Darkness before the Dawn (13 page)

Maggie pulled herself out of Randall’s lap with as much decorum as she could manage. “Then why warn us? Why let us know we’re being watched? Surely it would only make us more careful.”

Leopold shrugged. “Who is to say? The secret police get as much pleasure from playing with their victims as they get from accomplishing anything. They are very stupid men, usually from the northern provinces.” His sneering voice made it clear that he was from the more intellectually gifted southern provinces. “Very bad men, too. We will have to be careful.” He veered around another corner, and once more Maggie landed in Randall’s lap in a tangle of arms and legs.

Once more she struggled to extricate herself, but this time his long arms wrapped around her, holding her in his lap, and her struggles were useless. “Will you take your hands off me?” she demanded in a furious hiss.

“No. You’ll just end up back here the next time Leopold turns a corner, and I’m getting bruised from the impact,” he
said in his most impassive tone of voice. “Besides, we have company. Don’t we, Leopold?”

“Yes, mister,” Leopold agreed as the aging Fiat bucked forward with truly impressive speed. “They’ve been following us for a while now. But not to worry. I, Leopold, will lose them. I’m the best driver in Gemansk, better even than my brother Vasili was in his heyday. You have nothing to fear.”

Maggie had stopped her struggles for a moment. “Vasili was your brother?”

Leopold grinned in the rearview mirror, apparently entirely unmoved at his passengers’ complicity in his brother’s death. Or perhaps he was simply ignorant of it. “One of five,” he said proudly. “But none of them are as strong, as brave, as Vasili. Vasili is very much a man.”

Randall’s arms had seemingly relaxed, and Maggie tried to jerk away from him. She was yanked back into his arms, held there by brute force, and there was nothing she could do short of punching him in the groin to release herself.

“Stay put, Maggie,” Randall muttered into her ear, his temper finally overriding his usual calm, “or I’ll strangle you.”

The Fiat was moving at incredible speed at this point, and the gloomy landscape was whizzing by. Maggie shut her eyes for a moment. “I dare you,” she said wearily, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Don’t tempt me.” His fingers were no longer biting into her upper arms; they were holding, almost caressing her.

“Hold on,” Leopold shouted from the front seat as they once more veered around the corner, probably on two wheels or even on one. And then they were bouncing over a stubbled field, and there was nothing Maggie could do but clutch at Randall and curse under her breath.

A breathless lifetime later, they finally rattled to a stop beneath a bridge next to a dry stream bed. Leopold killed the engine and turned to grin at them proudly. Maggie finally released Randall’s arm and opened her eyes in weary relief. There was no one around, no sound or sign of pursuit.

She crawled off Randall’s lap, and this time he let her go. His eyes were trained on the front seat. Maggie followed his gaze directly into the barrel of Leopold’s gun. He was still smiling that beatific smile.

“And now, mister, you will tell me what happened to my brother Vasili,” he said gently.

Maggie sat staring at the gun barrel, staring at Leopold’s charming young face, so very like his older brother’s. He had the gun trained quite negligently on Randall, obviously underestimating the female of the species, and she considered for a moment whether she could take him. She could, but not without considerable risk to Randall’s impeccable gray suit. He wouldn’t care to have powder burns in his breast pocket. Regretfully she leaned back against the seat, still alert for possibilities.

“What do you mean?” Randall said with deceptive ease. She could feel the tension running through him; his muscles were coiled and ready to spring at the first sign of weakness. He wouldn’t worry about powder burns marring
her
rumpled suit, she thought wryly. She’d better be prepared to duck, and duck fast.

“Don’t play games with me, mister,” Leopold said evenly. “My brother was shot down by the secret police when you were last in Gemansk. No one will talk about the details of that time, and before I help you any further, I want to know what happened.”

“I might feel more talkative if you put that gun away,” Randall drawled.

“But I would feel less inclined to listen.” The gun stayed where it was. “I’m getting impatient, mister.”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Maggie said. “He wasn’t there when Vasili was shot. I was.”

The gun turned to her. “Then you tell me, miss. Tell me
what you know about what happened to my brother on that day.”

“Maggie!”

“Shut up, Randall,” she said fiercely. “He has a right to know what happened to his brother. We don’t have anything to hide. God knows, I’ve felt guilty enough over the years, but it wasn’t our fault. Not really.”

“I will decide whose fault it is,” Leopold said. “What was Vasili doing at the border? Was he going to escape to the west?”

Maggie shook her head. “He was making sure I got out safely. Randall—Randall still had unfinished business, and he sent me out ahead of him. Vasili accompanied me of his own accord. He—”

“You don’t need to explain my brother to me, miss. He could never resist a pretty face.”

“We took the train to the border. When he got off, the police were waiting for him. He didn’t wait for any questions—he ran. And they—they shot him in the back.” Her voice was deceptively cool, her eyes anguished at the memory.

“We are trained to run. The secret police have ways of making people talk.” Leopold laughed; the cheerful sound was jarring in the stillness. “That sounds like an American movie. Humphrey Bogart, yes?”

