Without giving herself more time to think, Amber had tossed back the down comforter and had slipped into her robe. She had intended to have a chat with Mitch Evans. If Gray wouldn’t give her answers, perhaps she could talk his friend into doing so.
But the answers had begun to come the moment she had opened her bedroom door. She was able to hear the low murmur of Mitch’s voice on the telephone in the living room. Moving cautiously so as not to make the floor squeak the way Mitch had, Amber slipped out into the hall. By the time she was nearly as far as the living room, she was able to hear Mitch’s side of the conversation quite clearly.
“She’s settling in just fine, Gray. Stop worrying about her. Lacey’s going to take her shopping tomorrow... Yeah, I know. She was still simmering when she got off the plane, but by the time we were halfway through dinner she’d relaxed and accepted the situation... Of course I’m sure. Lacey agrees with me.” Mitch gave a small chuckle. “Too bad you used the ex-boyfriend as the reason for shipping her off to us. Lacey says any woman would be humiliated by being treated like a disgraced wife... I know you didn’t have much choice. Your options were limited. You could hardly tell her about the two strong-arms from Tucson, could you? That would have really panicked her. This way she’s just mad, not scared.”
Amber sucked in her breath, her whole body going tense as she stood barefoot in the hall and listened to the rest of the conversation. The strong-arms from Tucson. Roger and Ozzie were involved in this. That explained everything. Apparently Vic Delaney hadn’t given up his notion of trying to convince Gray to lie to Symington. Gray hadn’t dared tell her the real reason he’d wanted her out of town. He hadn’t wanted her to worry, so he’d ensured she got angry instead.
Idiot male. Functioning under the old Code of the West, no doubt. Get the womenfolk safely out of town while the lone marshal confronts the bad guys in the showdown in front of the saloon. Except this wasn’t a case of the good guys versus the bad guys; this was one good guy confronting two bad guys. Not the best odds. The last time this had happened Amber had been the one to handle the situation. It was infuriating that Gray could have forgotten so easily. She stopped mentally rehearsing what she would say to her husband the next time she saw him and concentrated on listening to the remainder of Mitch’s conversation.
“Look, I know you can handle this, Gray, but are you sure you don’t want some backup? Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know. I can be down there in less than four hours by car. Even faster if I can get a convenient flight. Be like old times, wouldn’t it?” There was a pause. “Yeah, I agree. Sounds like a couple of amateurs. Watch yourself, though. The trouble with amateurs is that they behave like amateurs. How the hell did you ever get yourself into this situation? I thought the consulting business was as safe and cozy as the engineering field.” There was a low chuckle, and Mitch began to wind up the conversation.
Amber had quickly retreated down the hall to her bedroom where she’d spend a good portion of the rest of the night awake. Her mind had been spinning with questions and answers. By the time she had finally fallen asleep, she had decided on a plan of action.
The next day she had drummed up the same degree of exuberant enthusiasm for Lacey’s proposed shopping trip as she would have done for a new ad campaign. At breakfast both Mitch and Lacey had seemed to buy the image. Mitch had left for the downtown office of his engineering firm after a final perusing glance at Amber’s animated features. He’d seemed satisfied. After he’d gone, Lacey had innocently outlined the activities she’d planned for the rest of the day.
Thus far Amber had been treated to a tour of the fascinating little shops that lined Robsonstrasse, scones and tea at one of the quaint cafés nearby and finally this trip through the largest of the underground malls. It was nearly four-thirty. Soon Lacey would suggest they leave for home. She and her husband planned to take Amber to a Japanese restaurant tonight.
“I want to go back to Eaton’s and have another look at that dress,” Amber said as she accompanied Lacey into a small boutique. “Why don’t I meet you at the bookstore upstairs?”
“I’ll come with you,” Lacey had exclaimed quickly.
“There’s no need. It’s getting late. Go ahead and finish your shopping here and I’ll meet you in the bookstore just before five.” Amber smiled with innocent reassurance. It was her “You can’t go wrong with this ad” smile.
