There was an accent to the voice. Hispanic? She wasn’t certain. It remained soft and chilling, barely a whisper. Husky, yet curiously sexless.
She remained absolutely still.
“Warn me? About what?” Oh, God, she couldn’t believe this. Just beyond the alleyway, there were people everywhere. Still staring after Mickey and Jordan and the tire slasher. She might have been in another world. Beyond the alley, street lamps gently bathed the night. The shadows where she stood were encompassing and ominous. She couldn’t see her attacker at all. Just glimpses of the hand that held the blade against her.
“Warn you, yes. Listen to me. Pay heed...” Soft laughter. “Feel...”
She did. Oh, yes. The increased pressure on the knife pressed to her flesh. She felt the sharp edge of the blade. Surely it would break through flesh in a matter of seconds. “Make him stop it, eh, Kathy? No reunion. No Blue Heron. You can make him do anything. Make him stop it now!” The flat of the blade was drawn even more tightly against her flesh. She couldn’t breathe. God, what should she do? Fight and die in a pool of blood—or suffocate?
Suddenly, forcefully, she was thrust forward. She stumbled, falling onto the sidewalk in the glowing illumination lent by a street light.
She leapt to her feet and spun around, staring into the alley, a scream rising in her throat.
Fifteen
JORDAN CAUGHT UP WITH Mickey about two blocks down from the restaurant. They had made a perfect V in pursuit of the tire slasher, but due to the crowds in the streets and the heavy flow of traffic, he had managed to elude them.
Mickey swore. “Damned vandals!”
“Ummm,” Jordan murmured, bending over to catch his breath. He was in decent shape, but the kid who had eluded them was in much better condition. “You think it was just a vandal?”
“Maybe not...” Mickey looked thoughtful.
Jordan suddenly felt a surge of unease. “Kathy,” he muttered. He turned. He was walking at first, then sprinting, then running pell-mell again, suddenly stirred by panic. Mickey was close behind him.
When he reached the outside of the restaurant again, he slowed, his sense of panic fading. Kathy was standing right where he had left her.
He started to say her name; then he began to run again, half leaping over the Buick to come to her side.
Her face was ashen. The sleek white halter dress she’d been wearing was smudged and dirtied. People were moving about her, but didn’t seem to notice her.
“Kathy...?”
Her fingers entwined in the material of his shirt as she gripped his arms. Her touch was painful, and shaking convulsed the length of her.
“Kathy, damn it, what happened?”
Her eyes focused on his as she struggled for control, blinking hard, forcing back tears. She managed to form words. “There was a man—I think—someone... in the alley. You ran and he grabbed me and—”
“And what, Kathy, what?” he demanded anxiously. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Are you—”
“Kathy, take it slowly,” Mickey said gently from behind Jordan.
She swallowed. Her fingers still had a death grip upon his arms.
“As soon as you two were gone—when everyone was staring after you—he... he dragged me back into the alley. He had a knife at my throat, but he said he didn’t want to hurt me. Yet. He wants me to stop you from having the reunion.”
“He said that?” Mickey demanded.
Jordan was trying to extract her fingers from his shirt. “Kathy, you’ve got to let go. We’ve got to try to find him.”
“Jordan, I never saw him. You can’t find him. You don’t know who you’re looking for!”
“Someone else must have seen—”
“No one did. People were staring after the two of you. It seemed like forever, but it all happened in a matter of seconds. He threw me out and disappeared. The alley goes to the other street. He could be anywhere now, ten feet from us or ten miles, we’d never know. I haven’t the faintest idea of what he looks like!”
Jordan went still. She was right. In this throng, how could they possibly look for a suspicious character. By now, South Beach was wickedly alive. The punks were out, the rockers were out, tourists in all shapes, colors, and sizes were out. New age music was spilling from a nearby club, vying with the sounds of a fifties revival from down the street. People were beginning to stop. A girl pointed toward them, then shouted, “It’s him! Blue Heron! What’s the guy’s name, Jordan Treveryan.” Her voice fell slightly. “That must be his wife.”
