Charade (27 page)

"One thing strikes me as curious, though," she interrupted. "Why'd you come clean so soon? You could have strung me along indefinitely. Why'd you ruin it for yourself? Did you suffer an attack of guilty conscience? Did Arnie threaten to withhold your royalty checks if you didn't behave like a good boy?" Rather than respond to her caustic question, he bracketed her jaw with his hand. "You know the saying, 'Be careful what you wish for'? Well, I wished to sleep with you. I wished it to be mind-blowing. And it was. But I got more than I bargained for. It scared me. I didn't quite know how to deal with it." He touched the corner of her mouth with the tip of his thumb. "I still don't."

Chapter thirty-five

"So that's where we are. I wanted you to know." Cat had laid it all out for Jeff Doyle and Bill Webster and now sat back awaiting their reactions. Webster's office was quiet and serene, far removed from the chaotic activity in the newsroom. She and Jeff sat side by side on a butter-colored leather sofa. The CEO sat in the matching easy chair. His relaxed posture was deceptive, however. He was obviously nettled by what Cat had told them. "This detective ..." "Hunsaker." "Shrugged it off?" "More or less," Cat replied. "Especially when the organ bank informed me that my donor family had never tried to trace me." The result of that inquiry had left her both disappointed and glad--glad that she didn't have to deal with the personal aspects of her donor, but disappointed that she was no further along in identifying anyone who could possibly be her stalker.

"Lieutenant Hunsaker's indifference was exasperating," she continued. "But when I told Alex about it, he wasn't surprised. Unless a crime is committed, what can the police do? There's no probable cause on which to base an arrest, even if we knew whom to arrest, which we don't." "There must be something that can be done," Jeff insisted. "We're doing what we can," she told them. "Alex still has connections in the Houston Police Department, former associates who'll run computer checks for him, things like that. He has resources available to him that an ordinary citizen, like me, doesn't have." She gave a small smile. "Sometimes he fails to mention that he's no longer a cop. People still talk to him. He can be intimidating." "Do you trust him?" Bill asked. She looked sharply at him. "Why wouldn't I?" He pointed to the manila folder in which she carried copies of the clippings, the obituary, and the envelopes in which they'd been mailed. "I think that's sufficient reason to be wary of any stranger who pops into your life." "Alex Pierce is hardly a stranger to anyone," Jeff remarked. "What do you know about him, Cat?" Bill persisted. "Except what's apparent, that he's physically attractive." "I resent your implication, Bill. I haven't gone ga-ga over a handsome face. I haven't been blinded by desire." "Don't get upset," he said placatingly. "I just meant--" "You just meant that women think with their hearts rather than with their heads. We're the weaker sex, not savvy enough to recognize a wolf in sheep's clothing." Vexed, she left the sofa and moved to the window. From this third-floor perspective, she watched the traffic on the expressway speed past. She gave her temper time to cool before turning back into the room. "I'm sorry, Bill. You expressed a concern for my safety, and I nearly took your head off." He waved off her apology. "You're under a lot of stress. Is it affecting you physically?" "Beyond a few sleepless nights, no." "We could suspend Cat's Kids for a few weeks, until this thing is sorted out."

"I'm sure Sherry would understand," Jeff said, seconding Bill's suggestion. "No way. There'll be no changes in the way I live. My schedule remains as is. I'm not about to let this fruitcake direct my life." "But if the stress becomes a health risk--" "I feel great. My heart is fine. Promise." She touched the center of her chest. "But let's clear up that other matter before it festers. My personal life remains exactly that, so please keep your opinion of Alex to yourself. I need his help. That's the extent of it." Self-consciously she went to the credenza where Bill's secretary had placed a coffee service. "Would anyone else care for coffee?" They declined. Cat poured herself a cup, taking her time, involuntarily recalling those last few moments at Alex's front door when he'd bluntly told her that he still wanted her. He had tried to kiss her, but she'd left before giving her hormones a chance to kick in and cloud her judgment. Bill's implications weren't too far off the mark. Perhaps that's why she'd had such a knee-jerk reaction to them. Now, as she turned to face her associates, she pushed thoughts of Alex aside and feigned amusement in her predicament. "It seems that someone is out to silence my tick-tock." "I don't think it's anything to joke about." Jeff wore a stern frown that was incongruent with his boyish face. "I agree, Jeff." Bill rubbed his palms together like a general about to impart his strategy to the troops. "I'll send out a memo that no one is to be admitted into this building without prior clearance and only after showing accepted forms of identification. Cat, from now on you'll have an escort to and from your car to the employee entrance." "Bill, that's--" "No argument. Jeff, when she goes out on location shoots, see that one of the guards goes along. You can make room in the production van." "We need someone riding shotgun?" "Good idea, Mr. Webster," Jeff said, ignoring Cat's comment. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but Bill remained resolute. She balked, however, when he suggested posting a twenty-four-hour guard at her house. "Absolutely not."