Lacey again bought the image. She returned the smile and walked on into the shop. Amber immediately headed up the escalator to the sidewalk outside where she quickly found a cab. With any luck Mitch and Lacey would soon find the note she had left behind on her bed before Lacey had taken her shopping.
Half an hour later Amber was headed south to Washington in a rental car. It would take her about four hours to get home.
Shortly after six that evening Gray was surprised by the ringing of the telephone. He put down the heavy volume of Cactus and Guns and reached for the receiver. Even before he heard the self-disgust in Mitch’s voice, he knew something was wrong.
“You’re going to have my head for this, pal,” Mitch began unhappily. “I lost her.”
Gray gripped the phone so tightly it was in danger of cracking. “What the hell are you talking about, Mitch?” His voice was far too soft, and Mitch knew it. His friend sighed.
“She went shopping with Lacey this afternoon and disappeared inside one of the malls. Lacey waited for her at the rendezvous point until five-thirty and then finally decided Amber had taken off. When she got home there was a note on Amber’s bed. She says she’s had enough of playing disgraced wife. She’s headed for California.”
“California!” Gray sat on the edge of the sofa staring blankly at the night-darkened view through the windows. California.
“You want me to come down there so you can pound me into the ground in person, or shall I just stay here and drink poison?” Mitch asked.
“You’re sure she left for California?”
“That’s what her note said. She was very upset, Gray. More upset than Lacey and I had realized, I’m afraid. She covered it beautifully.”
Gray closed his eyes briefly. She had been hurt and angry and she wanted to come home so that she could wring his neck. Instead she’d left for California.
“Gray?”
“Forget it, Mitch. There’s nothing you can do now. I have a hunch I’ll have things settled down here this evening. Then I’ll start looking for Amber„“
“If she’s on her way to California, she should be safe enough for the next twenty-four hours while you clean up that little consulting mess.” Mitch was trying to look on the positive side.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry as hell about this, Gray. Five years of the soft life can change a man. In the old days I wouldn’t have bought that great smile of hers for a minute.”
“She sold a lot of ad campaigns with that smile. No reason you shouldn’t be as susceptible as any other client. Stop blaming yourself, Mitch. As you said, she should be safe enough for now. Tell Lacey not to feel guilty. My wife has a mind of her own.”
“When this is over bring her up here and we’ll try another visit. This time we’ll make it the four of us instead of the three of us.”
“I’ll do that. Good night, Mitch.”
Gray replaced the receiver and remained sitting on the sofa staring out the windows. It was going to be a long night.
Shortly before ten he heard a car in the drive. Gray was on his feet immediately. The brief burst of exultant relief was quickly submerged beneath a layer of deep foreboding. Amber hadn’t gone to California after all.
He leaped for the door, praying his luck would hold long enough for him to get her safely into the house. But even as he wrenched open the door his instincts told him he was too late.
Amber was climbing out of the car. She was moving very slowly and carefully because Roger was stand
ing in front of her on the drive. He was holding a gun. Ozzie was right beside him.
As light from the hall spilled out onto the drive, Roger and Ozzie and Amber all turned their heads toward the man filling the doorway.
“We’re going to give you one more chance to write that report to Symington just the way Mr. Delaney wants it written,” Roger told Gray. He motioned Amber forward with the gun. “This time I think we may have found a real convincing argument.”
11
Amber felt disoriented as she walked slowly toward the open door. She was vividly aware of the gun in Roger’s hand as he moved behind her. The moment she’d turned off the key in the ignition Roger and Ozzie had stepped out of the bushes that lined the drive. She knew she’d walked into the middle of the showdown Gray had apparently anticipated.
“Hello, Amber,” Gray said calmly as she came through the door. His eyes were unreadable. “Are you all right?”
She clutched the strap of her purse, ignoring the two young hoods behind her as her eyes clung to Gray’s. “I’m fine.”