“Ex-wife,” someone supplied.
Jordan could feel the crush coming toward them. A flashbulb flared with sudden brilliance, blinding them.
“What’s happened here?” Someone else cried out.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jordan muttered.
“Let’s go,” Mickey agreed.
“The tires—”
“Will get us out of here. Let’s go.”
Kathy seemed all but frozen. Jordan dragged her toward the car, thrusting her into the middle of the front seat, sliding in beside her. People, like a cloud of bees, started to home in on them. Mickey blared the horn, while Jordan forced a smile to his face and waved out the window, causing the crowd that had gathered to break apart for them.
They made it down the street, the rim under the slashed tire clunking and trembling all the way.
“We’re wrecking your car,” Kathy said suddenly.
“That’s all right. I’ll bill you both,” Mickey said.
She was still shaking. Jordan took her hand in both of his, trying to give her warmth, wishing he could give her strength.
This was all his doing. He’d been so damned determined.
“We’ll drop it,” he said.
“What?” she looked at him, still pale.
“No reunion. I won’t take chances with our lives.”
She half smiled, her amber eyes near golden, luminous. “No.”
“Kathy—”
“We can’t let thugs threaten us in back alleys. Jordan, we agreed. Didn’t we just discuss this? If we don’t find out what’s happening, we just might be in danger all our lives. And susceptible. But we can be on guard now. We’re not dealing with phone calls, vague threats. We know someone is playing a dangerous game.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “The girls, Kathy—”
“We’ll tell them I was threatened this evening. We don’t need to tell everyone the whole truth—all our suspicions. We’ll just say I was mugged, that Mickey thinks we all might be in danger. The girls will understand. They’re not stupid or foolish.”
“They don’t leave the house. Not for a minute. And neither do you, understand?” he said.
He thought she shivered again, but her chin was held high, her eyes were determined as she looked straight ahead.
“Do we report this?” Jordan asked Mickey. “Can you write up what happened? I want to get to the house and stay there. I don’t want Kathy coming out again until it’s all over.”
“Jordan—” she began.
“I’m City of Miami, you were on Miami Beach,” Mickey said unhappily. “But I can get a pal to come out to the house to talk to Kathy. Maybe we can get some kind of fix on the guy. It was a guy, right?”
“The voice...” Kathy shrugged, looking puzzled. “It had to be a guy. He was strong. Really strong. But there was something about his hands...”
“What about them?” Jordan demanded sharply.
“He was young, perhaps. I only saw one hand—because he wanted to make sure I saw the blade. I think... I think his flesh was very smooth.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever that’s worth!”
“Hmmm,” Mickey murmured non-committally.
“What’s the ‘hmmm’ for?” Kathy asked.
Jordan was looking at Mickey. He said, “I think, those guys were hired by someone for this mischief. They’re just petty crooks, hired off the street.”
“Oh!” Kathy said with di
smay.
“Don’t be so discouraged,” Jordan told her.
“But—”
“Find these guys,” Mickey supplied, “and we have a chance of finding out who hired them.”
It was well into the morning hours before Kathy had a chance to lie down and try to get some sleep.
Everything in her hurt. She wasn’t sure why—except that she’d been a ball of tension while that razor-sharp knife lay against her throat... and because the bastard had knocked her to the ground so hard. She’d been careful not to let anyone know just how badly she’d been hurting, and she’d let Jordan make her a drink that was much more Jack Black than it was ginger ale, and that had blurred a little of the pain. She’d tried to downplay everything as much as possible while trying to emphasize just how careful her daughters had to be. Jordan stayed with her while Mickey’s friend from South Beach took a statement from her, but guilt pricked at her all the while. Jeremy, naturally, was deeply concerned, anxious, as good as gold to her. And her mother was wonderful, caring and solicitous without being at all hysterical. Sally could be great.
