Blackfoot Affair

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Blackfoot Affair Page 12

by Doreen Owens Malek


  “I’m not a weatherman,” he said, shrugging. “Sue me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Marisa flung herself on him and they both tumbled onto the suede couch to the left of the door.

  “Who needs sunshine?” he said.

  “Not us.” They lay together and listened to the rain drumming on the roof of the A-frame house. “What does your friend do for a living?” Marisa asked. “This place reeks of money.”

  “Actually, he doesn’t do much. I think he inherited most of it. His father invented something and it’s kept them all in the chips for about fifty years.”

  “What did his father invent?”

  “Some kind of aquarium cover.”

  Marisa sat up, staring down at him. “An aquarium cover?” she said incredulously.

  “I’m serious. It allows the fish to breathe, or be fed through it, or something. Pet stores and zoos use it. I’m telling you, the thing was a big hit.”

  Marisa started to giggle, and then laughed out loud. “The house the fish feeder built,” she said, gesturing to the walls.

  “This ain’t the half of it, honey. You haven’t seen the family house in Jacksonville, the co-op in New York, or the flat in Paris.”

  “How did you meet this guy?”

  “School,” he said, offhandedly.

  “Oh. The prep school where you didn’t fit in too well.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “And he befriended you.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?”

  “Well, he would have felt secure in that environment, so it stands to reason he’d be the one sticking up for you. Am I right?”

  “You know a lot about human nature, don’t you?” he said, pulling her down next to him again.

  Marisa shrugged, embarrassed.

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “He did help me a lot. He was my roommate in college too. It was his wife you saw me with in the hotel dining room that night we...”

  “Made fools of ourselves?” Marisa suggested.

  He grinned. “You were jealous, weren’t you? When you thought she was my date.”

  “I was not,” Marisa said indignantly, snuggling into his side and sighing contentedly.

  “Tell the truth.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He chuckled.

  “Aren’t you pleased with yourself? That’s exactly what you were trying to accomplish, right?”

  “I was having dinner with a friend, give me a break!”

  “You knew what I would think, and that’s precisely what you wanted me to think. You could at least be honest about it.”

  He threw his head back and closed his eyes. “Oh, all right, all right. I was trying to make you jealous. Are you happy now?”

  “Very childish of you, Jackson.”

  “Yes, I know. But effective. I knew you needed a little push in the right direction and I supplied it.”

  “You knew?”

  “I hoped.”

  “That’s better.” Marisa rolled over and looked at the ceiling. “What are all those little caps up there?” she asked, pointing.

  “Recessed lighting.”

  “Please. I may not be the editor of Architectural Digest, but I’ve seen recessed lighting. That’s not it.”

  “I’m serious. You press one of those white buttons over there on the wall and all the little caps open up, and lights emerge on aluminum stalks, like in a science fiction movie.”

  Marisa propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

  “Try it,” he said.

  Marisa jumped up and ran to the panel he had indicated. She pressed the top button and the floor length drapes swooshed closed across the glass doors.

  “Wrong button,” Jack said from the couch, unnecessarily.

  She pressed the second button and a television set emerged from the wall next to the fireplace.

  “It’s the third one down on the left,” Jack said, in a tone of exaggerated patience.

  Marisa located the right button and all the ceiling caps receded simultaneously with a low whirring sound.

  “Look at that,” she said in amazement. “Does your friend have an aversion to track lighting?”

  “His father doesn’t like to see lamps during the daytime when he doesn’t need them.”

  “Eccentric millionaires,” Marisa sighed. “What does the rest of this place look like?”

  “I will be happy to provide a tour,” Jack said, standing and throwing his arms wide.

  Marisa scurried to fall into step beside him.

  “On your right,” he said, in the ringing tones of a museum guide, “you will find the space age kitchen, complete with trash compactor, double stainless steel sink, and walk-in refrigerator.”

  “Who needs a walk-in refrigerator? Is somebody studying forensic medicine?”

  “Don’t interrupt the guide,” Jack said.

  “Sorry.”

  “Pantry,” Jack said, gesturing with one hand, “and laundry room,” he added, gesturing with the other.

  “Very impressive.”

  Jack walked across the glazed tile floor to indicate the dining room, which featured a pegged pine floor, a dazzling art deco chandelier, and a hand knotted rug which looked as if it were loomed the day before it settled on the gleaming boards.

  “Just a trifle nouveau riche, don’t you think, Jackson?” Marisa asked, sniffing.

  “I don’t know about the nouveau, but definitely riche.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the living room they had just vacated. “And you saw the rest in there, the matched skin couches and chairs, the Mexican marble cocktail tables, the natural stone fireplace, the Jackson Pollock on the wall.”

  “I have only one question,” Marisa said.

  “Yes?”

  “Where’s the bedroom?”

  He crooked his finger. “Follow me.”

  The open spiral staircase led to a second floor loft and a series of guest rooms down the hall. There was another fireplace on the exterior wall of the loft and a second deck overlooking the ocean.

  “Nice digs,” she commented.

  “It’s okay, if you like luxury,” Jack replied.

