Gift of Gold (38 page)

“I can’t believe it was a coincidence that Kincaid was on that list.” Caitlin leaned heavily on her cane as she moved slowly toward the window. “My God, is it going to come apart now after all my planning?”

Verity watched her. “Tell me what this is all about, Caitlin. I must know what is going on here. Surely you can see I have a right to know. Tavi tried to tell me this morning that I was involved. She said that if I left and took Jonas with me, everything would change. What did she mean by that?”

“Tavi hopes to protect me from carrying out my vengeance. But nothing can stop me now, Verity. Not even the fact that Kincaid may have become suspicious. His ego will keep him from behaving cautiously. The man thinks he is all-powerful. He will be certain he can take care of himself. Even if he wonders what is going on, he will still come here tonight and I will have him.”

“Tell me about him, Caitlin,” Verity said softly.

“You saw the painting.”

“He raped you? Cut you with that rapier? Here in this house? In that bedroom you’ve assigned to me?”

“He and Sandquist. They took turns. They tied me to that bed and they played terrible men’s games until I was unconscious. They hurt me, Verity. I thought they were going to kill me.”

Verity shivered. “My God, Caitlin.”

“When I woke up, I was in a motel room a few miles from here. They must have gotten nervous when I passed out and decided to get me out of the house in case I did something awkward like die on them. Or maybe they were just through with me and wanted to get me out of sight. After all, I was no longer very pretty after they had finished with me. All I know is that I woke up alone.” Caitlin turned her proud head to look at Verity. “From the moment I awoke until now, I have dreamed of revenge. I was cheated once when Sandquist got drunk and fell to his death. I will not be cheated again. Kincaid was the worst of the two. He was the one who got Sandquist high on drugs and then orchestrated the rape. It was he who used the rapier on me. I will have my vengeance tomorrow.”

Verity stood very still. “How, Caitlin?”

Caitlin’s smile was a terrible thing to see. “I know Kincaid very well in some ways. I know he will be consumed with the desire to own
Bloodlust.
He always gets what he wants. But this time he will not only be denied the object of his desire when I sell the painting to someone else, he will be forced to endure the shock of having it unveiled in front of the other bidders. They will recognize him instantly. No matter what he says or does after that, everyone in the elite world in which he moves will know he is the rapist in Caitlin Evanger’s last painting. It will taint him for the rest of his life. Especially when everyone realizes I was the victim.”

Verity sucked in her breath, a deep wariness overshadowing her compassion. “Where do I fit in to all this? What about Jonas?”

“In the beginning I did not care one way or another if Quarrel was around,” Caitlin said with a slight shrug. “I wanted you here with me because you are my friend. I need both you and Tavi with me when I pull the cover off that painting tomorrow. But perhaps it’s just as well Quarrel will be here along with the other bidders. Kincaid is, after all, potentially dangerous. He enjoys hurting people. He has a lust for it that is sexual, I think. In him, the lust for sex is closely related to the lust for violence. It must have been hard on him controlling himself all these years while he made a success of himself in the business world.”

“You expect Jonas to act as a bodyguard?” Verity asked incredulously.

“No, of course not,” Caitlin assured her. “I just think that there is some safety in numbers.”

“You think Kincaid will go nuts when he sees that painting?”

“I don’t know what he will do. I doubt he’ll lose his self-control, but you never can tell. I have already suffered at his hands once. I do not intend to do so again.” Caitlin shuddered. “I would kill myself before I let him touch me again.”

“Tell me something, Caitlin. After you have carried out your vengeance, do you intend to kill yourself?” Verity asked calmly.

Caitlin looked away toward the sea. “I don’t think about anything beyond what will happen tomorrow. But if it’s any concern to you, you might keep in mind that I did not kill myself after what happened here in this house all those years ago. I’m not likely to kill myself after taking revenge.”

“How old were you, Caitlin?”

“I was twenty-three. A very sheltered twenty-three, thanks to strict, aging parents. I was also a very beautiful twenty-three, very naïve, and very excited about dating a worldly man like Damon Kincaid. I had no conception of the kind of monster I was falling in love with. When he invited me to spend the weekend on the coast, I was thrilled. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. I was a fool and I paid for it. But the price was far too high and now I will have some of it paid back.” Caitlin swung her cane fiercely, crashing it against the stainless steel window frame.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Caitlin? Kincaid sounds like a very dangerous man.”