“You’re an hour late.”
“The traffic out of Vancouver was worse than I’d expected.” She couldn’t believe they were having this seemingly casual conversation. It was one more indicator of her sense of disorientation.
“Step back, Grayson,” Roger ordered as Ozzie shut the door. “You, too, lady. Let’s all go into the living room and make ourselves comfortable. You got here just in time,” he added to Amber. “Ozzie and I were just thinking about inviting ourselves inside for a chat with your husband. We’d been waiting for just the right moment. Didn’t know his clever little bodyguard was about to drive up in a car. We thought you were already inside snuggled in for the night.”
Amber didn’t need to look at Gray’s expression to know that he’d planned her departure very carefully yesterday. He’d even managed to get her out of town without letting Roger and Ozzie know she was gone. Of course she’d spoiled the plans by returning unannounced. She imagined Gray would have a few things to say on that subject later. Well, it was his own fault, she told herself ruthlessly. He should have known better than to try to send her away at a time like this.
“Don’t worry about these two, honey,” Gray was saying quietly. He reached out and took her hand, tugging her gently back toward the sofa. “They’re just a couple of amateurs.”
Amber stared at the gun in Roger’s fist and decided she was just as glad there didn’t seem to be any “professionals” in the vicinity. Amateurs were quite bad enough. She was grateful for the strength in Gray’s hand.
“Amateurs, Grayson?” Ozzie’s eyes were a little too bright, almost feverish in intensity. “Is that what you think we are? You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You’re the amateur. Thought you could ignore Mr. Delaney’s request and get away with it.”
“And after Mr. Delaney was so nice to you and your wife down in Tucson.” Roger shook his head sadly. “Ingratitude. That’s your whole problem, Grayson. Ingratitude. The least you could do to make amends is write a real good report to Symington. Better make sure you give it your best shot, because if the deal doesn’t go through, Mr. Delaney is going to send us back to finish what we’re supposed to start tonight.”
Amber shuddered. “You’ve delivered your warning. Now get out.”
Ozzie chuckled. “There’s more to this warning than a few polite words, Mrs. Grayson. We’ve already tried words with your husband. He’s the stubborn type. We’re going to have to give him a little demonstration. Show him we mean business, if you know what I mean.
Roger nosed up the barrel of his handgun. “You’re going to help us make our point, Mrs. Grayson.”
Amber stared at him in disbelief. It was Gray who responded, his tone still infinitely calm. No, Amber decided, it was more than merely calm. There was a frighteningly fathomless element in his words. Listening to him was like standing in the depths of a lost cavern and looking over the edge of a bottomless pit.
“She’s got nothing to do with this,” Gray said. “This is between Delaney and myself. Let her go.”
“Now, Grayson, you don’t really expect us to do that, do you?” Roger grinned evilly. “We already told you that this time around we’d be using your wife to get our point across.”
“You don’t need her to do that.”
Amber listened to the exchange with sudden comprehension. Roger and Ozzie had threatened to hurt her. No wonder Gray had ordered her to pack yesterday and then shoved her onto an airplane and sent her off to stay with friends.
“I think we do need her,” Ozzie stated, staring at Amber’s still face. “Besides, we owe her a little something for that trick down in Tucson. Come here, lady.”
Amber didn’t move. “Go to hell,” she said, her voice almost as calm as Gray’s. She felt his fingers tighten briefly around her hand and then he released her.
“I said, come here!” Ozzie reached for her. “We’re going to work you over a little and let your husband watch. Bound to make him feel more like writing a real positive report to Symington.”
“You’d better tie him up, first,” Roger advised as Amber stepped hastily out of reach. He indicated Gray, who was standing with his back to the sofa immediately behind him. “We don’t want him trying to play hero.”
“My pleasure.” Ozzie took a length of wire out of his pocket and began untwisting it. “Put your hands behind your back, Grayson.”
“What makes you think I’m going to make this easy for you?” Gray asked mildly, not moving.
