Deadly Charade

by Virna DePaul

  Besides, Dom wasn’t here right now. Linda was. And she was a prosecutor, for God’s sake. Even if someone in her office was dirty, she wasn’t.

  Maybe it was time to confide in her, after all. If he told her the truth, maybe he could convince her to stay at the cabin. Then he could continue his work in Sacramento and—

  He shook his head. Right. And do what? Ask her to twiddle her thumbs until he had time to come visit here? Take the risk that someone would still find out about her and somehow get to her? No. Not an option.

  So the charade would have to continue.

  “I suppose we should head out,” he said slowly, wondering if he imagined the disappointment that seemed to briefly flicker in her eyes.

  She nodded. “Of course. I’m sure Justine misses you.”

  He frowned, wanting to shake her for that comment but knowing he had no right. He was the one who’d decided to pretend Justine was his girlfriend. Yet there’d been something he’d been wanting to tell her. Something that had driven him to go to her house before his arranged meeting with the Rapture supplier.

  “I didn’t sleep with her,” he said abruptly. “After we were together. I—I just want you to know that.”

  Her instant relief was obvious. Licking her lips, she nodded. “Thank you for that, at least. But—but why tell me now?”

  He shrugged. “You took care of me. You’ve always taken care of me. No matter what’s happened between us, I owe you that much.”

  They gazed at one another until he was sure she could see every secret yearning he was harboring for her. With a mental curse, he turned away, mumbling that he was going to shower and dress.

  He took his time in the shower, hoping it would wash away not only his lingering aches but the emotional weakness that seemed to have come with them. When he was done, he dressed then eyed the closed bedroom door and the limited floor space around the bed. Reluctant to face Linda again when he was still feeling so needy, he cautiously got down on all fours on the floor.

  Before last week he’d been able to do one hundred push-ups every morning. One hundred in the afternoon. One hundred before bed. Coupled with sit-ups, weight lifting, endurance running and mixed martial arts, all done despite the pain his back and leg caused him, his workout regimen had changed his body. He should be able to do at least a few dozen even now, right?

  He managed to do a dozen before his arms caved. He went prone, the muscles in his pecs and biceps quivering.

  Damn. He hated being so weak. It reminded him of when Sabon had kidnapped Mattie. How Tony had failed to protect her. How Tony had failed to protect Linda—

  “Tony? Are you all right?” Worry filled Linda’s voice.

  Great. Just what he wanted Linda to see—him flattened by three minutes of working out. “I’m fine,” he called. “I’m doing push-ups.”

  He heard her footsteps and cursed when he couldn’t get to his feet quickly enough. For a moment silence filled the air, then he heard a snort. He rolled over and peered at Linda, who stood tall above him.

  “Looks more to me like you were making out with the carpet. Maybe you should give your body a chance to heal before you push yourself too hard. Here,” she said, coming to stand between his knees and offering him her hand. “I’ll help you up.”

  He let her pull him up to standing but then, despite his best intentions, didn’t release her hand even when she tugged it back.

  “I wanted to check on you. Your food’s waiting for you,” she said, her voice breathy all of a sudden.

  He swiped the back of her hand with his thumb in a slow caress. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

  She stared at him. Swallowed hard. Then took a deep measured breath. “No,” she said, yanking her hand back with enough force that he automatically let go. “I’m going to go for a long walk. When I get back, we can leave.”

  He watched her walk away, acutely aware that his heart was racing harder and faster than it had been when he’d been exercising. And wondering how he was going to survive once she walked away from him for good.

  * * *

  Linda left the cabin even though what she really wanted was to stay. She wanted to repeat the kiss they’d shared. She wanted to make love to Tony again. She couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more. She left because she didn’t trust her own willpower.

  She walked around the ten acres surrounding the cabin, bombarded by memories of when she’d been a little girl, and she and Kathy and their father had sometimes played hide-and-seek here. When he’d been around. He’d chase her and Kathy as they ran and giggled. Then he’d catch and tickle them.

  Tony had used to tickle her, too. He’d go at her mercilessly until eventually the game turned into something altogether different, and then he’d go at her in the bedroom. They’d go at each other. He’d been the one man she’d felt comfortable letting go of all her inhibitions with. Maybe because he was wounded, like her. Maybe because he wasn’t threatened by her professional success. She missed that. She missed reveling in who she really was instead of constantly having to guard against her true nature.

  But if she wanted to be a judge—and a young one at that given she was only thirty-three—well, judges were held to a higher standard than even most people. They couldn’t be wild or impetuous or selfish. Quite the opposite, in fact. Judges were impartial and objective and fair. That was what being the woman underneath the robe was all about, right? Being a judge meant she needed to be without prejudice. Blind, like Lady Justice.

  Could she be blind to her prejudices against others? To her prejudices about herself?

  At one time she had been wild and impetuous and selfish.

  Was that what was happening now?

  Why else would she so strongly cling to the idea that Tony was innocent? Why would she have made love to him? Kissed him? Brought him here in the first place? Was she blind to the realities of who he really was?

