The Sweet Thief

by Temple Madison

  He wagged the gun at him. “I’m the one with the gun, remember? I’d say my chances of leaving this room alive are better than yours.”

  “You forget. Three against one, unless you count Gabrielle.”

  “I’d count her if I were you, Sid. You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

  “I don’t think so, Griff. We can still overpower you.”

  “Maybe so, but you’ll be the first to go if you try. Besides...” He lifted the gun again. “This is the old equalizer here. Puts me way over the top.”

  * * * *

  Gabrielle turned her eyes toward her dresser where she knew there was a knife. She kept it there for protection. Most people kept guns, but she preferred knives. Not so loud—a lot of blood, but quiet. While Griff was talking with the others, she slowly edged over to the dresser and furtively reached behind her, where she silently opened a drawer and drew it out.

  Griff turned and looked at her. “Over here, Gabrielle, with the rest of them.”

  Gabrielle moved slowly until she stood with them, the knife hidden within the folds of her robe.

  Griff indicated with his gun. “Now, I’d like all of you to sit down and act like nice little hoodlums.”

  As Gabrielle edged toward the couch, her gaze darted around to see what she could do to save them. She saw a light switch, quickly reached for it, and slammed it down with her hand—and everything went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Oh my god,” Cap bellowed. “We gotta get in there.” Wasting no time, he yelled a lot of instructions into his walkie-talkie, kicked the doors of the van open and scrambled out. Every shadow, every unmarked car, and every seedy degenerate on the street became an undercover cop. Weapons were magically whipped out, disguises discarded, and what looked to be street filth before now became intense looking policemen with grim mouths and alert, darting eyes. Many stealthily oozed out of their hiding places like jelly, joining the others as they flashed their weapons and took their posts behind the open doors of police cars that came to screeching halts.

  Cap, along with the senator, the chief, and two other police officers, ran into the hotel and up the stairs. While they were taking the steps two at a time, a gunshot and a scream rang out. Stopping in their tracks, they looked at each other with wide-eyed, horrified expressions.

  The senator’s face turned ashen. “Dear god,” he whispered, pushed everyone aside, and hastily dashed up the steps.

  * * * *

  The lights flared on, and Gabrielle looked wildly around the room, eventually settling on a dead body lying in a pool of blood. “He’s dead!” She cried out, running toward Sidney Wilde’s body and crouching over it. At last pulling her focus away, she looked up at Griff. “Do you know what this means?” It means we can be together, my darling.” She rose slowly from where she’d crouched. “Just you and me from now on. None of this was my idea. It was his. I never wanted to hurt you this way. I only wanted us to be together forever. I love you Griff. I love you.”

  “Love?” Griff snorted. “You don’t know the first thing about love, you bitch. I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.”

  His cruel words knocked the very breath out of her body.

  “But why... what...” she began, her words soft and gasping. The bold, beautiful man before her became unrecognizable—a teary smudge amid the confusion whirling in her brain. “Why does everyone leave me?” she whispered. “I give them everything. My body, my love... everything. They use me... over and over... then they... throw me away.” She pleaded with Griff. “What’s wrong with me? Why...”

  She was suddenly spiraled back to another time and another bedroom, and the teary smudge became Tony. He was leaving her—going away—casting her aside like so much garbage. She began reliving it all over again. The room shimmered around her—the mussed bed, Tony’s face, the knife, the blanket that lay on the bed that in her mind was a suitcase filled with clothes. The madness built within her, and she slowly squeezed the knife, enjoying the feel of it in her hand. “You’ll never leave me,” she hissed, an ugly sneer stretching her bold, red lips. Her hand came up slowly, and she pointed the knife toward him. “I’ll kill you first!”

  Griff lifted the gun toward her. “Drop it, Gabrielle.”

  A horrible, crazed, tormented yell came from deep within her throat, and she began running toward Griff with the knife held high in her hand.

  Griff shouted, “Don’t, Gabrielle!” Just then, the door suddenly burst open, and Griff looked toward the noise just as Gabrielle reached him and plunged the knife into his chest. Blood poured from the wound as he fell in a heap on the floor.

  * * * *

  One of the uniforms that had just gained entrance aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger, fire bursting from the cold, gray barrel. The bullet hit Gabrielle. She dropped the knife and fell beside Griff, her arm draped over him in a possessive embrace.

  Almost as soon as Griff went down, Cap rushed over to him and checked his vital signs. “He’s still alive,” he shouted to those around him, “Let’s get an ambulance out here, pronto! The president is down!”

  The officer turned to Harley, who had a gun hanging limply at his side. He leaned down and carefully apprehended it. “Did you see who killed this guy over here?” he asked, pointing at Sidney.

  “I did it,” Harley said softly, looking down at the dead body as if he couldn’t believe he’d actually pulled the trigger. Tears began creeping down his face as an officer handcuffed him. “I hated the son of a bitch, and I still do.” He kicked Sidney’s dead body in the ribs.

  “Easy there, young man,” the officer said. “You can’t make him any deader than he already is.”

