Tracie Peterson - [Desert Roses 01]

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Tracie Peterson - [Desert Roses 01] Page 14

by Shadows of the Canyon


  “What do you want from me?”

  “You know very well what I want,” Joel said, lowering his voice. “And one of these days I’ll tire of waiting for what I want and simply take it.”

  “Are you threatening me?” “Actually, yes. I am. Now, will you be a good girl and cooperate with me?”

  “I’ll never cooperate with you. I’m going to speak with Daddy and see that this ridiculous farce is brought to an end. I don’t love you and I have no desire to marry you. I only agreed to the matter to shut you both up for the time. Daddy may adore you, but you know only too well how I feel about you.” She squared her shoulders and seemed to strengthen her resolve. “Besides that, I know things about you. Things that could see you sent to prison for a long time—if not put to death.”

  She adjusted her hat and turned as if to go. Joel refused to be dismissed in such a manner, and he refused to allow her to ruin his plans. “You think to threaten me and walk away? I’ve worked too hard for you to spoil this. What makes you think I’d ever allow you to cause me the slightest bit of trouble? I can see you put in your place rather quickly, Val. A place that would be far more frightening and worrisome than the one you’re in now.”

  “You talk big, but you’re nothing more than my father’s flunky.”

  “If we were alone, I would slap you across the face,” Joel said, clenching his teeth.

  “Well, rest assured we will never be alone. I could end up like that poor prostitute in Washington.” She smiled. “See? You aren’t the only one capable of learning secrets.”

  Joel’s gaze narrowed. “You think me incapable of accomplishing whatever I set my mind to, but I’d ask you to reflect back on that banker’s son you made such a fuss over last year.”

  Valerie grew still. “Leave Andrew out of this. You know his death hurt me greatly.”

  “Yes, I do. That’s why I arranged it.”

  Valerie’s face drained of color. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying you were getting out of control. People were beginning to talk. It seemed the sensible thing to do.” Joel prided himself on his stoic tone and rigid stance. He loved the power he felt over Valerie. Loved the complete disbelief and heartache written in her look.

  “But . . . he . . . he . . . drowned,” Valerie offered weakly.

  “Yes, I know. I was there.” Joel loosened his hold on her arm and smiled rather contentedly. “The man was a nuisance to me. Just as you are beginning to be. Just remember, Val dear, I seldom tolerate irritations for long.” He reached up and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Poor darling. Here you thought you could scare me with your knowledge of past events, when it’s you who should be terrified. Those two deaths are just a pittance. When people annoy me, I make them go away. It’s that simple. Keep it in mind, my dear. Once we’re married and your fortune is mine, you’ll want to be particularly well-behaved.”

  “I’m not afraid of you. Kill me. This misery is worse than death,” she said, jerking away from his touch.

  “Oh, but, my dear, I wasn’t speaking of your death,” he said, giving her a cold smile. “I was speaking of your dear father, our next president. It would truly be a pity if he were to die so soon after our marriage. Why, we might never know what a truly wonderful president he might make.”

  She stared at him openmouthed for a moment, tears forming in her eyes as she searched his face. Turning abruptly, she hurried away from him as if he’d suddenly grown horns atop his head. Joel drew a deep breath and stood awash in a sensation of nervous excitement. He’d never told anyone of his deed. It seemed risqué, bold, even adventurous. Of course, she’d say nothing about it. She’d be too afraid of how it might appear to other people. There was one thing about Valerie that Joel knew he could count on: She adored her father. And that adoration ensured his control.

  Seeing the Keegans standing outside on the veranda, Joel made his way to join them. He wanted to press home his point regarding Alex. Walking outside, Joel found the warmth of the day uncomfortable, but the shade afforded them on El Tovar’s porch was welcome.

  As he approached the Keegans, Rufus pulled his wife behind one of the stone archway supports. Joel thought it rather strange. It looked as if Keegan was trying to hide away from the other guests. Joel smiled to himself. The Keegans apparently had things they’d rather not discuss with an audience, but that was exactly what Joel was going to give them. Stepping from the porch, Joel positioned himself just beneath the arch and well out of sight of Keegan.

