Exclusive (34 page)

Jenkins threatened to fire me if I gave you the time of day."

302 Sandra Brown

"Then you're in luck, Howie, because we already know the time of day,"

Gray Bondurant said.

"It's not that I don't want to talk to you, Barrie, it's just, you know-jeez, I gotta protect my interests. It's nothing personal, I swear. We parted friends, didn't we? No hard feelings. At least none on my side." His armpits were leaking like a ten-year-old garden hose. "I . . . I . . . Hey, wait, I have a message for you. Just a minute, I jotted it down on a slip."

He patted his pockets until he found it.

"Here," he said, extending her the note. "This call came in just as I was on my way out tonight. Said she was a friend of yours. Demanded to speak to you, so the operator put her through to me."

"Charlene Waiters," Barrie read.

"That's right. She said it was urgent and gave me her phone number. See, I wrote it down right there."

"She's not a friend. She's a nutcase who's always calling me."

"Oh." That was disappointing. Howie had hoped this Charlene might be somebody important, somebody Barrie wanted badly to speak to. He was trying his best to be helpful, but he didn't think Bondurant was impressed. His granite expression hadn't softened.

Howie watched fearfully as the tall, imposing hero pulled out the remaining chair at the table and sat down, straddling it backward. His movements were sinuous and silent. His eyes would give anybody the creeps.

Howie thought they seemed to drill straight through his skull. A sane person wouldn't mess with this hombre.

Barrie leaned against the kitchen counter and folded her arms. She looked relaxed and was smiling a smile that Howie knew was artificial. "You're sweating like a pig, Howie."

EXCLUSIVE 303

"I want to know why you're here."

"Gray and I just dropped by for a friendly little chat-"

"About what?"

"Oh, things. The weather. The Redskins' season. Do they have a snowball's chance in hell of getting into the playoffs? The new Harrison Ford movie.

What's going on at the White House. Things like that."

"1 don't know what's going on at the White House."

"Of course you do, Howie. You work in a newsroom."

"Barrie, please, give it up. You're only going to get into more trouble."

"I'm touched by your concern. Truly. But I'm more interested in what you've heard about the First Lady recently."

"Nothing."

"You must have."

"Swear to God."

"Since I'm no longer there, who's covering the beat?"

"Grant. He says it's tighter than a rich man's asshole over there.

Nothing's leaking."

"There's always something leaking. Rumor. Gossip. Reportedly Mrs. Merritt has gone away again. Why? Where? Has anyone seen her? Is her health that poor? Is her condition life-threatening?"

"I swear," he whined, "I don't know anything. Jeez, you've become obsessed, you know that? You've turned into a total wacko over this. How come you've got nothing on the brain except Mrs. Merritt? It isn't natural, Barrie. I think you've flipped out, is what I think."

Barrie pulled in a deep breath, then expelled it on a sigh. She looked at Gray and shook her head. "I told you he wouldn't cooperate. We might just as well go."

She headed for the door, but Gray stopped her. "We can't leave him to tell the feds we were here asking questions."

304 Sandra Brown

"Hmm, I suppose you're right." She looked down at Howie with a dubious frown.

He was distinctly uneasy with the tone their conversation had taken. "I'm not going to tell anybody you were here."

"I'm afraid we can't take that chance." Bondurant reached inside his jacket and withdrew a pistol from the waistband of his pants.

Howie began chanting, "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh Jesus, oh shit, oh God. I don't want to die. I don't. I don't. Don't kill me. Please."

With a terrifying click, Gray pulled back the hammer on his Magnum revolver.

Howie squeezed his eyes shut and he began to sputter. "B . . . Barrie, p

. . . please, you can't let him kill me. We were friends."

"Friends? Friends, Howie? You can't be serious." She laughed. "Friends don't sell each other out, which is what you always did to me with Jenkins. You treated me like crap every day I worked with you. Besides, I don't make Gray's decisions. If he's made up his mind not to leave you to rat on us, there's really nothing I can do about it. But I'd rather not watch. I'd never eat Chinese food again. Gray, do you mind waiting till I get into the other room?"

"Pleeeeeze," Howie begged with a sustained sob. "For God's sake, Barrie."