  But even as she asked the question, her faith in Tony’s innocence didn’t waver. Because she had kissed him. Tasted who he was now, not just in the past. And he was still sweet. Still good. Still—

  Her cell phone rang. When she saw the caller was Neil, she hesitated. He’d called her six times in the past few days, leaving her voice mails every time. The last one he’d left had sounded serious.

  With a sigh, she answered.

  “Hi, Neil.”

  Ten minutes later Linda walked swiftly back to the cabin. Neil’s words still rang in her ear.

  A reporter has linked you and Tony Cooper. He’s been asking questions. And implying that you had something to do with Tony being granted bail. He’s also questioning the fact that you disappeared soon after he was released. Damn, I’m sorry, Linda. This isn’t good. Not for your judicial campaign and not for...

  He’d lapsed into silence, but Linda had known what he was about to say.

  It’s not good for my career as a D.A., either. I might very well lose my job over this, Neil, isn’t that right?

  Hell, I’m sorry, Linda. But don’t worry. I’m on your side and so is Norm. We’ll get our comments to the press. Assure them that you only took some time off because of what happened, not because you’re with Tony.

  She’d swallowed hard. Hesitated. Then said, But I am with him.

  What?

  I mean, I have been with him. Someone tried to hurt me again and he helped me. But he got hurt and...

  Dear God, listen to yourself. Someone tried to hurt you and he just happened to be there to help you. Again. Don’t you think that’s a little convenient, Linda?

  It wasn’t like that, she’d protested.

  No? So he wasn’t hanging around where he shouldn’t have been? At your house maybe?

  He had been at her house. Even before she’d gone to his place at Tortuga Boulevard. But no, he’d been b
locks away. He hadn’t even wanted to go into the house with her. She’d practically forced him to.

  Hadn’t she?

  She rubbed her forehead. Of course she hadn’t forced him.

  She couldn’t force Tony to do anything.

  Just like she hadn’t been able to force him to stop taking the painkillers when they were together.

  Linda, he’s playing you. Playing on your feelings for him. Trying to convince you he’s a good guy so you’ll believe he’s innocent.

  But I wasn’t sure of his guilt before...

  And he obviously decided to capitalize on that.

  It made sense. Everything Neil had said made sense. But it wasn’t what her instincts told her.

  Listen to your instincts, the fax had instructed her.

  But she still didn’t know who had sent that fax.

  It would have to have been someone who knew both her and Tony. Knew about their previous relationship. But who would—

  It hit her then. Mattie.

  It could have been Mattie who’d sent her the fax.

  Mattie who was in WITSEC and couldn’t risk coming out of it because of her daughter, Jordan, but who’d heard of Tony’s arrest and wanted to get a message to Linda.

  That made sense, too.

  And thinking that Mattie had sent that fax, that she still believed in Tony from afar, was a much more palatable option than believing what Neil was saying.

  Neil, I heard Justine saying Tony had set up an appointment with someone who sells something called Rapture. Do you know anything about it?

  Damn it, Linda, that’s the last thing you should be worried about. Where are you? Tell me and I’ll—

  Neil. Please. Just answer the question.

  Rapture is a new street drug. A dangerous one. It’s similar to the bath-salt drugs, but it’s a hybrid, with an added component that makes the highs more intense, and the withdrawals even worse. It’s hard to come by, which is definitely a good thing. It’s been linked to mental deterioration in those who use it long enough.

  Mental deterioration?

  It drives people crazy. Makes them delusional. Makes them dangerous.”

  “In other words there’d be a reason why someone might want to get to this supplier to stop him from selling these drugs? Someone who was working undercover, maybe?

  Neil snorted. And what? You think the person doing that is Tony Cooper?

  I don’t know, Neil. But it’s a possibility. As you know, he acted as a confidential informant before. He had lots of reasons to bring Guapo down.

  And he sure did, didn’t he? He killed him.

  At least some of the evidence against him indicates he acted in self-defense.

  You’re reaching.

  No, I’m not. I’m trying to look at all sides. Look at the evidence objectively. That’s what a judge would do, right?

  You’re not a judge yet, Linda. And if you keep this up, you might never be.

  I know that, she said softly. But Tony’s isn’t just another case I’m prosecuting. I gave that to you, remember? That means I can be a little more objective.

  The reporter we’ve talked about isn’t going to call you objective. And he’s not going to stop until he buries you, Linda.

  That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Neil. If Tony is working undercover to stop this supplier, then...

  Then what, Linda? You’re going to get back together with him? Stand by him at trial?

  I—I don’t know. And she didn’t. She’d just have figure out the answer when the time came.

  Thank you for calling me and warning me about the reporter, Neil. I—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about where I was sooner.

  Neil sighed. I think you’re making a mistake, Linda. Be careful. Like I said, the Rapture drug is very dangerous. If Tony’s taking it, he can turn on you at any moment. Users are known to snap abruptly, with no warning signs. A few days ago a woman who used Rapture with her husband went crazy and ended up burning both of them during sex. She’s in ICU. Even if she makes it, she’s going to have to live with the fact she killed her husband. I don’t want to have to grieve your death, Linda.