“Maybe,” Maggie said carefully.

“You still haven’t told me who betrayed my brother to the police.”

“What makes you think anyone betrayed him?” Maggie said hotly. “No one could have known what would happen. He decided at the last moment to accompany me when Randall didn’t—when Randall’s plans changed.”

“I would appreciate it,” Randall drawled beside her, “if you wouldn’t try to protect me when you don’t have the facts. It only makes matters worse.”

Leopold’s cold, smiling eyes were old in his young, handsome face. “So why don’t you tell me the truth, mister? Did you betray my brother?”

“Yes.”

There was a dead silence in the ancient Fiat. Maggie could hear the distant sound of birds in the trees overhead, the rustle of leaves in the wind. She could even hear their breathing—Leopold’s rapid and angry, and Randall’s even and controlled beside her. Her own heart hammered in sudden shock and disbelief.

“Maybe you’d better explain what you mean,” she said sharply. “Leopold is likely to misunderstand and think you literally betrayed Vasili to the secret police.”

“I did.”

Maggie considered moving away from him on the bench seat. At that point, she didn’t even want his blood splashed on her rumpled suit. But she stayed where she was, waiting, knowing there had to be more to it.

She waited for Leopold to cock the gun. He kept it on Randall, but his expression didn’t change. “Explain, mister.”

Randall shrugged his elegant, unconcerned shrug. “It was a choice given to me. I chose what seemed to be the lesser of two evils.”

“Not enough explanation, mister.”

“No,” Maggie said quietly, “not enough explanation. What happened on that day six years ago?”

His eyes met hers for a long, contemplative moment, and she wished she could read his thoughts as easily as he read hers. But as always, his thoughts and emotions were veiled, masked behind defenses that could never be breached. He looked at her, then turned back to Leopold with his usual self-control, ignoring the gun, ignoring the demands, making his own decision.

“Maggie and I had to get out of Eastern Europe. A bureaucrat named Miroslav Wadjowksa had agreed to provide phony passports. When I delivered the necessary photos, he developed a not-inconceivable passion for Maggie’s picture. He agreed to provide the papers if Maggie would be the one to retrieve them and provide a few hours’ entertainment at the same time.” He looked at Maggie’s still profile. “I could have
put pressure on him to do it without the added inducement of sex, but I wanted Maggie to be kept busy for a while.”

“Why?” Leopold demanded.

“Because I’d been followed for the previous two days. Vasili knew about it and warned me, but he didn’t know how much the secret police knew. When Maggie went off to pick up the papers, I went off to distract the police. I mistakenly thought I was clever enough to lead them on a wild-goose chase, away from Maggie, and then escape them on my own. I’d overestimated either my skills or their ineptitude.”

“They caught you?”

“They caught me. I must agree with your assessment of the secret police. They are not very nice men. Not very bright, either, but quite adept at finding out what they want to know. They gave me a choice. I could tell them the name of my contact, Vasili, or they would kill Maggie.”

Maggie’s swift intake of breath seared her lungs and burned her heart. She sat very still, staring at his averted profile, still saying nothing.

“So you decided my brother was expendable—is that how you say it, mister?” Leopold’s eyes glittered with rage.

“I decided that Vasili had a better chance of escaping than Maggie. Particularly since I was being—detained—in a back room of the government building where Maggie was getting the passports. After a little—physical persuasion—I gave them the name they wanted, and they kept their part of the bargain. They let Maggie go and went after your brother.”

Maggie shivered in the warm summer air. “Randall, they tortured you. You aren’t to blame for breaking under the pain.”

His smile was wintry. “It would take days of pain to break me, Maggie. I’m not saying I wouldn’t, sooner or later. But it would take more than a few broken bones to do it. I gave them Vasili because they already had you in custody. Vasili was still out there, he still had a chance. You would have had no chance at all.”

Leopold nodded. “You made the right decision, mister.
They would have killed her without hesitation, and then they would have found out what they wanted from you sooner or later. They are stupid men, but they know their job.” He lowered the gun. “They killed Vasili’s woman the way they would have killed yours. And Vasili watched, knowing that a word from him would have stopped them. He’s had to live with that, and there have been times when I think he would rather have died on the border. But this is a war, and Grilda knew the dangers as well as Vasili.”

“What?”

The boy shrugged and dropped the gun onto the seat beside him. “He told me to help you, that you were good people. He sent his special love to you, miss. His wife did not like that one bit, I tell you.” He turned back to start the car. “I am sorry I had to hold the gun on you, but I wanted to make sure you were worth risking my life for. I don’t take anyone’s word, not even my brother’s.”

“Leopold, what the hell are you talking about?” Randall’s cool distance had vanished. “Is Vasili alive?”

Leopold laughed, cheerful in the summer sunshine. “You think a few bullets would stop my brother? He’s as alive as you and me, training Resistance groups in the southern mountains. He has four sons of his own. He’s very much a man, Vasili is.”

“Four sons?” Maggie echoed faintly. “We’ve only been gone six years.”