"Sorry. It really is out of my control." She pushed away from the counter.

On her way out, she paused to press his shoulder in a final farewell.

Bondurant stretched his arm across the table and pressed the bore of the pistol against the center of Howie's forehead.

"I did hear something but I don't know if it's true or not." The words rolled out so fast, they tumbled over one another like circus acrobats.

EXCLUSIVE 305

Barrie stopped, turned. She was frowning skeptically. "You'd tell us anything now. You'd make something up just to keep Gray from shooting you."

"No, no, I swear. I swear, Mr. Bondurant." He drew an invisible X over his heart.

"What have you heard?"

"There's a rumor that Mrs. Merritt has been checked into a hospital for substance abuse."

"Old story," Barrie said. "There was speculation on that before."

"This time it's serious," Howie said nervously. Bondurant was still scowling.

"What hospital?"

"I don't know. No one knows. And it could be just gossip."

Bondurant looked across at Barrie. Barrie shook her head. Bondurant shrugged and bumped Howie's forehead with the pistol again.

"D . . . Dr. Allan takes a helicopter from the White House lawn every day," he rushed on. "He's usually back in an hour, hour and a half. But nobody knows where he's going or even if these quick trips have anything to do with the First Lady. And there's talk that he has trouble at home."

"The Allans' marriage is solid," Bondurant said. "I've been around them.

They're crazy about each other."

"He and the missus aren't getting along. That's the gossip. So maybe he's flying off to visit some skirt, who knows?"

Howie turned his head, looking hopefully at Barrie, then at Bondurant. "I swear to God that's it. That's all I've heard. Jenkins said he'd shove the Washington Monument up my ass if I even talked to you. So, if you do anything with this info, you can't let him know I told you. Promise, Barrie, okay?"

306 Sandra Brown

"What do you think?" Bondurant asked her. "Is he lying?"

"I'm not!" Howie cried.

"I'm not sure," she said, gnawing the inside of her cheek. "He could be, just to save himself. On the other hand, he knows that if he's feeding us bullshit, you'll only come back for him."

"I'm not. You won't," Howie said hastily.

Bondurant fixed a blue-hot gaze on him. Howie's entire life flashed before his eyes at least three times before Bondurant uncocked the hammer and withdrew the pistol. "Tell you what, Howie. I won't kill you tonight if you give us a reason to come back tomorrow."

"What for?"

"The name of the hospital. That's not asking too much, is it? The name of a hospital in exchange for a nice takeout Chinese meal like you've got yourself there, and a chance to eat it."

"I don't. . . How am I gonna find out the name of the-"

"That's your problem. But I bet you come through."

"Don't count on it," Barrie said. "He'll agree to anything to save his sorry butt. Then he'll probably double-cross us."

"No I won't!" Howie squealed. "Swear to God I won't, Mr. Bondurant." "Do what you want, Gray," Barrie said. "But I don't trust him. He's a maggot."

"Thanks for reminding me." Bondurant's voice sent chills up Howie's clammy spine. "She tells me that you used to give her a hard time at work, Howie."

"That's not true."

"He's not only a sexist sleazoid, he's a lying sexist sleazoid," she said.

The dangerous blue eyes narrowed another fraction of an inch.

EXCLUSIVE 307

Howie squirmed in his seat. "Okay, maybe . . . maybe I did joke with her some, but I never meant anything by it."

"You look like the kind of guy who would make lewd comments to a woman because you can't get her attention any other way."

"That's exactly what he did," Barrie said.

"That's right, I did." Howie's enthusiastic nod of agreement made his head wobble on his neck. "Whatever Barrie says, I'm guilty as charged." "Did you make snide comments about her sex drive, her love life, her figure, her sex in general?"

"Sometimes."

"You stared at her legs, ogled her breasts, said and did things that diminish a woman's dignity."

"Yeah, I did that. Sure did. I'm sorry as hell about it too."

"Really?" Gray said dryly.

"Really. Yes, sir. If I don't regret it, may I be struck blind for lying."

Bondurant thoughtfully tapped the barrel of the pistol against the back of the chair. "If I ever hear of you insulting or mistreating her again, I'm going to be pissed, Howie. You'll pray to be struck blind rather than have me after you."

