“When I clipped that article about you out of the newspaper,” Fox said, “I knew I would find a way to get to you. I took it out and looked at it every day I was in stir. I never guessed how easy it would be to track you down and win your trust. Then, when you fell in love with me, I was positive I could take care of both Lord and you in one neat plan.”
“Your plan isn’t so neat anymore.”
“That’s why I have to tidy things up.”
“The way you did with the photographs?” she asked.
“That was pretty clever of me, I have to admit. I knew you couldn’t go flashing those pictures around or Martha would recognize me. You made things easy by leaving the camera where you dropped it until the next day. I switched the film before you went back for it. Worked right into my master plan. Now everyone will think you committed suicide because you had a breakdown. They’ll be convinced you killed Kenneth Lord.”
Suicide. How close she’d come the day she stumbled over the real Kenneth Lord’s body. But if she’d survived that episode, she would survive this, Sydney vowed. She needed to keep him talking until she could figure out how.
“Did you plan Kenneth’s murder alone or was Martha the brains behind the operation?”
Fox laughed. “That twit? She doesn’t know anything. Even if she does have suspicions, she’ll keep her mouth shut. She’s as gullible as you were – she thinks I love her and can’t wait to marry me. No, this brilliant plan is mine.”
So neither Martha nor anyone else had been involved in Kenneth’s death, after all. “What are you planning on doing to me?” she asked, even knowing he was taking her to the cliff, the site of his “accident.”
“Since you wouldn’t break and throw yourself off as I had hoped, and since you didn’t stay put in the fire, I’ll have to give you some help. Your body will probably wash up on the beach with the morning’s tide. I haven’t figured out what I’ll do with DeMartino’s body.”
Benno? Sydney felt as if she’d been struck. “You can’t kill him.”
“Watch me.” He laughed. “Oops – I almost forgot you won’t be able to.”
“But Benno didn’t do anything to you.” She was getting panicky now that reality was setting in. Not only was she in mortal danger, but so was the man she loved. “You have no score to settle with him.”
“He got in my way.”
They’d cleared the trees and were approaching the area where she’d stood to take pictures of her “new husband.” The wind whipped at them, pushed them forward.
Trying to think of a way to escape his plan, she stalled by asking, “How did you fake your death?”
“There’s a ledge just below where I ‘slipped.’ I had enough time to duck behind an overhang, so you couldn’t even see me from the water. A risky performance, I admit, but well worth the reward.”
Hoping to catch Fox off guard, Sydney purposely stumbled over one of the fissures in the rock. Though she went down to her knees, Fox continued on, dragging her. Desperate, she started screaming.
“Help! Anyone! Murderer!”
“Shut up.”
Stopping long enough to pull her to her feet, he tried to cover her mouth with his gun hand. Sydney bit down and elbowed him. He lost his grip both on her and on the weapon. The gun went skittering off into the dark.
She made her break back the way they came, her chest heaving with the effort as she went against the wind. The smoke had wreaked havoc with her lungs and the effort was draining her strength. Fox followed and, in two seconds, had her by the arm. The cough started again and she gave up for the moment. At least he hadn’t gone after the gun. Now he wouldn’t be able to find the weapon while still keeping hold of her.
“We can do this easy or rough,” he said, jerking her around. “You choose.”
Gasping for air, she said, “I’ll take rough.”
Sydney struggled, kicking and pummeling him with the little strength she had left, but she lost her footing for real this time. She went down hard. Rather than righting her, Fox merely grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her toward the precipice. Her skirt rode up to her thighs and her free leg took a beating against the stone. Ignoring the pain, she tried kicking Fox with her loose foot, but he was ready for the attempted strike and danced out of her way.
They were getting close to the edge of the cliff.
Too close.
Sydney changed tactics. She clawed at the ground, trying to find a hold. Her fingers scraped raw across the rocky surface. Winded, she tried to catch her breath. Finally, with a burst of strength that could only come from adrenaline manufactured by desperation, she reached out and caught hold of a boulder with both arms. She brought Fox to a sudden halt that jarred her bones and made her teeth clack together.
“Son-of-a–”
”Get away from her!” came a nearby shout.
Benno. Moonlight haloed her dark knight who came charging after them. He was all right then. And Fox no longer had the gun. Benno wouldn’t die, after all. Maybe they would both come out of this alive.
Fox grabbed a handful of Sydney’s hair and jerked hard, making her let go of the rock. “Come closer and I’ll kill her,” he warned Benno.
She found the voice to shout, “He doesn’t have the gun any more and he intends to kill me anyway.”
“A gun wouldn’t stop me,” Benno said, still coming.
As he drew closer and she could see him better, Sydney realized he wasn’t in the best of shape. He was holding his bad arm stiffly and he looked drawn as if he were in a great deal of pain. She could tell Fox was uncertain as to what to do, but she doubted he would run and forfeit his entire scheme.
She felt like a puppet as, still holding on to her hair, Fox whipped her forward in Benno’s path. She crashed into him whileFox scrambled and tried to find the gun.
“You all right?” Benno asked.
“Yes.”
