“It always is,” Gena remarked.
“Well, in this case, it’d be even worse. Homosexuality isn’t something you can prove, and innuendo alone can wreck a marriage. I like to think I’m a responsible enough journalist to avoid that kind of thing.”
“So where do you go from here?” Danica asked.
“I try to follow up any leads Red Robin gives me. If I’m lucky, I’ll find other witnesses, people who will corroborate Red Robin’s claim. If I wait long enough, I may come across other jilted lovers. As far as Red Robin’s allegations of policy-setting favors go, I need dates of hirings and firings, evidence of suspicious decision-making, perhaps even a third party who will state that a questionable compromise was made.”
“It’s going to be tough,” Jeffrey warned. “Capital Hill is a strange place. On the surface it’s wonderfully exciting and fun-loving. Subcutaneously, it’s a hotbed of jealousy and mistrust.”
“Good phrase, Jeff,” Michael quipped. “‘Hotbed of jealousy and mistrust’…good phrase.” He dodged the paper cup Jeff threw his way. “The question is whether you can use it in your own work. How’s it going, by the way?”
Jeffrey frowned. “Not bad. We’re getting there.”
Michael sensed that he had reached a point in the high-tech theft case where he couldn’t discuss it openly, so rather than prodding he steered the conversation along another vein. He was surprised when Jeff raised the issue himself later.
Having left the women to talk at the house, the two were walking the beach, at Jeff’s suggestion. Rusty, one of the men, was trotting along beside them.
“I think we may have a problem, Mike.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The investigation I’ve been working on. We’ve been able to trace illegal shipments of restricted goods back to several American companies. We’re waiting for more so we don’t blow the whole thing by cashing in the chips too early.”
“Sounds solid.”
“It is.” He looked clearly pained.
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Jeffrey sent him an apologetic look, which held far more meaning than Michael could appreciate at that moment. “We’ve traced one of the shipments back to Eastbridge Electronics.”
Michael stopped in his tracks. “Eastbridge?” he echoed weakly.
Jeffrey nodded. “This particular shipment was made nearly two years ago. It contained computer equipment with high-speed integrated circuits that are heavily restricted for export by our government and, needless to say, highly coveted by Moscow.”
Michael was trying to assimilate the information. He could only mutter a soft, “Shit.”
Jeffrey went on quietly. “Lindsay approved the shipment, but the main contact was one of his henchmen, a guy named Harlan Magnusson, who headed his computer division. The stuff was sold to a firm in Capetown, then went on through two dummy firms until it finally reached the Soviet Union. We have solid evidence all the way.”
“Shit!” Michael propped his hands on his hips, then altered his stance and raised a hand to the back of his neck. “Lindsay! Christ! Why would he do something like that? The guy didn’t need the money. You say the shipment was made two years ago?”
“Several months before Claveling’s election. There was only one shipment, but it’s condemning as hell.”
“At least the crime isn’t compounded. If he had let his company get something through after he was named to the Cabinet, he’d be in double trouble. How did he get a license, anyway? He didn’t have anything to do with Commerce at that point.”
“No. The license application said nothing about high-speed integrated circuits.”
“And Customs didn’t catch it on its way out?”
“They can’t catch everything. In this case, the computer housing was older and suggested a different kind of matter than what was actually inside. Operation Exodus notwithstanding, this was one that slipped through.” He sighed. “As far as Lindsay’s motive goes, your guess is as good as mine.”
Michael swore a third time and raised his eyes to the clouds. “I don’t believe it.” He met Jeffrey’s gaze. “What do you do now?”
“The Justice Department should be going before a grand jury any day. It’ll take a while—maybe a couple of weeks—before indictments are returned. Like I said, Eastbridge is only one of what may total eight or nine. We’re going after them all at the same time.”
With a moan, Michael turned toward the sea. “Poor Danica. She may not have loved the guy, but she did respect him.”
They walked on for a time in silence while Michael struggled to ingest what he’d learned. Finally Jeffrey stopped and faced him. “You stand to benefit from all this.”
“Yeah. I’d have chosen any other way, though.” He shook his head. “I still don’t believe it.”
“Well, I wanted to warn you. When things break, they won’t be pretty. Danica’s going to need support.”
“She has mine. She’s always had mine. I only wish I could spare her.”
“There’s no way you can, Mike. I only wish I wasn’t the one who headed the investigation. I really like Danica. She’s apt to hate me after all this.”
“No. She’ll understand that you’ve done what you had to do.”
“I hope so, for many reasons. Things have been really good between Cilla and me. If she’ll consider it, I want to talk remarriage.”
“Hey, Jeff, that’s great!” Michael said, meaning it even if he had to push to sound enthusiastic.
“I think so. And if you and Danica can ever get together, well, I wouldn’t want anything to come between us.”
“It won’t. I’m telling you.”
“I’ve thought it all out. There’s no way anyone can accuse her of helping me.” When Michael sent him a quizzical look, he explained. “You know the press better than anyone. I’m sure one of the scandal sheets will have a field day suggesting that Danica may be thrilled with her estranged husband’s fate.”
