What Marcie did for him sexually was something else. If ever there was a woman who equaled him sexually, it was Marcie Alexander. Now she was about to become his wife.
He resisted the urge to phone Cain and let his friend know he would soon join the ranks of the married himself. He might even ask for a little maritial advice from his former boss—although the way he felt right then, he didn’t need anyone or anything but Marcie.
She’d let it be known she wanted kids. He hadn’t actually given any thought to the matter of a family. There was no reason he should. But now that the subject had been introduced, he was excited at the prospect of becoming a daddy.
Jack had visited Cain not long ago and been amazed at how well his friend had adjusted to fatherhood. Fact was, Jack had never seen more startling changes in anyone.
Cain fussing with dirty diapers was as much of a shock as Cain herding cattle. Now that was a sight to behold.
Apparently Mallory was into this baby thing in a big way. The last Jack heard, Mallory and his wife, Francine, were already planning a second addition to their family.
Now he was next. Damn, but it felt right. In retrospect he didn’t know why he’d taken so long to take the plunge. He guessed he’d been waiting for the right woman. Well, he’d found her in Marcie.
He walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and popped a green olive in his mouth. She was due to stop off at the apartment at any time.
Earlier that afternoon he’d picked out a diamond that had set him back ten thousand. Jack never thought he’d spend that much money on a wedding band, but he wanted Marcie to know he loved her. He was proud of her, of the person she’d become in the last several months. Proud that she hadn’t fallen into bed with him the minute he’d showed up at her beauty shop.
If she insisted, he’d wait until after the wedding ceremony, he was that crazy about her. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to put him off again, but he’d cross that bridge when the time came.
The doorbell chimed, and he did a quick visual on the apartment. Marcie was early, but that was a good sign. Very good. She was eager to see him, too.
To his surprise, it wasn’t Marcie standing on the other side of the door, but another woman. She wasn’t bad looking, either. A little on the thin side and pale, as if she’d recently recovered from a bad case of the flu.
“Are you Jack Keller?”
He leaned against the doorjamb. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“Letty Madden.”
Madden. Madden. The name rang a bell, only he couldn’t remember from where.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” she asked. From the look in her eyes she wasn’t going to be easily turned away.
He hesitated. It wouldn’t do well to have Marcie arrive and find him with another woman. Well, she needn’t worry; she was the only woman for him, and he’d take a great deal of pleasure in proving that to her.
“I’ve come a very long way to find you, Mr. Keller,” Letty Madden announced primly. “It has to do with Murphy.”
That was where he’d heard the name. Letty Madden was the name of the irritating postmistress who’d hired Murphy to find her brother in some hell-hole Central American country.
“Come on in,” he said, gesturing toward the living room.
She hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps when she faltered. Jack feared she would have collapsed right then and there if he hadn’t caught her. He gripped hold of her elbow and then slipped an arm around her waist.
“Easy now,” he said gently, and guided her to a chair.
“Sorry. I was released from the hospital yesterday. They didn’t advise me to travel, but I had to talk to you.”
“You know about me?”
“Murphy mentioned you frequently.”
This was interesting, since he’d always known his friend to be closemouthed.
“Have you heard from him lately?” she asked eagerly.
“Not in some time.”
It was pathetic to see the light fade from her eyes. “I thought, I’d hoped he’d be in contact with you.”
“He mentioned you as well,” Jack announced. “You’re the one who wanted to hire him to take you to Zarcero. Right?”
She nodded, and a hint of a smile touched her mouth. “I don’t suspect he mentioned me with any real affection.”
Jack didn’t answer right away. Murphy had considered the woman to be a thorn in his side. “Did you find your brother?”
She swallowed tightly and looked away. “We were too late, he’d been killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Luke was a decent, God fearing man.” Her hand went to her neck and she fingered what looked to be dogtags and a small gold angel. Jack had seen only one such angel in his life. It had belonged to Murphy. His friend had called it his good-luck charm.
“Where’d you get that?” he demanded.
Her eyes widened, as though she weren’t sure what he meant. It seemed to take her a moment to realize he was referring to the necklace.
“Murphy gave it to me.” Her eyes held his. “I haven’t heard from him. Not a word. Nor will anyone tell me what’s happened to him. I’ve lost my brother, I can’t bear to lose Murphy, too.”
Jack frowned. These were the words of a woman in love. Her hand closed around the dogtags as though she were clutching a lifeline, the only thing that kept her from losing control of her emotions.
“I’m afraid he’s dead,” she whispered, and her voice cracked.
“Murphy dead?”
“I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“Tell me what happened.” He sat across from her and listened as she related the details of their adventure in Zarcero, pausing only when he asked questions. She stopped at an incredible point, explaining that she’d been half crazed with fever and Murphy had gotten her and a priest friend to an airstrip, then held off rebel troops himself while they’d escaped to safety.
“The priest?”
“I never saw him again,” she murmured sadly.