  And I certainly don’t want to die. But I can’t believe Tony would be a threat to me. And I don’t think he’s using anything right now.

  You don’t think he is, Linda. But you can’t know. Can you?

  He hasn’t had anything for at least three days. And he’s not experiencing withdrawal symptoms. That tells me something. Though in truth, she couldn’t know whether he’d been experiencing withdrawal along with the negative symptoms of the infection he’d been battling. She refrained from saying anything about that to Neil, however.

  When will you be back?

  I’m coming back to town in a few hours. I’ll check in with you when I do.

  Okay. In the meantime I’ll try to track down this reporter and do some damage control.

  You’ve been a good friend, Neil. Thank you.

  But that’s all you want me to be. A friend. Isn’t that right?

  I’m sorry, she said again. There’d been nothing else she could say. She didn’t know whether she and Tony would be together in the long run. But she was still in love with him. She’d been a fool to think she could date Neil when that was true.

  Take care, Linda.

  You, too, Neil. She was just about to hang up when she suddenly remembered what Neil had said about the woman who’d taken Rapture being in ICU. Wait! Neil?

  Yeah? I’m here.

  Neil, what was the name of the woman who’s in ICU? The one who burned herself and her husband?

  Snow. Her name’s Molly Snow.

  After hanging up with Neil, Linda made her way back to the cabin. She wasn’t going to ask Tony any more questions. She was going to demand answers and this time he was going to—

  She froze as she came around the corner of the cabin. Her spine snapped into place, and betrayal carved an ugly hole in her chest.

  He was gone. Tony was gone. He’d taken her car and left her behind.

  “No!” she shouted. She kicked the ground, sending gravel spattering across the drive. All the accusations Neil had made about Tony using her echoed nastily in her head.

  Why had she trusted him? Angry, she stormed into the house. In the cabin’s family room, she stripped off Tony’s T-shirt and threw it in the fireplace. She’d burn the damned thing later.

  Twenty minutes later, after having run through all the hot water the cabin’s old water heater had to offer, she came out off the steaming bathroom, clad only in a towel.

  And screamed.

  Chapter 22

  Linda’s scream wasn’t one of anger, but sheer terror. She’d gone as white as the towel wrapped around her body.

  Tony cursed. “Linda, it’s just me!” He held his arms out, palms upright, as if placating a child in the middle of a temper tantrum. “It’s just me,” he repeated.

  Damn it, he’d only meant to clear his head. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

  A sob tore out of her chest. “Oh, God, I thought you were him...them.”

  Them? “Who?”

  “I don’t know. The men who shot at me. The cop you saw outside my house. Guapo’s men...I mean...” Her brow furrowed as she realized she was babbling.

  Tony stepped closer. “Linda,” he murmured, “you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She shook her head. “Tony...” Abruptly, her knees buckled.

  Damn. She was weak from shock and he was feeling dizzy, as well. The oxygen in the air seemed to evaporate. He swept her up, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her shoulders and head against his chest, and carried her into his room. Gently, with trembling arms, he placed her down on the bed.

 
“God, Linda. I’m so sorry I scared you.” He sat down next to her. She curled into the fetal position and wrapped her arms around her knees. For all her strong exterior, for all her determination in going after a judgeship, Linda was still a wounded woman. A victim. And he’d helped make her that way.

  She’d been pounded into oblivion because she hadn’t divulged his name to the bastards who demanded she tell them the name of the informant. Him. And they hadn’t even talked about the incident. Not really.

  Guilt ravaged him from the inside.

  “Do you want me to leave you alone?” he asked, ashamed at how tinny and tight his voice sounded.

  She hesitated for several seconds. Hell, a whole minute went by and he rose, certain her silence meant she wanted to be alone. But before he could leave...

  “Stay,” she whispered.

  He’d stay. He’d stay by her side until she could pull herself together, and then he’d take off. Get the hell away from Linda. Hitchhike back to Sacramento, if he needed to.

  When he heard Linda release a relaxed breath, he looked down and was surprised to see his own hand stroking her hair.

  “Where were you?”

  “I just went for a drive. I needed to clear my head.”

  “But you could barely pick yourself up off the floor. Why would you take the car? Where did you go? We had food. Water. You could have called your girlfriend on your cell at any time. Why would you leave without telling me first?”

  He saw it in her eyes when she paused. When she swallowed. When she broke his gaze and stared out the window.

  “Did you go somewhere to score drugs?” she asked, her voice hollow. “Was Neil right? Have you just been playing me this whole time? Was that man at my house really a dirty cop or someone you hired to break in so you could ‘save’ me?”

  Oh, God, did she really believe that?

  He couldn’t bear the ache in her voice.

  The pain in her eyes.

  How long could he keep up this charade? After all she’d sacrificed, didn’t Linda deserve to know the truth—at least some of it? His drug addiction had caused her the hell she’d lived through eighteen months ago. The hell she still lived through, given her response to being startled. He couldn’t give her everything, but he could give her this.