by Helen Conrad
A small, dark figure was bending over the boxes and her heart gave a lurch. She didn’t have to look twice to know it was Jimmy.
“Jimmy!” she cried, rushing forward.
He looked up, startled at first to see this blond lady running at him, but once he recognized her face, he broke into a smile and let her hug him.
She laughed with happiness. “Jimmy, are you all right?”
She had to feel him all over, his arms, his legs, his hands, as though checking for broken bones, before she was satisfied that he was okay. “Oh, Jimmy, I was so scared for you!”
Jimmy’s grin was shy but pleased. “I’m okay,” he said gruffly.
“He came around early this morning, looking for a job,” Lenny said. “I heard about him and came down to take a look-see, after what you’d told me, and sure enough, it was him. So I got him a job.”
“A job?” She rose, turning to glare at Lenny. “He’s eleven years old!”
“So?” Lenny was hurt that his good deed was getting short shrift here. “It’s good to get that old work ethic boiling in them early, I always say.”
Her hands went to her hips as she faced him, anger evident in every word, every gesture. “But a job with a casino?”
“Look, he’s not working for the casino, because that would be illegal, even though he claims to be sixteen.” Lenny wagged a finger at the boy. “He’s working for a man we contract some of this work to. So we can’t be held responsible now.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Even though you got him the job.”
Lenny didn’t seem to understand why she was criticizing him. He’d been expecting praise. “Well, you asked me to take care of him! What else was I supposed to do?”
Jessie’s glare slowly dissolved into a grin. She wasn’t really angry with Lenny, but he sure was easy to rile. Her grin faded as she looked down at Jimmy. “Did you find your mother?” she asked anxiously.
He avoided her eyes and shook his head. She stared at him, then turned to Lenny. “Could you give us a few minutes alone?” she asked. “I’ve got to talk seriously to this boy. He needs to make some plans.”
“Sure,” Lenny allowed obligingly. “I’ll be in the next room. Come on in when you’re finished.”
When Lenny was gone, Jessie sat down beside Jimmy on a cardboard box. She looked at his dark hair, much in need of a haircut, at his pug nose and his long black eyelashes. “I’ve missed you,” she said. “I ran all over the Strip looking for you last night.”
He appeared surprised. “I thought you’d be glad I was gone.”
“What? Why would you think a thing like that?”
He hesitated. “You said...”
She waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence. “What is it, Jimmy? What did I say?”
He squared his shoulders and stared at the gray wall before them. “That I’d better go before they thought Michael kidnapped me, too.”
“Oh, Jimmy.” She couldn’t believe such an offhand remark could have sparked his running away. She touched his hair. “No, honey, that wasn’t what I meant. I never meant for you to run off. We both loved having you with us. Don’t you know that?”
He hung his head and didn’t answer.
“Only, your mother has to be so worried about you. Jimmy, we’ve got to find her. Do you have any idea how we could get in touch with her?”
Jimmy didn’t move, didn’t say a thing.
A horrible thought came to Jessie. “You didn’t run away from home, did you, or anything like that?”
He shook his head, but he still wouldn’t look her in the eye.
Her heart ached for him. She wanted desperately to help him, but she couldn’t do anything until she knew what the problem was. Reaching out, she stroked his hair lightly. “What is it, honey? Please tell me.”
He looked at her, started to speak, then turned away again.
“Jimmy,” she said softly, putting an arm around his thin shoulders. “Where’s your mother?”
His face was hard as stone. “In heaven,” he said shortly. “She’s been dead for two years.”
White agony shot through Jessie. She closed her eyes. This was something that had never occurred to her. “But Jimmy, you said...”
His little body was stiff now, as though he didn’t want her arm around his shoulders or her hand in his hair. He wanted to be left alone. His posture, his face, said, Don’t touch me. “I told you I had a mother like I tell everyone. I didn’t want you to turn me in to a government agency or something.” He looked at her bravely, his lower lip protruding. “I can take care of myself. I move with the migrant workers. There are some fami
lies that let me stay with them. Nobody asks where my parents are. I do the work and nobody asks.”
“Your father...?”
“I never knew my father. I don’t even know his name.”
The pain, the vulnerability were clear behind the mask of toughness. He was still a little boy. A little boy in trouble.
“Oh, Jimmy.” She pulled him to her and held him tight, despite his resistance. His little body lost some of its stiffness. He’s going to learn to hug, Jessie thought, determination steeling her will. I’m going to teach him. She drew back and stared at him. “You don’t have anyone? No brothers, no sisters, no aunts, no uncles?”
“No one.”
She took his hand in hers. “Will you come with me?” she asked. “Will you come and try living on my ranch with me? Just to see how you like it.”
Hope leaped in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. It was obvious he’d been disappointed before and he was wary of investing too much of himself in anyone. He shrugged. “I guess I could try it,” he said. Then he looked up into her eyes. “Do you have a dog?” he asked.
She felt a welling up of emotion, but she held it back, smiling at him. “We’ve got dogs and horses and cows and chickens. You’re going to like it.”