Even Tara Hughes came to the fore. She showed marked concern for Kathy’s welfare, was the first to suggest a good stiff drink, and put an arm around Kathy’s shoulders at any time both Jordan and Jeremy were absent.
By midnight, the Miami Beach officer left them. Within the next hour, Mickey Dean was gone as well. Jeremy, Joe, Angel, and Jordan locked all the doors to the house and set the alarm. Mickey had contacted a private agency and had hired two men to watch the house for the following week. While all this was going on, Kathy met Jordan’s eyes. The danger wouldn’t come from outside tonight, they both knew it. But they had to go through all the right steps anyway.
Right before going up to bed, Tara sat beside Kathy on the couch on the porch. “I—I’ve got some Valium, if you think you could use one. Hell, any doctor in the country would suggest you take a pill tonight.”
“I’m all right, really. The drink was great. I’ll sleep like a rock.”
Tara shook her head. “You’re something. If someone had held a knife to my throat a few hours ago, I’d still be screaming. You’re brave.”
Kathy shook her head, smiling. “No, I’m not. I was in terror while that guy threatened me. But he was probably just some hired punk. If I’d been brave, I would have decked him.”
Tara laughed. “If you’d tried, you might be dead now.”
“Actually, I don’t think I could have done it. He was so damned strong! But it’s over and I’m all right, and we’ll all be really careful until we know just what’s going on.”
Tara nodded, and shivered. “I think I’ll have another drink. Hell, maybe I’ll have that Valium. If I don’t I’ll lie awake all night. But I’m just down the hall from you. If you get scared, come down and cuddle. We’ll slumber-party it.” She stopped speaking suddenly, as if embarrassed to realize that she had just admitted she would not be sleeping with Jordan. She shrugged, eyeing Kathy with sudden suspicion. “But then, you have Jeremy, don’t you?”
The way she looked at her then made Kathy uneasy. “I’m sure I’ll curl up in a little ball all by myself tonight,” Kathy told her lightly.
Tara stood looking down at her. “Yeah. I’ll bet.” She leaned down over Kathy. “You know, when I put my mind to it, I can usually raise the damned dead.”
“And what does that mean?”
Tara smiled. “It just means... I wonder.”
“About what.”
“Your love life with Adonis.”
Kathy offered her a very deep smile. “Jeremy?”
“Mmm.”
“He’s a completely loyal man, Tara.”
“If you say so.” Tara smiled, then added more seriously, “If you get frightened, come see me, though I’m certainly no heroine!”
“Thanks,” Kathy called after her.
Tara went over to Jordan, and Kathy noted that he instinctively slipped an arm around her, even as he replied to something that Angel was saying. A knife seemed to turn in Kathy’s stomach. There was a relationship there. Deeper than she’d wanted to believe.
And Tara wasn’t really so bad.
She made a point of slipping up to bed herself as quickly as she could after Tara said good night, disengaging herself from Jordan when his concern for her had come forth all over again.
The girls followed her upstairs, hugging her, clucking over her.
“I’m all right, I swear it. This wasn’t really so big a deal, guys!”
“Right. You were almost murdered.”
“I was threatened.”
“With a knife. You might have been killed.”
“Not tonight,” Kathy murmured.
“Still...”
They were right. She was very happy to be alive. She hugged them both fiercely, forgetting her pain, and they lay together for a while, the three of them, close in body and spirit.
“Dad would have killed him,” Alex supplied.
“If he’d gotten his hands on him,” Bren added.
“If Dad had killed him, Dad would be in jail, so let’s be glad it didn’t happen, huh?”
“Dad was good though, huh?” Alex asked her. “A perfect gentleman.”
“’Cause he loves you,” Bren supplied softly.
“Oh, guys, don’t start, please!” she begged softly. “You know your dad; he’s the most protective guy in the world. It’s his nature.”
“He does love you,” Bren insisted.
