‘Wrong?’ Cathy contested. ‘There’s more to marriage than sex. A man can arrange that. And we had so much going for us. Shared pastimes and interests, and a deep caring for each other that never wavered.’ A return of the old bitterness sparked in the melting sadness of her eyes. ‘If Phil had been given more time, I know that things would have sorted themselves out.’
‘Oh, Cathy,’ Lindsay despaired. Cathy was still vindictive toward Nick Farraday for what she considered to be his part in Phil’s death. How misguided she was! Couldn’t she see that the tragedy that had occurred had been the result of their own shortcomings, hers and Phil’s? Perhaps she didn’t want to see . . . Perhaps she dared not see the truth because it might weigh too heavily on her conscience.
The final piece of the puzzle had clicked into place for Lindsay—the reason why Phil had sought the company of other women. There was no guarantee that her weak and fun-loving brother wouldn’t have succumbed anyway, but the odds had gone heavily against him once Cathy had barred him from her bed following Stephanie’s birth. Why hadn’t Cathy been more reasonable and understood that a man couldn’t wait indefinitely? Why hadn’t Phil been more patient and understanding with Cathy and earned his way back into her bed with tender caring?
‘I’m glad things are better for you,’ Lindsay said generously.
‘Yes, so am I. I don’t know if anything will develop between me and Jim, but that’s not the important point. What is important is the way I felt last night. We talked and danced, and I didn’t freeze up on him. Not only that, I found myself responding to a man. It’s been such a long time, I’d forgotten what it was like to have those kinds of feelings.’
‘As I said, I’m glad for you, Cathy. I truly am. We should have talked sooner.’
Soon enough for Lindsay to have salvaged some happiness for herself.
The following day she thought about going round to see Nick and try to put things right. She spent almost the entire morning rehearsing things to say, but nothing sounded appropriate.
When the phone rang and, on lifting the receiver, she heard his voice, she said hurriedly, ‘I was going to ring you, only I couldn’t think of anything to say.’
‘That does sound like a logical reason for not ringing. If you didn’t have anything to say, there wouldn’t have been much point in calling, would there?’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Why hadn’t she let him say why he was phoning her?
‘I tried to phone you yesterday, during the day. I was tied up last night. A business dinner that went on and on.’
She wondered if his secretary, the cool and luscious Barbara Bates, had accompanied him. ‘I was out . . . with Cathy. We went on a shopping spree—for her, not for me, although I did see one dress I couldn’t resist. And then Cathy treated me to lunch.’
‘And no doubt injected you with another dose of her poison about me.’
‘No, Nick, although we did talk. I admit that in the past I’ve swallowed too much of her poison, but not anymore. And yesterday I got a clearer picture of things, a better understanding of what motivated Phil. Even though I don’t condone what he did, at least I can understand why he did it. I can even see the reasoning behind Cathy’s misguided attitude.’
‘That’s progress, to admit that you consider her attitude misguided.’
‘Did you want something special, Nick?’ Lindsay asked, a great sadness engulfing her at Nick’s polite, clipped tone. He was too formal, too far away.
‘I wanted to tell you that I know you weren’t responsible for the leak in the Hot Sauce column.’
‘You know I wasn’t!’ Lindsay’s breath rushed out of her. ‘That implies that you know who was!’
‘Yes. The culprit owned up. It was Luisa.’
‘Why would she do such a thing? Of course! She didn’t want me in the first place, so she thought that if she let something get out, you would have to drop me.’ She frowned. It was obvious that Luisa was the kind of woman who liked to get her own way, but it was unthinkable that she would resort to such tactics. Furthermore, wasn’t Luisa her friend? ‘Luisa didn’t know we’d been dancing together,’ Lindsay pointed out.
‘No. But Maisie Pellman’s spies are everywhere. Everything I do is considered an interesting tidbit. She would have known that I’d been seen dancing somewhat intimately with a blonde—and made the natural connection. Luisa had another reason for doing what she did besides wanting you off the promotion.’
