d like to propose."

  Robyn sat up. "All right, propose." She switched the light on. "Right now?"

  "Right now." A smile tilted her mouth. "You don’t want to be dressed in a flowing gown, with moonlight and roses?"

  "No, Kari can have that."

  "Will you marry me?" he asked, gathering her close to him.

  Robyn pl
aced her hand on his chest, stopping the forward motion. "You don’t mind that I’m not going back to being Robyn?"

  "Not in the least. I’ve gotten used to you being Brooke, and I’m one of the few men in history who can be a bigamist—legally." He grinned at her. "I love you, Grant."

  "I love you more than I thought it possible," he ran his hand down her cheek. "Will you marry me?"

  "Yes," she said, leaning forward and placing her mouth against his. Grant kissed her hard. His hands removed the shirt from her shoulders, and he carried her back to bed.

  THE END

  White Diamonds

  "WHITE DIAMONDS is a fast-paced romantic suspense that entices readers to finish in one sitting. . . . The audience will shout 'Hail, hail' to Shirley Hailstock for a great story."

  —Affaire de Couer

  "Gripping. A powerful drama—& powerful love story."

  —Stella Cameron

  Dedication

  To my grandmother, Sallie Farrow Hailstock, who

  never learned to read or write but taught me

  more about life and love than anyone.

  Acknowledgements

  I am especially indebted to David Anderson, an online buddy, who took the time to research some information on helicopters and to answer my hundred and one questions on how they operate and fly.

  To Diana and Garikai Campbell, two Ph.D. candidates in al­gebraic numbers theory at Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey, who put the world of mathematics into understandable terms.

  A special thanks to Jinny Beckler, former Director of the Plainsboro, N.J., Public Library, for her and her staff's untiring efforts to find obscure pieces of information each time I walk through the door or called the reference department.

 

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