Amanda cut off Callaway's marital reminiscences. “You're sure Noelle called from Las Vegas yesterday? I tried her cell today and it was out of service.”
Edward shrugged. “That’s where she said she was. I’m sure she went there. The papers came from an attorney there.”
Amanda persisted. “She didn’t give you a phone number when she called?”
He pointed to a pad beside the kitchen telephone. “She gave me the number of the hotel where she’s staying.” Teddy started grumbling.
Callaway whipped out his cell, punched in the information.
Amanda said, “Edward, are you absolutely sure there’s no chance you and Noelle can get back together?”
“No. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go through this again. I have to do what’s best for my son.” Edward's expression was unyielding. “I hate to rush you off, but I have to get him over to Mother's. She agreed to keep him today.”
Callaway, cell put away, bumped her chair. “We're in the way, Mandy.”
Her reproof was automatic. “Don't call me Mandy.”
“Okay.” He pulled her to her feet. “Let's go. Amanda.”
His directive reminded her of her precarious position. If he couldn't find Noelle, he would hold her liable for the theft of his valuables as he had every right to do.
And now Noelle's marriage had fallen apart despite her efforts.
Oh, Noelle, how could you? How could you leave Teddy? How could you lie to me
?
That last was the big thing. A younger Noelle had occasionally fibbed, but this was a deliberate, calculated lie.
Someone had talked Noelle into this, coached her. Otherwise Amanda would have recognized the signs that her sister was not telling the truth.
She plastered on a smile and said her goodbyes to Edward and little Teddy. She had to find Noelle.
Chapter Ten
So Noelle had flown the coop. He still had to find her.
As Cal drove the rented car back to the airport, Amanda stared out the window at the Alabama scenery.
He noted her withdrawal as he tried to remember where he had heard Las Vegas mentioned. Someone had been there recently or was going soon. Who had been speaking? And in what context? He couldn't remember.
Oh, well. It would come to him. He had a better memory than most people gave him credit for.
Amanda sat still and quiet, head laid against the headrest with her face averted. Was she brooding? A different kind of silence lay over her from the one coming out. That silence had radiated hostility. This one was subdued.
He didn't understand what was going on behind this kind of silence, and things he didn't understand bothered Cal.
Not understanding meant failure.
He had failed his mother because he'd never understood her expectations and so couldn't live up to them. He had failed at his first job because he hadn't understood the importance of paperwork. He had failed his wives because he'd never understood they wanted the perks of being his wife but didn't want him in the bargain.
But the worst failure was with Claire because he'd misunderstood Amanda's come-hither act.
Since he couldn't chance losing the journal because he didn't understand her silence, he probed. “You weren't much help in finding out who Noelle's accomplice was.”
“I didn't know Noelle's marriage had gotten to this point. If I'd known, maybe I could have done something, made her see divorce wasn’t an option.”
He noted the stiff set of the shoulders and back of her head. Was she about to cry? No, he thought, she's way too tough for crying, especially about her sister's divorce.
If she didn't cry when I cornered her, she isn't about to cry now.
He hadn’t treated her very nicely. He'd never lifted a hand to a woman till Amanda, but with her, he'd given way to anger.
Like a bully.
To allay his guilt, he talked. “Noelle's an adult. Her choices are her responsibility.”
“No. You don’t understand. Noelle's never grown up. She doesn't realize how people can be hurt, how she can hurt herself. Until she married Edward, I always watched out for her.”
Cal had been around enough females to hear the throaty quiver signaling that, despite her toughness, Amanda Jane was very near to crying. So she cared about her moronic sister. Empathy rolled in. “Why do you worry about her so?”
“She's my sister.” The hand that had rested on the door's armrest went up to shade her eyes. “Sometimes she isn't very smart, but she's still my sister and I love her.”
He had a sister, too, dammit, one a hundred times more deserving than Noelle. This whole frigging mess was Amanda’s fault. Amanda had let herself be duped by her lying sister and in turn had duped him. Amanda was responsible for all his problems.
He fanned indignation, but indignation refused to flare.
Oh, hell, it was his own damned fault for being so weak when it came to his penis. He had let Claire down, and that was the bottom line. After all the years when she'd listened and advised and protected him against Lila, he'd let Claire down. His problems were caused by him and nobody else.
He saw Amanda furtively wipe at a cheek, but he didn't care. Amanda could shed a thousand tears and he wouldn't care. No doubt they were fake, anyway, as fake as Scarlet Smith.
Still, a weeping woman bothered him, even one who was a thief. He made an effort to revive irritation. “Huh. From what I've seen, your sister can look out for herself. She got you to do her dirty work for her while she left her husband holding the baby. Literally.”
When Amanda didn't answer, he taunted her. If he could get her to blow up, he could dispel his misplaced compassion. “Ten to one her boyfriend helped set you up so they could get their hands on my diamonds. You would have balked at stealing them, I assume. Or would you? Would you have balked at outright theft?”
Damn, how frigging nasty he sounded.
But his taunts accomplished what he hoped.
Her head whipped around. Her eyes blazed. “Of course I would have balked at stealing them. What do you think I am?”
His own impotence brought out a mirthless laugh. “I know what you are, sugar, and don't you forget it.”
The gray eyes clouded before they turned back toward the window. A delicate pink stained her neck.
Tough, he told himself. She brought it on herself, letting her frigging sister talk her into conning me.
He wished he didn't feel like the guilty one.
* * * *
What do you think I am
?