‘Oh?’
‘I think we should talk about it, but not over the phone.’
‘About whether I’m on or off the promotion? Do you want me to come round to your office?’
‘No, my office isn’t the place, either. In any case, I’ve got a fairly heavy schedule. What color is it?’
‘What color is what?’
‘The dress you bought.’
‘Oh . . . multicolored. Yellow and pink and blue.’
‘Would you like to give it an airing this evening? I’d like to take you out for a meal. We could talk things over then.’
‘Yes, all right.’
‘I’ll call for you around seven-thirty.’
‘Fine.’
She put down the receiver, wondering how it was possible to be both jubilant and sad at the same time. She was happy at the thought of seeing Nick again, but her heart was breaking at the gulf his politeness had put between them. She knew what he was leading up to. He was going to tell her that she was off the promotion, she was certain of that. After tonight she might never see him again.
How often she’d gibed at his pompous, overbearing manner; how ironic that it was that Nick whom she wanted back! She didn’t know this polite stranger at all, this Nick who was intent on pushing her out of his life.
For the rest of the day she couldn’t concentrate on anything; she longed for the moment when she could start getting ready. Driven by her own impatience, and remembering that the last time he’d come early, she began her preparations much too soon and was ready by six-thirty. Silly of her, because she didn’t know how well her new dress would stand up to wrinkles, and she didn’t want to sit for long and spoil its crisp freshness.
She prowled around, her living room seeming more cramped than ever. But it wasn’t as crowded as the thoughts rushing round in her brain. She kept thinking how wonderful she had felt in Nick’s arms, and she wondered at the control he’d exercised to draw back from the brink of love-making. It was all her fault. She’d held back too long, and she’d lost him.
A knock sounded on the door and her eyes went to the clock. It was still a quarter short of seven, and Nick had said seven-thirty. She was right in thinking that he’d be early, but he was even earlier than she’d expected.
She raced to open the door, her smile of welcome freezing into politeness when she saw not Nick, but two men she’d never set eyes on before. One was tall and dark haired. The other man, though shorter, was the more thick-set of the two, and he had sandy-colored hair.
She couldn’t explain why, but a feeling of deep unease ran through her. She cast a hasty glance down the stairs and along the passageway to the next apartment, her heart dropping when she saw no one about.
‘I’m sorry, but whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not interested in buying,’ she said in firm dismissal.
‘Selling? We’re not selling anything, lady,’ the dark-haired man said, the smile on his lips chilling her.
‘What do you want?’ she asked in as cool and collected a voice as she could muster.
‘Just for you to come for a ride with us.’
‘No way!’
She attempted to slam the door in their smirking faces, but the sandy-haired man moved forward to impose his bulk in the doorway.
His friend, who seemed to have taken on the job of spokesman, said, ‘You don’t understand. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.’
‘And I’m telling the pair of you to get lost. What in heaven’s name is this all about?’
‘I’ll expla
in everything as we go, lady, if I decide explanation is necessary.’
Things came flooding back to her. At the very beginning, when Nick’s interest in her had been purely business, he’d said something about moving her into an apartment where she’d be protected. ‘You’ll be a hot property. As such you’ll require some form of protection,’ he’d said. And more recently he had murmured about the piece in the Hot Sauce column making her vulnerable. Was this what he had meant?
Was this an attempted kidnapping? She couldn’t see how these men had figured out that she was of any value, but yes, this was a kidnap bid!
‘No!’ Lindsay gasped in stunned disbelief. It was too ludicrous. She’d been watching too much television. It couldn’t be.
‘Oh, yes, lady,’ the dark-haired man said. ‘I figured you for an intelligent chick. I knew you’d get there eventually.’
‘But why?’
‘Money. What else?’
‘I know that. But there won’t be any money in this.’
‘No? That’s just your opinion. It’s our belief that Nick Farraday will pay handsomely.’