His little face was still under tight control. “I’ll do work to pay for my keep,” he said firmly. “I’m a good worker.”
“I’m sure you are.” Her voice was starting to shake, and she knew it was time to get out of there before she fell apart. “Come on.” She got up, blinking back tears. She took his hand. “Let’s go find Lenny.”
“Jessie.” Jimmy’s hand curled inside hers, snuggling comfortably. “When we get to the ranch, will you bake me chocolate chip cookies like the moms do on TV?”
That did it. To think that he had no mother to do those simple things, that he watched television and dreamed of having a home like those he saw portrayed—she had to turn her face away so he wouldn’t see the tears. “Sure, Jimmy. Sure I will,” she answered while digging for a handkerchief and walking rapidly away.
They found Lenny in the next room, flirting with a waitress. Jessie didn’t hesitate a moment before barging up and ruining his fun. “You’ve got to take care of Jimmy for me,” she said sternly, leading him away.
“What?” His thin face expressed raw horror. He looked from Jimmy to Jessie and back again. “But I—“
“And no ‘jobs.’ You take him to a room with a television and books to read and keep him there until I get back.”
“Aw, come on, Jessie...”
“You’ve got to do it. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” There was no time left to wait for Lenny’s contacts to come through, or anything else. Now that she’d found Jimmy, she had to make sure Michael made it alive through another day.
She looked down at Jimmy and touched his cheek, smiling at him. She’d never felt this sort of tenderness toward another human being. Toward newborn foals, maybe. But never toward a human. Jimmy was special and she was going to make sure nothing ever hurt him again. Tearing herself away, she started for the door.
“Come on, buddy,” Lenny was saying. “God, did you ever think she’d turn out to be such a pushy broad?”
Jessie remembered something and whipped back, calling, “And Lenny, no naked ladies!”
The disappoin
tment on Jimmy’s face was comical to see, but Jessie didn’t feel like laughing. Too many things were happening too fast.
Hurrying outside, she hailed a cab, adjusting her wig as she sank into the back seat. She showed the driver the address on the yellow paper Sam had given her. If she couldn’t find Michael, at least she could try to find Kerry.
The apartment building was new and very modern, southwestern cream-colored adobe against blue tiles and tinted glass. Kerry Carter’s apartment was on the second floor. Jessie climbed the wrought-iron stairway and tried to still the hammering of her heart.
She would knock on the door, she told herself. Kerry would answer. She would say, “Hi, I’m Jessie Carrington. Michael Drayton is a friend of mine. He needs your help.” And they would go on from there.
Simple. Clean. To the point. How could the man refuse? Together they would call the police and get this whole thing straightened out, Michael could stop running and...?
That was the black hole, the terror she refused to look in the face. There was not a doubt in her mind that Michael would eventually convince everyone of his innocence. But what then? What would happen once Michael was free to go back to his life in San Francisco? The knot twisted inside her and she winced at the pain.
Number 242. She checked the paper, then walked up to the door. It was slightly ajar. “Hello?” she called, rapping lightly with her knuckles. The door swung in another foot. No one answered. “Is anyone home?” she called again, pushing the door a bit more and leaning inside to get a look around. “Hello!”
The apartment was starkly furnished and the drapes were partly closed, leaving the room dark and gloomy looking. There was only a chair and a small table in sight. And a body lying on the floor.
All the air went out of Jessie’s lungs and she couldn’t seem to get it back. A body. A man. She had to go closer. She had to look. What if it was... ?
No, it wasn’t. She’d never seen this man before, and that was good, because he was very dead. There was blood. She didn’t want to look again; she only wanted to breathe. She backed away, her hands to her face. Suddenly there were arms around her from behind.
“Michael,” she gasped, turning, but it wasn’t Michael. It was Bob Taylor, and he was holding her tightly, but looking over her head at the body in the middle of the floor.
“Is this the guy Michael thought would help clear him?” he asked her dispassionately.
She nodded, still gasping for breath. “I think so,” she managed to say.
“Let’s get you out of here.” He led her out onto the corridor. Other policemen were coming up the stairs and he motioned for them to go on into the apartment. Gently he pulled off the blond wig, taking out the pins that held it in place. Her own hair tumbled free around her shoulders.
She looked up at him, her pale face anxious. “Where’s Michael?”
“I was hoping you knew that.”
She shook her head, shuddering.
“That’s too bad. We’ve been following you all over town and I figured you wouldn’t have been wandering around that way if you actually knew where you were going.”
She gazed at him foggily. “You knew?”
“That you were wearing the blond wig? Sure we knew. We counted on it.”
She nodded. She should have known. She only wished it had worked out as he’d planned, and that she’d led him right to Michael. At least he would be safe. The way things stood, she had no idea where he was.
“I have to go,” she said, pulling away from Bob.
He held on to her arm. “You can’t go. You’re in no condition—“
“I have to. I have to find Michael.”
He slowly released her. Assessing the situation and the look in her eyes, he decided it was the best way. Reaching into his pocket, he took out another of his cards and quickly scribbled a telephone number on it. “Call me when you find him,” he said. “Okay?”
