by Sandra Brown
Keely quickly came to her rescue. "That isn't the point of the hearing, Mr. Van Dorf. Whether Bill Allway or my husband or any of the MIAs is alive isn't the issue here. Our immediate goal is to see that channels to confirm or deny their deaths are kept open. And at the same time to allow their families to collect money rightfully due them."
"Do you agree with that, Mrs. Allway?" Van Doff asked.
"Yes," Betty replied, her equanimity restored.
"I'm curious to hear what the army has to say this afternoon," Parker said. "Do you have any idea what their stand will be, Mrs. Williams?"
"The last time we had a meeting with military personnel, they were supportive. I hope their attitude hasn't changed."
Walsh leaned back in his chair and said expansively, "Now, little lady, you—"
"Please don't address me as a 'little lady,' Congressman Walsh. I find it offensive," Keely said firmly.
Walsh looked momentarily nonplussed, then he grinned patronizingly. "I assure you I didn't mean—"
"Of course you did," Keely said. "Your opinion of us is all too apparent. You consider us to be a group of hysterical women wasting your valuable time. I wonder what your attitude would be if we were a group of men making an appeal. Would that give us more credibility? I assure you that there are numerous men in our organization, Congressman. Fathers, sons, brothers. They are just as concerned and resolved as we, but they find it harder to address such an emotional issue publicly. For that reason you'll find more women actively engaged in our efforts."
There was a silence around the table. Finally Congressman Parker said quietly, "I'd hate to think that anyone serving on this or any other committee would be blinded by prejudice of any kind." He glanced balefully at Walsh.
"Well, I certainly meant no offense and I wouldn't want to he accused of being chauvinistic. I apologize, Mrs. Williams," he blustered.
Keely's tone didn't soften, but she said, "Apology accepted. I'm sorry I broke your train of thought. What point were you about to make?"
And so it went. For the next half hour ideas were exchanged and discussed. All the while Van Dorf looked on with almost lascivious curiosity, his eyes darting around the table like a ricocheting bullet. His recorder didn't stop. When he was presented with the check, he scrawled his name across it and stood abruptly. "I guess it's time we all made our way back. Thank you for consenting to this luncheon. The maître d' will hail cabs for us," he said as they all stood.
"I think I'll walk a few blocks," Parker said. "Mrs. Allway, may I help you with your coat?" He matched action to words as he escorted Betty toward the door.
"Devereaux, do you want to share a cab with me?" Walsh asked.
"Thank you, but I need to stop by my office. I'll take my own."
"Then if you don't mind, I'll grab the first one."
"Not at all," Dax answered as the other congressman lumbered off.
Van Dorf, after pocketing his cartridge tapes, rushed toward a cigarette vending machine, Keely and Dax were granted a few moments of relative privacy.
"Remind me never to get your dander up," he whispered near her ear while holding her coat as she slid her arms in. "You've got sharp claws."
"That ignorant, bigoted buffoon," she said. "He's laughable. Imagine him holding a congressional seat. It's frightening."
"You were superb." His hand rested against her waist. Only to the casual observer would it appear that he was escorting her in a detached gentlemanly manner. To one more observant his touch would look like a caress.
"Why did you tell them we had met before?" she asked over her shoulder.
"For your information, Van Dorf is ruthless. He's after the next Watergate story. Be careful of him, Keely. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing."
"I likened him to a cunning fox rather than a wolf.
He led Betty and me to believe that we were his only guests for lunch. He failed to mention that you congressmen would be here. He made a self-effacing, pleading invitation, while all along he was baiting a trap."
"That creep. I'd like to cram that tape recorder of his down his throat. Or somewhere even more appropriate."
Keely couldn't stop the laugh that threatened. She turned to face him. "Remind me never to get your dander up," she taunted. He smiled, deepening the dimple. "Your fiery Creole heritage is showing."
"Is it? I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's rather attractive."