  “What do you suppose to gain by this?” Keegan asked his wife.

  “Rufus, I have no desire to fight with you. I have simply come to tell you that I’m leaving. I want a divorce, and I mean to have one.”

  Joel started at this news. He pressed closer to the porch. He had to hear every word, for this could prove very beneficial.

  “There will be no divorce,” Keegan growled out. “You are my wife and you’ll stay that way.”

  “You’re mistaken, Rufus. I’ve endured a great deal because of your escapades, but no more. Alex and I will quietly leave. There needn’t be any public show.”

  “Ah, so Alexandria is in this. I should have known. I warned her . . .”

  “Alex did nothing,” Katherine Keegan interjected. “I simply came here because it seemed a good way to tell her goodbye and inform you at the same time. She has insisted I allow her to come with me, and frankly, I’m glad for her company.”

  “There will be no divorce! I won’t tolerate it. I won’t bear such public humiliation when I’m attempting to better myself with a position in Washington.”

  “I’ve borne your public humiliation for years. In fact, the final straw arrived at my door just before coming here.”

  “What do you mean?” Keegan asked, his rage apparent in his tone.

  “I mean your child. Your illegitimate son. One of your conquests, a Miss Gloria Scott, has given birth to your son and has made it clear to me that she’ll make this quite public if we do not pay her well. I have no desire to be a part of this. Divorce me and marry her, but do not expect me to stand by idly and bear even more disgrace.” Her voice broke and she began to cry. “I cannot take this anymore. You must understand.”

  Joel thought the news rather tasty. There was a great deal he could do with something like this. Already the plans were churning in his head. He’d have to get one of his men to go check out this Gloria Scott woman.

  “No divorce. I’ll see you dead first.” Keegan’s low, ominous tone struck a chord in Joel. He recognized his own determination in Keegan’s temperament.

  “Do you hear me, Katherine? I’ll see you dead before I let you do this.”

  “Then kill me,” she sobbed. “Kill me and release me from this unholy bond.”

  Keegan laughed. “You miserable wretch. What a waste of my time. Stay out of my way. Go hide yourself in your room and leave me to work my plan.”

  “Please, Rufus. Please. Not just for my sake, but for Alex. She deserves happiness, even if that’s impossible for us.”

  “It’s not impossible for us, woman. I’m living it daily. You’re the only one who is unhappy. But trust me, it could be much worse.”

  The crying grew louder and Joel backed away a bit to avoid being seen. He’d heard enough. Rufus Keegan had fathered an illegitimate child. Katherine Keegan wanted a divorce. This was rich fodder for the purposes of controlling a man—or a woman. He immediately thought of Alex. He licked his lips, anxious to pick up where he’d left off with her. Valerie would be his wife and with her would come fortune and status, but Alexandria Keegan would be his as well. It was just a matter of coordinating the details. Something Joel was very, very good at.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I brought you some supper, Luke,” Michaela said after he’d opened the door to his cabin. “Looks like a pretty night for a party, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so.” Luke wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Thanks for the grub.”

  She put the tray on the
table and turned to look Luke straight in the eye. “Are you in pain?”

  “Not really. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you look like you’re in pain, and I just wondered if it was your arm or Alex that’s causing you the most grief.”

  Luke felt his stomach tighten. What did she know about his feelings for Alex? Why should she even suggest such a thing as Alex causing him pain?

  “Look, I know this is none of my business, Luke, but I think you probably need to talk to someone, and since I know the situation probably better than most, you can talk to me.”

  “Talk to you about what?” he asked, turning away.

  “About being in love with Alex. About Alex being in love with you.”

  He turned back around at this. “Alex said that?”

  Michaela laughed. “You’ve got it bad for her, don’t you?”

  “Just answer my question.”