Like a shot, he took off after Fox who was bending over, arm outstretched. Fear gripped Sydney for a moment, but Benno got to Fox before Fox could pick up the gun. He kicked the murderer square in the stomach. Bent over, Fox rushed him and knocked Benno off balance so he stumbled closer toward the edge of the cliff.
Sydney realized Benno was still dazed and vulnerable. In his condition, he was no match for the other man. She had to get to him, to help him before it was too late. She couldn’t lose him now, for God’s sake.
She rushed forward, but Benno yelled, “Stay out of the way!”
Though she did as he ordered, she looked around for a makeshift weapon while the two men traded punches. Benno held his own until Fox rushed him again and with both fists closed hit him in the wounded arm. Benno whirled away from him, closer to the cliff’s edge. No weapon.
This was all her fault.
Desperate, Sydney acted on instinct. She grabbed the Tarot deck in her pocket.
Sliding it out, she shrieked, “Fox!” as she threw the pouch.
The deck caught him square in the chest, startling him. The cards flew up out of the opening and the wind tossed them in every direction. Sydney’s ploy worked. He hesitated long enough for Benno to get in one more punch, making Fox take a step backward.
His face a mask of surpise, Fox did a macabre dance and lost his balance. His feet went out from under him.
“Help me!” he yelled as his lower body shot over the side. He threw his chest forward and tried to grasp the smooth rock. He began to slide backward.
Without thinking, Sydney ran toward him and grabbed his wrist, unwilling to let another human die, not even one as rotten as he. Her mistake. In the blink of an eye, his fingers curled around her wrist.
“No!” Sydney cried, even as she fought for release. “Let go!”
But she was no match for a madman – her body shot forward.
The only thing that saved her was Benno grabbing onto her long skirts. Her view was dizzying. She could see the breakers crash against rock wall and spew a shattered curtain of water up at them.
&
nbsp; “If I go, you go!” Fox yelled.
With his greater weight dragging at her, she could do nothing to save herself.
“Like hell,” Benno growled. Pinning her skirt to the ground with his knee, he got down beside her and anchored an arm around her waist. “Pull yourself up, Fox. You aren’t taking anyone else with you.”
Their position was precarious. Sydney knew they could all go over. Fox made a futile attempt to raise himself, but his exhaustion was apparent as his grip began to slip.
“Try harder,” she urged, even as his fingers slid over hers.
“No-o-o!”
Fox was falling, no ledge to save him this time. His body bounced off the cliff face and like a broken rag doll flew into the mouth of a giant wave. Before it could toss him back to batter him against the cliff, she buried her head in Benno’s chest. He pulled her close and held her for a moment.
“Could anyone survive a fall like that?” she asked, deep shudders wracking her body.
“No.”
Closing her eyes, she fought tears. For a short while, she’d cared for this man, this villain, no matter how mistakenly. She would never forget that, or him. His death would remain imprinted in her mind always.
“Let’s get out of here.”
As Benno helped her to her feet, Sydney noticed a single Tarot card lay wedged in a crack near the edge. The others had undoubtedly been sucked up by the ocean just as Fox had. Sydney picked up the card and a chill swept through her as she stared at the picture: a woman holding a sword in one hand, scales in the other.
How could she not recognize Justice when she saw it?
THE LAST FIRETRUCK pulled away from the shell of a once-beautiful house. Martha leaned against the police car, sobbing and stroking the leather jacket that had belonged to Al Fox.
“I don’t believe it,” Martha cried as Brickman called in his report. “He killed my brother and made love to me as if I were the only woman in the world.” Her eyes met Sydney’s for a second, then flicked away.
Brickman had told them that Fox had a checkered criminal record. His specialty had been duping wealthy women, and until a few months ago, his home had been a prison in Washington state.
“I think my car is an insurance statistic,” Sydney said, shaking her head. Flaming timbers had fallen on it, denting the hood and roof, setting fire to the upholstery. “You’re lucky your Thunderbird’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t have cared, as long as you were all right.”
Their eyes met and Sydney realized how much she loved Benno. Before she could tell him, Brickman approached them.
“I’m heading back to town.” The lawman looked at Sydney, his expression devoid of his usual belligerence. “Where will I find you tomorrow?”
“My place,” Benno said. “Right?”
“His place,” Sydney agreed.
Brickman nodded and returned to his vehicle. He helped Martha into the passenger seat where she sat as if she were in shock. He started the engine and backed down the drive.
“I actually feel sorry for her,” Sydney said, following Benno to the Thunderbird. “She really loved him.”
“What about you?” he asked tersely.
“I thought I did, but I was mistaken.” She sensed he was waiting for more. “I wasn’t mistaken about you, though. I love you and want to be with you.”
Benno stopped and stared down at her intently. “With me? What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I don’t want to rush into anything this time.”
“Why? Because of my past.”
Sydney glanced out over the property toward the cliff. It would be tough staying in Stone Beach with that constant reminder of her foolishness and of the terror she’d been through always in sight. But being with the man she loved would help her forget.