  “He treated us all like shit,” he shouted. “Now, we’re all goin’ down for something he did.” He began kicking him again. “Goddamned son of a bitch! I don’t care if I do go to jail for killing him. The bastard deserved it!”

  “Hey, back off there, son. He’s dead. He won’t be botherin’ you again.”

  The officers hustled the two out of the room. “You have the right to remain silent...”

  In an effort to help Griff, medics and cops scrambled around. When they finally put him on a stretcher and wheeled him out, the senator followed.

  Cap caught his arm. “Where you goin’?”

  “I’m going with him.”

  “You just gonna leave me here to handle all this? What about the media? There’ll have to be a statement. There might be questions only you can answer.”

  “Cap.” The senator gazed at him pleadingly. “You’ve been in on this from the beginning. Hell, we started this thing together. You don’t need me. I want to be with Griff. I’ve gotta be with him.”

  “Damn,” Cap breathed as he looked around at the confusion. “Yeah, I know... well, go ahead. I’ll be along later.”

  * * * *

  The whole thing took Cap longer than he expected. It was well into the next morning before he got everything tied up, and when he found out where they’d taken Griff, he hurried over, rushing through the hospital corridors like a madman as rumpled up and wrinkled as ever.

  The media crawled out of the woodwork like roaches, swarming the hospital. Reporters stood in front of cameras with live reports of the incident, and everyone was on pins and needles waiting to see if the president was going to live or die.

  Cap found the senator sequestered in a room away from all the craziness that was going on outside. When he walked in, he saw him leaning over, his face buried in his hands. Thinking Griff was dead, fear swept through Cap, and he rushed over to the senator.

  “Orval. My god, is he—”

  The senator looked up at Cap. “Thank god you made it. He’s in recovery now.”

  “Then why the hell ain’t you with him?”

  The senator wiped at his eyes. “I can’t let him see me like this. I just wanted to get myself together before I go in.”

  “So everything went all right?”

  “So far, so
good. The doctor said the wound was in his upper thor—here, I wrote it down.” He pulled the paper out of his pocket and began reading. “Between the arc of aorta and lateral thoracic artery... whatever the hell that is.” He managed a small smile. “You know how doctors are. They go to school all those years and forget how to speak English. Anyway, for us laymen, it’s in his upper chest, but in a clean area, the doc said. If she had struck him anywhere else, it could have been a lot worse, probably even fatal.”

  Cap saw tears swimming in his eyes.

  “As it is, it looks like he’s going to be all right.”

  “What did I tell you, Orval?” Cap slapped him on the back. “You can’t get a man like our pretty boy down. I tell you, they’re stacked in his favor.”

  “Cap, I know you don’t like—”

  “Are you kidding? I love the guy.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. You know me. I’m all talk. I give everybody a hard time until I find out what they’re made of. Then it’s lilacs and champagne all the way.” He nudged the senator. “Didn’t I give you a hard time the first time we met? The way I remember it, you put my ass in place, good and proper.”

  The senator looked up and saw Cap lighting up a cigarette. “Cap, do you have to smoke?”

  Cap looked down at the cigarette and frowned. “There’s nobody in here but you and me.”

  “But it’s against the rules.”

  “Hell, Orval, when was I ever one to follow rules? Besides, if they say anything about it, I’ll tell ’em it was you.”

  “Me?”

  “Sure. They wouldn’t come down on a man that’s grief-stricken.”

  “Cap, you’re as irreverent as hell.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a great detective,” he said, puffing on the cigarette as if he hadn’t had one in ages. “Me and old Matlock.”

  “Matlock was a friggin’ lawyer. Get your professions straight.”

  Cap shrugged. “If you want to get technical, he was an actor who played a lawyer. But lawyers have clients, and they both use detectives, and that’s me. Anyway, we’re all in the same family. Now—”

  “You’re crazy as hell, you know that?”

  “Hey, it ain’t easy bein’ green. Have you told Lorelei?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Cap’s acne-scarred face twisted up in surprise. “It’s been hours. What the hell are you gonna do, wait until she sees it on the news?” Cap looked over in a corner. “There’s a phone. Go use it.”

  “Hell, I know it’s there, I’ve been staring at it for the last hour.”

  “No time like the present,” Cap said as he turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I thought I’d give you a little privacy.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  When Cap got outside, he walked around until he found the recovery room. He saw what he knew to be plainclothesmen hovering nearby, guarding the area. They took on the guise of orderlies, visitors, or even patients while the Secret Service men stood around with their noses out of joint. Apparently the police were running the show now, and it obviously gnawed at their guts.

  With the blinds closed, shadows filled the room. The only light was the one that glowed faintly over Griff’s bed. His chest was wrapped up in bandages, and he had tubes sticking out of him. As Cap quietly walked up to his bed, he noticed that he was very still. He looked down at his closed eyes and spoke softly, “If you think a little stab wound is gonna keep you from getting your butt whipped, think again.”

  Slowly Griff opened his eyes and tried to smile. “I could still whip your ass with one hand tied behind my back.”

