Hold on Tight (19 page)

“You’ve
never
trusted me.” He was so angry and hurt that he had trouble getting the words out. “Why should now be any different?” Her shoulders sagged, and he knew he’d made his point. His voice became less harsh. “Dee. I called Norins to ask questions about you. When he asked questions in return, I didn’t know it would cause trouble to answer them. I didn’t
know
. Don’t hate me for makin’ a mistake. You’re the center of my life, and I’d do anything to keep from hurtin’ you. Can’t you trust me a little, and believe that? Don’t hate me. Don’t … hate …”He stopped, unable to go on.

She sobbed quietly and took several seconds to get her voice to a point where she could speak again. “I don’t hate you. Please … just let go of me. I … you’re confusing me. It makes it harder to talk.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about. I’m not in cahoots with Norins.” His voice was a graveled whisper. “I couldn’t hurt you, Dee. It would be like hurting myself.”

“I don’t know what to believe. It doesn’t … matter. Nothing matters, anymore. He found me. He found out about me.”

Feeling empty and cold inside, Rucker moved leadenly to a dark, patterned couch and sat down. Dinah raised her head and stared out at the crystalline, wintry lights of the night skyline. “Talk,” he said curtly. “Give me something, Dee. I have to know what you’ve been hidin’ all these years.”

She struggled for a moment. Then she took a deep breath. “My father was president of a large banking firm.”

“I know. It’s one of the few things you’ve told me about him.”

“My father,”—she hesitated, nearly choking—“was, according to a great deal of evidence, a thief and a liar.”

Stunned, Rucker studied her quivering back and knew that she’d just made one of the most difficult statements of her life.

“Right before his death,” she continued slowly, “he was about to be indicted by a federal grand jury for embezzling, fraud, and money laundering … involving twenty-five million dollars. And I … was suspected of knowing all about his activities. And deliberately concealing them.”

As long seconds passed neither of them spoke. Then Rucker said in a pensive tone, “And not long before the Miss America pageant, Norins got on the trail of that story.”

She nodded, and her whole body trembled. Rucker vaulted to his feet. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She held up a reassuring hand. “Don’t … don’t come over. I’m fine.” She hugged herself tightly. “When Dad’s plane crashed, he was carrying some important pieces of evidence—transactions—on board. They had been subpoenaed by a grand jury. Of course, without them, and without his testimony, there wasn’t much … of a case for the prosecution. And all but five million dollars of the money was recovered after he died.”

“Oh. Dee.”

“You sound sympathetic,” she noted without emotion. “I assume that means that you think I was innocent.”

He strove not to grab an antique oriental vase off a nearby end table and throw it against the wall in frustration. “Of course I think you were innocent. I know you as well as I know myself.”

“I wasn’t innocent.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t innocent.” She turned to face him, her hands clasped in front of her, her face ashen, her eyes dazed. She looks like she’s waiting to be executed, Rucker thought. “I knew my father was involved in something illegal. I tried to talk to him about it, but he kept assuring me that nothing was as it seemed. And I believed him. He had always been the most honorable, the most idealistic …” She cleared her throat roughly. “When investigators began to come to me on the side, asking questions, I … lied like a good daughter. So, I did conceal evidence.”

“Honey, there’s nothing wrong with tryin’ to protect somebody you love.”

“He … died in the Cessna crash … and afterward the investigators traced part of the embezzled money to an old savings account he and Mom started for me when I was a baby.” She waved one hand weakly. “He’d put stolen money in my name. I couldn’t believe … that my adoring father would voluntarily do something that might jeopardize me. But he did. Ironic, isn’t it.” She swayed, and Rucker moved toward her anxiously. “Ironic, that I thought he was so wonderful … and it was all … a lie.”

Her legs wilted under her, her head tilted back, and she sank bonelessly toward the floor. Rucker caught her just before she hit. “Dinah!” he said urgently as he picked her up and carried her down a hallway to the suite’s richly decorated bedroom. He placed her on a canopied, four-poster bed and ran to the bathroom. By the time he returned with a damp washcloth, she was trying to sit up.

“No way. Back down,” he ordered in a worried voice. He gently pushed her flat again and arranged a big pillow under her head, then sat down beside her and wiped her face with the cool cloth. “You’ve made yourself sick, dammit. Lay still.”