“Grab the woman,” Ozzie instructed his pal.
“I told you they were amateurs, Amber,” Gray remarked as Ozzie moved forward with the wire. “Just a couple of small-timers. They’re good at threatening to beat up a woman, but that’s just about their limit. They’re never going to make it in the big time. That’s because they haven’t got the guts to go up against a man.”
“Shut up, Grayson,” Roger hissed. He swung the gun back and forth between Amber and Gray. “Come over here,” he snapped at Amber, who again didn’t move. “I said get over here, damn you!”
“I’ll take care of her just as soon as I finish tying him up,” Ozzie promised. “But first I think I’m going to soften him up a little. Amateurs? Grayson, you don’t know the meaning of the word. You’re the amateur around here.” He launched a short, punching jab that caught Gray in the chest.
Amber gasped as Gray sprawled down onto the sofa. “Gray!”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Roger growled. He was watching avidly as his partner leaned down to haul his victim up off the sofa for another assault.
What happened next was a blur of motion that Amber had a hard time explaining later. Gray came up off the sofa just as Ozzie reached down to grab his arm. But he didn’t come up empty-handed. The light glinted on the cold blue steel in his fist.
“What the hell...? Roger, he’s got a gun!” Ozzie scrambled backward, but he was too late.
Gray held the gun in his right hand and used his left to deliver a short, violent chop against the side of Ozzie s neck. Ozzie went down without a whimper. Roger yelled as he saw his partner fall to the floor. Instinctively he leaped to gain a shield. His hand snaked out to gasp Amber’s wrist and pull her toward him.
But Amber already had her hands on the heavy brass- and leather-bound volume of Cactus and Guns that had been left lying on a sofa cushion. She swung wildly with it and felt the book collide jarringly with Roger’s gun.
There was an explosion of sound that shattered one of the mirrors behind the couch, and Roger screamed in rage. His gun clattered to the floor. Amber scrambled out of the way, breathing quickly as she took in the situation. Her eyes flew to Gray.
“I’ve been telling you for over three months that there are times when there’s nothing quite like a bit of Twitchell’s poetry.” Gray spoke without taking his eyes off R
oger.
“I see what you mean.” Amber glanced at the heavy volume that had landed on the floor. “A real literary heavyweight.”
“Are you okay, Amber?”
“Much better than I was a few minutes ago.”
Ozzie moaned and stirred at Gray’s feet. Gray stepped aside. “It would seem,” Gray went on mildly, “that there’s been a realignment of power here. Amber, pick up Roger’s gun. We wouldn’t want him getting any ideas.”
Amber hurried over to where the weapon had fallen when she’d swung Cactus and Guns. She scooped up the gun, a little surprised by how heavy it was. “I’ve got it.” A big iron, as Twitchell would have said.
“Good. Now call the police so that we can get these two out of here once and for all.”
“We should have called the cops a long time ago,” Amber muttered as she picked up the phone.
“We didn’t have any real charges to bring against Roger and Ozzie until tonight, at least not strong enough charges to keep them out of our hair.” Gray smiled briefly. “But now we do. They made all sorts of mistakes tonight. Like I said, amateurs.”
Roger glared at him. Ozzie moaned again and lay still. Amber ignored them both and began dialing.
The sound of a car in the drive a few minutes later came almost at the same instant that Amber was hanging up the phone. “Good heavens, how did the cops get here so fast?”
“I doubt if it’s the police. See who it is before you open the door, Amber. We’ve had enough houseguests this evening.”
She didn’t argue. Hurrying forward she put one eye to the small glass peephole in the front door just as the doorbell rang. “Oh, Lord,” she said.
“Who is it?” Gray was still watching his captives, the gun held easily in his hand.
“You’re not going to like this, Gray.”
“I haven’t liked much at all about this evening’s events. Who is it?”
“Roarke.”
“Ah.” It was impossible to tell from his voice what Gray was thinking.
Between the Lines Page 17
