Authors: Kay Hooper
“Has she
always
done things like this?” Brian asked incredulously.
Josh pulled a gold cigarette case from his inside pocket, not answering until his cigarette was lighted. Then, with a chuckle, he said, “I think the first plot involved saving four homeless puppies. In fact she got a neighborhood animal shelter established—which is still operating to this day. Rena was seven at the time.”
Brian thought about that. “Remarkable. But still … A plot like this one. You knew … I mean—”
“Knew she wanted to marry you?” Josh nodded. “I knew. Sorry about my part in all this, by the way, even if it was only window dressing. Serena’s always been able to wrap me around her little finger, I’m afraid. There’s usually no danger in that.” He looked at Brian from hooded eyes. “She has an innate ability to make most people happy. Tricks and all.”
Brian avoided the look, sipping his drink slowly. He couldn’t fight his own curiosity, and he couldn’t stop his sharp mind from working. “Control,” he said suddenly. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
Josh followed the thought unerringly. “Control. It probably wouldn’t have become so much a part of her personality, except for Mother’s death.”
Brian met that hooded gaze steadily. “But your mother was killed.”
Nodding slowly Josh said, “Under very difficult circumstances. Serena was ten; there was no way to keep the truth from her. She learned, long before she should have, that there were cruel,
malevolent people in the world. People who were willing to destroy to get what they wanted. It wasn’t a—very nice lesson. It was a lesson never forgotten.”
It chilled Brian to think of a ten-year-old little girl’s tragically shocking realization that people could be unspeakably cruel, impersonally vicious.
Softly he said, “Ten years old. She could have withdrawn, become possessive of those she loved. She could have learned to mistrust, to be wary and frightened. It would have been completely natural, even expected.”
Josh nodded. “Instead she became even more softhearted and—I think—even more innocent. She’s complex, layers and layers to her, but the core, the basic core, is still vulnerable and insanely trusting.”
Oddly enough, Brian found no paradox there. It made sense to him somehow. Because it was Serena they were discussing, it made sense.
Abruptly Josh said, “She hasn’t told you about her children.”
It wasn’t a question, but Brian answered, “No, she hasn’t.”
“Foster kids. All over the world. And she doesn’t just give money to support them, she sends letters, presents. She visits them if she can. And she keeps up with the news, the politics, of every country where one of her kids lives. She worries about them but never talks about them. The pictures they send her are tacked up all over her bedroom at home.”
“Layers,” Brian murmured.
Josh watched him for a moment, then said softly, “She’s honest except when it would hurt someone or when she’s up to her tricks. And even when she’s plotting, it tends to be evasion or implication rather than lies. The scary thing is that she’s almost always right. In fact I’ve never known her to be wrong. Except maybe this time.”
Brian didn’t take the bait. He was afraid of what he’d most likely catch. Changing the subject determinedly he said, “These implied threats to Stuart, what about them?”
Accepting the change, Josh sighed. “Didn’t look like much at first; Stuart’s dealt with worse. But we found out a few days ago that you two were traced as far as Wichita. And Stuart’s contacts
in the intelligence community aren’t having much luck in finding out who’s behind it all. That in itself is unusual enough to put us on alert.”
“If these people found Serena,” Brian said slowly, “what would they do?”
“Take her, probably. Before she could get away again,” Josh answered bluntly. “Hold her somewhere as a threat. Use her to force Stuart to give in. And he would, of course, if she was in danger. They know that.”
“Would they hurt her?”
“If Stuart refused to give in,” Josh said levelly.
Brian believed him. Still, he could hardly help but protest. “But if they kidnap Serena and force Stuart to give in to them, he’ll know for certain who’s behind it all. And with a serious crime like that to charge them with—”
Josh was shaking his head. “The corporate power guys behind this plot could never be traced. That would be too easy. Whoever does their dirty work will be professionals, with no connection whatsoever to the power men; and whoever makes Stuart the offer will do so in all
innocence, completely ignorant of any threats or coercion.”
“Then how in God’s name does Stuart expect to track them down?” Brian asked violently.