  The loft was furnished with a vintage Shaker set with a peg post king bed, bleached pine end tables and a standing armoire. The bathroom leading off it had a Jacuzzi tub and an oversized shower stall with a frosted glass enclosure.

  “Come back here,” Jack called, as Marisa disappeared through the door.

  She came back and stood in the doorway.

  “Let’s see if this mattress works,” he said.

  She ran and jumped up on him, and they fell on top of the down comforter.

  “What’s this you’re wearing?” he asked, tugging on her collar impatiently.

  “It’s called a blouse. You remember it, Jackson. You took it off me last night too.”

  He unbuttoned it efficiently and threw it on the floor.

  “So much for that,” she said contentedly.

  He disposed of the rest of her clothes in the same manner and then lay next to her, tracing the line of her hip with his forefinger.

  “Is this a physical?” she said. “Should I have brought my insurance information?”

  He bent and took her nipple in his mouth.

  “I guess not,” she sighed.

  “I hope your doctor doesn’t do this to you,” he murmured, running his hand up the inside of her thigh.

  Marisa put her arms around his neck and drew him on top of her, locking her legs around him.

  “I’m going to say something to you that I’ve never said to another man,” she whispered, licking the shell of his ear.

  “What’s that?”

  “Take off your clothes.’‘

  “You’ll have to let me go.”

  “Just for a moment,” she said.

  He stood and stripped as she watched greedily, then dove back onto the bed, embracing her immediately.

&nb
sp; “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she said, arching her back as he ran a trail of kisses down her neck.

  “That’s not saying much. I’m the only man you’ve ever seen.”

  “I didn’t mean naked, I meant... in general.”

  “How about in specific?” he said thickly, guiding her hand to enclose him.

  “That, too,” Marisa replied, caressing him.

  He groaned and pressed her back into the bed.

  “Now,” she said urgently.

  He obeyed.

  * * *

  Marisa saw Jack every day until the day before court hearings began again. On the morning that the case was due to resume she wore a pink dress with a shawl collar and paired it with navy shoes and purse. She was fastening her earrings when Tracy came through the door.

  “You look so nice! Ain’t love grand?” she said.

  “I’m discovering that it is.”

  “Just remember whose side you’re on,” Tracy said warningly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Marisa asked, glancing at Tracy in the hotel mirror.

  “Well, you might be affected by your feelings for Jack, don’t you think?”

  “I’m trying very hard to keep the two situations completely separate,” Marisa replied.

  “Good luck.”

  “Tracy, don’t make this any more difficult for me. I’m nervous enough as it is,” Marisa said, picking up her briefcase.

  Tracy nodded, looking away.

  “And send that file over to the clerk as soon as it’s ready,” Marisa added as she left.

  Tracy looked after her thoughtfully but said nothing.

  * * *

  As soon as Marisa arrived in court that day she knew that something was wrong. Jack, seated at the NFN desk, would not meet her eyes. His whole demeanor was stiff and unyielding. Ben Brady, on the other hand, looked positively exuberant. Marisa took her seat, her heart pounding, wondering desperately what was happening.

  “All rise,” the clerk called as Judge Lasky made his entrance.

  Marisa stared at Jack as the clerk announced the case and docket number.

  “Mr. Brady?” Judge Lasky said, rattling papers on the bench.

  “Your honor, I would petition the court to grant a summary judgment for my client, the organization known as Natives for Nature.”

  Marisa stared at him, thunderstruck. What the hell was this?

  Lasky raised his brows wearily. “Mr. Brady, I warn you. This had better be good.”

  “Your honor, this past Friday, a representative from the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Department of the Interior, a Mr. Randall Block, attempted to bribe me.”

  There was a stir in the courtroom. Marisa stared at Jack’s back, which was ramrod straight.

  Lasky banged his gavel.

  “That’s a serious accusation, Mr. Brady,” Lasky said, when all was quiet again. “Please elucidate.”

  “I was offered a considerable sum of money to convince the NFN to drop this suit, so that the federal government could proceed with the highway without opposition and without delay.”

  “I see. There will be a short recess while I consider the situation. Counsel will approach the bench.” He banged the gavel again.

  The courtroom erupted into sound as Marisa, still in a state of shock, rose in obedience. She turned as she passed to look at Jack.

  One glance at his stony face told her that he was convinced she was a party to the bribery attempt.

  Chapter 7

  “Mr. Brady, were these dramatics really necessary?” Judge Lasky said with obvious restraint to the NFN counsel, when both lawyers were standing in front of the bench.

  “Your honor...” Brady began.

  Lasky waved his hand dismissively. “You could have approached me in chambers about this and handled it quietly. But then the press would not have been racing for the courtroom doors at this very moment, isn’t that right?”

  Brady tried, and failed, to look chastised.

  Lasky sighed. “Mr. Brady, it would be well for you to remember that I am sixty-four years old and have been practicing law for forty of those years. No matter what you try to pull, I have seen it all before, many times. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Brady said, with as much humility as he could muster.

  Lasky turned his gaze on Marisa, who was standing, dumbstruck, at Brady’s side.

