He really was a bright child.
She reached out to her son, waiting until he was safe in the circle of her arms again before she said, “What is it exactly that you want to know?”
“Now that’s more like it,” Gervis said with a twist of his lips. “Give it to me, every little whisper you heard about Crompton. I want it all, including how often he goes to the toilet. That will do for a start.”
She searched her mind, trying to dredge up something, anything, that might satisfy Gervis. “Well, to start with, he keeps a coffin in the parlor of his old house.”
“Good, good, we can hint the old guy’s batty, thinks he’s some kind of vampire or something. What else you got? C’mon, give.”
“He has a lady friend he’s been seeing for some time, but he’s only recently decided to remarry. I think he may have still been hung up in some way over his first wife.”
“She’s dead, right? He spend much time in cemeteries, got a yen for corpses? Nah, that won’t work. What else? C’mon.” He furrowed his brow, looking for angles, even as he snapped his fingers, motioning impatiently for her to speak faster.
“His grandson, Kane, is the most important person in his life, and the two of them make a formidable team. They will pursue the suit to their last breath and can hold out indefinitely because the law firm is in the family.”
As the words left her mouth, Regina felt the stirring of an idea. Gervis wasn’t the only person with access to an excellent lawyer. She knew one with a crusader instinct, one who might help her if only she could talk to him, make him see how important it was.
“Benedict & Brown are small potatoes,” Gervis said with a sneer. “My guys will mop the floor with them.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure.”
He gave a coarse laugh. “Hell, Gina, you think Benedict’s a miracle worker?”
Did she? It was possible. He had helped her before and might again with the right incentive. The only question was what it would cost her.
What was the going rate for a first-class miracle? What would Kane want from her in return for what she intended to ask?
She had no idea. But whatever he wanted, she would have to pay.
16
The hardest part of getting away from the New York apartment and Gervis again was leaving Stephan behind. She hated having to do it, cursed Gervis for the necessity, but could find no way around it. She was free to come and go. Her son was under guard.
No doubt Gervis thought she would never leave without Stephan or, if she did, could always be forced to come crawling back. He was partially right.
It was nearly noon the following morning, after Gervis had left for his office at the Berry Association building, that she told Stephan she was going. The look on his face as he realized she was leaving him behind almost broke her heart.
“Don’t go,” he whispered. “I don’t like it when you’re not here.”
For a single instant, she wavered, almost ready to remain for his sake, accepting whatever conditions Gervis imposed. It wouldn’t work. He would expect Stephan to return to his school, and she couldn’t bear that. She’d also have to live in constant fear of what else Gervis might do to him.
She dropped to her knees in front of her son, putting her hands on his shoulders as she searched his small face for understanding. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’ll be back to get you, then we’ll go someplace far away where we can always be together.”
“But I want to go now,” he insisted, his eyes huge and liquid with need.
The fervent urge to snatch up her son and make a run for it clutched at her heart. She forced it down. The houseman, Michael, was in the kitchen making brunch for the nurse, a busty blonde who cooed over Stephan when either Gervis or Regina was around, but spent the rest of the time coming on to Gervis’s hired goon. The houseman was definitely interested there, but that didn’t keep him from checking out every move Stephan or Regina made. He would be sure to either block her escape or chase her down. Gervis would then be put on his guard. She would be jeopardizing her chance of gaining total custody.
“I’d take you if I could, sweetness. Really, I would. But I just can’t this time.” The instinctive endearment she’d used was a vivid reminder of Kane. Sugar Kane, her only hope.
“Will you be gone long?”
Her son’s voice was so small she could barely hear it. It triggered memories of all the weeks and months he had been left at his school, all the times she had walked away from him with tears streaming down her face while telling herself she was doing what was best for him. As she was now.
“It won’t be long at all,” she said thickly. “Not a single second longer than it absolutely has to be, I promise.”
He looked at her, his hazel green gaze earnest, painfully accepting, agonizingly trusting. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Cross my heart,” she whispered, making the quick mark on her chest. “Oh, cross my heart.”
She caught him close, holding tight, aching with love for the feel of his small arms around her neck as she rocked him against her, imprinting it on her memory. Then she released him and went quickly from the room and the apartment while she was still able.
Back in Turn-Coupe, Regina checked into the motel and asked for the same room she’d had before. Betsy seemed a little cool as she handed over the registration card to be signed. She stood for a moment watching Regina fill out the blanks before she said, “Kane was fit to be tied when he found out you were gone.”
“Oh?” It was the best Regina could do. She didn’t look up, but her every sense was alert for anything more Betsy might tell her.
“He was about ready to call the police, tell them you’d been kidnapped, until I told him you’d checked out. I still had to let him in to see for himself. Even then, I don’t think he got the message, not until he found out you were on a plane to New York.”
“He called the airline?” She hadn’t thought he would go so far.