"Do you think so?"
She looked around nervously. Betty and Congressman Parker were standing by the door watching for the promised taxis. Van Dorf was cursing the vending machine that had taken his change but hadn't come forth with the cigarettes. Walsh had left.
"Why did you tell them that we had met last night?"
"That was your original question, wasn't it? You see, when I'm around you, I have a hell of a time keeping my mind off— Never mind. To answer your question, if Van Dorf or anyone like him had seen us talking together last night and then we pretended never to have met today, that would pique someone's curiosity. Telling the truth is always the best policy."
"And if someone had seen you either coming into or going out of my room last night, what then?"
His eyes twinkled with devilish humor. "Then telling a lie is always the best policy."
She laughed. "You're a politician, all right."
He wasn't offended. Indeed, he laughed. His smile softened measurably when he asked, "How are you? Did you get any rest last night?"
She wished he wouldn't look at her with such concern. His eyes touched on each feature of her face and they grew warm under his interest. Why wouldn't her heart slow down? It beat so strenuously that it stirred the lace across her chest, a fact that Dax's wandering eyes took note of. "I didn't sleep too well, no."
"I take full responsibility for that."
"You shouldn't."
"But I do," he stressed. "I shouldn't have upset you. And don't deny that I did. When you first told me at the airport that you were married, I should have left you alone. That would have been best."
"Would it?"
"Wouldn't it?"
Pulled together by some invisible, inexplicable force, they felt themselves moving closer. Dax could feel the blood rushing to his extremities. His fingertips throbbed with it, with the need to touch her. The scar under his eye twitched. Too vividly his lips recalled the feel of her mouth beneath them. His eyes bored into hers.
Reflexively she licked her lips and he followed the sensuous course of her tongue with his eyes. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "It probably would have been best."
"I've forgotten the question again."
"Keely?"
"What?" She spun around guiltily when Betty called to her from the door. "Is the cab here?" she asked on a gulping breath.
Betty eyed her flushed cheeks and agitated breast suspiciously. "Yes."
They said their goodbyes to Dax and their thankyous to Van Dorf who was demanding his lost money from the management. Congressman Parker went out with them.
When they were situated in the back seat of the drafty taxi, Keely ineffectually fumbled with the clasp of her purse. "You don't have to tell me, but I confess I'm curious," Betty said.
"About what?" Keely strove for nonchalance, but knew she wasn't fooling anyone. Especially herself.
"Come on, Keely. This morning when I asked you about Dax Devereaux, I presented you with a golden opportunity to tell me about your meeting him last night. You didn't."
"I didn't think it was important."
Betty reached out and took Keely's damp hand in her own. She held it until Keely raised her eyes and looked at the older woman. "Women are characteristically more perceptive than men. Hopefully no one else at that table noticed the undercurrents running between you and the handsome congressman every time you looked at each other, but I did. I'm not being nosy. Your personal life is none of my business, Keely. I don't presume to censure you. I'm only cautioning you to be careful. Don't do something that will open you u
p for criticism, something that could jeopardize your reputation and integrity, not to mention PROOF."
Keely shook her head emphatically. "I would never do anything that stupid, Betty. You must know that."
"I know you think you wouldn't. I may seem old and dried up to you, Keely, but I'm a woman who hasn't had her man for over fourteen years. A man with Dax Devereaux's charm could tempt a saint to fall from grace."
Keely turned her head away, her eyes staring sightlessly at the Washington Monument that pointed toward heaven like an accusing finger. "I know what you mean."
The afternoon session of the hearing was taken up by the dull, routine, monotoned recitations of an army general. He read one affidavit after another from various branches of the military. The names and ranks were impressive, but the documents shed no new light on the issue. The general straddled the proverbial fence whenever an exasperated Congressman Parker tried to pin him down to a definitive statement. He had been coached to keep his comments generic and his opinions qualified. When the gavel banged on the block, dismissing the session for the day, everyone greeted it with a collective, bored sigh of relief.