Josh smiled just a little. “Sure you want to know?”
“I want to know.”
“All right. First consider the entire situation. Someone—unknown—wants Stuart. And this someone is prepared to play some very dirty games to get him. Now, we both know business is sometimes dirty, but for most of us respectable businessmen it usually stops short of violence. But not these guys. Rarely do they have the best interests of the economy or our country at heart.”
Josh reflected for a moment in silence, then went on. “In spite of having left the intelligence community years ago, Stuart very naturally keeps in touch. The community knows the danger of a scientist of Stuart’s caliber working for the wrong people. So it’s more than willing to help to avert that danger.
“Right now a number of people are trying to trace the men who were asking questions about
the two of you in Wichita. The trail is a tangled one, but movements can be traced. Eventually the intelligence people will discover who these men work for. They won’t have courtroom proof, you understand, but they’ll be certain.”
Brian did understand. “And when they’re certain?”
Josh smiled faintly. “That’s when the intelligence people can trace the nice, respectable, powerful men behind this whole thing. Then they’ll start what the law so cruelly calls harassment. Nothing overt. Nothing illegal. Soon after that, these powerful men will begin to have problems with their businesses. Small problems. A great many small problems. Costly problems.”
“Trade-offs.” Brian came to the realization slowly. “The intelligence community trades off with law enforcement.”
Nodding, Josh said, “It’s done all the time. Very quietly. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. They’re masters at it. And they’ll make it so quietly hot for the businessmen, they’ll decide it just isn’t worth it.”
“How long will that take?”
“Not as long as you might think. These ‘businessmen’ will figure out pretty quickly what’s happening. And they’ll move to cut their losses.”
For a while the two men were silent. Brian beckoned the waitress, and they ordered fresh drinks. He noted that the other man seemed to avoid so much as a glance at the waitress; he was mildly curious, but unwilling to ask questions. Finally, with their drinks in front of them and the waitress gone again, Brian focused on his paramount worry.
“What’re the chances these men will find Serena before any moves can be made against them?”
Josh looked grim. “Their chances get better with every day that passes. All we can do is be on guard until we find out who’s behind this.”
“Dammit, that’s—She should be somewhere safe. Protected.” Brian felt violent.
“Surrounded by guards?” Josh shook his head. “In the first place Rena wouldn’t stand for it; she remembers too well being guarded after Mother was killed. But, even more, it would alert the men behind this. They’d call off their dogs and our trail would end right there. Then, when the smoke
cleared and Serena was no longer being guarded, they’d grab her. She’d be missing, we’d be hamstrung, and Stuart would have to give in.”
Brian could see the logic; it was inescapable. But he wasn’t happy about it.
Josh read his expression clearly. “It probably won’t make you feel any better,” he said dryly, “but Serena can take care of herself. Stuart made sure both of us could; he was very careful about that. As a result she’s skilled in the martial arts. She even knows a few exotic techniques specifically designed for small ladies. I’d hate to tangle with her, and I’m a black belt.”
“It makes me feel a little better,” Brian confessed.
Josh finished his drink, then sent a regretful glance toward the blond pianist. “I think I’ll turn in. It’s been a long day. The P.I.’s already on the job; he’ll keep an eye on things tonight. I gather you aren’t returning to California?”
Brian shook his head. “I’m staying.” They both rose to their feet, and left the bar. Brian glanced around the lobby as they passed through, but saw no one who fit his image of a private investigator.
“In the corner,” Josh murmured.
Taking a surreptitious look, Brian saw the man. He was middle-aged, and ordinary in every respect, and was flirting outrageously with the waitress who had served them their drinks.
In the elevator going up, Brian said uneasily, “Are you sure he’s the right man for the job? Seemed careless.”
“He’s fine, believe me.”
Brian accepted his word, trusting that Stuart’s stepson had experience in these matters.
Josh’s room was a floor above Brian’s, so the men said good night in the elevator. Without Josh’s company Brian immediately found that thinking, however confused his thoughts, came far too easily. And as worried as he was over Serena’s safety, the words
I fell in love with you
were still whirling in his mind.