  “No, Alex didn’t say that she was in love with you. But I’m with her more hours of the day than not. I can tell how she feels. I can tell how you feel as well.”

  “How?” He watched her as she considered his question. She seemed completely at ease.

  “It’s the way you look at her. The way you touch her fingers when she hands you something. It’s the way you speak to her. Everything about you sings it loud and clear.”

  “Very well. I do love Alex, but that stays right here between you and me. You may have figured me out, but I don’t think you know Alex very well at all. I saw her in Joel Harper’s arms last night. She can’t be that much in love with me if she’s carrying on like that with him.”

  “You don’t honestly think she was in his arms because she wanted to be, do you? He forced his attentions on her, and she had to fight him off to get away.”

  “What? She told you this?” Luke felt sick to his stomach imagining that Alex had needed him—that she’d been in trouble no more than fifty yards away—and he’d done nothing about it.

  “Luke, Alex is going through a lot right now. I can’t give you all the details, but you have to understand that things aren’t at all good. She’s going to need you now more than ever, and I felt like I needed to speak my mind. You need to tell her how you feel about her. Don’t let the days get away from you—tell her tonight.”

  As the sun set and a riot of color splayed out across the western horizon, the first of the Winthrop parties began on the lawns outside El Tovar. Alex had no idea where all of these people were being housed. There were no fewer than three hundred guests gathered on the south rim of the canyon.

  It appeared that the Winthrops were the perfect hosts. They had arranged the finest foods from the hotel, paid for lavish tables and decorations, and spent hundreds of dollars to orchestrate every detail. And this was only one of several parties. The main gala was not scheduled to occur for another two days.

  Valerie Winthrop seemed in her element. She glided comfortably across the lawn in a flowing creation of silver and black. The look was lavish and opulent in a way that Alex could never hope to know—not that she’d want to. Yet it was amazing just the same.

  A kind of silver spider’s web was molded to Miss Winthrop’s slicked-back hair, while long silver-and-diamond earrings hung from her ears. Diamonds were also draped, almost haphazardly it seemed, around her neck and bodice. She looked the epitome of the modern woman—seductive and alluring, tempting and mysterious.

  Alex watched Valerie with a strange sort of interest. The debutante had no apparent modesty when it came to dealing with the opposite sex. She openly flirted, moving from man to man like a bee gathering pollen. The only man she seemed to completely ignore was Joel Harper, a fact that didn’t appear to set too well with Mr. Harper. There was trouble in his expression, and Alex felt certain there would be a confrontation before the night was over. This thought was only compounded when Valerie attached herself rather openly to Alex’s father.

  Laughing in a manner that seemed much too loud, Valerie appeared for all the world to be completely taken with Rufus Keegan. Alex’s father loved the extra attention. Alex couldn’t help but wonder rather crudely if her father had made Miss Winthrop his latest conquest.

  Surely he wouldn’t risk the possibility of losing a position in the White House. Alex stared hard at her father, willing him to see her and know what she thought of the entire matter. When he finally did look her way, however, Alex was immediately sorry. His foreboding expression said more to her than any words. Not only had he threatened her more than once, but he also had aligned himself with Joel Harper and his talk of eliminating the competition. Whether Harper had been serious or not—and Alex was becoming more and more confident that he had been—her father apparently believed such actions were necessary to gain entry to the White House. He might even be involved with the man to act on those plans, taking the life of an innocent person in order to win an election. The thought sickened Alex and made her more determined than ever to expose them both and let the law deal with them.

  Moving across the well-manicured lawn to offer refreshments to the guests, Alex immediately spotted Bradley Jastrow. The handsome politician from Alabama stood near Hopi House, where guests could buy handmade Indian crafts. The Winthrops had arranged for the Indian dances to be performed during their lawn party, and Jastrow seemed quite interested in those who would dance for the event.

  Alex couldn’t be sure what Joel Harper and her father had planned for Jastrow, but she was desperate to warn him. Still, what could she say? Hello, Mr. Jastrow, my father and his new friends plan to eliminate you from the race for president? Even if it means killing you?