Humiliation brought on by her own ridiculous question remained as they drove into Birmingham. Amanda knew perfectly well what Callaway thought she was. A thief and a slut. What else could he think?
Noelle had a lot to answer for. Amanda couldn’t rationalize her sister's behavior this time or blame it on her handicap. There was no excuse for what Noelle had done.
Nor was there any excuse for what Amanda had done.
Callaway broke into her self-castigations. “Nearly one o'clock our time. We'll have lunch near the airport.” He wasn't suggesting. He was telling. At one point she might have protested his autocratic ways, but now she meekly submitted.
In a restaurant's parking lot, he used his cellphone to call the number copied off Edward's pad. “She's been at the Las Vegas Hilton,” he told Amanda when he'd finished. “She isn’t there now.”
He’d regained his laidback, sleepy air but she noted the strained mouth, the tense shoulders.
“It's not a cheap place to stay.” He dialed again, and repeated the information to an unseen confederate. A third, unsuccessful call, maybe to his sister, was made before they went inside the restaurant. When she came out of the ladies room, he was putting his cell away again.
Amanda, hoping her ordeal was almost over, tried to ignore the pounding in her head so that she could carry on a civil conversation over lunch. The memory of their first erotic encounter lay as a tangible reminder of their unwanted alliance; but in spite of their mutual distrust, a sort of armed truce prevailed.
The more accommodating she was, the less likely he would be to file charges against her and Noelle, and criminal charges were her main worry. She would figure out what to do about his stolen valuables later.
If there was anything she could do. How much would a set of diamond studs cost? Ten thousand dollars? Fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? That much money would take years to repay, but she'd do it if she had to sell everything she had.
“What would you say your diamonds are worth?” she asked when an opportunity arose.
“Why? Thinking about claiming a finder's fee?”
There was no hostility; his response seemed automatic. She pushed the food around her plate, appetite gone.
He didn't eat much either. His head might be aching as much as hers.
At the cashier's stand, small boxes of pain relievers lay stacked alongside the mints and toothpicks. She bought one and swallowed two tablets, dry, in the car, not bothering to offer him any.
Let him suffer
.
Instinct prickled when they drove up to the Birmingham airport instead of the smaller one where they had landed.
Why were they here? She already knew Callaway McIntyre was organized, a trait she could appreciate because to manage her business, she cultivated it. Still, she was unprepared when, on leaving the rental car counter, he took her elbow and steered her into the crowd saying, “Let's pick up our tickets.”
She forgot her headache. “What tickets?”
The smile that transformed him into a brute appeared. A jaw muscle clenched and unclenched. “The Cessna had to go back to Atlanta so we'll have to fly commercial to Las Vegas.”
“Las Vegas.” She stopped in midstride.
“Didn't I tell you?” he drawled. “Yep, we're going to Las Vegas, Miss Scarlet. Won't we have fun?”
After one stunned moment, Amanda forgot her resolve to be agreeable. “I have to get back to my shop.” She stayed in the middle of the crowded lobby, her voice rising. “You told me we'd be back this afternoon.”
A man bumped into her and muttered apologies. Two women pulling large cases made a production of getting around her. Amanda stood her ground. “You told me!”
Callaway dragged her aside. His grip was businesslike. His shoulders concealed her agitation from passers-by. “Any time you say the word, I'll file charges. And don't think I'd mind putting you and your sister in prison.”
Amanda balled her trembling hands. His woodsy scent drifted around her.
He released her arm. “I did tell you we were able to lift fingerprints from my room the night you...” his voice lowered, “…umm, took advantage of me, didn't I?” When she made no reply, he added, “It's your call. Las Vegas or jail.”
Anger gave way to despair. Looking down, a bruise on her wrist reminded her of their encounter the day before. No need for rough stuff, not with the threat of jail. “I'll come.”
“Somehow I thought you might.”
“I need to call Melissa, have her cancel my appointments tomorrow.”
“As soon as we pick up our tickets.” He nudged her forward. “And better cancel your appointments for the rest of the week.”
“The rest of the week?” She stopped again. “Look, I can't be gone the rest of the week. I have a business to run.”
“I don't know how long it'll take to find your sister. You heard what Edward said about depositing her settlement. She and her boyfriend aren't raising money to squander in the casinos, sugar. With what they get for my diamonds, they can retire to South America.”
“South America?” Dear God, Noelle couldn’t leave the country. “How much do you think your diamonds will bring?”
“If they have a buyer, and I suspect they do, five million is the least they'll take.”
Her mouth fell open. She ignored the crowd around them. “Five million,” she repeated faintly. Her surroundings began to spin, darken. She swayed, felt his hand bracing her and was glad of its support. The terminal came back into focus. “Dollars?”
His expression was curious. Appraising. “Nice bit of pocket change, isn't it? Enough to live on in South America for a while. Not that I wouldn't give every cent to have that book back,” he muttered. The harsh smile glinted as he pulled her into the crowd. “Don't worry too much, Scarlet. I've got people down there, too.”
They'd better get somewhere they could sit down soon, or else her shaking legs would give completely away.
Five million dollars.
* * * *
Cal worked to whip up the old anger, but her dismay caught him off guard. What the hell had she thought a set of stones like that would be worth? And why was she looking so sick? She was conniving, deceitful and a liar.
It didn't work. His eyes involuntarily returned to her wrist and its bruise. He knew the cause. He wanted to beg her pardon here in the airport but clamped his teeth together.
She doesn't deserve any apologies. She doesn't deserve any consideration at all.
Claire was the one he needed to worry about.