‘No, he won’t. His interest in me was leaked to the press. I’m off the promotion now. But even if that weren’t so, you wouldn’t get any ransom for me. I’m not that valuable. Another girl would be assigned in my place.’
‘Sorry, lady. Good try. But we have it on the best authority that Nick Farraday’s interest in you is the kind of business done between the sheets. Apparently you’re special enough to him that he’ll pay whatever we ask. No accounting for taste, though; I go for a well stacked chick every time, myself.’
The sandy-haired man spoke for the first time. ‘Cut the talk. We’re wasting time.’
Wasting time was just what Lindsay wanted. Every moment they delayed brought Nick nearer. She just prayed that he would be early, that he’d get there soon enough to save her. She didn’t know what price they’d put on her, or whether Nick would pay up before calling the police in. She thought the latter possibility more likely. Nick wasn’t the type to be intimidated by thugs. But where would that leave her? Even when a ransom was paid, kidnap victims didn’t always escape with their lives. She was suddenly very, very frightened.
‘Please go away. I won’t report this, and I promise not to remember your faces, if you’ll just leave.’
Oh, God, why hadn’t they covered their faces? And why had she just said such a dumb thing? She knew that they weren’t going to depart quietly, and that she’d just signed her death warrant by drawing attention to the fact that she could identify them.
Squaring her jaw at them, Lindsay said, ‘You won’t get away with it. You can’t believe you’ll be able to walk out of this building without fuss. Someone’s bound to be about, and I’m not going to go quietly. Use your common sense, please.’
‘Use yours, lady. If you love thy neighbor, as the good book tells you to, you’ll be as quiet as the grave. Otherwise you’ll assist anyone who tries to stop us into their own grave. You see, I’ve got a little friend in my pocket who’ll help. I’m not a man of violence, and I’ll only use my gun if provoked, so don’t provoke me,’ he advised menacingly.
Not a man of violence indeed! He was enjoying this; they both were!
She refused to let them know how scared she was. ‘Don’t quote the Bible to me, you heathen.’
She felt sick, and her nausea increased tenfold as they each grabbed an arm and began to hustle her out.
‘At least let me get my coat.’
But was she wise in stalling? She wanted Nick to get there in time to know what was happening to her, but she didn’t want him to get hurt. Her abductor might have been bluffing when he said he was armed, but then again, he might not have been. This was rather an audacious scheme, and they must have had some reason to think they could pull it off. The sinking feeling in her stomach increased as she realized the probability that they were both carrying weapons of some sort. Nick wouldn’t stand a chance against two armed and desperate men.
‘You don’t need a coat. We’ll put the heater on in the car. You can have it just as hot as you want, lady.’ She read in his eyes exactly what he meant, even before he put it into words. ‘If you don’t make a murmur, you won’t get hurt. You’ll have a nice comfortable hideout until your boyfriend pays up.’
I’ll bet, Lindsay gritted silently. She was suddenly more furious than she was frightened. She certainly wasn’t going to let them take her without putting up a fight. She kicked all the way down the stairs and tried to bite the hand that was clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Most of her kicks missed, but at least two landed on target and brought grunts of pain. It was a miracle, or a misfortune, that they managed to keep their balance and that she didn’t bring all three of them crashing down the stairs.
‘I told you it was lunacy. We should have bided our time,’ the taller man said.
‘And let this fish slip through the net? Remember, we were told to act fast. Just leave it to me,’ his sandy-haired friend replied.
Lindsay wasn’t left long to ponder about what he meant. Something crashed against the back of her head, leaving her just short of unconscious. As she slumped, her stomach froze at the cruelty and ruthless determination of her captors.
The rest of the nightmare flight down the stairs and into the street passed in a painful haze. She was aware of people passing them, but no one stopped to help her. Instead, they just walked on, minding their own business. Wasn’t anyone curious to know why two men were propping up one worse-for-wear female? She tried to call out, to make someone pay attention. She felt as if she were shouting, but only a trace of sound came from her mouth.
