“Come on.”
“No, Jeff. Think about it for a minute. Don’t you feel the same?”
“I never said that.”
“No, but it has come across subtly at times. You feel women lack that certain…professionalism to be on top.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“But aren’t they true? Think back to when we were married. Wasn’t so much of the hesitation you had about confiding in me due to the fact that I’m a woman.”
“You’re a newspaperwoman.”
“But if I was a newspaperman, wouldn’t it have been different?”
“Sure. I wouldn’t have been married to you.”
“You’re skirting the issue.”
He lifted his glass and took a drink, thinking that Cilla was right on the money. “Okay. Okay. It is possible that your gender had something to do with it. But I’m trying to change. It’s been six years since the divorce, and in that time women have popped up in some pretty responsible positions. I’d have to be blind not to see it, dumb not to try to accept it. But attitudes don’t change overnight. I grew up in a male-dominated household. It may have been wrong, but that’s the way it was. When I was in college, women were still looking first and foremost for that M.R.S. degree.”
“That’s because they were told that was where they’d have the best chance of advancement. It doesn’t mean that they weren’t intelligent or responsible.”
“I know,” Jeffrey stated quietly. “I know.”
He opened his menu and studied it. Cilla followed suit. When each had made a choice, the menus were closed and set back on the table.
“What are you having?” Jeffrey asked.
“Lemon veal. It was good last time. How about you?”
“Steak.”
She nodded, observing that he had chosen the most macho offering. She wondered what he would say next, whether he planned to share his work with her tonight.
Jeffrey took another drink and pressed his moistened lips together. He had no intention of saying something if she didn’t. If she wanted to be the liberated woman, he vowed, she could take the first step.
Cilla stared at Jeffrey, seeing that same closed expression he had worn so often during their marriage. It was unfortunate. For both of them, their work was nine-tenths of their lives. When they couldn’t share that, there was little left. But if he was disinclined to discuss things of substance, why should she?
Jeffrey stared at Cilla, willing her to open up. She was stubborn sometimes. Wonderfully so. Maddeningly so. He supposed he was no different, but, damn it, she should be more flexible. They were at an impasse again, sharing nothing but the same silence that had plagued their married life. He wanted more, though. He had already told her that. He wanted another try. There was so much to love in Cilla. Maybe if he bent a little…
Cilla began to waver when she realized what was happening. The same rut. The same brick wall. Neither of them giving in, therefore neither of them benefiting. One of them had to take the first step. One of them had to make a show of faith.
She opened her mouth and took a breath at the very same instant he did. They both smiled. He dipped his head in deference. “Ladies before gentlemen,” he said, then rushed on when she scowled. “Okay, I’ll tell you mine first, if you’d rather.”
Determined not to appear the weaker, she held up a hand. “No, no. I’ll go first.” She set her chin. “I heard from him again, the power-and-lust guy.”
Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “Good deal!”
“Uh-huh. He called two days ago.”
“What did he say?”
She hesitated for only as long as it took to remind herself that Jeffrey was interested, not prying. “It wasn’t what he said so much as how he said it. He wasn’t mumbling, and his speech wasn’t slurred. He sounded sober as a stone and very angry.”
Jeffrey reworded his question to sound less pointed. “He was coherent in what he said then?”
“Very. He said that he knew I was a responsible reporter and that he was sure I’d be interested in his story. Front page material, he said.”
“That’s all?”
She shook her head. “He said that there were compromises being made in high places. That sexual favors were being traded among some very powerful factions.”
“So what else is new?”
“That’s what I said, only not in so many words. But when I tried to push him for details, he got nervous. When I suggested we meet somewhere to talk, he didn’t respond. Unfortunately, I let my eagerness get the best of me and I asked for his name. I told him that his call lacked credibility if he wouldn’t identify himself.”
“What did he say to that?”
She sighed. “He hung up.”
“Oh. Y’ know, Cilla, it really isn’t a new story. Everyone’s heard of Elizabeth Ray. Wheeling and dealing with sex isn’t unusual.”
“No.” She grew defensive. “But what if we’re talking about a spy plot? What if there is real compromising going on? You know, secrets being passed around that threaten this country’s security?”
He arched a brow. “Did this fellow give you any hint that that was what was happening?”
“No, but he didn’t say it wasn’t. I’m telling you, Jeff, I feel something. Call it instinct or intuition, but there’s something behind this. You’re right, everyone does know of the Elizabeth Rays of the world, and I’m sure this fellow must too, but he still felt that what he had to offer was front page copy.”
“He may just be a crackpot.”
Cilla knew Jeff was playing devil’s advocate, and she wasn’t offended. He was saying nothing more than her editor had said. Of course, she didn’t agree. “That’s possible. But I do have this feeling. More than that, I still think the voice was the same as that of the man I spoke with at that reception a while back. I’ve been poring through stacks of file photos, trying to recognize a face, trying to think about who might have been at that reception.”
“Did you call the embassy where it was held?”