  “Ms. Hancock, I suppose you know nothing about this charge of bribery that Mr. Brady has lodged against the representatives of the federal government?”

  Marisa cleared her throat. “No, your honor.”

  “I was sure not,” Lasky said dryly.

  “I intend to investigate this incident thoroughly...” she began again but Lasky cut her off abruptly.

  “You will do nothing,” Lasky said sharply. “I am declaring a recess while I locate this Mr. uh...” He looked at Brady.

  “Block,” Brady supplied.

  “Block,” Lasky continued, “and get to the bottom of this. And take this warning in advance, Mr. Brady. If I discover you have fabricated any of this for the purposes of delay and/or confusion, your disbarment will begin to look like a very appealing prospect to me.”

  Brady did not look at all worried, which dismayed Marisa further; he must know he was on safe ground.

  Lasky waved them away and looked up at the full court.

  “This court is in recess until.. .” He looked at his calendar. “Thursday, December 18th, at 9:00 a.m. unless you are advised otherwise in the interim,” he concluded.

  The spectators rose to leave, buzzing with renewed speculation. Marisa hurried after Jack, who was already near the door.

  “Jack, wait,” she called.

  He halted but did not turn to look at her.

  Marisa ran around to confront him.

  “Jack, I had nothing to do with any bribe,” she said flatly, her eyes locking with his. “The first I heard of it was this morning in court.”

  He said nothing, but she could see that he did not believe her.

  “Jack, you know me! You’re not going to take the word of some federal flunky you’ve never met over mine, are you?”

  “I’ve met him,” Jack said quietly.

  Marisa stared at him, taken aback. Then she said, “The courtroom next door is empty. Come in there with me for a few minutes and let’s talk.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please?” she said.

  He followed her reluctantly, his mouth set. Once inside, Marisa closed the double doors behind them.

  “Can’t you see what’s happening?” Marisa began. “This guy Block was upset at the way things were going, and he misjudged Brady on the basis of what he observed. Brady is a flamboyant blowhard but he’s honest. Block thought he could slip him some money and Brady would then tell the NFN to drop the case. Instead it backfired and Brady blew the whistle on him. That’s all there is to it.”

  “I’ve seen Block myself,” Jack replied flatly. “When Brady told him he was going to Lasky with this, Block admitted that the whole thing was your idea. You knew you couldn’t win in court so you thought up this clever scheme to come out on top another way.”

  “You don’t actually believe that!” Marisa said, aghast.

  “Why not? It makes sense.”

  “Then where is Block? Let him say this to my face. I want to see him do it!”

  “I’m sure he’s back in Washington, trying to salvage his career. Don’t worry, Lasky will make certain he’s located and questioned to everyone’s satisfaction.” Jack turned to go.

  “Jack, is that all you have to say to me?” Marisa demanded, astonished.

  He looked back at her. “Not quite all. You used me. I still can’t believe I was quite that stupid, but apparently I was. You won’t get the chance to dupe me again.”

  “How did I use you?” Marisa asked, trying desperately to maintain her sanity.

  “You pursued a relationship with me in order
to gain my trust while plotting behind my back,” he said tightly. “Is that clear enough for you?”

  Stinging tears filled Marisa’s eyes. “Jack, how could you think that after...”

  “You slept with me?” Jack finished for her. “Great little convincer, that was. And having your friend Tracy front for you, that was a nice move too.”

  “Front for me?” Marisa gasped.

  “Yes, setting me up with touching stories about your innocence and lack of experience with men. I swallowed it all, didn’t I?”

  Marisa’s distress was turning to anger. “Are you suggesting that I remained a virgin for twenty-eight years in order to entrap you?” she demanded icily.

  “I’m suggesting you manipulated that... situation...in order to make me feel...” he stopped.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “In order to make me feel that you loved me!” he yelled.

  “I do love you,” she wailed.

  “Bull!” he shouted and turned on his heel for the door.

  Marisa ran after him and grabbed his arm. He wheeled and seized her shoulders so hard that she winced.

  “Stay away from me,” he said warningly. “I don’t want to hurt you but I just might, so leave me alone.” He released her suddenly and bolted through the doors before she could say anything else.

  Marisa looked after him despairingly, still trying to absorb what had happened since she arrived at the courthouse that morning.

  * * *

  “What are you doing back so early?” Tracy said, looking up from her pile of notes. Then her expression changed. “My God, you look ghastly. What happened?”

  Marisa told her, as briefly as possible, while Tracy stared at her in appalled silence.

  “I can’t believe it,” Tracy whispered.

  “That makes two of us,” Marisa said, unbuttoning her jacket, still in a state of shock.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea,” Marisa said miserably, wiping her eyes.

  “You have to find Block, that’s the first thing.”

  “I’ve already called the Bureau three times and left messages. His secretary keeps saying that he’s in a meeting.”

  “I’ll bet—what used to be called a lynching party. He never thought Brady would turn him in to Lasky. I knew Block was stupid.”

  “And now he’s trying to bail himself out by saying it was all my idea,” Marisa replied.

 

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