"It'll be at company expense," he told her. "You're a valuable commodity. We'll spare nothing to protect you." "I'm not an objet d'art," she declared. "I'm a person. I refuse to have a muscle-bound gorilla in a cheap suit lurking around my house. I won't live like a prisoner in my own home. If you proceed, I'll take up residence in a hotel and no one will know where I am. I mean it, Bill. I won't give this wacko any more control over my life than he's already assumed." After a few minutes of heated argument, he relented, but grudgingly. Soon after, she and Jeff left his office. "He's only trying to protect you, Cat," Jeff said as they rode the elevator down to the first floor. "I appreciate his efforts, but we've got to keep this thing in perspective and not go to extremes. Lieutenant Hunsaker is probably right. I've built this up in my mind, and now my hysteria has become contagious." "You've never been hysterical in your life," he said as he followed her out of the elevator. They turned right, toward the newsroom. "Maybe hysteria was too strong a word. I am, however, letting a few pieces of mail spook me." "Mr. Pierce didn't pooh-pooh them as crank mail." "He's a novelist. I should have known better than to discuss this with him. He's got too active an imagination. He creates madness and mayhem on a daily basis. He took my vague ideas and embellished them into a suspenseful scenario that would make a great movie of the week." "Good idea. I just might write it down and peddle it to Hollywood." She and Jeff spun around at the sound of Alex's voice. "But only if you promise to play the lead," he said to Cat amicably. "Hey, Jeff." Both were surprised to see him. Cat recovered first. "I wasn't expecting you." They'd had several telephone conversations since the morning she'd prepared breakfast for him, but they hadn't seen each other. For the past few days he'd been in Houston, and he hadn't notified her of his return. "I ran across something that I think bears looking into. This afternoon I've got a meeting with a guy who's agreed to talk to

me. It might be nothing, but I promised to let you know of any developments." She turned to Jeff. "What's our schedule like this afternoon?" "Fairly clear," he replied, his star-struck gaze remaining on Alex. "Nothing that can't be rescheduled?" she asked. Jeff shook his head. "Hold it, Cat," Alex said. "Stick to your agenda. You're not going anywhere." "Oh yes, I am. I'm going with you." "Bad idea. I'll notify you if and when I learn something." "That's not good enough. I'd go crazy waiting. I'm going." "It won't be fun and it could be dangerous." "So is sitting around waiting to be bumped off by a maniac. I'll be with you as soon as I take my medication." She started toward her office, then turned back. "If you leave without me, there'll be hell to pay." She left him waiting in the newsroom reception area. Jeff retrieved her messages from the temporary secretary who'd taken Melia's place and brought them to her office. "Sherry called." "What about?" She replaced her prescriptions in her desk drawer and locked it. "You aren't going to like it." She straightened up and looked at Jeff. He frowned as he laid the memo on her desk. "Michael has been returned to his parents' custody." "Oh, God." "Their lawyer persuaded a lackluster prosecutor to drop the charges. Once again, George Murphy escaped jail by the skin of his teeth." Cat envisioned the boy's sweet face and felt both anger and anxiety over the thought of him being emotionally and physically abused. "What's it going to take to get him out of there? Dismemberment? How could the caseworker allow this to happen?" "Sherry promised that she would personally monitor the situation. Any further evidence of abuse and he's out of there." "She can't be under their roof around the clock," Cat said dismally.