Betsy took the registration and Regina’s credit card as they were pushed toward her, then processed them with quick, practiced motions. “I did it for him while he stood right there where you’re standing. He wasn’t happy with what he heard. Can’t say I’d want to be in your shoes when he finds out you’re back.”
“He was angry?”
“Livid, honey. How come you took off like that without telling him where you were going?”
“I—didn’t think he’d notice since it was for hardly more than twenty-four hours.” That was untrue. She’d thought she wouldn’t be coming back. She’d expected that, when the trial started if not before, Kane would discover her connection to Gervis. Then it wouldn’t matter to him where she went.
“Lord, have you got a lot to learn about Southern men,” Betsy said in dry warning. “You want I should give him a call, let him know you’re here?”
The very idea made the hair rise on the back of Regina’s neck, though she could see Betsy was dying to give Kane the news. Hastily, she said, “I’ll ring him myself when I get to my room.”
She didn’t make the call. For one thing, she needed time to think about what Betsy had told her and decide what she was going to say to Kane. Asking an angry man to help her gain custody of her son the minute she saw him didn’t sound like a workable plan. Most of all, she needed to gather the courage to make her appeal. It had to be right since it was so important that Kane listen to her, help her. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he refused.
When the knock came less than an hour after she checked in, the first thing that went through her mind was that Betsy had called Kane anyway. Apparently, he’d lost no time in getting to the motel. More disturbed than she cared to admit, she walked to the door and threw it open.
It was Slater who stood outside. He was a little cleaner than when she’d seen him last, but not by much. His pants were rumpled and his shirt looked as if he’d rinsed it out by hand and put it back on still damp. His smile w
as loose lipped and cynical.
“Well now,” he said as he slouched in the doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Look who’s back.”
“What do you want?” Even as she spoke, she silently berated herself for not using the peephole before she opened the door.
“Berry wanted to know when you showed up. I’m checking for him.”
“Lovely,” she said in brittle disdain. “Now you can relieve his mind.” She started to shut the door.
Slater stuck out his foot to stop her. “Hold on there. I trotted over for Berry, but I’m staying for me.”
Something in his expression sent alarm zinging along Regina’s nerves. In quick reflex, she rammed her shoulder into the door and shoved. Slater cursed and leaped to thrust his arm into the opening, using the leverage to throw her backward. She stumbled, almost falling. He whipped inside and kicked the door shut.
“What do you want?” she demanded as she regained her balance and backed away.
His lips formed a grin of snide triumph as he let his hot gaze slide over her, from her hair that was drawn back on either side of her face with gold-and-tortoiseshell barrettes to the curves of her body under a cotton shirt and matching skirt in old gold. “Thought I’d tell you you’re wasting your time here. I already found out all there is to know.”
“That couldn’t be much,” she said, acutely wary. Keep him talking, she thought. That was what all the self-defense manuals preached, wasn’t it?
“Enough. Seems the old man’s been burying people in the wrong place. On purpose. Now we can’t have that, can we?”
“How did you…?” She clamped her lips together, angry with herself for letting him know she had also come across that information.
“You’d be surprised what buying a few beers for the right guy will do, such as one of the old codgers who works down at the funeral home.”
“Gossip,” she said with scorn. “Gervis will want something that can be documented. I’ll be surprised if he pays off.”
“You got his number, don’t you? He offered less than half what he said at first.”
So Gervis already had the information. She’d refused to give it to him, had held her tongue in spite of everything. It had given her distinct pleasure to think she had thwarted him. All for nothing. “Whatever you found out isn’t likely to damage Lewis Crompton.”
“Yeah, that’s what Berry thought, though he was less polite about it. But he’s going to twist it around into something he can use, so I don’t see what right he’s got to hold out on me. That’s where you come in.” He licked his lips, a slow movement of his coated tongue, as his gaze rested on the firm curves of her breasts.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t imagine what you expect me to do about it.”
“Berry’s got too many connections for me to touch him. But you’re his main woman, his safety piece, the one he keeps stashed in his apartment—or were up to now. Did he put you onto Benedict, or was that your idea?”
“None of your business.”
“Your mistake, honey. I been keeping my eye on you because of Gervis, but I like what I see. I think we’d be a good team—you with the looks, me with the know-how.”
“What you’ve got is gall.”
“You saying you won’t go for it?”
“Exactly.” Every ounce of the repugnance she felt was in her voice.
“You don’t want a partner on the deal, then maybe you’ll ante up the difference Berry owes me.”
She looked him up and down. “Why on earth should I do that?”
“Why not?” he countered. “Didn’t I help you out there the other night so’s you could get it on with Benedict? That oughta be worth something.”
“I knew it had to be you. Though I can’t imagine why you bothered.”
“Had to do something, it being too dangerous to go after old man Crompton again. Figured you might be grateful to have it fixed so you finally got something out of Benedict, might even see we’d make a team. I should’ve known better.”
“What makes you think he told me anything?”
He lifted a bony shoulder. “Stands to reason, the way you took off out of here.”