“I don’t care about your past, Benno. I care about the human being you are now. I told you that before. I just want to take things slow,” she explained, “make sure we both know how we feel.” She tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere. “So, if I’m going to stay a while, I need a job. You could hire me to read Tarot cards at Benno’s Place.”
“You’re kidding, right?” When she shook her head, Benno said, “You can’t really have so much faith in those things.”
“I don’t live by them, if that’s what you mean. I think of them as a kind of tool to help people feel good. I need something to make me feel better... maybe I’ve relied on them too heavily recently,” she admitted. “But things are clearer now. I know I have to trust in myself.”
“And in your psychic powers?”
“I hope they won’t get in the way. I want to be like other people, Benno. I always have. I don’t want to feel different or be afraid anymore.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “With you, I think I can handle anything.”
“I want that inner peace for you, Sydney.” He frowned. “But what about your advertising career? I can’t ask you to give that up.”
“I never meant to go back to it. I was looking for peace and quiet, a change of lifestyle.”
“Instead, you found Al Fox.”
“And then I found you. Give us some time to know each other better,” she pleaded, running her hand up to his beard-stubbled cheek and under a loose strand of hair at his temple. “We might decide we have a future together... if that’s good enough for you.”
“Enough?” Benno pulled her to his chest and wound his arms around her. “That’s better than I hoped for. I thought you would leave town and never look back. I love you, Sydney Raferty, and I don’t ever intend to let you go.”
Sydney gave him a brilliant smile as he bent to kiss her. Not every woman had her own dark knight.
EPILOGUE
THE ROOM FELT small and dank, the tension-riddled atmosphere cloying. King Crawley bunched up the newspaper Lester Freidman had given him and slammed it on the table. The walls of his prison had never seemed so confining.
“Damn. If I could get out, I’d do the job right. I should have known Fox was too good to be true.”
His fellow convict had been a man not only ready, but eager to do his dirty work.
Freidman paled and kept his voice low. “What do we do now? Are you going to find another way to get to the woman.”
Glancing toward the guard at the door who was paid well to ignore his business, Crawley shook his head. “I’m done with her.”
“That’s it, then?”
Crawley thought Freidman looked relieved. Must be getting soft without the right man on his tail. Crawley wondered how badly his organization was crumbling. He couldn’t do everything from a prison cell.
“Don’t be stupid,” he finally told the erstwhile accountant. “Dakota Raferty is gonna be our next target.”
Read a preview of Book 2 in Quid Pro Quo: SQUARING ACCOUNTS
Quid Pro Quo:
SQUARING ACCOUNTS
Patricia Rosemoor
PROLOGUE
"MOMMY, CAN WE SEE the mountains with the telescope?” Nora Bright Webster asked as she peered out at them from the Space Needle observation deck.
Glancing at snow-capped Mount Rainier in the southeast, Honor tugged one of her four-year-old's copper braids. “Sure we can, Peaches.”
The brilliance of Nora's smile was contagious. “Yea! I like the mountains.” Green eyes too large for her small face sparkled; peaches-and-cream cheeks lightly sprinkled with freckles glowed. “We don't never have to go back to California or those other places, do we?”
Taking her gaze from the tiny miniature of herself, Honor opened her purple leather clutch, meaning to get coins for the pay telescope. “Not for a long time, anyway.”
A small child needed stability and another year or two would probably seem like forever to her. Though they'd been in Seattle for eleven months, Nora still had to be reassured that her latest home and her newest friends wouldn't be snatched away from her as they had been so frequently in the past.
Honor was digging for her coin p
urse when she was jostled from behind. The clutch tumbled from her hands, spilling its contents over the observation deck floor. With a sound of exasperation, she slid her slim lilac skirt high enough to allow her to stoop. Gathering the dozen or so loose items, she scooped them back into her purse. She only had her back to her daughter for a few seconds, but when she rose and turned, Nora was gone, no doubt having wandered off into the crowd.
“Nora, honey, where are you?”
Frowning, Honor stepped toward the core of the observation tower and searched the throng of tourists – some waiting to leave, others milling about. No copper-headed little girl. Then the doors of the elevator slid open. Even more people surged out of the car, driving her back.
“Nora,” she called again.
As she looked around in vain, her concern quickly grew.
Telling herself to stay calm, Honor began circling the tower. She assured herself that Nora was fine, that her daughter must have gotten swept up by the crowd, that she would spot her at any second. But halfway around the observation deck, she realized she should have caught up to those short little legs by now. Her pulse threaded unevenly. A large knot of tourists loomed before her, threatening to slow her down. She shoved through them, mumbling her apologies.
But no matter how fast she went, she couldn't catch sight of Nora.
Heart thundering in fear, Honor stopped near the elevator boarding area. She'd come full circle to naught. What now? she wondered, fighting to think clearly.
Help.
She had to get help.
But before she could place one neatly shod purple pump in front of the other, a hard body pressed full length against her back and a large hand gripped her elbow.
“Freeze, Ms. Bright, and don't turn around.”
The low, hoarse words whispered at her ear were menacing. The breath caught in her throat, and Honor did as she was told. He knew who she was – and she wasn't stupid.
“Nora... where is she?” Honor swallowed hard and choked out, “And what is it you want?”
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