Commitments (45 page)

Sensing that sleep was a long way off and needing a diversion, she crept from bed, threw a robe over her nightgown and a shawl over that and left the room without waking Derek. The back door creaked beneath her hand. She left it ajar as she darted across the moonlit path to the bam. Moments later, she returned carrying the Ballantine files. With the softest beam of light coming over her shoulder, she sat reading them in the ' for hours. Periodically, she stopped to jot down notes to Page 167

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herself, but for the most part she simply read and reread, studied and thought. it was nearly three in the morning when her eyes grew too heavy to do more. Locking the files in the cabinet by the desk, she went back to bed. 460 Shortly before dawn, a loud banging on the bedroom door brought her awake. '! Derek, Sabrina!' Sabrina was struggling to get her bearings when Derek stirred beside her. Vake up, you guys!' Ann yelled, banging harder. ' barn's on fire! I ' Christ/ Derek murmured. After a second's fight with the sheets, he was on his feet racing to the window. One look and he was back, grabbing for his clothes. '. Holy shit.' He hopped on one leg to thrust the other into his cords, then teetered and nearly fell when he reversed the procedure. ' of them are dead to the world out there.' As wide awake, as Derek now, Sabrina yelled, ''re upv to Ann, then reached for the phone and dialed in the alarm. Derek was out the door by the time she turned back. Grabbing her robe, she pulled it on as she ran after him. It was arson. Even before the fire marshal declared it so, Derek knew. There had been no slow trail of smoke to alert the sleepers. The fire had started suddenly and burned quickly -7 with the inferno centered at the front of the bam where the offices were clustered. It was set by a master and had been designed to destroy the papers and files while giving those asleep in the rear rooms chance to escape. They

-had @tscaped., Derek thanked God for that. Justin, Jason, Denice and Bill - all safe, if stunned. The only casualty was J.B. who raced into the barn to rescue his book and any other papers he could reach before the heat had grown too intense and the rafters had threatened to collapse and Derek's hand on the back of his pants had hauled him out. He had been @461 burned where his shoulder had hit a smouldering beam, but other than that he'd been lucky. The barn itself was a total loss. By the time the engines arrived, it was completely engulfed in flames. The best the firefighters had been able to do was soak the house and the surrounding trees to prevent spread of the flames. Now, covered with soot and devastated, Derek stood among the charred ruins. It was mid-aftemoon. The flames had long since burned themselves out, and what few persistent sparks may have been missed by the firemen's hoses had been doused by the falling rain. It was a gentle rain, an April rain. The air would have smelled of wet earth and growing things had it not been for the overpowering stench of smoke. The waste of it all tore at him, making him want to scream at the pain he felt. J. B.'s book was singed but intact. One of the reports had been rescued. Everything else was gone. Gone. All that was left was self-recrimination. He should have installed a sprinkler system in the barn, or a more elaborate fire alarm. He should have bought a guard dog when held suspected Greer was on his trail. He should have purchased the motion sensor he'd seen, the one that automatically tripped floodlights outside at the first sign of movement. He should have - should have, damn it - copied those files and stashed the originals elsewhere. But it was too late. No amount of self-recrimination would restore what had been lost. For Ann and Justin, Bill, Jason and Denice, the loss was a minor setback. For him, it was a major defeat. Muttering a vile oath, he kicked at the debris by his feet. The barn itself didn't matter. Hell, he'd already thought of buying one of the old Victorian houses in 462 town and shifting the offices there. Held even thought of converting a second one into apartments for the staff . He wanted privacy for Sabrina and himself. Where teamwork was concerned, enough was enough already-No, it wasn't the barn that hurt. It was the files. Dejectedly, he looked around. Sabrina would be back soon. He'd deliberately sent her to the hospital Page 168

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with Ann and J.B. to keep her safely occupied, -but she'd be back. He had to get his act together before then, had to know what to say. But what could he say? Hey, don't sweat it, it was only a bunch of papers. So what was a little extra work on our part - we got to see the country, didn't we@ Okay, so Greer is elected, so what? We've had worse men than him calling the shots. What's that you say? Revenge? Revenge? All for nothing. The thought sank deeper and deeper, increasing his torment. All for nothing. It had been his mterest in the files that had first roused Greer, his interest in the files that had led to a man's death and to his own trial, conviction and imprisonment. The pain, the fear, the boredom and frustration and fury - all were for nothing. The files