She accepted the card and stared at it for a long moment. Then she looked up into his eyes. “Okay,” she said. “That’s what I’ll do.”
She turned and went down the stairs. He watched her go, shaking his head. She would call. He could read the signs. He only hoped she would find Michael before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Worm At The Heart Of It
“Perfect timing,” Lenny said when she arrived back at the Nargeant suite. “Michael’s here.”
“Oh!” She swayed and Lenny caught hold of her shoulders. “He’s all right then.”
“Sure. Hey, baby, what’s the matter, anyway?”
She swallowed and leaned against Lenny for support. “Kerry Carter is dead,” she said. “I just came from his apartment. He’s dead, and I was so worried about Michael....”
“No sweat.” Lenny pushed her down into a chair and called out to a passing employee for some water. “Michael’s in talking to Mr. Nargeant.” He leaned close and whispered, “I think he’s working on the old man to help him fight Sky Matthews. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No more fighting. I’ve got to talk to him.”
Lenny looked concerned. Somehow this didn’t sound like the cowgirl he knew. The girl arrived with the water and he offered it to Jessie.
“Here, drink some of this and calm down a little. That was rough, I’ll bet, seeing that guy dead and all.” He hesitated, watching her sip the water. “Do you want to go lie down or something?”
She looked up and tried to smile. “You’re being very sweet, Lenny,” she said. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me over the past two days. I never would have thought...” Her voice trailed off and her eyes took on a vacant look.
Lenny watched for a moment, frowning, then left the room. When he came back he had Michael with him.
Jessie rose quickly when she saw him. He erased the distance between them in a heartbeat and then he was holding her hard against his chest.
“Michael, Kerry...”
“I heard. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Michael.” She looked around the room, glad to see Lenny had left them alone. “Michael, there’s no time to lose. You’ve got to turn yourself in now.”
He let her go as though she’d suddenly become repugnant to him. “Jessie, I’ve explained to you again and again that I can’t do that.”
She shook her head vehemently. “There’s no longer any choice, Michael. People are getting killed.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? I’m not so sure about that.”
“Sit down, Jessie.”
“Michael...”
“I said sit down. I’m going to explain something to you.”
She sank to the edge of the chair, hardly listening. She had to find a way to convince him. There was no turning back.
“Jessie, this isn’t just a case of clearing my own name. Surely you know that by now. Sky Matthews hurt me, hurt my family beyond repair. You remember how Bud Harvey hurt you, and how you needed to get revenge? That’s the way I feel about Sky Matthews. I realize now that he was the worm eating away at the heart of my family from the beginning. He used my father to launder his dirty money. He used my mother to get at Drayton heirlooms. God knows what else he did to make us miserable right from the start. And he tried to destroy me.” He took her shoulders in his strong hands. “I can’t let this pass, Jessie. I can’t sit around and wait for trials and tell my story and have no one believe it. And most of all, I can’t spend any more time in jail. That’s a sort of death in itself. I’d rather die fighting than be locked up again.”
He stared into her empty eyes. “You don’t understand, do you?” he said softly. “You aren’t even listening to what I’m saying.” His hands slid down her arms and back again. “Jessie, Jessie, what can I do to make you see? I talk and talk and you just won’t understand.”
Michael was wrong. She understood only too well. It was ironic, really. She’d waited all these years for the man s
he could love, and when he came along, she thought he was a city slicker. Only she’d been sorely mistaken. Michael might think of himself as an urban sophisticate, but he was a cowboy at heart. Just an old dumb cowboy who let his instincts of right and wrong and a man’s duty rule his brain and common sense. What a laugh.
“Michael,” she said evenly. “When I went to Bud Harvey’s house with my shotgun, I was doing something awful. Something even worse than what he did to me. I thank God I saw him with his wife and baby girl. If I’d shot that man, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. And I would have paid. I would have spent time in prison myself.” She touched his face and spoke passionately. “Don’t you see? That’s what will happen if you go on with this. If by some miracle you come out alive, you’ll have done things you can never take back. Hurt people.” She shook her head. “It won’t bring you peace. It will only bring you sorrow.”
“Do you have peace over the Bud Harvey business?” he demanded. “Do you?”
She hesitated. He knew she didn’t. She still smarted, still yearned for some form of revenge. “Some things you just have to live with,” she said shakily.
“Not me.” He rose and stood over her. “Not me, Jessie. I don’t have to live with this and I won’t. You should have gone back to the ranch when I told you to. Maybe now you will. Now that you know there’s nothing left for you here.”
He half turned, then looked back for a moment uncertainly. “Goodbye, Jessie,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”
“Goodbye, Michael,” she whispered, but he’d already left the room. “I’ve got work to do, too.”
Michael stepped back into Nargeant’s office and sank into the chair across the desk from the man. “Sorry about that,” he said gruffly. “I had to make sure Jessie was all right.”
“Of course.” Mr. Nargeant smiled, folding his hands before him. “I think we’ve covered the preliminaries. You’ve told me all you know. I’ve told you all I know. And I’ve made up my mind.”
Michael looked at him expectantly. “Well?” he said, not bothering to hide his impatience.