"For whatever it's worth, the caseworker said that Michael ran into his mother's arms when he saw her. Said she embraced him and cried, covered his face with kisses. They were ecstatic over being back together." "I hope he survives without too many scars. All the children are special, but there's something about Michael ..." Her voice dwindled. When she realized that several moments had elapsed, she blinked Jeff back into focus. "Anything else?" "Dr. Spicer called from L.A. and wants you to call him back as soon as possible." "I'll call him tonight." "Better do it now. The secretary said he sounded harried." "All right. Ask her to place the call. In the meantime, keep an eye on Alex. Don't let him leave without me, even if you have to tie him to a chair." While she waited for the call to Dean to be put through, she separated Michael's file from the stack of folders on her desk. She was still staring at his photograph when the secretary beeped her to say that Dean was on the line. "Hi!" she said with forced cheerfulness. "It's good to hear from you." "How are you?" "Fine." "You don't sound fine." "I've had a setback." She encapsulated Michael's history for him. "The lawyers probably struck a deal over a couple of beers, giving Michael's welfare very little, if any, consideration." She closed the file. "Enough of that. You're the voice of reason in an otherwise very weird world." "Don't jump to conclusions." "Uh-oh. More bad news? I don't think I can handle any more today. Will it keep?" "It shouldn't." "Then give it to me straight. I don't have much time. In fact, I was on my way out." "It's about Alex Pierce." Her heart bumped against her ribs. "Oh? What about him?"

"Thank God you're no longer seeing him. I just wanted to make certain that you never confided in him about those clippings." She hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "The truth is, I have. He's doing some detective work for me." "You can't be serious!" "I thought with his police experience--" "He can't be trusted, Cat." She didn't want to go around that block again. At least ninety percent of Dean's mistrust was founded on jealousy. "I needed his professional opinion, so I swallowed my pride and asked for it. He agreed to help me find my pen pal before I turn up dead from some dreadful accident." "Listen to me, Cat." He lowered his voice to a confidential pitch. "I've done some checking into Mr. Pierce's background. They omitted quite a lot from the bio on his book covers." "You did some checking? Why?" "Don't get angry." "Angry doesn't even come close. I'm incensed. I'm not a child, Dean, and you're sure as hell not my guardian." "Well, somebody should be. You slept with the guy without knowing anything about him." "I knew I wanted to sleep with him," she retorted. Following a lengthy, hostile silence, he said, "There's something else you should know, something you might want to consider the next time he tries wooing you into his bed." He paused again, this time for effect. "Alex Pierce is a cold-blooded killer."

Chapter thirty-six

Alex drove well, plaiting his sports car through lanes of traffic with speed and skill. The console was narrow, the seats low and deep, enforcing intimacy. Her keen awareness of him was like a skin rash that continually itched. The more attention she gave it, the more irritating it became. "You're uncharacteristically quiet," he said as he maneuvered around an eighteen-wheeler. "Cat's got my tongue," she said. "Cute." "Hmm." "Something wrong?" "Other than having a maniac wanting to stop my heart? No, nothing beyond that." She exhaled and pushed back several stray curls. "I'm just not up to conducting clever conversation this afternoon, that's all." "Fine with me." He draped his right wrist over the steering wheel and concentrated on his driving. Cat chastised herself for sulking. Following Dean's

shocking news, she'd emerged from her office to find Alex flirting with Melia. "That's the chick, right?" he'd asked as they made their way to the exit. "That's the one." "She seems harmless." Cat shot him a dirty look. "Oh, she was oozing charm for you. Just don't forget that she tossed my life-perpetuating drugs into a Dumpster along with the remains of her Big Mac." "I doubt she's an angel. She just didn't strike me as a killer. Do you know where she worked before?" "No." "Anything of her background?" "No." "I'll look into it." I'll bet, Cat thought. So, in addition to being subdued by fear, she was pouting jealously. In light of what Dean had told her about Alex, how could she be jealous of his flirtation with Melia? Her perspective was warped. They drove in silence for a while, then she said, "You haven't told me where we're going." "To a little town west of Austin. In the hill country. Been up around there?" She shook her head no. "Pretty country. You'll like it." "This isn't a sightseeing excursion." "It'd be better for both of us if it were." They approached Austin from the south on Interstate 35, but Alex went west on a state highway that skirted the capital city. After another half-hour of driving, they passed through the small, scenic town of Wimberly. Over the last couple of decades, the community's slow pace and scenic surroundings had attracted artisans. On weekends, flea markets drew crowds that tripled the population. When the tourists went home, they rolled up the sidewalks again and life crawled by at a snail's pace for another week. Beyond the city limits sign, Alex took a farm-to-market road that ran along a bluff overlooking the Blanco River. "What kind of trees are those growing out of the water?" Cat asked.