He hadn’t responded to those words, he remembered, except to say, “Do you expect me to believe you?”
That, more than anything else, bothered him. His emotions were impossibly tangled. And between the more intimate knowledge of her that
Josh had offered and his own strong feelings, Brian was certain that, however many layers Serena wrapped herself in, she was basically a very vulnerable woman.
A woman who could be hurt.
Thoughts of plots and tricks were forgotten. Brian remembered only a little girl weathering a tragic shock and a woman who had looked at him with quiet eyes and spoken not a single word in defense of herself.
He wasn’t surprised to find himself knocking softly at her door. He heard movement, then a brief silence before the quiet clatter of the night chain, and the door opened. She had first looked through the security peephole, he realized, and he was glad she was at least that careful.
She was dressed for bed, and his breath caught in his throat at the lovely picture she made in the floor-length violet gown and negligee, her hair loose and feet bare. Then he saw her red-rimmed eyes, and his heart lurched when he realized she’d been crying.
She gestured silently for him to come in, then
closed the door and followed him into the room. “Have you talked to Josh?” Her voice was soft.
Brian turned to face her. “Yes. He explained the situation.”
“And?”
He understood her question. “I’m staying.”
Serena drew a deep breath, then said hesitantly, “Since you’re staying, maybe we … Well, I know you won’t forgive me for the tricks, but maybe we could still be friends?”
“Just friends?”
“I—yes.”
He reached to cup her cheek in his warm hand. “I don’t think so, Serena.” He saw and felt a slight tremor within her.
“I was afraid of that,” she murmured.
Evenly he said, “I don’t think it’s possible for you and me to be just friends. More, or less, but never just friends.”
She looked at him silently, waiting.
“We can’t go back,” he said, “and this seems to be a hell of a time to go forward. But I’m willing if you are.”
“You’re just feeling responsible for me. I don’t want that, Brian.”
“I am feeling responsible,” he admitted quietly. “But not because I think of you as a kid, and not because you’re Stuart’s daughter.”
“Then why?” she whispered.
He was silent for a long moment, looking intently at her, as though he was searching for something. “I’m not quite sure,” he said finally. “Maybe because you seem vulnerable in spite of your tricks. And maybe because the tricks worked.” His voice was wry, the admission a reluctant one.
She returned his intent gaze uncertainly. “You mean you were—”
“Jealous?” He smiled. “Why do you think I knocked Josh down? Not out of any sense of responsibility, I can tell you that. You’re of age, after all; who am I to get angry over your interest in another man? But I did get angry, Rena. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about you, but I couldn’t stand the thought of your being with him.”
Serena sighed shakily. “Then you think we should go on from here?”
He nodded. “I don’t know where we’ll end up. I can’t make you any promises, Rena.”
Serena didn’t ask him to explain that; she merely nodded. It was enough, and more than she’d dared hope for. She had another chance with Brian, and this time she resolved to be completely herself, with no plot driving her.
Of course, that wasn’t to say something wouldn’t occur to her later.
The next day should have been an awkward day for them both, and would have been, except for the terrible Bishop kids. Brian had forgotten all about Serena’s promise to baby-sit.
He wished she had too.
On waking, Brian discovered a message from Serena that she had elected to keep the children for the entire day, and that they would remain in the hotel or garden.
He ordered breakfast from room service to fortify himself.
He considered staying in his room for the day, but he very quickly found that he was too anxious
over Serena’s safety. He checked her room, and, since it was empty, he sighed and went in search of her and the Terrible Two.
Brian didn’t quite know how to greet Serena. Their good nights had been constrained, and now he was feeling very guarded and uncertain. He still wasn’t quite sure why he had forgiven her scheming and why he was willing—eager, even—to allow their relationship to progress.
And, since he was not a man who was often uncertain about anything, the feeling disturbed him.
Walls. She had said he had walls, yet she hadn’t defined those barriers; he had a strong feeling she could have, though.
And that bothered him too. How, he wondered, could she define what he couldn’t define himself? He had told her he didn’t want to get involved, she’d said. He honestly couldn’t remember telling her that.