She looked up at him with exhausted, apathetic eyes. “Norins learned—”

“I don’t care. You need to rest.” He was almost begging her.

“No! Norins learned, when he was covering the Miss America contestants, enough to know something suspicious was going on with me. He told me that if I won the title … that he wouldn’t stop until he got the story, because if I were Miss America a scandal would be big news.” She exhaled roughly and new tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Frowning, Rucker wiped them away with his fingertips. “Miss America, an accomplice in one of the biggest embezzlement schemes in the history of banking. A great story, and a Norins exclusive. I still have nightmares about the public persecution he’d have put me through if I’d won the title.”

“But all you did was protect your father.”

“I lied to federal investigators. I just knew that if Dad said he was innocent, then he was innocent.” She closed her eyes. “A few weeks after I dropped out of the pageant, a formal charge was made against me. Concealing illegal activities. Maximum sentence, three years, or a five-hundred-dollar fine. The trial was all very hushed up. The bank didn’t want publicity. It would have looked bad, since they had no idea where to find the last five million dollars.”

Rucker gazed at her in astonishment for a moment, the world
trial
making a sick buzz in his ears. He pictured her going through all the torment of it alone, her pride and her innate dignity being challenged at every point. He tried to speak with a casual tone that belied his heartache. “So you paid the fine.”

She opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him. Rucker’s stomach twisted as he saw the shame and pain clouding their delicate blue. “Nothin’ bad about a fine,” he murmured desperately. “That’s all it was, then. A fine?” Please God, he prayed silently. For her sake, that’s all it was.

Her wretched voice tore at him. “I was sentenced to three years in prison.” Horror crawled up his spine and he was dimly aware that tears came to his eyes.
No, Dee, oh, no. I love you too much to bear what you’re going to say next
. “I served one year.”

Dinah watched grief pour into his expression. He winced sharply, turned his head, and shut his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched rhythmically. “Rucker?” she whispered hoarsely. He drew deep breaths.

“Give me a second.”

“I’ve always been terrified that when I told you … about prison … that you’d be ashamed of me. Are you?”

“Ashamed?” His voice was barely audible. “No!” Something broke inside him. He clasped her shoulders hard and shook his head. Slowly, tears slid down his face. He made a gruff sound of anguish, bent over her, and rested his head against her shoulder.

He’s crying for me, Dinah thought in shock. She turned her face so that her lips were against his ear, and her tears mingled with his. Rucker was the kind of man who never cried, who considered crying a mortal embarrassment. And yet here he was, crying without reserve, on her behalf. Her previous anger and accusations died in a wave of devotion. Dinah stroked the back of his head with quick, almost frantic, hands.

“I love you so much,” she murmured brokenly. “Sssh.”

“Damn it, it wasn’t fair.”

“Stop, stop,” she begged. “It was bearable. Dad had important friends who made sure of … that. I went to California, stayed at a minimum security prison … a country club sort of place.” She tried to make a joke, to ease Rucker’s anguish. “I met so many interesting politicians and business executives …”

But his body shook harder, though he made no sound. His fingers dug harshly into her coat. “Sweetheart,” she murmured. “Sweetheart, don’t.” Finally, he uttered a long stream of obscenities that ended with a fierce “Damn the whole freakin’ world for doin’ that to you.”

“Sssh, sssh.” Aching because she loved him so much and didn’t want him to hurt for her this way, Dinah put her arms around his back and held him. After a minute he got himself under control and his grip on her shoulders relaxed a little. He raised his head and looked at her sadly. “Tell me the rest,” he said.

Dinah cleared her throat. “Norins forgot about me after I dropped out of the pageant. He was distracted. The television people had just offered him the spot on
USA Personal
. But I’ve always been afraid that he’d wonder what became of me … that some day he’d begin to nose around …”

“And I led him straight to you. How much does he know?”

“Everything. I suspect that he found someone who served on the bank’s board of directors when my father was president. Dad made enemies on the board because he had a way of pinpointing incompetence.” Her voice grew sarcastic. “He was an exemplary leader, except for being an embezzler.”

Rucker squeezed her arm in sympathy. “Norins,” he reminded her gently. “What did he ask you about today?”