‘You all right, miss?’ someone finally asked.
‘No . . . call . . .’
‘Thanks, buddy, but she’s okay,’ one of the thugs, the dark-haired one, cut in. ‘Bit of a celebration. A drop too much to drink. You know how it is.’
‘Don’t I just!’
‘She’ll be as right as rain once we get her home.’
The man was taken in. In a second he was gone.
They had now stopped by a car apparently belonging to the thugs.
‘You’ll be fine now, honey. We’ll soon have you home, and then you’ll be able to sleep it off,’ the dark-haired one said, keeping up the charade.
Someone chuckled and called out jovially, ‘Rather her than me. Wouldn’t want her hangover when she wakes up.’
And then a noise, a commotion, alerted her to glance farther along the pavement. Miraculously, she saw Nick running toward them, knocking people out of the way in his haste. They wouldn’t shoot him down and add murder to their crime, she speculated, not with so many people there to witness the offense. Her heart hammering, she made one last attempt to free herself, feeling that her prayers had been answered. But she was worn out. Her strength lagged sadly behind her will, and her madly struggling body was thrown into the back of the car. The dark-haired man came in beside her, and his partner in crime took the wheel.
He wouldn’t be able to move until a gap appeared to let him into the moving stream of cars. She prayed that the traffic would stay bumper-to-bumper. The sandy-haired man pulled on the steering wheel, intent on forcing his way out. He wasn’t waiting for his chance; he was creating it. A slamming on of brakes from the car behind and he was in. The noisy revving of the car engine filled her ears. Nick was so close now, but not close enough. She gulped down her dismay and anguish. He couldn’t possibly save her now.
Surely, though, he would be alert enough to take the car’s license plate number and notify the police. But somehow she felt that the thugs had guarded against that happening. She wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that there was another car waiting for them before they’d travelled very far. The sandy-haired man had said, ‘Remember, we were told to act fast’—indicating that someone else was involved. Her mind spun at the hopelessness of her predicament.
What happened then was even more incredible than t
he events so far. She saw Nick cut through the moving traffic and take a flying leap into the air. Then his face appeared at the windshield. He had actually jumped onto the hood of the car, and was blocking the driver’s visibility while hanging on for grim death. It could very well be grim death—his own!
There was a jangled squeal of brakes and a grinding of mangled metal, punctuated by obscenities shouted out by her two captors. Then everything faded as she fell into a black pit of unconsciousness.
She edged back into awareness with the realization that her face and body were throbbing painfully, and that she was still in the back of the car. Now, however, the arm round her shoulders wasn’t restraining her, but comforting her. She looked up, in her muzziness expecting to see Nick’s dear and familiar features. Her heart all but stopped at the sight of a stranger’s face.
‘Who are you?’
‘The name’s Cliff. I was passing by and volunteered to stay with you.’
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was sure Nick was dead. He couldn’t possibly have done what he had and still be alive. The crazy, heroic fool! Why hadn’t he let her take her chances? What good was life if he wouldn’t be there to share it with her?
‘Where do you hurt?’ Cliff asked in deep concern.
‘Inside.’
‘A doctor will be here soon.’
She shook her head. ‘No, not that kind of hurt. Nick . . . He’s . . . ?’ She couldn’t bring herself to go on.
‘Oh, I understand. If Nick’s your man, he’s doing fine, and could do better if they’d let him. You don’t have to worry about him—or yourself while he’s around. It took six guys to hold him back and stop him from beating the hell out of those two hoodlums. But not before he’d managed to drop a couple of nice shots on both of them. I don’t think either of those ruffians will ever tangle with him or his ever again.’
Instead of stopping, her tears came faster. The stranger seemed to understand.
‘A natural reaction. Let it come. Get it all out of your system. There, there.’
She liked the things the stranger said, the assumption that she belonged to Nick and was under his protection.
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