He padded down the stairs and looked at the front door. He could wire it closed for the night, but he’d have to replace both it and the lock in the morning. He frowned then, thinking that the police should really be called. But Bryn seemed to be in a real panic. He couldn’t blame her, not when the child was involved.
Nor could he be angry anymore about last night. She had come to him because she had been desperate.
So why the hell hadn’t she just talked to him, he wondered, pain knifing through him. Did she really dislike and distrust him so thoroughly that she couldn’t trust him, even when she was desperate?
They would, he decided grimly, get to the bottom of things, and as soon as he understood it more fully, he was determined that he would see an end to it all.
He would listen to her. But she was going to have to be made to understand that they had to do things his way. Maybe she would be ready to accept his help at last. She needed help. His help. On many levels, and she was afraid to take it on all of them.
His lips compressed as he wedged a chair beneath the doorknob and walked on into the kitchen. He hit the light switch and illuminated the spotlessly clean room. He filled the percolator with water and measured out four scoops of coffee, then added another. Then he set the pot on a burner and leaned against the counter absently as his thoughts continued to roam.
Why would someone want a bunch of publicity shots badly enough to kidnap a little boy and hold him for ransom?
There had to be something else in those pictures. Something so harmful that…
“Lee?”
He glanced across the kitchen to see Bryn standing nervously in the doorway. His shirt engulfed her, overlapping her black jeans to the knees. It seemed strange, but she looked all the more bewitchingly feminine in a man’s shirt.
A covert glance at his wristwatch told him that exactly five minutes had passed. He would have smiled if the situation had been less tense.
“Sit down.” A wave of his arm indicated the wicker stools that surrounded the kitchen’s butcher-block table. She lowered her lashes and did so. Lee felt his heart pound achingly within his chest. He wanted to rush over to her and hold her. Touch her and soothe her and convince her that it was going to be all right.
This wasn’t the time. Nor would he allow himself to reach for her again—no pressure, no bargains. She would have to come to him, and she would have to do so because she wanted to. Badly enough to cast aside all her doubts and fears.
He turned around and rummaged in the cupboard for mugs. “Start talking,” he told her flatly.
“I…”
“Don’t hedge!” he said sharply. “Talk.”
He could almost hear her grind her teeth. But she began. Sporadically, choppily, but bluntly, she told him the story. “The morning after…after I took the pictures…a man appeared at my door. He offered me five thousand dollars for them. I don’t know whether I believed him or not, but I explained that you owned all the rights to them. I kind of forgot about the incident. But then I got a threatening phone call.”
“From a man?”
“I’m not sure. The voice is always a whispered hiss.”
“Always?”
“Yes, I’ve had several calls.”
Bryn watched Lee as he poured out two cups of coffee, set them on the table and drew out the stool opposite from her. I’ll never be able to explain this with him sitting there bare-chested and staring at me, she thought, despising herself for a coward. But she was going to have to explain. The way he was looking at her, jaw firm and eyes relentless, she had no choice.
“Keep going,” he told her.
“I might get a little lost—”
“I’ll bear with you. Go on.”
Bryn tried to sip her coffee and almost scalded her lips. She set the mug back on the table and stared at it. “I’d given my film to a friend who owns a camera shop the night I shot it, and then I turned the proofs right over to Barbara, so I never had them in the house. But when I came home from work, I found all my film, file pictures and some personal photos destroyed. My darkroom was literally ripped apart—chemicals emptied, anything that could be done was done. Another phone call followed that, threatening me again.”
As Lee watched her, he saw a flush spread across her cheeks. “That’s when you decided to seduce me into giving the pictures back?”
“Yes,” Bryn admitted softly, still staring at her coffee.
“You should have just asked me; I would have given them to you.”
Her startled eyes flew to his and he smiled bitterly.
“I don’t like being taken for a fool, Bryn.”
She stared quickly back down to her cup again. “They’ve got Adam. They kidnapped him.”