“He was in the plane with you?”
“Yes, I think so. I don’t remember anything after that. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a Texas hospital. A family friend had been notified and was waiting to speak to me. As soon as I was released from the hospital, I came to find you.”
“You haven’t a clue where the plane landed?”
“None. I’m sorry. I was too sick. Apparently I’d been bitten by a particularly dangerous spider, but I’m fine now.” She brushed the hair away from her face, a gesture of nervous anticipation. “Will you locate Murphy for me?”
Jack didn’t need to weigh the decision. There’d been a time a couple of years back when he’d been captured and tortured. It’d been Murphy who’d led the team of men who broke him out of prison. He wouldn’t hesitate to repay the favor now.
“I’ll be on a plane as soon as it can be arranged.” He’d need to talk to Marcie first, explain everything. But she was sure to understand.
Letty’s eyes drifted closed with supreme gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Hey, I owe Murphy big time.”
“So do I.” But she didn’t elaborate.
Jack couldn’t help wondering exactly what had happened between those two in that jungle.
Letty left, and not five minutes passed before Marcie arrived.
“Hello, Jack,” she said softly.
He looped his arms about her waist and dragged her inside the apartment, ready to kiss her good and proper, show her how crazy he was about her. He would have, too, if she hadn’t turned her head aside at the last minute.
“Baby?”
Not until then did he notice that her eyes were bright with tears. “Marcie, what is it?”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Sorry?”
She clenched her hands together and lowered her head. “I can’t marry you, Jack.”
He almost laughed. The woman had to be joking
. Marriage was what she’d said she’d wanted. He’d gone out and purchased a diamond. Something was very wrong with this picture, and he had yet to figure out what it was.
“Not going to marry me?”
“I decided,” she said, her voice low and breathy, “to accept Clifford’s proposal, if he’ll have me.”
37
Marcie closed her eyes briefly in an effort to calm herself before she rang Clifford’s doorbell. She’d been to his house only one other time, and that had been for a short visit.
He lived in a two-story house close to Olathe, a suburb of Kansas City, in a house that had once belonged to his parents. He’d moved in after he’d been forced to put his father into a nursing home. It was a solid old house with flower beds out front and space for a small garden in the back.
No one answered, and Marcie had begun to fear she’d made the trip for nothing when the door abruptly opened.
To say that Clifford was surprised to see her would be an understatement. He stared at her as if seeing a ghost.
“Marcie, what are you doing here?”
Good question. “I thought we should talk.”
He held open the screen door for her. “Sure.”
The house was dark and cool on the inside. The furniture was large and bulky, sturdy, like the man himself. An old upright piano that probably hadn’t been played in years stood against one wall. Framed photographs were arranged across the top.
It caught Marcie’s attention because she’d always wanted to learn how to play the piano as a girl. There’d never been money for that sort of thing. Her father tended to drink up more than he contributed to the family’s income. By the time she was thirteen her parents had divorced and she’d seen her father only intermittently since.
“You want something to drink? I got a pot of coffee on, if you’re interested.”
She was nervous enough as it was without having to hold on to a coffee cup. “No thanks.”
Clifford gestured toward the overstuffed sofa. He was still in his work clothes but had removed his boots. His white socks were a stark contrast with his black short-sleeved shirt and jeans.
Marcie figured he must have come home, started reading the newspaper, and fallen asleep on his chair. That was what probably had taken him so long to answer the door.
“I figure I know why you’re here,” he said, sitting across from her. He sat close to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. Something on his hands demanded his attention because he couldn’t seem to make himself look at her.
Clifford knew? Marcie sincerely doubted that.
“I apologize about the other day. I should never have dropped by the shop, but I was anxious for your answer,” he murmured sadly.
Marcie almost smiled. “Is it the ring that’s bothering you or the marriage proposal?”
“Both, I suspect. In retrospect, I imagine that little diamond isn’t much of an incentive for you to marry a guy like me. Forgive me, Marcie, I gave it to you for all the wrong reasons.”
“I hope that’s not true. I came here to tell you something,” she said, hurrying her words in an effort to say what she must.
“I know you were with that other guy, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Marcie shifted uncomfortably. “You’re right, I was.” She couldn’t lie. Not to Clifford, who’d only been kind and honest with her.
“I could see when I came that I’d arrived at an inconvenient moment.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.
Marcie inhaled deeply, regret tightening her voice. She clenched her hands nervously. Having him find her with Jack made everything she had to say so much more difficult. “We didn’t make love. I swear to you, Clifford, we didn’t.”
“But you were tempted.”
“Yes.” Her voice was small and wobbly.
Clifford leaped off the sofa with a dexterity that surprised her. He walked over to the window and rammed five fingers through his hair. “That seems to be answer enough for me. You can keep the diamond, Marcie. I bought it for you. I don’t know how this other guy will feel about you keeping it, but I hope you will.”
