Kane

by Jennifer Blake

  “You don’t feel the least bit of an inclination to go into panic mode and pound me between the eyes?”

  She saw what he was getting at and couldn’t believe he’d needed to make the point so plainly before she remembered. In some irritation, she said, “We aren’t shut up in a coffin together.”

  “No, but we’re certainly in the dark, with me holding you confined and with even less between us and final jeopardy than there was that day.” He pressed inside her a teasing inch to show her exactly what he meant. “Maybe you weren’t bothered then, either. Maybe it was an excuse to get away from me.”

  “Or maybe,” she countered with a pugnacious jut of her chin, “it’s just that you’re not a threat anymore.”

  “Wrong,” he said, and slid into her with a strong twist of the hips that took him to the hilt. “Wrong,” he repeated as he withdrew, then mimicked the same motion. Then again. And again. Endlessly, until the refrain echoed in Regina’s brain with the rising tide of perilous pleasure and she thought she might hear it in her dreams.

  Kane was gone when she roused again an hour later. It was the closing of the door behind him that caused her to surface through layers of darkness this time. She lay still with her eyes closed, listening to the sound of his truck as the engine roared into life and he drove off.

  It had been courteous of him to try to let her sleep, but she would rather have had a chance to say good-bye. She would also have preferred a chance to look him in the face before he left her.

  There was something about the evening she had just spent with Kane that made her restless, uneasy. Something had been going on beneath its surface, she was sure of it. As she thought back, it seemed every word, every movement, carried some disturbing message if she could only see it. At the same time, she didn’t really want to think about it, didn’t want to investigate Kane’s behavior or her own too closely. Fear of what she might find was too real and threatening.

  She sat up and pushed the hair back from her face with a tired gesture, then reached for the travel clock on the bedside table. After twelve. It would be past one in New York. Replacing the clock, she leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes.

  She should call Gervis. He would be awake, waiting to hear from her. Her cousin was a night owl who liked to stay up until the wee hours, then sleep in. That had been one of the things that had bothered him most about having a child in the house after Stephan was born—that he had to change his sleeping habits to accommodate a small human being who rose at dawn.

  The nagging worry about Stephan caught at her. She hoped he was all right with Gervis. She’d never left her son alone with him before. Gervis was fond of him in his way, but Stephan made him tense. He seemed to resent the amount of time and attention he took. At the same time, it was almost as if Gervis was afraid of him, afraid of not doing what was right around him.

  A sudden longing swept over her to hold Stephan, to snuggle his warm, bony little body against her and feel his quick, hard hug. To hear him say he loved her. She had taught herself not to think about such things ever since he’d been in his hospital-like boarding school, but it was hard, so hard. She had let Gervis talk her into the arrangement, had listened to the expert he’d insisted on bringing in to examine Stephan and who said it was necessary for him to attend the special school. She wanted her child to have what was needed, wanted what was best for him. Still, she missed him so much. And in her mother’s heart she wasn’t sure such intense therapy was necessary for Stephan. Like the evening just past, it felt all wrong.

  Everything seemed wrong, really: being separated from Stephan, coming to Turn-Coupe under false pretenses, conning Lewis Crompton, becoming involved with Kane for what she could learn from him. It was also a mistake to allow herself to feel much too much for a man who was going to hate her when he found out who she was and what she had done.

  She couldn’t stand it, she really couldn’t. It was time she stopped, time she told Gervis she wouldn’t do it anymore.

  Did she dare?

  Gervis wasn’t reasonable these days. Whatever friendship and family feeling he might have had for her after years of treating her like a younger sister seemed submerged in his need to win this suit at all costs. Sometimes, though, she wondered exactly what he felt, whether he considered her a convenient hostess or just a responsibility inherited from his mother, an accepted part of his life, or a habit from which he could find no way to break free.

  If Gervis deserted her, she would be alone. Could she stand that solitude, the loneliness of having no one to depend on except herself, no one to help with the difficult decisions that cropped up in her life? She thought she could, for herself, but wasn’t sure she could give her son the care he needed. She had to be sure for Stephan’s sake since he was the one who mattered most.

  It always came back to that in the end—what was best for her son. Always. Sighing with resignation, she reached for the phone.

  Gervis answered on the second ring. As he heard her voice, he growled, “About damned time. I was getting ready to send Slater in there to find out if you were okay.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  “If you had any idea what he’s like, it would be the last thing to cross your mind.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So what gives down there?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s the same. Is Stephan asleep?”

  “What? You think at this time of night, he should be waiting up for his mommy to call him?”

  “Gervis, don’t,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “Don’t be like this.”

  “Why not? I hear you’re getting it on with the hick lawyer.”

  “It’s what you suggested, isn’t it?”

  “So are you finding out anything or just having a good time?”

  The anger stirring inside her came to a sudden boil. “If this is the way you’re going to be,” she said with precision, “then I’m hanging up.”