“How? And when?”
She swallowed painfully and moistened her lips. “Last…last night. When I left here, I went home and found Barbara knocked out on the couch. She never knew what hit her. At first we were afraid that someone was still in the house. That’s when I discovered that Adam was gone. And—”
“You got another phone call right away?” Lee’s words were more like a flat statement than a question.
Bryn nodded. A flush rose to her cheeks again. “The voice…suggested that if I tried harder, I could…seduce you. And that if I didn’t get the pictures from you, I wouldn’t see Adam again.”
“But you decided not to seduce me, but to rob me instead,” Lee stated dryly.
“I…” Bryn paused, her words catching in her throat. He certainly wasn’t trying to make this any easier for her. “I was desperate, Lee. And I knew…what the whisperer didn’t. That…that I’d failed, and that—”
“That what?”
“Another try wasn’t going to change anything,” Bryn said softly, her eyes on her coffee cup again.
Lee was silent for a minute, not responding to her words. Then he asked, “What did Barbara have to say to all this?”
Bryn shrugged. “That I should call the police. And that…I should tell you what was going on.”
“You should have.”
She stared at him miserably. “I…couldn’t. Lee, I couldn’t take any risk whatsoever, not when the kids were threatened and then when…Adam was taken.”
“Damn it, Bryn!” he muttered impatiently. “Whatever your personal opinion of me, I can’t believe that you would think I would turn you away when a child was at stake!”
Bryn shook her head. Her lashes swept her cheeks, but rose again instantly. “The caller kept warning me not to let you know what was going on. I wasn’t afraid that you wouldn’t try to help me, but just that you would insist on calling the police or becoming involved. And I can’t risk that, Lee. I have to get Adam back!”
He was silent for a moment, and then he leaned across the table. “Do you know anyone with a dark sedan, Bryn?”
Her frown convinced him that she thought he was crazy. “No, why?”
“Because one followed you home the night after you shot the pictures.”
She stared at him, stunned.
“Someone has been in my house twice—that I know of. I thought I had caught my sneak tonight when I found you. And I don’t know how this person has been managing to break into your home so smoothly. One of the band has been watching your house every night since.”
“Then you’ve known all along that something has been going on?”
“Yes.”
Bryn finally managed to take a drink of her coffee. She wanted to phrase her next words carefully. She set the cup down and faced him squarely. She had learned belatedly that honesty was the best policy with Lee Condor.
“Lee, will you give me the proofs and negatives back and forget everything that’s happened? Please? I really believe that’s the only way I can ensure Adam’s safety.”
Lee took a sip of his coffee, his eyes on hers over the rim of his mug. “Bryn, haven’t you stopped to wonder what’s in those pictures that would make someone this determined to get hold of them?”
“No—yes
—no! I don’t care, and I don’t want to care!” Bryn swore vehemently. “All I want is to get Adam back!”
“Bryn,” Lee said quietly, “I understand that. And we’ll get Adam back. But don’t you see? The threat to you may not end there. Someone is desperate. There has to be something in those pictures that is extremely harmful to someone. And that someone is going to keep wondering if you know what it is.”
“But I don’t.”
“They don’t know that.”
“But why would they care? We’ll just give them the damn pictures—”
“Bryn, it isn’t that simple!” Lee stood impatiently. “Who’s at your house? Barbara?”
“Yes.”
“Call her. Ask her to stay the night.”
“Why?” Bryn asked uneasily.
“Because we’ve got some talking to do. And some playing.”
“Lee, I will not—”
“Jeopardize Adam. I know. Neither will I. But neither will I allow you to jeopardize yourself or those other two kids. Never mind; I’ll call Barbara. What’s your number?”
He moved to the wall phone at the end of the kitchen counter. Bryn stared at him for a minute, tempted to fall at his feet and beg him to give her the pictures and let her go.