“Everything is planned down to the last detail,” Caitlin said, regaining her control immediately.

“He’ll recognize you. As soon as he walks into this house, he’ll know who you are.”

“No. After the accident the surgeons were forced to make several small changes to my face in order to repair the damage that had been done. A lot of little things got altered, the shape of my eyes and nose, for instance. Those changes, combined with the aging effect of the intervening years and a change in hair color, are enough. I don’t resemble my old self very much. Even if I did, I doubt that Kincaid would recognize me. I was just another victim to him. The doctors wanted to get rid of the scar, too, but I refused. I made them leave it so that every time I looked in a mirror I thought about vengeance.”

“Caitlin, this is crazy.”

She turned around. “Now that you know the full truth, will you be leaving, Verity? Or will you stay here with me and lend me the shield of your friendship?”

Verity knew she had no option. “I’ll stay. But I must tell Jonas what’s going on. He has a right to know.”

“Do what you think is best.” Caitlin hesitated. “Thank you, Verity. I won’t forget this, I promise you.” Her eyes went to the painting and she stood looking at it as if mesmerized by her own creation.

Verity sighed. “I doubt if any of us will forget this.” Leaving Caitlin staring at
Bloodlust,
she turned around and walked out the door into the gray hall.

And nearly collided with Jonas.

He clamped a palm over her mouth before she could say anything and motioned swiftly for her to be silent. Verity frowned at him over the edge of his hand but nodded her head in understanding. He released her, caught her wrist, and led her quickly toward the staircase.

Neither of them said a word until they were in his room. Then Jonas let go of her, shoved his hands into his back pockets, and stalked grimly across the room.

“What the hell was that all about?” he snapped.

“How much did you hear?” Verity countered.

“Enough. She’s plotting some crazy revenge against Kincaid, isn’t she?”

“She’s the woman we saw on the bed, Jonas. She says Kincaid and Sandquist raped her. Sandquist is dead but she’s determined to make Kincaid pay. She’s going to do it by first denying him the painting he covets and then letting that same painting proclaim his guilt to the entire art world. Not bad, as vengeance goes. A little bizarre, but not bad.”

Jonas swung around, his golden eyes harsh and dangerous. “That goddamned bitch is using you. I knew it. I damned well knew it. I just didn’t know how until now.”

“She wants some friends around when the big moment arrives. Surely you can understand that, Jonas.”

“I’m not going to waste any time trying to understand that creepy female. I’ve got my hands full trying to understand you.”

“Is that right?” Verity was becoming annoyed. Jonas’s lack of charity toward Caitlin irked her. Couldn’t he see the poor woman needed friendship?

“Damned right.” He massaged the back of his neck. “What’s more, I just talked to Emerson and we’ve all got something else to try to understand.”

“You called Dad? I didn’t realize you were going to talk to him.”

“I wanted to see if he’d found out anything more about the man who attacked us. We do have a few other priorities in our lives besides crazy Caitlin.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Why not? She is crazy.”

“There’s nothing crazy about wanting revenge, especially for something as brutal as rape. Oh, never mind. What did Dad have to say?”

Jonas’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. “The most important thing Emerson learned is that whoever that guy was who attacked us with the cannon, he wasn’t sent by Reginald C. Yarington.”

Verity’s eyes widened. “You mean he wasn’t a…a collection agent for Yarington?”

“No. Emerson checked and Yarington flatly denies it. Your father believes him.”

“Then he really was just a thief or a vagrant looking for a place to spend the night?”

“It’s possible. But things are getting a little too messy around here, Verity. I don’t like it. I got your father to persuade the Sequence Springs cops to run a quick check on Caitlin.”

“On Caitlin!”

“Yeah. They couldn’t turn up a damn thing on her prior to the moment when she hit the art scene in a big way. It’s as if she didn’t exist before that.”

“The accident changed everything for her,” Verity murmured. “She changed her own identity and the surgeons changed the way she looked. She was very afraid of Kincaid.”