"I . . . I understand."

"What about tomorrow?"

"I'll try to find out what you want."

"I hope you come through for us."

Relaxing, Howie smiled. "'Cause you'd hate to kill me, right?"

"No. Because I'd hate to waste a perfectly good bullet making mush of your brain."

Abruptly Bondurant rose, stuffing the pistol back into his waistband. He then disappeared into the bedroom. Without a word, Barrie followed.

308 Sandra Brown

"Where are you going?" Howie called after them. "Hey! What time tomorrow?

Where?"

He was answered only by a malevolent silence. When he finally worked up enough courage to leave the kitchen and venture into his bedroom, it was empty. His guests seemed to have vaporized. If not for the wet stain on the front of his trousers, he might have imagined the whole terrifying episode.

9 felt sorry for him."

"Don't. When you compared him to a maggot, you insulted maggots everywhere."

They had left Howie's apartment via the fire escape and bedroom window through which they'd entered, and were on their way back to Daily's house.

Barrie was staring pensively through the windshield of the car that Gray had stolen without a qualm. "You're a scary guy, Bondurant. You really frightened him."

"Fear's a good motivator."

"I wonder if it's the most effective one, though."

"We'll know tomorrow night."

"He was trying to be helpful." She fished the note Howie had given her from her pocket. "Good of Charlene," she said with a light laugh.

"Apparently she hasn't learned that I'm no longer employed at WVUE. I never actually spoke to her, but she was a faithful caller." On impulse, Barrie asked Gray to pull over to the curb and park in front of a pharmacy.

He did as she asked and got out of the car with her. "Drugstore's closed,"

he remarked.

310 Sandra Brown

"I don't need the drugstore. I want to use the pay phone."

He glanced around. "Not a great neighborhood to be loitering on a street corner."

"I feel reasonably safe, what with the security lights inside the store and you with that portable cannon inside your pants." He gave her an arch look. "You flatter yourself, Bondurant. Got any change?"

The number Howie had written was in an area code unfamiliar to her. To avoid phone records, she didn't use her calling card, but fed coins into the slots. After much pinging and ganging, the call went through. It rang several times. She was about to hang up when someone finally answered.

"Yon"

"Excuse me?" She raised her hand, indicating to Gray that her call had been answered.

"Who gave y'all this numbah?"

"Uh, Charlene Walters," Barrie replied. "May I speak with her please?"

The only response to her request was a phlegmy laugh punctuated by nasal snorts.

"Is Ms. Walters there?"

"Yeah, she's here. But this phone is off limits after lockdown."

"Lockdown?" Barrie looked up at Gray, who registered the same surprise as she. "Exactly where are you?" she asked.

"Central Corrections. Pearl, Miss'ippi."

"Is Ms. Walters an inmate there?"

"She is that-for a helluva long time too. How come y'all're calling her?"

"Who am I speaking with, please?"

The man identified himself as a guard who just happened to be passing by the pay phone when it rang. She

EXCLUSIVE 311

asked if it was possible for her to speak with the warden. "This time o'

night? You a lawyer or what?"

She finessed her way around a direct answer and conveyed to him how vitally important it was for her to speak with a prison official, stressing that the matter could not wait until morning. "Okay," the guard grumbled. "Gimme the numbah where you're at. If he sees fit, he can call you back."

Barrie would rather have had the warden's number, but she settled on giving the guard the number of the pay phone. When she hung up, Gray asked how an inmate in a Mississippi prison would know about her.

"The SIDS series was fed to a satellite. It could have been aired on any TV station in the country. Apparently a station that goes into the prison ran it. Prisoners frequently get fixated on celebrities. Although I know it's a stretch to think of me as a celebrity."

"Why is it `vitally important' that you speak to her tonight?"

"It isn't," she admitted. "Most of her messages consisted of calling me an idiot. I'm just curious to know why she thought so." Gray's eyes were narrowed in concentration. "What?" she asked.

"I was just thinking. Both David and Vanessa are from Mississippi."

"You're right, they are," Barrie said, grabbing the telephone receiver on the first ring. "Hello, this is Barrie Travis."