“The attaché I spoke with wasn’t much help. He had the list of official guests, but he wasn’t eager to hand it out, and even then he said that each of the invited guests had been given several passes, so the possibilities were much broader. I explained that I desperately needed to locate a man I’d seen there, but the attacheé wasn’t terribly sympathetic. I think he thought I was on the make, trying to track down a gorgeous, nameless, would-be lover.”
Jeffrey grinned. “I think I’d think that, too, if I’d gotten a call from you like that. You have a damned sexy voice, Cilla.”
She was feeling light-headed and strong now that she had taken the first step in communicating with Jeff. “I think you have a one-track mind.”
“Not really. I can appreciate your sexy voice even while I’m thinking about your call and my lead.”
“Your lead?” she asked. “In the Maris case?” When he shook his head and put on a smug grin, she sat straighter. “Okay. Your turn. What lead?”
“Remember I told you about the high-tech theft that’s been going on?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I think we’re finally onto something. A shipment of sensitive microchips—a restricted commodity—was stopped at the Swedish border before it made it into the Soviet Union. We’ve traced it through several mediating companies to one in South Africa that actually exists.”
“No dummy storefront this time?”
“Nope. That’s what’s so promising. We have a team in Capetown working on it now. It may take a while because our guys are working undercover, but we suspect that this particular company may be the source for a whole batch of similar shipments.”
“And you want it all.”
“You bet. It’s possible that only one American company has been repeatedly involved, though I can’t believe any one company would be so stupid. More likely, the South African firm has multiple contacts here—scientists, business people, diplomats, students—ea
ch of whom has a shopping list of what the East wants. It’s mind-boggling when you think of it.”
“Frightening.”
“Very. The problem is that if we rush and close in on the South African firm based simply on the one shipment we stopped, the contacts will only sell to someone else. Money talks, and there’s a whole load of money in illegal export.”
“So the motives aren’t political?”
“In some cases they are. In many, they’re financial. A true patriot wouldn’t be tempted regardless of the amount of money offered, but we’re not dealing with true patriots here.”
Cilla nodded her agreement. “It’s disgusting when you think of it. There are so many legitimate ways to earn a living. I was talking with a fellow last week who used to be one of the biggest bookies around. He earned a bundle, then one day wiped his hands clean and got out. He’s in real estate development now, and while I detest what he did, and the fact that he founded his business on dirty money, I have to respect him more than someone who would knowingly jeopardize the country’s security. Bookmaking may be illegal, but at least its victims are willing ones. In the case of something like what you’re talking about, all of us stand to lose.”
Jeffrey sighed. “Well, that’s what I’m hoping to prevent, at least to prevent from happening again. I wish Commerce was on top of this, but, damn it, I’m not sure it is. Lindsay may be effective, but his interests clearly lie with big business.”
“That might explain it, then,” Cilla observed wryly.
“Explain what?”
“The fact that he seems so narrow. I’ve been watching the guy, and he’s always straight and proper. I don’t think there’s a flexible bone in his body, much less a warm or sensitive one.”
“There has to be. He’s married, and to a stunner, I’m told.”
Cilla eyed him cautiously. She started to speak, stopped, then forced herself on. “You don’t know anything about her?”
“Only that I hear she’s beautiful and that she’s Bill Marshall’s daughter.”
“Nothing else?”
It was Jeffrey’s turn to grow cautious. “You know something that I don’t.”
“When was the last time you saw Mike?”
“Your brother? Last summer.”
“But you’ve spoken to him since.”
“A couple of times.”
“And he didn’t say anything about the woman he was seeing?”
Jeffrey frowned. “Come to think of it, I’ve asked him several times if there was anything new in the legs department and he deftly avoided the issue each time. Is there someone?”
Cilla wondered if she had put her foot in her mouth. But she really did trust Jeffrey. And she knew that Jeffrey trusted Michael and vice versa. “Maybe he was trying to protect her,” she murmured.
“Protect who?”
Cilla puffed out her cheeks, then let the air seep through her lips. “He’s in love, Jeff. My brother Michael is very thoroughly and sadly in love.”
“Why ‘sadly’?”
“Because the woman he loves is Danica Lindsay.”
“The wife? You have to be kidding!”
She was shaking her head. “I wish I was. Not that Danica isn’t every bit as wonderful as he thinks. I Danica isn’t every bit as wonderful as he thinks. I spent some time with her at Mike’s place last summer. She’s a fantastic person, just perfect for him.”
“But she is married.”
“Umm-hmmmmm, though not happily, from what Michael says. That’s why I’ve been watching the husband. He seems totally, and I mean totally, devoted to his job. I keep trying to figure out if there’s another woman, but he seems removed from anything like that. Unless he’s being very sly about it.”
“I’d think he would, given his position. Geez, Mike’s in love with his wife? That takes a little getting used to. I never thought of Mike as the type to go for a married woman.”
“Because of Dad, you mean.”
“And because he’s so straitlaced. Hell, when we were in college, he wouldn’t even look at another guy’s girl.”
“Jeffrey…”
“Okay, so he’d look. We’d both look. But if I liked what I saw, I’d go up and talk with her. Mike wouldn’t.”