Distress replaced the sarcasm in her tone. “He asked me whether I felt that being a convicted criminal jeopardized my credibility as a mayor and school teacher. Why hadn’t I told the school board and the voters about myself. Things like that.”

“Say good-bye to Miss American Pie. That’s his angle, then, the jackass.”

“He’s going to paint me as someone who deceived a little Bible-Belt town into believing that I’m respectable.” She gripped Rucker’s shoulders. “He wants people to believe that I’ve got the missing five million dollars hidden somewhere! Hell make everyone in Mount Pleasant look like gullible fools for trusting me!”

“Sssh. Everything will be all right.” His confidence amazed her and grated on her overwrought nerves.

“How can you say that?” She tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder and held her down. “Don’t say that to me!”

“You’re free now, Dee. Your past doesn’t have a hold on you anymore. That’s good.” He kissed her and got up, then stood beside the bed, looking down at her with a solemn gaze. He seemed desperate to pretend that everything was wonderful again, as if she hadn’t just told him that she’d spent a year in prison. “No more talk tonight, ladybug. Come on. I’ll help you get undressed. Then I’m going to order room service for you. I bet you haven’t eaten since—”

“Rucker! Don’t stand there trying to make me forget what’s happened! It won’t work! Just stop glossing everything over. I know you feel guilty, but don’t pretend that my life is going to be better because of what you did!”

Slowly, the color rose in his cheeks, and his jaw tightened. “I told you that I was sorry for tipping Norins off. Are you gonna keep blamin’ me?”

They shared a tense look laden with communication. She didn’t want to speak the words, and she didn’t have to. He read the answer in her regretful but unyielding eyes.

“I love you,” she told him, “and I know that you didn’t mean any harm by telling Norins about me … but, yes …”

“But, yes, you did screw up my life, Rucker,” he supplied angrily. “I think I did you a favor by gettin’ this mess out in the open.”

“A favor!”

“You won’t be haunted anymore. You’ll go on with your job and your political career—”

“I have no political career.”

“Oh, yes, you do, little lady.” The way he used
little lady
told Dinah that he expected her to do as he said. “You’re gonna run for state senate, just the way you’ve always intended.”

“No one is going to vote for an ex-con.”

“Oh, hell, we’re into self-pity now, are we?”

Dinah sat up rigidly, feeling embarrassed, mad, and defensive. “No, not self-pity. Dignity. Pride. The desire to lead a life free from whispers and innuendo.”

“You’ve got to have more faith in people.”

“Pardon me, but I lost a large measure of my faith in people six years ago, starting with my father.”

“Maybe your old man was innocent.”

Dinah got off the bed and faced him with a tired but imperious stance. “I wish I had your appealingly simplistic view of life.”

“My dumb,
countrified
view of life,” he retorted. “Isn’t that what you mean, snob?”

Her face flamed with anxiety and anger, but she made her voice sound businesslike. “I have to get back to the airport. Tomorrow’s going to be a long, unpleasant day. I’ll call you.”

She started to go around him, but he blocked her way. Rucker looked down at her with a stern expression. “You’re half-sick and upset. Just forget about prissing out of here tonight.”

Prissing?
The derogatory description made another dent in her badly battered control. “Get out of my way,” she demanded.

“No. If you want to dislike me and blame me for what’s wrong in your life tonight, fine. But you’re gonna
get undressed, get in bed, have some dinner, and go to sleep. I’ll go back to Mount Pleasant with you in the morning.”

“I want to go now. It’s my problem. I’ll handle it alone.” She took another step. Again he blocked it. Dinah stared up at him in fury and consternation, at a loss for ways to deal with his macho, authoritative attitude.

“It’s our problem,” he told her. “Don’t let pride make a fool of you. You’re not goin’ anywhere tonight. That’s final.”

Dinah could feel rebellious urges gathering inside her. “I don’t like your Clint Eastwood persona,” she answered stiffly. “I’m not like the other women you’ve known. I won’t put up with the old male-dominance routine.”

She waited for him to move. He didn’t. When he spoke, every word was slow and emphasized. “Either you quit arguing and stay voluntarily,” he said, “or I tie you up. I swear I’ll do it, for your own good.”