-@rere gone. Squeezing his' eyes shut, he bowed his head, pressed his fists to his temples and let out a low, savage sound that filtered into the air and grew mournful as it hung over the ruins of the bam. Slowly it faded. Derek let his fists fall to his sides. He raised his head and opened his eyes to the bleakness he felt. "My sympathies, Mcgill,' came a voice from behind. Derek froze. He stared straight ahead, recognizing the voice, refusing to believe that the voice he recognized was there. But just asthe charred remains before 463 him weren't about to rematerialize into something useful; so the voice came again. ''s a terrible loss for your new enterprise, but you'll rebuild. You'll go in different directions, that all.' Dropping his gaze, Derek took one breath, then another. Then, slowly he raised his head and turned. The man he faced was in his fifties, tall and remarkably well built. His skin was as tanned as always, his silver hair - sheltered from the rain by a large black umbrella - as impeccably groomed. He wore the kind of country clothes worn by those who wanted only to look the part not play it. With his legs planted in a wide stance, his chin set and his mouth slanted smugly, he was as arrogant as ever. ' are you doing here, Greer?' Derek asked in a low, venomous voice. Greer was undaunted. He smiled. ' spreads fast. Word of the fire came over the wire just before noon. I said to myself, poor Mcgill, life hasn't been going his way lately, and I thought that maybe for old times' sake I'd fly up and offer my help., He looked around at the farmhouse, then the lake and the trees. '.' Derek clenched his jaw. ' were people in that bam." At that Greer did look properly disturbed. ' I heard. Damn good thing they got out. With your record, you could have been hit for negligent homicide.' ' were people in that barn, innocent people, and you and your torch risked their lives.' ' you think this was arson?' Greer asked conversationally. He scratched his head and looked innocently toward where the fire marshal was sitting in his car taking notes. '

thing to solve, arson is. It's one thing if you're in the city and you've got witnesses 464 who saw someone run from the scene just before the fire, but up here - ' He gave a rueful shrug. ' here, no one's around to see, especially just before dawn.' Derek knew he was right. it might be proven that the fire was set, but finding the person who set it would be next to impossible. ' that why you came? To gloat?' '?

Because you've had a little misfortune? New York would have been just fine for gloatm9l if that was what I had in mind.' He rocked back on his heels. ''re a good man, Mcgill.' He held up a hand. '... have a few weaknesses that need some work, but you're a good man.' The hand fell, thumb catching on the side pocket of his down vest. "At one point I was thinking of hiring you to work with me in Washington - you'd make a powerful press secretary - but now that you've put down roots here, it's a moot point. And then there are those weaknesses. You're bullheaded. You always' were. Don't know when to yield.' He shook his head. '

wouldn't work where I'm going. Politics is the fine art of compromise."

- With each reference to the Capital, where Greer had clearly taken for granted he was headed, Derek's fury grew. The only thing to temper it Page 169

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was the utter disbelief he felt at the gall, the gafl of the man to show up at the scene of his latest crime. ' know/ Derek said, his eyes dark, hard and relentlessly aimed at Greer, ' can pretty much figure out how you did it with Padilla and the trial and all. I can also guess that you weren't thrilled when I was released. You must have thought they'd keep me longer. But what I don't understand is why you didn't just kill me once I got out. A sniper's bullet from a distance aimed not at the tire of my car but at me - 465 wouldn't that have been quicker and cleaner than following me around for months?' Greer said nothing at first. Then he squatted and poked at the chunks of dark, damp wood at his feet. ' understand you redid the barn yourself. Too bad. That must double your upset about the fire. Of course' - he raised his head and looked Derek sharply in the eye - Iso much of the satisfaction is in the doing. It's the project - the planning, the anticipation, the taking of one step at a time.' ' why didn't you go after the files yourself V

Derek asked. ' of your" men could have done exactly what I did. That would have been a helluva lot easier.' Without breaking eye contact, Greer straightened. ' don't listen, Mcgill. That's a definite weakness. You don't listen, you don't hear what's being said.' '

listen. I hear. It's just that I can't believe that this whole ... charade was performed fqr the sole purpose of your personal entertainment.' Greer tipped his umbrella to squint toward the thick, lead-hued clouds overhead. ' and running a megacorporation like mine has taught me many things. I tell you this, Mcgill, since you seem intent on becoming an entrepreneur and I see no reason why you shouldn't learn from me. Organization is crucial. You have to be able to divide labor and delegate authority. The duplication of any effort is a waste of time and money.' ' other words/ Derek said, wiping rain from his jaw with the sleeve of his jacket, ' was doing it, so why should you. But you knew about the girl. Early on you must have figured she had the files. Still you sat back.' Greer looked off toward the lake. His expression was 466 "',calm, his tone nonchalant. He might have been chat-ting about the weather. ' man has to be careful, especially a politician. It's the media. They're out of control nowadays, too damned nosy, too damned conscientious. Everything is seen, noted, reported; and if the politician in question has his sights set on an even higher office, that could spell trouble.' Derek could only think of one '

office' to which Greer would aspire, and the thought made him sick.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Greer. Okay, I may have lost it this time, but some day, somewhere, it'll catch up with you., One brow rose and fell in a shrug of unconcern. ''m cautious.' ' one's that cautious.' ''m smart.' ''re arrogant. You thrive on manipulating people t for the sense of power it gives you.' Slowly, almost absently, Greer panned the farmhouse and its setting. He niffed, then nodded.