  “Don’t you do it!” The command was fast, but much more moderate. She could hear him breathing in short, heavy pants through his nose, as if conquering rage he didn’t intend to show. He was pacing with the remote phone clamped to his ear, she thought, for she could hear brief waves of static and the slap of the leather soles of his handmade Italian house shoes on the hardwood of the penthouse hallway.

  “Tell me about Stephan,” she said. “Does he like the nurse you hired? Is he all right being away from the school? You haven’t talked to him about anything, have you?”

  “The kid’s fine. He’ll be even better when his mother gets her job done and gets herself back here to him.”

  “I’m trying. But I wish you’d let Stephan go back to school where he belongs. He’s bound to pick up on what’s going on if he’s around very long. My son is hyperactive, not stupid.”

  “He’s also useful, Gina, honey. I need him to keep you in line.”

  The meaning behind the words wasn’t subtle, nor was it meant to be. “You don’t, Gervis, I promise, and I’d rather he was where he belongs. I can’t do what I’m supposed to with this threat hanging over my head.”

  “You’ll have to, baby, because that’s the way it is.”

  “Why? You know you can trust me.” She hated the sound of her voice, could hardly force the pleading words from her throat.

  “That so? I hear you got yourself marooned with Benedict out on some lake, spent hours alone with the guy. But did I hear about it from you? No, not a peep. I had to get it from Slater. I’m thinking maybe I should turn this whole job over to him.”

  “He’d love that. In fact, I expect it’s what he’s after.”

  “You don’t like him much, do you?”

  “He’s the worst kind of scum. In fact, I think he may have—”

  “Get the job done and he’ll be out of your hair,” her cousin cut her off with sarcasm layering his voice. “Speaking of which, you sure you got nothing for me?”

  The suspicion in the question
sent what she was about to say out of her head. Should she tell him about the switched caskets and the lovers buried together? If she thought it would satisfy him, she might, but she didn’t think it would. He would hound her for more details, more dirt, would make something corrupt out of a generous and compassionate response to a woman who had made a mistake. “No,” she said, her voice as firm as she could make it. “I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”

  She had hesitated too long. He was silent for an explosive second, then he cursed. “You’re lying, baby. You got something. You’re just too much of a bleeding heart to lay it on the line. Slater’s right. You’re not cut out for this job. You’ve let that bunch of rebels down there get to you. I don’t watch out, you’ll be doing me more harm than good.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked, holding the phone so tight her fingers ached.

  “I mean you’ll blab everything you know about me to Crompton and that grandson of his. You’ll set me up.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Gervis, what kind of person do you think I am?”

  “You’re a woman. No telling what a woman will do.”

  That was a far more blatantly sexist remark than anything Kane had come close to making, even if he felt it, which she wasn’t sure he did. There was, she realized, consideration and protectiveness underlying most of Kane’s more chauvinistic impulses. “Look,” she said, “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re waffling, playing both ends against the middle and trying to keep your hands clean. It ain’t gonna work, I see that now. I think it’s time I pulled the plug. I want you out of there.”

  “Leave? Just like that?” Distress vibrated in her voice.

  “This second, babe. Get yourself a seat on the first plane out of that rinky-dink place. I want you back here as soon as you can make it.”

  “But I can’t just drop everything.”

  “Don’t give me any crap, Gina. Do it now. Don’t tell anybody you’re going. Don’t stop to say good-bye. Be on that plane, or I’m warning you, you won’t like what happens.”

  The order was followed by the click of the remote phone being punched off. Regina lowered the receiver to her lap. She sat staring at nothing while his words slammed around inside her head.

  Leave. Now. Leave Kane when she had just begun to know him. Leave Mr. Lewis and Elise, Luke and Vivian, even Betsy. The thought of it made her feel empty and sick. She had only been here a matter of days, but there was something about the place and the people that drew her to them, made her feel warm inside. She didn’t want to leave.

  Yet how could she stay? There was no future in her relationship with Kane or any of the rest of them. They were going to despise her when they learned the truth. All her half-formed dreams of acceptance and belonging were just that: dreams. Useless, silly visions of the impossible.

  Stephan needed her just as she needed him. He was her center, her refuge, her very life. He had been from the moment he was born and would be always. She must let no harm come to him because of her. She couldn’t stand it if it did.

  He was her family.

  Kane had his, and she had hers. His was large while hers was small. Only two people, really. Yet the loyalties and love that bound them were the same. Her tie to Gervis might not be of blood, but it was of long standing. He had protected her, sheltered her, sent her to school. He had been there for her on the terrible night Stephan was conceived, and afterward, when her son was born. She owed Gervis so much, and he had a right to expect loyalty from her in return. It would be unforgivable of her not to give it, even if she didn’t agree with what he was doing.

  Yes, but why did it have to be so hard? So very hard.

  Regina closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. Tears beaded along the bases of her lashes. She wiped them away, smearing them across her cheeks. Then she shook back her hair and turned on the lamp. The phone book was tucked into the drawer of the bedside table. She turned to the yellow pages, found the listings for airlines. Picking up the phone again, she started to dial.

  Regina was gone.

  Kane couldn’t believe it. Gone, just like that, without a word of explanation. Without good-bye, so long, see you around. Nothing.