Keely lost sight of Dax as he left the chambers. She and the other members of PROOF arranged to meet at Le Lion d'Or and treat themselves to a lavish dinner.
"We deserve it after two hours of General Adams," Betty said.
They went to their separate rooms when they arrived at the Capital Hilton. Keely wasn't looking forward to the evening as she should. Even a hot shower, careful grooming, and dressing in her coral print crepe de chine dress didn't generate any enthusiasm for the hours ahead. By an act of will, when she met Betty in the lobby, she pushed her despondency aside.
The meal was sumptuous, the atmosphere serene, the service without flaw. By tacit agreement the women who joined Betty and Keely didn't talk about the hearing or speculate on its outcome. They discussed fashions, the latest Hollywood scandal, their children, hairstyles, movies, books, and diets. They laughed, knowing what Congressman Walsh's comment would be if he saw them at the expensive restaurant.
Keely contributed to the conversations, ate and drank her fair share but by the time she waved good-night at her floor of the hotel and got off the elevator, she was exhausted and ready to fall into bed.
All evening her mind had strayed to thoughts of Dax. She saw him as he had been on the airplane, solicitously clasping her hands, reassuring her. He came to her mind looking as he had last night wearing the bellman's cap and holding the tray on his shoulder, laughing and teasing. Then her mind homed in on what she most wanted to forget – his eyes, his mouth, passionate and hot and hungry, his hands.
She slammed the door behind her when she reached her room, slung her coat over a chair, and tossed her purse and room key onto the dresser. "What in the hell am I doing?" she angrily asked her image in the minor. "You're only torturing yourself, Keely."
Her limbs felt like lead appendages as she undressed. She flopped down onto the bed when she was at last washed, creamed, and brushed. Reaching for the alarm, she cursed under her breath when the telephone rang.
"Hello." Would it be Dax?
"Hi! Whatcha doin'?"
"Nicole! Hi." She ignored a pang of disappointment and put it down as indigestion.
"You sound tired," Nicole said.
"Do I? It's no wonder. I … uh … I didn't sleep well last night and today was hell. That congressional chamber seems to have walls that close in the longer you're there. What's happening at home? Everything all right?"
"Fine. Charles roped me into having dinner with two sponsors tonight. You should have seen their wives. Charter members of the Blue Hair and Mink Club of Suburban America. D-o-w-d-y! And Charles was his typical pain-in-the-posterior self."
Charles Hepburn was one of the television station's most successful salesmen. He sold more commercial time to more local clients than all the other salesmen together. His quiet, efficient manner attracted potential sponsors even before they enjoyed his thorough personal handling of their accounts.
"Nicole, you're not fooling me. You adore him."
She sighed theatrically. "I guess he's okay. If there's absolutely no one else around and absolutely nothing else to do."
Keely laughed in spite of her dour mood. Nicole had the gift of cheering up even the most dismal of days, for she never let herself get depressed.
"Hey, the newspapers here are full of Dax Devereaux being on that subcommittee. I didn't know that, did you?"
"Not until I got here, no."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Oh, hell, Keely. Are you going to make me drag it out of you? Have you met him?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"And what?"
Nicole's expletive made Keely cringe. "You're going to melt the cables if you don't stop talking like that over the telephone."
"Don't be coy with me," Nicole said crossly. "What do you think of Devereaux?"
"I don't know much about him. I've barely met him, Nicole."
"Oh, for sweet Pete's sake! You know he's the most gorgeous hunk of male flesh that's been available in a long time. If you've laid eyes on him at all you know that. And it's more than eyes I'd like to lay on him."
"Nicole!" Keely cried. "When did you meet him?"
"I haven't – not really. He was at a party last summer, and while I didn't actually meet him, I certainly knew he was there. He squires that Robins broad around. You know, the one who married that nice old man who conveniently croaked about six months after the nuptials and left her all that glorious money, the house in the Garden District, the cotton plantation in Mississippi, and the fleet of ships."