  Maybe I could just tell him that there are rumors going around that someone plans to harm him, she reasoned. I wouldn’t have to say who told me this.

  Offering hors d’oeuvres to those she passed, Alex tried to make an inconspicuous attempt to reach the popular man. There were at least a dozen beautifully attired women who stood in a circle around him. They simpered and pouted and vied for the man’s attention, all the while appearing to size up each other. It was a most unusual game they played.

  Alex’s only intention, however, was to warn Jastrow of the impending danger. And there was another candidate, although she’d not been told his name, who’d arrived at El Tovar for the party. Both were in danger.

  First things first, she thought. I’ll tell Mr. Jastrow and then I’ll seek out the other candidate. But even as she drew near enough to hear Jastrow denounce the illegal actions of those who opposed prohibition, Alex caught sight of Joel Harper watching her.

  Sweat trickled down her back. How could she possibly warn Mr. Jastrow and not arouse Mr. Harper’s suspicions?

  Alex looked across the crowded lawn and found her mother in conversation with Senator Winthrop. The conversation appeared all one-sided on the part of the senator, but nevertheless her mother looked every bit the captive audience. Alex couldn’t help but feel proud. Her mother was a pillar of strength and managed to give a pretense at happiness that Alex would have found impossible.

  Dressed in a crepe de chine gown of dark burgundy, Katherine Keegan looked almost regal—queenly in her stature and deportment. Why couldn’t her father see her beauty and grace and be content with her rather than chasing after so many other women?

  Jastrow moved across the lawn with several people at his side, drawn into conversations Alex had no business in. She looked back to where she’d seen Joel Harper and found him watching her. The hair on her neck stood up, and a prickling sensation climbed her spine. Harper smiled and nodded, as if knowing his effect.

  Alex looked away, wishing desperately she could talk to Luke. Luke would know what to do, or at least he could give her a clearer idea of what wouldn’t work. Right now Alex would settle for that alone. If she could just figure out what not to do, then maybe the proper action would present itself.

  Her desperation mounted as the third contender for the Democratic nomination made his appearance. Laughter loud and shrill broke out from this new
group of visitors. No one seemed to mind, however. Alex wondered if they had any idea the danger they were in. Surely not, she mused; they wouldn’t be here otherwise.

  Seeing her tray was nearly empty, Alex moved across the grounds, her thoughts whirling around her. Perhaps if I appeal to Mr. Harper, maybe talk to him about the importance of . . . of what? She faltered in her step, nearly falling. She turned to see if Harper was watching her, but he’d disappeared.

  Frantic, Alex scanned the crowd. What if he was already putting into play some plan to eliminate the competition? She saw nothing of the man. The orchestra began to play a popular tune and people gathered onto a makeshift dance floor.

  Alex’s heart raced and the beat of it pounded a rhythm in her ears, threatening to leave her deaf. Hurrying from the scene, she prayed. God, you’re the only one who knows what is happening. You know the corruption here. You know what Joel Harper plans to do. Please intercede on behalf of these people.

  She picked up a full tray of lobster canapés and returned to the lawn, hoping, praying that nothing would go amiss. Scanning the grounds once again, Alex felt momentarily relieved. Mr. Jastrow seemed to be enjoying himself. Still surrounded by beautiful women, the handsome man appeared oblivious to any hint of danger. The other opponent to the senator’s campaign seemed equally entertained as he helped himself to a glass of punch from Bernice King’s tray.

  Maybe I’m overreacting, Alex thought. After all, nothing seems amiss. Everyone is laughing and having a good time. Maybe Mr. Harper’s plans would take place only if things don’t appear to be going the senator’s way. She tried to comfort herself with this idea. Surely she was making too much out of Harper’s threats.

  But even as she reasoned with herself, other thoughts crowded in to take away her comfort. His threats were serious. He and my father plan to eliminate whoever gets in their way—whether it’s the opposition, my mother, or me.

 

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