  He’d have expected better of her if he’d had any idea she’d leave at all.

  Somehow he had thought the love they shared had meant more to her. He still felt that way. There were only two reasons that he could see, then, for why she might have left. One was that she had found out he was on to her. The other was that someone had forced her to go.

  Of course, there could be a third reason if he wanted to reach for it. She could have gone because she needed to get away from him. Because she had faked her pleasure in making love to him and could pretend no longer.

  He had to know which it was or else, couldn’t stand not knowing.

  Betsy had told him that Regina had checked out in too big a hurry to have much to say to the night manager, then had driven off in her rental car. Betsy also said that Dudley Slater had asked for a room the day before, but spent more time away from it than he did in it. The newspaper reporter wasn’t there when Kane knocked on the unit’s door, but he was in the coffee shop. Kane headed straight for the booth where he sat and slid into the cracked plastic seat across from him.

  “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Slater said in sour greeting as he looked up from his morning paper. With elaborate care, he folded the newsprint to a different section and began to read again.

  “Thanks, I intend to.” Kane plucked the paper out of the man’s hand and placed it on the seat beside him. “Now that we’ve got the preliminaries out of the way, how about a little meaningful discussion? Such as what happened to Regina?”

  Slater studied him. The resentment in his skeletal features turned slowly to sterile humor. “Your honey pot’s gone, huh?”

  The insinuation in the man’s voice grated on Kane’s nerves, but he let it go for the moment. “Something like that. Know anything about it?”

  “Nothing I’d tell you.”

  “I suggest,” Kane said in slicing warning, “that you reconsider.”

  “What you gonna do? You and the sheriff so tight you can have my ass thrown in jail? Big deal. I been in better lockups in better towns than this.”

  “It still might be worth it for the satisfaction.”

  “Hard-nosed, aren’t you? As if I give a shit.”

  “You might care a lot,” Kane said evenly, “if I decide to break your neck.”

  “Lay a hand on me and I’ll write you up as a mad-dog attorney, all brawn and no brains, outclassed and outmaneuvered by the most prestigious law firm in the Northeast. You’ll be a laughingstock.”

  “And I’ll slap a suit for slander and defamation on you and your paper before the next issue hits the streets,” Kane countered without raising his voice. “Now, would you like to give me a straight answer?”

  They stared at each other for long moments. Then Slater gave an elaborate shrug.

  “You want to know where Regina Dalton went? Hell, Benedict, where do you think? She went back to New York where a classy broad like her belongs.”

  It was not what Kane wanted to hear. “Why?”

  “How the hell should I know? I guess she got what she came for. Or maybe her cousin decided he’d rather have her warming his bed than out boffing the competition.”

  “Be very careful,” Kane said, narrowing his eyes, “or you may wind up with more to write about than you expect.”

  “You asked a question and I answered.” Slater licked his lips, his gaze avid. “Tell me one thing, Benedict. Was she good?”

  Kane shot out his arm and grabbed the front of Slater’s shirt. There was no decision, no plan, just suddenly he had a wad of grimy cotton clutched so tightly in his fist it shut off the little man’s wind. And he didn’t care who saw him or when he let go.

  “Hey,” Slater rasped. “God.”

  “I asked a civil question,” Kan
e said, the words distinct, evenly spaced. “I’ll have a civil answer or you don’t get to breathe.”

  “Berry called. She went. What else you need to know?” Slater plucked at Kane’s fist while his face turned a sickly purple.

  “Why did he call? Why now?”

  Malevolence glittered in the reporter’s bulging eyes as he rasped, “Why you think? Berry found out what was going on, decided his woman was having too much fun on the job.”

  “How is it you know what he decided?” Kane released the man and sat back in his seat, suppressing an urge to wipe his hand as if he’d touched something dirty.

  “It’s my job to know.” Slater rubbed his throat as he stretched it, trying to swallow. As Kane leaned forward again, he added hastily, “For Christ’s sake, he said so when I reported to him.”

  “Reported what?”

  “The two of you getting so cozy. What else?”

  “Why should that bother Berry if she’s like some kind of adopted cousin?” Kane thought the repellent scumbag was proud of his information-gathering abilities. Let him display them, then.

  “Who says she is?”

  “The lady herself.”

  “Yeah, sure. All I can say is Berry’s name’s on her kid’s birth certificate.”

  Kane sucked in air as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. For an instant, his vision was red around the edges.

  It had all been a lie—Regina’s aversion to sex, the tragic tale of date rape. More than likely, she wasn’t an orphan, either, had never been taken in by Berry’s mother as a young girl.

  The betrayal hurt. It hurt more than he had ever dreamed it could, far more than the con Francie had pulled. More than he might be able to stand if he let himself think about it.

  He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not now.

  “Didn’t know that, did you?” Slater asked, his voice oozing gratification. “Never crossed your mind to find out. Now me, I make it my business to dig up that kind of dirt. There’s more than one angle to a story, more than one way to make a buck off a case. People will pay big to know about Berry’s love life once this case gets rolling.”