Dangerous Journey (mobi v.9/12)

by Joanne Pence

  “My innocence! That’s why you left me?” She pushed him away, stopping his caresses.

  He looked at her, puzzled. “I knew Carter wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he believed you knew nothing about all this. It’s easy to tell the Malay government a man went off into the jungle and disappeared. It’s not that unusual. But a woman, especially one whose brother was involved in the theft of a major art treasure, could cause a huge investigation. He wouldn’t want that.”

  She turned her back on him, not able to look at him, not wanting him to touch her. “I see. For the sake of this jade, you faked your death. You didn’t tell me or Jimmy, knowing how we feel about you, knowing how we would suffer.” Her throat tightened, stopping her words as the agony she felt came back to her anew.

  “I told Jimmy as soon as I could!” His voice was harsh. “And I didn’t fake my death! I told you I’d be all right. I told you to trust me. You were the one who decided I was dead! As far as I was concerned, I was just missing. Don’t you understand, woman? I wanted you to be safe! It would have been dangerous, maybe impossible, to get you out alive with Carter there once we found the Dragon!”

  “The Dragon...” She nodded. “Funny, I’ve never even seen what it looks like.”

  She walked to the living room and sat on a chair facing the large picture window.

  Darius followed her and stood behind her. “C.J.! It’s what we were there for!”

  Her gaze was veiled. “Yes. Of course.”

  “I didn’t think it would make any difference—”

  “Oh, Darius!” she cried in dismay as she bent forward, her head in her hands.

  “I don’t understand you!” He stormed to her side, lifted her off the chair, and made her look at him, holding her arms. “We did what we set out to do and you’re upset? This is supposed to be a celebration, not a funeral. This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s fantastic!”

  “Congratulations.”

  He let go of her. “Is that all you can say? I got us a fortune and saved your brother’s worthless neck, and that’s all you have to say about it?”

  “I’m sorry.” She turned her head aside, biting her bottom lip.

  “Sorry? Look at me!” he shouted. “What do I have to do next time? Find the stash from the Great Train Robbery?”

  Next time!

  He had said it. Her body suddenly felt rigid, as if all the life had gone out of it and all that was left was a hard shell.

  Next time...

  It was as if she were looking at him through the wrong end of a telescope. Everything went black around him, and he suddenly seemed very small and far away.

  She couldn’t stay there any longer; she couldn’t bear it. She took a step away from him, then another, and somehow she managed to cross the room to the door.

  He made a move in her direction and held out his hand, but then stopped and let his hand fall to his side.

  She would never forget him standing there, looking so lost, so hurt. She wanted to run back to him and hold him.

  But he had told her in Singapore that he didn’t want her with him.

  In Sarawak, he called himself a bastard and said it was wrong for him to make love to her.

  And then he had left her.

  Even now, he continued to choose a life she could never be a part of. And he knew it; he knew it. She felt as if her heart had been taken from her body, laid at his feet, and then kicked aside. Ever since their talk in Singapore, she had known the time would come to leave.

  But the knowing and the doing were so very different....

  She stopped at the doorway, then with her hand against the doorjamb as if for support, she turned and looked at him one last time. “It’s Clothilde,” she said. “Clothilde Jane Perkins. Good-bye, Darius.”

  o0o

  Jimmy was waiting for her in the entry hall as she left the guest room with her packed bag. He took her suitcase and placed it on the floor.

  “Stay, C.J. You two can work things out.”

  “It’s no good, Jimmy. We’re too different. We don’t believe in the same things—basic things, like what’s really important in life.” She blinked hard; she wouldn’t let him see her tears. “Take care of him, Jimmy.”

  “I will.”

  She hugged him. He held her close and patted her back.

  “I’ll drive you,” he said. “And maybe convince you not to go.”

  “I’ll accept the ride.”

  She looked up at the house as they got into the car. Darius was standing at the window watching them, a bitter, stricken look on his face. She turned away.

  As the Porsche descended the Peak, she found her voice again. “I never did hear how Darius got free at the airport. I thought he would be arrested.”

  “It was a setup,” Jimmy replied nonchalantly.

  “What?”

  “Once Darius got the Dragon, he wanted to get the men behind the whole thing, too. After he learned that Chan Li had not only lived in Luchow but had been involved in smuggling, what better place to look for a link between him and Yeng than the border patrol? Darius asked me to alert British intelligence about his plan. That was also why you had to ask the border patrol about Chan Li and let them know Darius would be returning. If Darius’s guess was right, Yeng’s contact in the border patrol would alert him that Darius, and most likely the Dragon, would be at the airport this afternoon. When they saw him ‘smuggle’ it into the country and approach them, they thought he was willing to negotiate with them. That’s when British intelligence stepped in and made some arrests.

  “Luckily, that ridiculous hat you wore didn’t hide from me who you were, and when I saw you run, I realized you thought Darius was also arrested. I spotted Burnham from a window, and got Darius away from the police as fast as I could. That siren of Burnham’s gave us a good idea where he was, even when we couldn’t see the car for all the traffic. And, of course, Darius can drive through Hong Kong traffic like no one else I’ve ever seen.”