“The kind of disappearing trick she pulled with her past takes planning and money and paperwork. It isn’t just a matter of changing your name and your face. It’s as if she didn’t exist at all before she became Caitlin Evanger, eccentric artist. There’s too much violence in the air, past and present, Verity. In addition to the lack of Caitlin’s past, I don’t like the fact that Kincaid showed up in our lives last week, right after we got involved with Evanger, who, we now discover, is planning to publicly humiliate him. At moments such as this, casual coincidences and flukish circumstances become highly suspect.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Leave. Right now.”

Verity closed her eyes and sank wearily onto the bed. “You know I can’t do that, Jonas. Too much has happened. We have to see this through.”

“We?” The single, mocking word hung in the air between them.

Verity opened her eyes, shocked and stunned that he would leave her alone at this juncture. “I guess I was assuming too much, wasn’t I? Go ahead and take the car, Jonas. I’m sure I can find my own way home when this is all over.”

He groaned and reached down to yank her to her feet. His face was harsh and each word was a knife slash. “Don’t be any more of a fool than you already are. You know damned good and well I’d never leave you alone here in this house.”

She sagged against him in relief and her arms stole around his waist. “Thank you, Jonas,” she said simply. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

“You can say that again,” he vowed.

Chapter
Seventeen

Caitlin
had spared no expense recreating the scene she had chosen for the evening’s festivities. The lilting strains of a dance that had originally been written for the lute swirled through the glittering salon. The music was being played on a classical guitar by an earnest young man adorned in shoulder-length hair, yellow tunic, and a pair of dark tights that looked suspiciously like exercise tights.

The musician was good. Jonas found it disturbingly easy to hear the four-hundred-year-old exuberance of the Renaissance tune that floated through the modern guitar strings.

In fact, if he narrowed his eyes a little and concentrated on the music and Verity, who was dancing in his arms, Jonas found the night’s illusion almost too complete. The costumed people around him were as vividly attired as any Renaissance gathering would have been. It was true the modem fabrics used in the assortment of rented gowns, cloaks, tunics, doublets, and breeches were not as rich or as beautifully made as the originals would have been, but in the soft glow of artificial lamplight and the very real flare of the flames in the steel fireplace, it didn’t matter. Polyester looked like silk, machined embroidery appeared handmade, and sparkling pieces of colored glass on hems and cuffs could be mistaken for gemstones.

But the greatest illusion of all, Jonas decided, was the one he was holding in his arms. Verity could easily have stepped from a sixteenth-century Italian painting. She was wearing the peacock-blue velvet gown he had chosen for her the day they went to San Francisco.

The deep, square neckline was embroidered with gold and silver thread and it framed the silken skin of her throat and shoulders. It was just low enough to hint at the soft rise of her breasts but not so low as to invite prolonged masculine stares. The snug, high-waisted bodice emphasized her slenderness and the full-skirted gown fell with formal grace all the way to her ankles.

Her hair was pulled back from her forehead, parted in the middle in the old, classic style and folded into a cascade of curls at the nape of her neck. A single blue jewel hung in the middle of her forehead in a style that had been very popular in the sixteenth century. The gem was attached to a fine chain that disappeared into her hair. Tonight Verity’s hair looked as if it had been painted by Titian, Jonas thought.

Verity looked up at him, her eyes still reflecting the concern she had been feeling all afternoon for Caitlin. “Good thing we had advance warning that this was going to be a costume affair. I have a hunch every rental shop in the San Francisco Bay Area has been cleaned out for tonight’s party.”

Jonas took his eyes off her long enough to cast a quick glance around the room. “You may be right.”

“It looks like everyone who is anyone in the art world accepted Caitlin’s invitation.”

“Like she said, a bunch of curiosity-seekers.”

Five of the half-dozen people who would be bidding on
Bloodlust
tomorrow had arrived earlier and had been shown to their rooms but Jonas hadn’t seen Damon Kincaid yet. He was beginning to wonder if the man was going to show up after all. Jonas hoped he wouldn’t. The easiest way out of this mess was to have Caitlin’s big plan for revenge go quietly down the tubes for lack of one of the participants. Once he got Verity away from this house, Jonas was certain he could talk some sense into her; get her to see that while Caitlin might have a legitimate desire for vengeance, she also had some serious mental and emotional problems. The woman needed professional help, not Verity’s sympathy.