Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
“Some place near the waterfront. Lots of glass, great view. I don't remember the name. Then I walked back to my hotel and had a couple of drinks before going to bed. Hardly a wild evening.”
“You walked from the Market back to your hotel? Alone?”
“Why not? Seattle is a very friendly town.”
“Tourist luck,” Hannah marveled. “You should have caught a cab.”
“I'll remember that next time. How was your going-away party?”
“Lousy.”
For some reason that got his attention. “Lousy? Did your leg hurt?”
“That wasn't the problem.”
“Then what was the problem?” he asked with exaggerated patience.
“It took the form of am uncomfortable social situation. What might be called a scene.” Hannah accepted a cup of coffee from the cabin attendant and waited as Gideon did the same. “I got into an embarrassing argument,” she continued bluntly as the attendant moved on to the next row. “I hate scenes. Especially ones in which I humiliate myself.”
“Are we discussing a scene with a man?” Gideon swallowed the contents of his coffee cup in two long gulps. He seemed grateful for the small comfort.
He really did look somewhat the worse for wear, Hannah decided. His hair had been combed with a too-careful hand, the severe style only serving to point up the grimness around his eyes and mouth. He was wearing a pair of tan pants and an open-necked cotton work shirt. Both garments looked a little crushed, as if they had been yanked out of a flight bag and not been given a chance to unwrinkle.
“No. A scene with a woman. Vicky Armitage. She's an anthro professor. I think I mentioned her. She knows I'm going to Santa Inez to deal with my aunt's library. Wants me to turn it over to someone who is competent to analyze it. Someone who can appreciate the true value of Elizabeth Nord's records and notes.”
“And that someone isn't a guidance counselor?”
Hannah smiled wryly. “Sometimes you can be amazingly insightful.”
“How did you humiliate and embarrass yourself?”
Hannah sighed, remembering the small scene. “I tried to hold my own in a field in which I am eminently underqualified.”
“Anthropology?”
“Uh-huh. Normally I have sense enough not to get in over my head with the academic crowd, but Vicky really annoyed me last night. I found myself feeling what could only be described as hostile and aggressive.”
“What a coincidence.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind,” Gideon instructed. “Tell me what happened.”
“There isn't much to tell, really. I went a few rounds in the ring with someone who is way out of my league and I came away looking like an idiot. Vicky started going on and on about the importance of my aunt's papers to the scientific community. She said that Elizabeth Nord's work could be viewed as a prime example of the radical extremes to which participants in the old nature versus nurture controversy were willing to go.”
“You're losing me,” Gideon warned.
“During the first half of the century anthropologists were split on the issue of nature versus nurture,” Hannah explained. “Some were absolutely convinced that heredity or nature determined all the various aspects of culture and human behavior. The other group was equally sure that culture molded human behavior, that a human being developed along whatever lines his culture dictated. Both sides were partially right and partially wrong, of course. Heredity and culture are intertwined, each contributing something to the formation of human personality. But back in those days anthropologists fought to the last ditch over the matter. Vicky claims that my aunt was on the nurture side and that she skewed her findings on Revelation Island to fit the claim that culture was everything. She thinks the Nord papers might prove that.”
“And you attempted to defend your aunt?”
“I should have known better. It's been so long since I was in graduate school. I've forgotten the nuances of that kind of infighting.” Hannah shook her head, regretting that she had made a fool of herself. “And I'd forgotten all the heavyweight names and the important monographs. I couldn't begin to remember the appropriate books and papers. Vicky brought out all the big guns.”
“And you came off looking like a noncontender.”
“Not unlike the way I looked after you'd finished with Accelerated Design.”
Gideon groaned. “Could we forget that incident?”
“Are you apologizing?” she asked a little too sweetly.
“Would it do any good?”
“No, and I wouldn't buy it for a minute.” She stretched out her weak leg, absently rubbing her knee through the fabric of her khaki slacks. “Are you running off to Santa Inez to escape the young gunslinger?”
“Ballantine? Maybe.”
“That doesn't fit, either. Not like you to admit you're afraid of another man.”
“Maybe you should quit trying to predict my actions on the basis of what little you know about me, Hannah.”
“Perhaps you're right.”
There was a pause and then Gideon asked cautiously. “What would you tell Ballantine if he came to you for advice?”
“You mean, what would I tell you if this were nine years ago?”
“Something like that,” Gideon admitted.
“I suppose I'd give you a lecture on the futility of building a career based on revenge.” Hannah finished her coffee. “But to tell you the truth, this morning I'm not sure my heart would be in my work. Quite frankly, after my little scene with Professor Armitage last night, revenge as a motivating factor suddenly makes a certain amount of sense.”
“Feeling vengeful?”
Hannah's mouth curved in a faint grin. “Do you know what would really frost Vicky Armitage?”
“What?”
“If I were to write the big, revealing book on Elizabeth Nord's career myself. I know just how I'd do it, too. I wouldn't get it published through some high-class university press so that only academic types would read it. I'd send it to some huge, commercial New York publisher. Get it packaged as a hot, controversial, pop science best-seller. You know the type. The academic community scoffs at them but television picks them up for a big special. Since a lot of my aunt's work was on the role of women in society, I'm sure there would be an audience for a book about her. Women love to read stuff like that. I'd make it juicy instead of bone dry, go light on the science and heavy on the good stuff.”