"Goodlooking place you've got. It really is. Good-looking woman, too." Derek's spine grew ramrod-straight. A pulse throbbed at his temple, a muscle at his jaw. Greer sent him a sidelong glance. ' she know about your background?' Derek sucked in the inside of his cheek and closed his molars on the moist flesh. ' having to live down a past like that. Doubly tough with a record of your own - speaking of which, I was surprised your parole officer didn't balk at all that traveling. They usually like ex-cons to stay put so they can keep an eye on them." He paused. ' did report the traveling, didn't you?' 467 Other, than the slight, involuntary flare of his nostrils, Derek didn't move. '

bad you couldn't get a job back in the city/ Greer said. ' I heard you were getting out, I went around, spoke with a few people.' "I'll bet you did/Derek said very slowly. ' tried to tell them how dedicated you were to your work, but they seemed to feel that hiring a convicted murderer would be an unnecessary risk. And to be honest, they had a Page 170

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point. To take on a man prone to violence, to sink money into a project

- ' could kill you, Greer.' Greer grinned. ''ll bet you could.' '

off my property.' ' I hear it, it's your wife's property.' ' off my land before I strangle you.' He was clenching and unclenching his hands, itching to do just that. ' that a threatv ' like a promise/ Derek vowed. His hair was wet, falling in spikes on his forehead. His skin was wet, too, and his clothes; but he was oblivious to that. The full force of his concentration was on Greer, who looked for all the world to be enjoying himself. ' why doesn't that scare me? I he asked. '

because we've got a pack of witnesses who'd have you pinned to the ground in no time, and because you'd be back in prison on assault charges before you had time to pee, and because once back there, you wouldn't be getting out so quick. The assault of a candidate for the United States Senate is a serious offense.' He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice, goading Derek for everything he was worth. ' on, Mcgill, try it. I dare you.' Derek wanted to. The wild look in his eyes attested 468 P'to it. He wanted to haul back and hit the man so hard that he'd go flying and then he'd kick him, kick him again and again just as held been kicked that day in the prison shadows - until Greer begged for mercy. And then, only then, would he decide whether he'd let him live. ''s the matter, Mcgill? I Greer taunted. ''t have the guts? I Derek gave that imaginary body another hard kick. His voice mirrored the force. ' have the guts.' ' what are you waiting for?

You wanted to get me with those files, but you can't.' He grinned. '

files are gone, Mcgill. You're powerless as ever. What do you say to that? I Derek didn't say a thing. So Greer looked around. ', you've done okay. There really is something to be said for country living. Relaxed and laid-back. A little cottage business, pretty farmhouse, some land. Not bad for second-best.' Derek took a step forward. ' the wife. Bet she's a hot little thing, getting it on with an ex-con. I heard about those scenes in the prison yard. I heard.' ' could kill you/ Derek seethed. ' why don't you?' Why didn't he? In the course of a minute's time, he was thinking about his ' little thing, of a wife, thinking that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, thinking that he liked country living, liked being relaxed and.-laid-back, liked having a cottage business, a pretty farmhouse and some land. He was thinking that he liked running on country roads and sculling on the river, that he liked the idea of being near Nicky, and that he had enough story ideas to keep three teams at work. He was thinking that 469 there was nothing second-best about what he had and that he@ wouldn't change places with Noel Greer for all the money, all the power, all the glory in the world. Why didn't he kill Greer? With a look of pure disdain, he gathered just enough saliva to spit at his feet. ' you're ... not ... worth it, I he said and turned to walk away, only to falter when he saw Sabrina standing a dozen feet off. She was looking anxious, a little tired, strangely excited. Feeling an odd serenity wash over him, he started walking again. When he'd reached her side, he put an arm around her shoulders and started moving her toward the fire marshal's car. She cast a perplexed glance over her shoulder at an even more perplexed Greer, then said, ', there's something - ' ''s J. BY '. Derek, we didn't ' are you?' he asked, searching her face. "Fine. Derek, what was he doing - ' ''s leaving/ Derek said. They'd reached the fire marshal. '@ that man/ he tossed his head toward Greer, ' trespassing on private property. I would appreciate it if you would call the police for me. I have something more important to do just now.' The fire marshal, who doubled as the town's postmaster and knew and respected Derek as a local, said,