“It took him a couple of years to recover from his time with the secret police,” Leopold said with an apologetic shrug. “He’s already got another little one on the way.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Amen,” said Leopold piously, yanking the steering wheel. Moments later, they were bumping over the rutted wheat field, back toward the highway.

Maggie leaned back against the seat, gripping the door handle. She wasn’t ready to be tossed back into Randall’s arms. There was too much information she had to digest before she could decide how she was going to react to all this. She could
feel his eyes on her, questioning, but she refused to meet his gaze. Shutting her own eyes, she pressed back against the backrest and did her best to shut out the world.

It was an uphill battle. She could feel his presence beside her, feel the tangible heat of his body, and she knew that all she had to do was relax her death grip on the door handle to be flung once more into his arms. It wouldn’t be her fault, and with luck he wouldn’t release her this time, either, and she could ride into Gemansk held safely in his arms. …

She was out of her mind! There was no longer any doubt of it. His quixotic gesture six years ago, which had almost killed a young man, didn’t change anything. Even though it proved he wasn’t a completely heartless villain, it still didn’t change the essential facts of his nature. Randall Carter was a cold man, incapable of love, laughter, and light. And the power he was once more exerting over her still scared the hell out of her.

The hotel room was small, dark, and depressing. True, it was the epitome of luxury compared with the one-room apartment they’d shared six years ago, but it wouldn’t take much to better that dour place. Maggie stared around at the drab green walls, the double bed with its garish orange bedspread, and the worn carpet beneath her feet and sighed.

Before he said a word, Randall made a thorough search of the room to make certain it wasn’t bugged. Then he went to the window and dropped the curtain back over the gloomy view. “Next time, let’s chase down leads in Monte Carlo,” he said. “I’m getting weary of Eastern Europe.”

Maggie sank down onto the bed, kicked off her high-heeled sandals, and looked at the man. He was becoming more and more of an enigma. “You want to tell me about it, Randall?” she said.

He stood there at the window, and the fitful sunshine outlined his tall, elegant body. He’d been remote and silent during the ride into Gemansk, centered on his own thoughts, and
Maggie had known there was no way she could break through. Just as there was no way now.

“Tell you about what?” he countered, dropping into the uncomfortable chair with a grimace. “I’m meeting Leopold alone. The fewer people the better. Remember I didn’t ask you to come along—you simply showed up.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” she said ruthlessly. “Not that that isn’t a separate issue, and if you think I’m going to wait in this damned hotel room while you go out and have all the fun—”

“Hardly fun, Maggie,” he said. “And you know as well as I do that it’s easier for two people to elude the secret police than three, especially when one of them is in high heels.”

“I brought my Nikes.”

“You can jog around the hotel room.”

“Randall, you are rapidly losing any gains you might have made in my esteem.”

“Good,” he said. “Don’t be a sentimental idiot, Maggie. That decision six years ago was based on common sense and nothing else. If I thought it would have saved the mission, I would have sacrificed you without a second thought.”

For a moment, she believed him. For a moment, she could see him discarding her life without hesitation or a backward glance. Then she let her gaze travel over the shuttered face, the stormy, unreadable eyes, the thin line of his mouth that so seldom curved in a smile, and suddenly she knew he had lied. He wouldn’t have sacrificed anyone if he could help it—his guilt over Vasili’s supposed death had clearly haunted him.

But her death would have been worse. It wasn’t ego or wishful thinking that made her realize that. She looked at that enigmatic face and simply knew.

“You could almost convince me,” she said softly, “except that I’m not quite as gullible as you think. I’ll tell you what really interests me right now—why you’re trying to convince me that you’re a cold-blooded monster. What do you want from me, Randall?”

A shadow crossed his face as he answered. “Not a thing,
Maggie, except to have you wait here like a good girl while I go meet with Leopold.”

“Good girl?” she echoed in an explosion of anger, knowing he’d goaded her on purpose, knowing and still being livid.

“I promise to save some of the ‘fun’ for you. I want your word, Maggie. Swear that you’ll stay here, or I’ll lock you in the bathroom.”

“Try it,” she taunted, holding her ground as he advanced on her.

He stopped just out of reach. “You don’t think I’d do it?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” he said softly. “I’d do it, and I’d turn off the lights. There’s no window in the bathroom, Maggie. It would be pitch black in there. And you’d be trapped, alone, in the darkness.”

She heard his words with a sickening feeling in the center of her stomach. It didn’t surprise her that he knew—Randall knew everything. He was a very thorough man, and Bud Willis took particular pleasure in his knowledge of her phobia. She wasn’t really surprised that Randall would use that knowledge to terrify her, either.

What surprised her was the look of pain that clouded his eyes as he threatened her with the one thing she wasn’t sure she could withstand.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” she said, her voice low.

He looked at her, measured her response, and then he gave her a short nod. Without another word, he left the room, closing the flimsy door behind him and leaving Maggie to stare after him. Confusion, rage, and determination swamped her as she huddled in the middle of the bed.