  C.J. sat mutely as Jimmy gave her the explanation. “Will Yeng also be arrested?” she asked when he had finished.

  “I don’t know about Yeng. He’s in San Francisco, and very powerful. But at least his Hong Kong connection is broken up. It’s a start. It’s up to U.S. agents now, the FBI and Customs.”

  “Good.”

  They rode on in silence, until Jimmy drove up to the entrance to the terminal. He helped carry her bags to the airline counter. “Are you sure, C.J? Won’t you stay for a little while, at least?”

  “I can’t compete with Asia, Jimmy. But thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek, and he squeezed her hand in encouragement.

  “Goodbye, C.J.,” he said.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered, then watched him leave the terminal to return to his home—and Darius.

  An hour later she was in the plane, soaring high over Hong Kong. The colony looked so small from the sky, but it was full of life and people, and, to her, it was the most beautiful place on earth. She watched until it disappeared over the horizon.

  Her eyes remained dry. Some emotions were beyond tears.

  Chapter 21

  Only by looking at the calendar did C.J. know that summer and fall had come and gone and that it was now winter, because the weather in Los Angeles went from warm to hot to simply warm again as the year progressed.

  She was working in her apartment, wearing jeans and a red tank top as evening approached. She wore lots of red now, ignoring the beiges, blues and pastels she used to wear. It was Thursday, the night Muldoon’s Bar and Grill had its big pasta party, but she hadn’t attended since she’d returned from Hong Kong.

  She put down her paintbrush and palette and wiped her hands with a rag, careful not to bump into any of the paintings that cluttered her small living space. The last few months of the tourist season had been lucrative, almost exclusively due to the popularity of her Sarawak scenes—especially the ones that included a man with sun-streaked hair and green
eyes.

  A half-finished painting of him stood on her easel.

  As she critically eyed her work, there was a knock on the door. Tossing aside the rag, she crossed the room with irritation—it was probably a salesman—and pulled open the door. Everything within her stopped.

  His hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him, and he was far too thin. The tan had faded just a little. His clothes were, as usual, soft and invitingly casual—a sky-blue cotton shirt, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and light gray slacks.

  She felt her body go warm, then cold, and her breath caught in her throat. She had longed to see him again so many times that for him to be here now, before her, was simply overwhelming.

  As he watched her, his eyes sparkled. “May I come in?”

  His words jarred her from her astonishment, and she waved toward the studio, then quickly raked her fingers through her hair and tugged at the bottom of her tank top to smooth it.

  He entered the room and immediately crossed to the painting she was working on. He studied it for a moment. “It’s good, C.J. You’ve got a real gift.”

  She couldn’t seem to find her voice and made no reply.

  “I saw the picture you did at Jimmy’s,” he continued. “It was magnificent. I’m glad you gave it to him.”

  She waved her arms vaguely, then tucked her fingers into her back pockets. “If I have to feel like that before I can paint a great picture,” she said, her voice husky, “I hope I never do another one.” She had intended it to be a joke, but it fell flat.

  He stepped close to her. “I missed you, C.J. I had to see you again. How are you?”

  She swallowed hard, feeling a sudden pressure behind her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “Happy?”

  She shrugged. “I’m doing all right.”

  “Seeing anyone? Engaged?”

  She shook her head. “How’s Jimmy?” she asked, needing to change the subject, needing to calm the emotion that swelled within her.

  He took her hand, making her heart do cartwheels. “Jimmy’s same as ever.”

  She still adored him, she realized ruefully. She hadn’t been with him for two seconds before she knew it, even after all that had happened, and all the months that had passed. He had walked into her life again, and she was lost. But why? she wondered. Why was he here? She was afraid to ask, but she had to.

  “And you?” she asked, pulling her hand free as she crossed to the sofa and sat down. He followed and sat beside her, too close. She shifted away from him, trying to keep her voice non-committal, casual, as she asked her, “What brings you to these shores?”

  “I’m working.”

  “Ah. I see. On a hot pursuit for missing treasure?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  He shook his head. “You believed in my talent, Cleo. Even though my technique was no longer perfect, you said the inspiration was there, and that I could still play. When I was at the piano, you told me I was complete, and away from it, just a shadow of myself. You were right.

  “After you left I practiced eight, ten, twelve hours a day for over three months, until I felt I was ready. I went to New York, found my old agent and told him I wanted to play again. Not solo—I’m no fool. But with an orchestra—just to perform again, for nothing more than the joy of making music.”

  She saw the enthusiasm that lit up his face, a look she hadn’t seen before. She nodded.

  “I was overwhelmed, and humbled, too, by the response. A number of orchestras asked for me—good ones. And we’ve gotten requests for me to be the accompanist at some pretty impressive recitals. I don’t know about accepting those. Maybe in time. But not yet. One step at a time, as they say.”

  “I’m glad. That’s wonderful news.” She felt proud of him, and perhaps just a little sad. He wouldn’t need her nagging him to play anymore, and she was afraid that was the only way he had ever needed her, even if he hadn’t known it.