Keely's throat constricted. Dax and Madeline Robins? Had she known that? She was surprised to realize how much it hurt to visualize Dax with the flamboyant and merry widow who was touted for her beauty.
"Are you still there?" Nicole demanded when Keely failed to respond.
"Y-yes. I'm just tired, Nicole. Thank you for calling, but I really need to get to sleep."
"Kid, are you all right? You sound funny. Is everything there okay?" Nicole had dropped her cheerful bantering and Keely knew the concern in her friend's voice was genuine.
"Yes," she sighed. "It's just, well, you know, Nicole. I don't want to upset you by talking about PROOF."
"Oh, that. Well, that's why you're there, isn't it? And you know how I feel about it, so I won't belabor my point."
"Thanks."
"It wouldn't hurt if you had a wild fling while you were there though. Go to a triple-X-rated movie and sit next to a real pervert. Or have a hot and heavy affair with a visiting despot from some wonderfully decadent country."
"Goodbye," Keely called in a high singsong voice.
Nicole laughed. "Party pooper. Bye."
Without another word Nicole hung up. Keely was smiling when she replaced the receiver. She never remembered laying her head on the pillow and closing her eyes.
* * *
When the telephone rang again, she didn't realize at first that several hours had passed. Groping in the dark for the instrument, she finally found it, but missed her ear twice before fitting the receiver to it. "Hello."
"Good morning."
Her eyes sprang open. What a delightful way to be awakened – with a man's voice. This man's voice.
"Is it morning?" she asked. Her words were muffled by the pillow.
"Did I wake you up?"
"No." She yawned. "I had to get up to answer the phone."
"Very funny."
"No, it wasn't. It's too early for humor. What time is it?"
"Seven."
She rolled over and confirmed the time by the digital clock on the bedside table. "Oh, my God," she groaned. "I've overslept."
"What's the harm? The hearing's not till ten. You've got plenty of time."
"I know. It's just that I'm used to getting up early for my job. I feel self-indulgent when I sleep late."
"What time do
you usually get up?"
"Five."
"Ugh! Why?"
"Because we're in the helicopter by six thirty. Rush-hour traffic, remember?"
"I only called because I didn't get to say goodbye yesterday afternoon. I had mounds of paperwork to do in my office, and I knew I couldn't see you alone anyway."
"I went to dinner with the other ladies last night." Whom had he had dinner with? "I was exhausted when I came in. I was history once I got into bed."
"You needed the rest. You'll have another long day today."
"Yes."
There ensued a silence rife with so many things left unsaid. Unspoken words hung between them, dancing along the line that connected them, begging to be uttered. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." Dax said at last. It wasn't at all what he wanted to say.
"Yes." Was that the best her brain could do? She was repeating herself like a parrot.
"Goodbye." A low sigh.
"Goodbye." A low sigh echoed.
"Keely?"
"Yes."
"While you're sitting behind that table all prim and proper today, know that at least one man in the room is wishing he could be holding you."
The line went dead in her hand.
* * *
Chapter 5
«^»
For another day and a half the hearing droned on. PROOF found an ally in a POW who had returned home when the prisoners were released. In a poignant speech he related how he and the other prisoners of war never gave up hope and faith in their country. Even when they were subjected to the vilest indignities, he told his rapt audience, he and the men imprisoned with him never even considered that they would be abandoned and forgotten.
Keely and the other PROOF delegates celebrated this small victory, but their jubilation was short-lived. A representative of the Treasury Department testified to the amount of money it cost the taxpayers to pay the salaries of these men yet unaccounted for and possibly long since dead. Congressman Walsh and a few of the others nodded sagely as they listened to the financial report. Keely wished Walsh's fat stomach would suddenly start paining him in proportion to its size.