But no matter how she humiliated herself, it wouldn’t work. She could see the steely determination in the set of his jaw. Whether she liked it or not, he was involved. He was stepping in, and he was going to force her to face all the implications.
She swallowed as a little lightning bolt of electricity seized her. She gazed at the bare bronze of his chest and broad shoulders. At the way his body narrowed at the hips and waist. He was too powerful and too competent for her to fight at this moment.
She wearily rattled off her phone number.
Barbara must have been extremely anxious; in fact, she must have prepared a heart-rending defense for Bryn. Lee had barely identified himself before Bryn heard the faint and garbled voice returning to him over the wires.
“Barbara, Barbara, hold it!” Lee laughed, and Bryn noted the attractive glitter of humor that touched his eyes and softened the ruthless severity of his features. “She’s here, she’s fine, and there’s no problem—other than the major one. But listen, I don’t think she should drive home tonight, so I’m going to have her stay here. But don’t worry, you’re not alone. Andrew is outside. Go to the porch and call him in. He’ll explain. If the phone rings, answer it and do your best, but I don’t think anyone will call tonight.”
Bryn heard the crackle of conversation from the other end again. Lee said, “All right,” and then leaned casually against the counter. “She’s calling Andrew in,” he explained to Bryn. Bryn just nodded. It suddenly seemed logical that Andrew would be standing outside her door.
“Hey there,” Lee said, and by the change of tone, Bryn knew he was talking to Andrew, “you don’t mind being inside, do you?”
Whatever Andrew replied must have been in the affirmative, because Lee laughed. “Okay. I’ll see you there—early.”
He hung up, and Bryn watched him nervously as he strode thoughtfully back to the table. “Okay, Bryn. This is it. At sunrise we’ll head back to your place and wait for the phone to ring. You’ll arrange an exchange for the pictures and Adam. It has to be a public place—near a phone. As soon as they drop Adam, you’ll drop the pictures. If you were supposed to seduce me into agreement, this person will expect me to be near you. And they’ll know that I’m in on it somehow. I’d have to be after they shot at me, right?”
“I…suppose,” Bryn murmured. Then she added hopefully, “And that will be it?”
“No, that will not be it! Who’s your friend who did the pictures?”
“His name is Kelly. His shop is Kelly’s Kodak.”
“Call him.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“But—”
“Tell him you’ll be bringing the original negatives back and having a set of prints made. That way we can return everything and still have them, but no one will see any activity in your darkroom until Adam is returned and they presumably have everything.”
Bryn rubbed her temple. He was right, and she knew it. She just didn’t want to see it. She stood up. “Lee, I’m afraid. This guy seems to know everything that I do. He specifically demanded the negatives. What if he finds out that I’ve ordered more prints?”
“He won’t. And we need them, Bryn. We have to figure this out.”
“Lee! If we bring the photos by—”
“We won’t, Bryn. Bryn! Pay attention to me. I don’t want you doing the pictures, because someone might very well be watching your house right now. But if Kelly—”
“Lee—”
“Bryn, it’s all right. You and I will not go near Kelly’s. Mick has the pictures; he’ll get them dropped off. Now this whisperer of yours might have a pretty decent spy system going, but he can’t possibly watch you and me and the rest of the world, too.”
Bryn was silent for several seconds. His thinking was rational and reasonable. He was right, she was sure. She was just so frightened.
“All right,” she said at last. “I’d better call Kelly quickly. But what do I say? When will Mick bring the pictures?”
“Tonight.”
Bryn nodded bleakly. Mick had the pictures. No matter how efficiently she had burglarized Lee’s house, she would never have gotten them that way.
Kelly moaned and groaned when she called him, but she pleaded sweetly and he promised to do his best. Lee called Mick, spoke to him briefly, and then he and Bryn found themselves staring at each other across the table again.
“We’re going to have to start thinking and remember everything that happened at that country club,” Lee told her.