“Sex?”
“Precisely. Any book dealing with the role of women is bound to discuss a lot of sex, don't you think? Initiation rituals, marriage and divorce customs, all kinds of hot material. Then there's the personal side of things. My aunt was quite a character. There were rumors that she was a lesbian. There was also some gossip about her getting involved in some of the rituals of Revelation Island.”
“You're not concerned with protecting your aunt's good name?”
“She didn't have a good name. She had a controversial name and she loved it. Believe me, it wouldn't bother her ghost in the least if I were to turn her life story into a sleazy best-seller. She'd get a kick out of it.”
Gideon slanted Hannah a speculative glance. “Writing a book sounds like hard work, a long-term project.”
“Sure.”
“Take it from me, you're probably going to need a little more motivation than the memory of one embarrassing scene at a party.”
“You're speaking from experience?”
“The trick to getting revenge, Hannah, is to make sure that nothing else matters as much as the revenge itself.” Gideon's voice was flat, totally devoid of emotion. “That means the source of motivation has got to be pretty strong.”
“As yours was?”
“Yeah. Got any aspirin?”
Hannah reached under the seat for her leather shoulder bag. “I was just going to take some myself.”
They got more coffee from the flight attendant and used it to down the aspirins in a surprisingly companionable silence. When the small ritual was finished, Hannah leaned back in her seat and tapped one finger thoughtfully on the armrest.
“I have got a bit more motivation than one night's embarrassment, you know.”
Gideon watched her profile. “Something to do with this Dr. Armitage reminding you of what you aren't?”
Hannah nodded. “It struck me this morning while I was brushing my teeth that it would be very pleasant to throw it all back in her face. Usually I don't let people, especially academic types, get to me like this.”
“I don't think this is a good time to start.”
“There's something different about Vicky.”
“Forget her, Hannah.”
Hannah raised her eyebrows. “You're handing out advice now?”
“Why not? I don't feel up to much else this morning. At least you've got a choice. If you don't act, nothing significant will change for you. Life will go on as it was before Vicky Armitage arrived on the scene. You said, yourself, that she was only a visiting professor. That means she'll be leaving Seattle in a few months, right?”
“Well, yes, but⦔
“You're lucky. You can avoid her until then.”
Abruptly Hannah realized where this was going. “Unlike your situation with Ballantine?”
Gideon's mouth twisted faintly. “This vacation to Santa Inez is only a small delaying tactic. I can't hide forever and hope he'll go away. Sooner or later I'll have to deal with him.”
“And if you don't?”
“He'll destroy Cage & Associates.”
Hannah heard the finality in the words and shivered a little. “You're sure?”
“Absolutely sure. It's what I would do in his place. What I did to his father. When I get back from Santa Inez I'll have to start fighting for my corporate life.”
“You've built an entire career on revenge. It's incredible when you think of it.”
“I try not to.”
Hannah thought for a moment, playing with the puzzle that was Gideon Cage. “There was more to it than just the fact that Ballantine left you holding the bag nine years ago, wasn't there?”
“You don't think that was sufficient reason for crushing him?”
“I don't know. It might have been. It's just that I get the feeling there was more.”
Gideon eyed her warily. “More what?”
“How close were you and Cyrus Ballantine?”
“He was my business partner.”
“And also your mentor?” Hannah guessed. “They say a mentor is important in the corporate world.”
Gideon shrugged. “I suppose you could say he was. He taught me most of what I know. The man was brilliant. I⦔ Gideon hesitated. “I respected him. Trusted him,” he finished carefully.
“He was a father figure,” Hannah announced.
“Jesus Christ, lady, do you have to analyze everything to death?”
“Sorry. Force of habit.”
“You're supposed to be on vacation,” Gideon muttered. There was a pause and then he said, “I never knew my real father. Disappeared before I was born.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“On the streets of L.A. Quite an education.”
“I can imagine,” Hannah said, mentally plugging in another piece of the puzzle. “You're lucky you didn't wind up in jail.”
“Not lucky. Smart.”
Hannah hid a smile. “Is that your ego talking or is it the truth?”
“Who knows?” Gideon's mouth relaxed slightly. “A little of both probably. I did manage to stay out of jail and it wasn't because I was leading such a clean life.”
“When did you discover your aptitude for business?”
“When I discovered you could sell a set of hubcaps back to the rightful owner without getting arrested for stealing them in the first place if you exercised due caution.”
“Tricky. I take it you progressed from there?”
“I like to think so. Now I only steal companies. And it's all quite legal.”
“When did you meet Cyrus Ballantine?”
Gideon looked at her. “Are you really interested in this?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” It was the truth and Hannah rather wished it wasn't. She didn't particularly want to be interested in Gideon Cage.
“I got involved with Cyrus in my senior year in high school. The school had a work-study program that aimed at putting us so-called disadvantaged types into the business world for a while to give us a taste of legal employment. Ballantine got some sort of tax break for volunteering his firm. I took one look at Cyrus Ballantine's Mercedes and his five-hundred-dollar suit and I knew the corporate world was the racket for me. I dug in and went to work. Did anything and everything from fetching coffee to filing correspondence. I paid a hell of a lot of attention to everything Ballantine did. Tried to dress like him, eat like him, talk to people the way he did. Somewhere along the line, Ballantine noticed.”