“I’m your mother, a very old part of his life,” Kathy said. She hesitated. “Yes, he probably still loves me. A little, maybe. Don’t go making things out of it.”
“We won’t,” Alex said.
“Go to bed, huh?” Kathy suggested.
“Yeah, sure.” They both kissed her again, rising, and started from the room.
“I’m still sure he loves her,” Bren said, speaking to Alex again as if Kathy couldn’t possibly hear her.
“Sparks. There are absolutely sparks around them,” Alex agreed.
“If we could just get rid of Tara—”
“And Jeremy.”
“Jeremy’s no problem!” Bren reminded her sister.
“Oh, yeah. Right. Tara then.”
“Girls!” Kathy wailed.
“Good night, Mom. Call if you need anything,” Alex said. The two left, closing her door behind them.
Kathy closed her eyes. She tried to sleep. The drink hadn’t helped enough. She rose, thinking about venturing down the hall to ask Tara for a Valium, but walked to the window instead and stared out.
She could see Jordan, silhouetted in the frame of the guest house window. She was suddenly glad to know that he was alone.
Watching over her.
It was wrong. He was more involved with Tara than he cared to admit, and he assumed Kathy was cheating on a lover who trusted her implicitly. Not good, since the trust factor had been such an important issue between them. So what did it all mean?
That sex was good.
So for the next week occasionally, they’d have sex.
She almost groaned aloud. Surely, she had more will power than what she was displaying!
But she was locked into this now. They both were. They all were. Blue Heron was getting back together. And come what may, they were taking the roller-coaster ride.
Just what the hell had occurred ten years ago?
She didn’t know, but they had to find out. Maybe it wouldn’t even matter how they felt about it. Maybe the truth was going to come out one way or the other and each day was taking them inexorably closer to the past...
Jordan raised a hand to her in acknowledgment. She raised a hand in return.
After a minute, she left the window. Oddly enough, she was now able to sleep.
Despite the late hour when she’d retired, Kathy rose early. It was Sunday. She showered and donned a cool sundress, amazed that the fear she had known during the night had already largely faded.
She wanted
to go to church.
She loved the beautiful old Episcopal Cathedral just over on the mainland on the outskirts of downtown Miami. The organ was spectacular, and they sometimes had extraordinary flutists and even bagpipe players at services.
She didn’t want to behave foolishly, but neither did she want to be a prisoner. If she took the right precautions, surely no one would be looking for her in church.
When she came downstairs, things were quiet. Peggy must have been up and about because chafing dishes filled with breakfast goodies had appeared in the dining room. A large silver samovar offered coffee, and Kathy helped herself to a cup, then wandered out to the porch. She was curious when she noted that someone was already lying on one of the lounges by the pool, so she let herself out of the house through the porch door and circled around.
She cried out with delight when she saw the man stretched out in the lounge. “Dad! I mean—Gerrit!”
He was up in a matter of seconds, a tall, very straight, handsome man with thinning, snow white hair, an aging but wonderfully sculpted face, and one of the world’s best smiles. Jordan’s father had always been extraordinary. Kathy had kept up with him a bit over the years, Christmas cards and pictures, anything that concerned the girls.
“Kathy!” he exclaimed with pleasure. She thought he was going to take her hand, but he gave her a tremendous bear hug instead, from which she barely salvaged her coffee.
He pulled away from her a second later, rescuing the teetering coffee cup and setting it upon the ground, then holding both her hands and eyeing her somberly and carefully. “You look wonderful, Kathryn, absolutely wonderful. A sight for sore old eyes.”
“You look wonderful, too. And those eyes don’t look sore or old. You’re the picture of health. What have you been up to?”
“Diving in Mexico,” he told her. “I just became certified in cave diving.”
Kathy laughed. “Good for you. Was it fun?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been telling your mother all about it, trying to get her interested.”
Kathy smiled. “Mom’s living in New York, you know. The opportunities for cave diving are limited there.”
“Ah, but in the world are many opportunities.”
For All of Her Life Page 22