“Well, I think this situation is a little different. He fell for her before he knew she was married. She loves him, too.”
“Jeeeeez. Will she divorce Lindsay?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Blake Lindsay was a successful businessman before he came down here. He supports Danica in the style to which she’s accustomed, and he happens to be in good with her father.”
Jeffrey’s thoughts were running further. “Lindsay was in microelectronics, wasn’t he?”
“Mmmm. I’d think you’d want to talk with him about your own work.”
“Ve-ry carefully. Commerce and Defense have had their differences. But if I could strike up a casual conversation with the man in some nonofficial context, maybe I could pick up something.”
“For Michael or you?”
“Both,” Jeffrey mused, liking the idea more and more. Then he grinned. “I’d also like to meet this woman. She must be something to have snagged Mike.”
Cilla returned his grin. “I can arrange a meeting once summer comes. That’s when she spends most of her time in Maine. Her house just happens to be down the beach from Michael’s. Of course, you’d have to drive up with me for several days.”
Jeffrey found he liked that idea nearly as much as the idea of slyly seeking Blake Lindsay out. But while he left the former for Cilla to arrange, he was on his own regarding the latter. For several weeks he looked for an opening, then finally found it when one of his superiors mentioned in passing that the Secretaries of Agriculture, Transportation and Commerce were going to be at a large dinner party and that it wouldn’t hurt to have a representative from Defense present. Jeffrey promptly volunteered.
There were nearly three hundred people at the party, which was held on the lawn of a sprawling home in Virginia, but Jeffrey had no trouble locating the face he sought.
“Handsome bugger, isn’t he?”
Cilla, who had come along for the ride partly because Jeff had invited her and partly because she was dying with curiosity to see what he would learn, nodded. “He does stand out in a crowd. Dark hair, classic features, a smile that dazzles, a tuxedo that—”
“I get the point, Cilla. You don’t have to rub it in.”
Her arm was already through his elbow, partly because she was having through his elbow, partly because she was having trouble standing on the lawn in high heels, but she held it tighter. “I didn’t say I preferred his looks to yours. There’s something untouchable about him. I like to touch.”
Jeffrey grinned down at her. “So I’ve noticed. By the way, you look gorgeous.”
She was wearing a strapless gown whose hem was ragged by design and vaguely wanton. “I was going to wear red, but pale pink seemed more sedate.”
“Sedate?” he echoed hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “Okay. If you say so.” He couldn’t take his eyes from a taunting hint of cleavage.
Cilla leaned even closer, putting her mouth to his ear. “Do you remember that time we were at the Dittrichs’, when we slipped into the gardener’s shed and—”
“Christ, Cilla,” he cut her off. “What are you trying to do to me? I have a mission here, or have you forgotten?”
“Not me. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t.”
“I hadn’t.” I hadn’t.” He cleared his throat again and looked across the lawn. “Come on. Let’s ease over this way.” He saw Blake Lindsay in the distance; that was where he headed. Then, abruptly, he halted.
“What’s wrong?”
“Damn it,” he swore through his teeth.
“What is it, Jeff?”
“You. My God, I must be out of it. Either that or you’ve well and truly got me wrapped around your little finger.”
Cilla screwed up her face. “What
are you talking about? I haven’t done a thing.”
He patted the slender hand that clutched his arm. “No, hon. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who should have realized.” He lowered his voice even more. “It wasn’t very bright, my bringing you here.”
“Why ever not? Nearly all the men have dates.”
“That’s not the point. In my own mind I think of you as Cilla Winston. But you’re not, are you? You’re Cilla Buchanan. All we need is for Lindsay to hear that name, and if he knows anything about what his wife is doing, he’ll be suspicious.”
Cilla looked stricken. “I hadn’t thought of that. Damn it, I should have.”
“We both should have. But look, there’s nothing we can do now except steer clear of each other for a while. There may be one or two people here who know we’ve been married, but if we put a little distance between us, others may not make the connection.”
“Much as I hate the thought, I think you’re right.”
“Good girl.” He gave her bottom a light pat, then moved off, confident that Cilla could fend for herself. She was a strong woman, he mused, and while there were times when he wished she was a bit less so, at the moment he was grateful.
He continued on at an ambling pace, stopping from time to time to acknowledge a familiar face, but maintaining a steady direction. Luck was on his side. The man with Lindsay was someone he knew, giving him the perfect excuse to approach.
“Thomas, how are you?”
Thomas Fenton turned his head, then grinned. “Jeff Winston!” He offered one hand and slapped Jeffrey’s shoulder with the other. “Good to see you. Where have you been?”
“Not playing tennis, unfortunately.” The two men were members of the same tennis club. Occasionally, when they found themselves without other partners, they played each other. “Gotta get back to it.” He patted his stomach. “Everything’s going to pot.” He cast a glance at Blake, prompting Thomas to make the introductions.
“Blake, this is Jeff Winston. A good man. Mean serve. Jeff, Secretary Lindsay.”
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