Michael couldn’t even begin to ponder the scandal sheets when his mind was racing. “What do you think he’ll get?”
“He could get up to twenty years, plus half a million in fines. He could also be acquitted. I don’t know the exact nature of his relationship with Magnusson. I’m sure a defense attorney can make a case for Lindsay being unknowingly conned.”
“That’s a way off. There’s so much we’ll have to get through first. Will you give me warning before things break? I don’t want to say anything to Dani now. She’ll only be upset and there’s nothing she can do.”
“Lindsay may be called to testify before the grand jury. He’s sure to have some forewarning.”
“He may not say anything to her. From what she says of the guy’s confidence, he may assume that he’ll escape indictment, in which case he won’t tell that he was even questioned. She hasn’t spoken with him since June. Will you let me know, Jeff? As a friend?”
Jeffrey put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Of course I will. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know anything definite.”
Michael let out a breath. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“I still feel like the villain.”
“Lindsay’s the villain, damn his soul. I hope he gets what he deserves!”
“That’s the ‘other man’ in you speaking. Personally, I agree with you. In the end, though, it’ll be up to the courts to decide.”
Michael kept reminding himself that it was a matter for the courts when, over the next few weeks, he found himself time and again seething inside that Blake should have betrayed Danica, not the other way around. He knew he was being unfair, that the man was innocent until proven guilty, that perhaps he had indeed been duped by his henchmen. But Michael was emotionally involved, and even without this latest twist of fate, he had enough cause to resent Blake Lindsay.
Michael’s greatest challenge was in maintaining an easygoing front for Danica. Oh, he was happy when he was working with her, eating with her, makin
g love to her. During those times he readily surrendered to her charm, letting the love they shared blot out all else. In the quiet times, though, when he would stare unseen at her across the boat, when he would hold her sleeping form in his arms in the wee hours of the night, he couldn’t help but worry, but feel the pain she was sure to experience when that fateful call from Jeffrey came.
Two weeks passed, then a third. Michael and Danica drove to Boston every Monday, then returned. He kept Jeffrey informed of how to reach them at any given time, but there was no word, and Michael was growing tense. In his mind, time was running out. He wanted to stop it, to turn it around, to give Danica and him just that little more time, but he couldn’t.
Inevitably, Danica sensed his preoccupation.
“Something’s been bothering you,” she said softly one night, coming to sit by his side in the kitchenette of their boat. She brushed the sandy hair from his brow. “I know you’re trying to hide it from me, but it won’t work. What is it, Michael?”
He looked at her, debating, debating, finally opting to preserve the happiness of the last few days they would have together on the boat. “Nothing, sweetheart. I’m just thinking how wonderful it’s been this summer. I’m not looking forward to returning this tub on Friday.”
She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “But Joe’s giving up for now. He wants to clean up the things he’s found, then get back to the Archives.” The crew hadn’t found a thing by way of gold on the bottom of the sea. True, the ship had proved to be the SS Domini, and it had yielded some very beautiful nautical artifacts, but no gold.
Michael put an arm around her shoulder and anchored her close. “Are you disappointed that we didn’t hit the jackpot?”
“But we did.” She grinned. “You and I, at least.”
Closing his eyes, he brought her fully against him. “You’re so wonderful. God, I love you.” The words had been whispered with a desperation that Danica might have caught had she not been so enthralled with their quiet force.
“I love it when you say that.” She raised her mouth and met his hungry kiss. When it ended, she drew her head back. “I’m going to see a lawyer right after Labor Day. I have the name of the best divorce attorney in Boston. I think it’s time Blake and I stopped playing games.”
“Let’s not think about that now,” Michael said. Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her again, deep and long. His tongue swept through the inside of her mouth, parrying with hers until breathlessness tore them apart. “Make love to me, Dani,” he gasped, needing to know the strength of her love because he was frightened, so frightened.
She needed no coaxing. While her lips continued to play with his, her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, releasing them all, spreading the shirt open. Then she lowered her head and moved her mouth over the firm flesh she had unclothed. She dampened his light hair with her tongue and laved his nipple until he moaned. Releasing him only long enough to lead him to the V-berth, she sat on its edge and went to work on his belt and fly. Slowly she pushed his jeans over his hips, leaning forward to kiss each new inch of skin as it was unsheathed.
By now she knew his body as well, no, more intimately, than her own. She knew what pleased him, what was sure to propel him to heights of pleasure. Using that knowledge, she pushed him back to the blanket and drove him to near fulfillment. When she felt he had reached his limit, she stood and slowly removed each piece of her own clothing.
“You’re tormenting me,” Michael accused in a rasping voice.
“No.” She sank down over his body, brushing her bare breasts against his chest. “I’m loving you, Michael, very much.”
There was no part of him she didn’t love, both in thought and act, and Michael wasn’t so disciplined that he could lie back and idly endure the ecstasy. He twisted around to love her as well, worshiping all the private spots on her body that she had saved for him.