  Cap grinned. “You know what? You probably could.” Cap reached in his pocket to pull out a cigarette, and then thought he’d better not. It was the first time in his life he’d ever considered someone else other than himself.

  I’m getting so damned soft, you could use me for a pillow.

  “What happened?” Griff asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Well, the little lady let you have it in the chest. You’ll be okay, but she’s dead.”

  Cap thought he saw a look of sadness in his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Everything went just fine. We searched the two apartments and managed to grab all the evidence. We even got the tapes of you in the apartment edited and the whole thing makes you look like a real hero.”

  “You’re the hero, Cap, You and the senator. Everyone should know that.”

  “Hell, no. I wasn’t the one up there fuckin’ the hell out of a beautiful woman.”

  Griff grinned, then grimaced with obvious pain. “I’m sorry if I messed things up, but she was already suspicious, and I didn’t want—”

  “Hellfire, don’t worry about it. Orval and I figured it all out, and nobody’ll ever know, especially Lorelei.”

  Another look of pain crossed his face. “Where is Lorelei, she didn’t come—”

  “She hasn’t been told yet. The senator is just now puttin’ a call in to her. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

  “What are your plans now that this is all over?” Griff asked. “From what the senator tells me, you’ve led a pretty exciting life.”

  “Yeah, I could tell you a few stories that’d curl that hair even tighter than it is already. But, who the hell knows.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll write a book someday. Think anybody’d read it?”

  “That depends. Will it have lots of sex?”

  “Does a cat meow?”

  “Lots of danger and excitement?”

  “My life’ll be threatened in seven different languages.”

  “How about the ending, will it be happy?”

  Cap spread out his arms and smiled a big smile. “Do I look sad?”

  “Okay, you crazy bastard. Sign a copy and send it over.”

  Cap grinned. “Special delivery, just for you.”

  When the door opened, both Cap and Griff looked toward it. Lorelei ran in, a cascade of tears falling down her cheeks. Looking down at Griff, she said, “My god, Griff, what happened? The last time I saw you—”

  “You mean the senator didn’t tell you?”

  She turned and looked at Cap. “I heard it on the news.”

  “The news? Sheesh!” Cap said, pitching his tattered hat high into the dark room. Apparently, the senator had chickened out again.

  She leaned down and kissed Griff softly on the lips. “Griff, I love you,” she sobbed. “Please don’t die.”

  The two men’s gazes met over her head, and Cap, reading the message, said, “I’ll just go and get some coffee. Can I bring you something?” Hearing nothing but sobs and wet kisses, he added, “No, I guess not.” Making a small salute, he backed out of the room.

  * * * *

  Griff’s lips met hers with sweet urgency. Who knew that it would take a knife wound and almost death to bring Lorelei back into his arms?

  Was it worth it? he asked himself. Looking up into her sweet face, he thought of a sunny little breakfast nook, freckle-faced kids playing in the yard, and a salesman coming up the front walk. He knew he’d gone to hell and back for her—and he would do it all again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  While Griff recovered, the news of that eventful night swept the country like a dangerous plague. They ran the tapes over and over again on every TV channel, and the country went wild when they saw their president up on the screen acting out the biggest spy ring bust in political history. Griff’s approval rating went right through the roof, and the media had pictures of both him and Gabrielle spread all over the newspapers and magazines. At last, the blank face had features, and the identity of the mystery woman had been revealed. But the situation hadn’t been what they expected, it was bigger—much bigger. Biographers and historians gathered up every piece of information they could find, and they told her story from the time she was a child, on up to the present.

  Public authorities were brought in to comment, each one picking apart and analyzing th
e incident from beginning to end. It was an endless babble about why he did this and why he did that, what happened here and what happened there. Some tried, but no one could find any of his actions to criticize. No mention of an affair was even considered. They made it sound as if he was just biding his time with this woman, suffering silently as the Post and the Times ripped him apart until he could bust the spy ring wide open. Even the Republican Party, when asked, had to bow down to the Democrats and admit the brilliant genius of their president.

  By the time it was over, the story was so twisted up, even Griff himself didn’t recognize it. He wanted to be honest and tell the public the truth, but the senator managed to talk him out of it.

  “Griff, don’t do it. You’re a goddamned hero. So what if the public doesn’t know the whole story? You were still instrumental in breaking up the biggest spy ring in years. Hell, it couldn’t have been done without you.”

  “Who in god’s name twisted the story up like that? It’s all wrong, and they’re giving me all the credit. That’s just not right, Senator.”

  “Not right? Who, then, should the credit go to? Me? Cap? What the hell did we do? You were the one standing eye to eye with those bastards. Me... I would’ve been hiding behind a chair somewhere, but not you. You faced those suckers like the hero you are, and I couldn’t have been prouder. That’s what the public saw on those tapes, and they were right. You did one hell of a job, Griff. If the public calls you a hero, it’s only because that’s what you are.”

  “But I can’t take credit for something I didn’t do.”

  “You didn’t go into the big middle of those crazy nuts and hold a gun on them when they were planning to kill you?” The senator strode over to Griff and put his face up close to his. “If it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?”