“Then why would I come back?”
“You and Berry had a falling out over what you been doing. Leastwise, it seemed that way to me, reading between the lines. Which is why I thought you might like to join forces.”
“Forget it. I’m not joining you in anything.”
“That so? Guess I’ll have to settle for my payoff, then.”
He moved toward her. She stepped back at the same time. “I don’t have any money, only plastic.”
“That kind of pay,” he said with a lewd grin, “ain’t what I had in mind. I’ve had me a real itch for a redhead several days now. Don’t see why I shouldn’t scratch it since old Berry seems done with you.”
“No.” The refusal was as forceful as she could make it. At the same time, she wondered if Gervis had really given up on her since he had what he wanted. Not that it mattered. Invoking his protection was the last thing on her mind; she had no intention of ever being obligated to him again.
“Oh, yeah,” he whispered, advancing.
“Stay away from me.”
Sickness boiled inside her as she retreated. Why any man would think he could use a woman without her cooperation was a mystery. That this scrawny excuse for humanity dared threaten her with it was an insult.
“I don’t think so.”
He was between her and the door. If she led him deeper into the room, she might be able to fake him out, make a break for it. She didn’t know what else to try. There was no weapon anywhere in the sparsely furnished unit.
What was it about her that made both Gervis and Slater view her as easy prey? Not long ago, she would have thought she looked like a victim, as if she had the word stamped across her forehead in big letters. Now she wondered if her newfound initiative wasn’t a challenge they couldn’t resist trying to knock down.
Even as these ideas flickered through her mind, she recoiled from Slater’s cocky advance. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the door of the motel’s tiny bathroom standing open like an invitation. Abruptly, she whirled and dove inside.
Slater was after her in a flash. As she swung the door shut, he hurled himself against it, driving her back a pace. She braced her feet against the tub, grunting as she put her shoulder to the door, jamming it closed while she snapped the lock with quick fingers. Then she released it and jumped back.
The door shuddered and rattled in its frame as Slater thumped it with his fist, then slammed into it with his shoulder once, twice, a third time. Plaster crumbled from around its hinges. The wood creaked and groaned. As he hit it yet again, the hollow-core construction began to splinter and break apart. Beneath the noise, she could hear the newsman cursing, ranting, telling her exactly what he was going to do to her when he got to her.
Regina put a hand to her amber pendant as she swung around, searching for something, anything, to use to defend herself. The only thing she saw was the toilet tank lid. She grabbed it with both hands. The porcelain rectangle grated with a nerve-shattering screech as she jerked it off, but it felt comfortingly heavy. She lifted it high and stood ready.
The doorjamb ripped loose, but the lock held for an instant. Slater thrust his arm through, feeling for the knob with its push-button catch. Regina took a deep breath and smashed the tank lid down on his wrist.
He howled and jerked his arm back. Quiet fell for a split second.
Then Slater attacked the door in a frenzy, cursing and yelling as he pounded into it with his shoulder again and again. Wood screeched. Plaster flew. She glimpsed the snarl on his face through the ragged opening. The door was going to give way. Regina backed up, wedging herself between the lavatory and the toilet.
Suddenly, somewhere in the background, a different, more muffled crash sounded, followed by a deep voice in exclamation. Slater barked out a startled oath. A second
later, he vanished from behind the mangled door. Then the only sound was a labored, asthmatic wheezing.
“Regina?”
Kane. It was Kane.
Relief flooded her so suddenly that it forced a strangled gasp from her throat. Her hands shook as she put the toilet tank lid on the floor. She fumbled with what remained of the bathroom door, dragged it open a small space, then pushed her way past the broken frame.
Kane had Slater against the wall, holding him there with a hard forearm across his throat while the reporter made choking noises and scrabbled for purchase with his dangling toes. There was black fury in Kane’s eyes and a dangerous set to his mouth.
Stepping quickly to his side, she put her hand on the corded muscle of his arm. “I’m all right,” she said. “Let him go.”
Kane turned his head, meeting her gaze for a long, searching instant. Then he released the newsman with an abrupt, openhanded gesture of contempt. Slater fell back against the wall and grabbed his throat with one hand, while the other flopped at an odd angle in front of him. All the fight and threat seemed to have gone out of him.
Kane touched her arm, turning her to face the light coming from the open entrance door. He lifted his hand to brush her disheveled hair back from her face, then let his fingers linger on the curve of her cheek. “You’re sure you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you?”
She nodded wordlessly, shielding her gaze with her lashes, afraid to answer for fear her voice would break. His concern triggered a strong need to burst into tears and throw herself into his arms. Another time, she might have succumbed, but there had been something dark and severe in the first glance he’d thrown her, which suggested it might not be a good idea. The effort to control the impulse left her rigid and breathless.
“I ain’t all right,” Slater croaked. “She’s broke my damn arm.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck,” Kane said, swinging on him with such menace that the reporter shrank back. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
Kane Page 23