  “Since I was in New York,” he began, his expression changing, becoming more guarded as he spoke, “I did what I should have done a long time ago. I went to see Alicia. You can’t imagine what it’s like to meet a little girl—she just turned six—and know she’s your daughter. It’s frightening, yet kind of miraculous. She’s a funny kid, though. Ever since she turned four she’s been saving all the gifts I sent her for her birthday and Christmas. She didn’t even play with them, just put them on a shelf.” He paused, his voice choked as he added, “They were her daddy, she said. That’s all she had of me, and she didn’t want them to get ‘wrecked.’”

  He stopped speaking. His eyes were misty and he quickly dropped his gaze. “Do you know how that made me feel? I thought she might hate me for having left her—but all she offered was love. No blame, no recriminations. She simply accepted me, and then…and then asked me not to go far away again.” He shut his eyes a moment. “If man could stop time like film in a camera, rewind it, and shoot the scenes another way, I would have found some way to do it for her. To make it up to her.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “All the time wasted…”

  He studied her a moment before he said, “Nadia loves Alicia very much, but she’s got her career, and a new husband. She travels a lot. That’s what helped me decide what to do. I took a position in New York. That way I can be with my daughter. I discussed it with Nadia, and we came to an agreement. She has Alicia’s best interests at heart, and, she could see that this was important to her.”

  “So it’s all worked out for you.” C.J. clasped her hands on her lap. His music and his child, he had everything he wanted. “I always did say you were a lucky man,” she said a little wistfully.

  “Almost.” He raised his chin. “There’s one more little matter.”

  “Which is?”

  “The reward money.” One of his eyebrows rose as he studied her reaction.

  That money was still a bitter subject for her. She was surprised to find that it still made her stomach churn to hear about it.

  He continued. “You know the way I was living before you met me, C.J. But I want you to know I never did anything I’m ashamed of, no matter what scurrilous tales you heard from British inspectors who were trying to upset you and get information out of you.”

  She nodded in silence, not looking at him.

  “You and I did what we set out to do,” he said. “We turned the White Dragon over to the Chinese government so that Alan would be out of danger. We did it, and were given a substantial reward for it.” He stopped speaking and looked at her, his expression deadly serious now, his eyes searching. “I came here to ask you to forgive me. If you can, if you ever can.”

  She looked at him in confusion. “Forgive you?”

  “For not trusting you.”

  “You didn’t trust me?” That made no sense to her.

  He stood and went to the easel to look at her painting, then paced around the room. “I spent years, C.J., telling myself that I couldn’t trust anyone, except maybe Jimmy. But certainly not a woman, not ever again. I spent years telling myself that the only thing that was important was to get rich, by whatever means—legal means—it took. And what I did, I did by myself, without a care for anyone else.”

  “I see,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t want to consider how you would feel if you thought I was captured by headhunters, or lost in the jungle, or—yes, I’ll admit it—or dead. Oh, I thought you’d be upset for a while, but that’s all. I wouldn’t let myself think about it. Not after my experience with my ex-wife. But you’re nothing like her; you’re probably the most unselfish person I’ve ever met.”

  She was speechless; she should have realized the depth of his pain and that his inability to trust couldn’t be wiped out in a few weeks. There was so much she should have realized.

  “What I did was wrong, and I’m sorry, so very sorry, for hurting you.” He faced her. “In Sarawak, before I went into hiding, I should have told you. I should have realized what a good actress you
can be if you need to. For instance, that last afternoon in Jimmy’s house, you really let me have it. I thought you hated me. Never wanted to see me again. It took Jimmy a long time to convince me I was wrong.”

  “Did it?” A smile played across her lips. Thank you, Jimmy Lee, she thought.

  He bent to meet her at eye level. “C.J., half of that reward is yours.”

  The words cut through her. The reward—that damned money. That was the reason he was here. He had pulled his life together, and now he was feeling guilty about keeping what he thought belonged to her. She felt numb. She stood, pushing past him to walk to the window, then stared out at the cars going by. “I told you once I didn’t want it,” she whispered. “I meant it!”

  “I came here to give it to you,” he said.

  She shut her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t want money from you.” Her voice was only a whisper.

  He walked to her side. “I came here to ask you if you would be willing to take it if it weren’t divided between us.”

  Her brow furrowed slightly, but she made no other movement. He hurried on.

  “If, instead of splitting it, it were used to buy a house that I saw in Connecticut, right on the train line to New York City. It’s a big house in a nice town where a little girl could easily walk to school, and a wife could have a big studio in the attic to paint all the X-rated pictures of Sarawak she wants.”

  Her hands dropped to her sides as she turned and stared at him, but he maintained his stiff pose. “I..I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” she gasped.

  Finally he relaxed, letting out a huge sigh as if he, rather than she, had been the one nervously holding his breath. He wrapped his arms around her. “What I’m saying is, I don’t want that hard-won reward money to go to waste. Not when I think of what I had to go through to get it!”

  Drawing away from him, she put her hands on her hips, “Like scaring me half to death!”

  He grinned, that rakish, lovable grin she hadn’t seen nearly often enough. He pulled her against him. “No, Clothilde Jane Perkins—like falling in love with you, like getting up the nerve to come here and tell you I don’t want to spend another day without you. Marry me, C.J.”