Bryn lifted her hands and grimaced. “Everything was happening at the country club. Dirk Hammarfield was there, and that PGA tournament was going on. But that’s what I don’t get. What could I have gotten on film? A lot of sloping hills and velvety grass?”
“That politican is slippery.”
“Hammarfield?”
“Ummm. He was nosing around the Fulton place.”
“He wasn’t nosing around!” Bryn protested. “He says he’s a great fan of yours. And I think he’d like you to endorse him.”
“Maybe,” Lee said with a shrug. “But I think he’s slippery.”
“He’s polite.”
“Charming?” Lee mocked dryly.
“More so than some people I know,” Bryn snapped too quickly in response to his cynicism.
“I see. And golfers are far more charming than drummers, too?”
There was an edge to his voice. Bryn shivered slightly. Apparently he had seen the news the night that she was shown smiling and chatting away with Mike Winfeld.
“Yes,” Bryn said tightly. “The golfers I’ve met are far more charming than the drummers of my acquaintance.”
He didn’t reply. He stood up and stretched, picking up his cup to rinse it out in the sink. Bryn bit her lower lip miserably. Why was she still being so hostile? He had bent to her wishes as far as a man like him could possibly do. He might have called in the police….
“I’m going to rig up the front door. This whisperer of yours seems to be a fairly dangerous fellow. He shot the door right off its hinges. Then…” He paused, staring at her, and she couldn’t begin to fathom his expression. “Then I’m going to go to bed,” he told her curtly. “There are three guest rooms upstairs. Take your pick.”
“I don’t think I can sleep,” Bryn murmured.
“Then go lie down and think,” Lee advised. “About the pictures. Think of anything at all that might have been in the backgrounds.”
He rummaged beneath the sink and came up with a hammer, nails and a skein of wire. His golden gaze fell on her enigmatically; then he walked out of the kitchen.
Bryn sat at the table for a while, her emotions playing havoc within her. Where was Adam? Was he all right? She had to believe that
he was. She had to live on the hope that he would be returned to her tomorrow. She would have the pictures. She would give them back….
Thanks to Lee. She had to be grateful.
She stood up and walked out to the living room. He had one nail stuck in his mouth while he hammered another into the door. He paused as she walked up to him, a brow raised.
“Lee…thank you,” she told him.
He slipped the nail to the corner of his mouth. “Go to bed, Bryn.”
She nodded and started up the stairs, then paused. “Does it matter which room?” she asked politely.
He didn’t glance at her, but he did stop hammering for a minute. “No. They’re all set up for company.”
Bryn bit her lip as she watched. His back was bowed over his task, his powerful arms rippling and glistening with each firm whack of the hammer. Then she continued up the stairway.
She stepped through the first door she came upon and flicked on the light. As he had said, the room was ready for company. The rosewood bed set was gleaming; the teal spread and striped sheets had a clean fresh scent. Bryn found a small nightlight on the mirrored dresser, turned it on and the overhead light off. She shed her sneakers and jeans and climbed beneath the sheets.
But as she lay there, she couldn’t stop thinking about Lee. About the times she had lain in his arms. Dreamed of him. Wanted him.
He had given her everything. And demanded nothing of her.
She closed her eyes tightly and tried to shut out his image.
It could not be shut out.
She saw his features in the moonlight: the high forehead; dead straight nose; firm, square jaw; full, sensuous mouth. His eyes full of riveting golden power…
Think about the pictures, she told herself. The Timberlane Country Club. The background…
His scent had always seemed to beckon her. Subtle. Clean, and yet very male. She remembered the way the bronze of his shoulders had gleamed beneath the soft light of the moon. She remembered staring at his chest. Tight and broad, devoid of hair, sheer bronze masculine strength. She had wanted to reach out and touch him.
She’d known for a long time that she had been wrong about him. From the beginning he had meant to offer her friendship. He’d been attracted to her, yes, but he would never have pushed her.
Night Moves (60th Anniversary) Page 15