“He won’t like it.”
Clifford’s shoulders tensed. “No, I don’t suspect he will. I sure as hell wouldn’t want my wife wearing a ring another man gave her.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, I fully intend to wear that diamond ring.”
One shoulder lifted in a jerky laugh. “You always were a stubborn woman.” He turned to face her, and his eyes held hers for a long moment, as though he intended to memorize her features. “I love you, Marcie. I knew from the first that I was probably going to lose you. You’re too good for me. You loving this other guy doesn’t come as any shock.”
“It doesn’t come as any great shock?” she repeated softly. Marcie hadn’t expected to cry. When the tears clustered in her eyes and dribbled onto her cheeks, she was taken by complete surprise.
“Marcie?”
“You’re an idiot, Clifford Cramden,” she shouted, “an idiot. Don’t you know the kind of woman I am? Men don’t give women like me diamond rings.”
He looked like a man in shock.
She was on her feet and not sure why. She didn’t want to leave, so she started pacing in front of the old upright piano. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re not good enough for me. It’s the other way around.” Her arms cradled her middle. “There’ve been more men in my life than I can count. I made love with so many men that eventually I stopped loving myself.”
Wordlessly, Clifford continued to stare at her.
“For years I was convinced that all men really needed to change was the love of a good woman. Only I wasn’t smart enough to realize that when I dove into the ocean to save a drowning man, I risked going down with him.” She sniffled and angled her head toward the ceiling. She rubbed the moisture from her cheeks and sat on the piano bench, curving her hands over the smooth polished-wood edge.
“It took me a long time to realize that when a man slapped me around, then claimed he didn’t know why I put up with him, that he knew what he was talking about.”
“A man beat you?”
“Men, sweetie, more than one. I’m a slow learner.”
“This guy you were with tonight? Has he ever laid a hand on you?” he demanded, his fists clenched.
“Jack? No, never.”
Clifford relaxed. “Good.”
“Don’t you see, Clifford?” she cried, having trouble keeping her emotions in check.
“See what? What type of person you are? I saw that right off, Marcie.”
She stared at him, uncertain she understood what he was saying.
“You’re a warm, generous, loving woman.”
She sniffled. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? I have a history with men, Clifford. An endless, boring history with a number of users.”
“Yeah, well, we all have a history, don’t we? I knew about yours a long time ago.”
“You did?”
He glanced away from her and lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “There were any number of so-called friends who felt it was their duty to let me know you had something of a reputation.”
Marcie closed her eyes at the sick feeling that attacked the pit of her stomach. “Other than that one time, you never once tried to get me to bed.”
“Do you know why, Marcie? Because with me you were always a lady. You never gave me reason to suspect anything else. I was proud to be with you. You’re warm and funny, and you made me laugh. Some of the best times of my life are the ones I’ve shared with you.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“For loving you? Hardly. It means a great deal that you’d come here to personally tell me you were going with this other guy. I don’t blame you. He can give you a hell of a lot more than I ever could.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“You see, loving you means that I want whatever you do.”
“Clifford Cramden, I love you. It’s you I want to
marry, not Jack Keller. You.”
“Me?” He narrowed his gaze, as if he weren’t sure he should believe her. “You came here because you want to tell me you’re marrying me?”
She walked over and stood directly in front of him and leveled a threatening look directly at him. “Don’t even think about changing your mind.”
“Changing my mind. I…you’re sure?”
“I’m more positive about this than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”
“But—”
“Don’t be making up excuses to talk yourself out of it, either. Understand?”
“Yes, but—” His eyes lit up like lampposts.
“I’ve been waiting all my life for a man as good as you.”
With an infectious grin on his lips, he pulled her down and into his lap. “I’m crazy about you, Marcie. You don’t have a clue how damned difficult it’s been not to make love to you.”
“We’ve got plenty of time for that,” she said, slipping her arms around his neck.
“A lifetime,” he said, kissing her with a hunger that left her breathless and clinging.
She smiled up at him and knew they were both going to be very, very happy.
38
The week that passed was the longest one of Letty’s life. She sat by the phone, leaped on it the minute it rang, waited breathless for word about Murphy. She didn’t care who delivered it. Jack Keller. Father Alfaro. Even Captain Norte himself.
Not knowing was driving her mad. She didn’t sleep, and she had absolutely no appetite. No news wasn’t good news; it was no news—and she was desperate to learn Murphy’s fate.
When she couldn’t bear the silence any longer, she took matters into her own hands. This time she went directly to where she was sure to get information: the Central Intelligence Agency in Washington, D.C.
It took her the better part of two days to work her way through the bureaucracy. She had to shout before anyone heard her; now she suspected they would tell her everything just to get her off their backs. On the third morning she was ushered into the office of Agent Ken Kemper.
“Ms. Madden.” He escorted her into his office, moved behind his desk, and gestured for her to take a seat.
Sooner or Later Page 25