When at last she straddled him and impaled herself, the fire they shared leaped out of control. Though Danica held the position of dominance, Michael took her again and again. They had never loved with such abandon, with such fury. Later, when their sweat-slick bodies lay languorously entwined, Michael vowed that whatever happened in the days to come, Danica would be his.
sixteen
aFTER BIDDING AN AFFECTIONATE FAREWELL TO Joe Camarillo and his crew on Friday morning, Michael and Danica turned in their boat and drove back to Kennebunkport. It was the third week in August. Since most of the local celebrities were away and the producers of her show had suggested she take two weeks off, she had decided to stay in Maine until after Labor Day, when she would return to Boston and file for a divorce from Blake.
Having given up all pretense of living apart, she and Michael had agreed that she would stay at his house. They slept late on Saturday morning, savoring the comfort of his bed after weeks on the smaller, harder V-berth. After awakening, they showered and dressed, then worked together in the kitchen, cooking brunch. They had just finished eating when the doorbell rang.
Michael eyed Danica. “Were you expecting someone?”
“Not me. It’s your house. Were you expecting someone?”
“And share you for a minute? No way.”
The bell rang again. Popping a parting kiss on her cheek, Michael headed for the door. Even before he opened it, he felt a chill. The chill became ice when he saw Cilla and Jeffrey, the latter carrying an ominous-looking folder under his arm. He looked from one to the other, seeing the strained looks on their faces.
“Hi, Mike,” Jeff, said quietly. “Can we come in?”
Danica came from behind Michael and burst into a smile. “Cilla and Jeff! Perfect timing. We just got back.”
Jeffrey looked from Michael to Danica, then back. “I know. I tried to contact you on the boat and found out you’d returned it.”
“We did. Yesterday.”
Danica was startled by Michael’s hard tone. “Michael…”
He put a protective arm around her shoulder. “What are you doing here, Jeff?” His voice was low and filled with anger. “I thought I said I’d handle it.”
“Handle what?” Danica asked, but again she was ignored.
Cilla and Jeffrey were both concentrating on Michael, with Jeff the logical spokesman. “I wanted to be here. It’s part my doing. I wanted to be the one to take the blame.”
“Michael, what’s going on?” Danica’s tone was no longer calm but had escalated to one of utter confusion.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said, holding her closer. “Cilla, couldn’t you have stopped him? All I needed was a phone call.”
“I agree with him, Mike. His argument makes sense.”
Knowing that he was outnumbered and that it was too late to remedy the situation anyway, Michael stepped back to let Cilla and Jeff come in.
“What’s this about, Michael?” Danica asked fearfully.
He was leading her to the sofa. “Let’s sit down.”
She let herself be seated, because she didn’t know what else to do. Cilla looked pale, Jeffrey pained. Michael, who was evidently more informed than she, looked more tense than she had ever seen him.
Jeffrey began very quietly, directing himself to her. “I want to tell you about the case I’ve been working on.” He outlined it briefly, then faltered when he came to the hard part. From the moment he had decided that he had to break the news to Danica himself, he had been trying to think of an easy way to say what had to be said, but there was none. “Danica, East-bridge Electronics is one of the firms we’ve traced illegal shipments to. Indictments will be returned on Monday. Your husband is going to be named on several counts.”
Danica eyed him blankly. “Excuse me?”
Michael put a light arm around her waist. “Blake is in serious trouble, Dani. It may be that he’s done nothing wrong, but Jeff—and I—felt you should be prepared.”
“For what?” she asked, still unable to assimilate what Jeffrey had told her.
“He’s going
to be charged with selling restricted items to the Soviet Union,” Jeffrey explained as gently, as calmly, as he could. He was also simplifying the charges, but he felt she didn’t need to know the details. “Once the indictments are handed down, he’ll be arraigned, then released on bail until the trial.”
Her body was completely still, save the visible thumping of her heart. “You must be wrong,” she whispered. “Blake would never do anything like that.”
“We’ve been studying this problem for a long time,” Jeffrey countered softly. “We have solid evidence. The question isn’t whether Eastbridge made the shipment, because we know it did. We have papers from several sources to prove it. Rather, the question is whether your husband knew what the shipment contained and, if so, why he approved it.”
She was shaking her head. “He wouldn’t.”
“Believe me, the Justice Department would never take on a man as prominent as your husband if it didn’t have a good cause.”
Danica turned to Michael. “There has to be some mistake,” she pleaded.
“I wish there were, sweetheart. Blake may be exonerated, but he will have to stand trial.”
For the first time in this group, Danica felt on the outside. She inched away from Michael. “You knew about this before.”
“Jeff told me last time he was up.”
“And you didn’t tell me,” she accused, needing a scapegoat for the horror she felt. When Michael tried to take her hand, she pulled it away.
“I didn’t see the point. There was nothing you could have done but be miserable.”
Jeff broke in. “Blake appeared before the grand jury more than a week ago. He didn’t see fit to tell you, either.”
But Danica was staring at Michael. “You should have told me! I had a right to know!” She jumped up from the sofa and headed for the bedroom.
He started after her, but Cilla caught his hand.
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