Jayne Ann Krentz (13 page)

“The greatness of this country lies in its people. I have always…”

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Hannah?” Perry's voice hissed out of the shadows behind her. His hand closed over her arm. His fingers tightened painfully. He spun her around to face him. “I just got through talking to Tom Lydd.”

“Such a nice man. And so smart.” She smiled into Perry's fuming eyes. “I like his wife, too, don't you?”

“Lydd just told me that he wouldn't even consider endowing a research fund here at the institute unless Professor Brad McCallister of Chamberlain College received a joint appointment to the faculty.”

Hannah widened her eyes. “That shouldn't be a problem. I hear that Brad McCallister has already been nominated by the selection committee. He'll make a terrific addition to your staff.”

Perry's face was suffused with an angry red color. “Damn it, you had no business interfering in the professional affairs of the institute.”

“But I didn't interfere.” Hannah smiled. “I merely told Tom that Brad was brilliant and that the selection committee should be applauded for choosing him.”

“Lydd told me that he wants McCallister to run the department created by the endowment.” Perry started to sputter. “The whole damn department.”

“An excellent idea. Brad is the very soul of integrity. With him in charge, Lydd and the institute will have the satisfaction of knowing that Lydd's money is spent the way he wants it spent.”

Perry's face worked furiously. “Pamela McCallister is your friend, isn't she? You knew that Brad was being considered for a joint appointment here.”

“I also heard that you were trying to block it because you're jealous of Brad's professional abilities. You're afraid he'll outshine you once he gets on the institute staff, aren't you?”

“That's got nothing to do with it.”

“Good. In that case you shouldn't have any problem with the selection committee's choice.”

“You planned this. You agreed to come here tonight because you knew the Lydds would be here.”

“I believe it was you yourself who mentioned that they had been invited.”

“That's beside the point.” His voice rose. He grabbed her other arm. Rage flashed in his eyes. “You think you can pull a stunt like this with me just because you're a Harte?”

“Perry, you tried to use me and the Harte name tonight. I let you do it. In exchange, I used the opportunity you dropped into my lap. I'd say we're even.”

“You little bitch! You got a kick out of playing the tease eight years ago, and you're still at it, aren't you?”

It occurred to her that Perry had not learned to curb his temper in the past eight years. It flared as quickly and intensely as it had in the old days.

“Let me go,” she said coolly. “This scene is starting to remind me of another discussion we had once.”

“If you're talking about that night you staged the big drama in my car and then jumped out when I got tired of your cock-teasing—”

Her own temper kicked in. “I'm talking about the night you decided that since you couldn't seduce me into having sex with you, you would try force instead. What were you thinking, anyway? Were you working on the theory that once I discovered what a great lover you were I'd agree to marry you?”

“Damn it—”

“Or did you convince yourself that if I had sex with you, I'd feel that I had to marry you just for the sake of my reputation?”

His eyes narrowed. “If I ever thought you cared a damn about your reputation, you sure straightened me out when you told Chief Yates and anyone else who would listen that you'd spent the night on the beach with Rafe Madison.”

Hannah's turbocharger switch suddenly tripped and her temper went into overdrive. “Let me tell you something, Perry Decatur. You are very, very lucky that I did not tell my folks or my brother how you really behaved in the front seat of the car that night. All I ever said was that we'd argued. I never told them how you tried to force yourself on me.”

His eyes bulged. “How dare you accuse me of that sort of behavior? No one has done more for women's issues here at the institute than me.”

“Forget the political agenda. We both know what you had in mind that night.”

“We were on a date.” Perry's voice was choked with outrage. “You freaked out when I tried to kiss you. That was all there was to it.”

“That's not quite how I remember it.” She stabbed her finger against his elegantly knotted white silk tie. “You thought you could coerce me into marrying you.”

“You're crazy. Hell, I knew that you were naïve and inhibited in those days, but I didn't think you were
so
naïve and
so
inhibited that you couldn't recognize a grown man's normal, healthy sex drive when you saw it.”

“I saw it, but I gotta tell you, Perry, it didn't look normal or healthy to me.”

“It was your fault that there was a small misunderstanding.”

She gave him an icy smile. “Yes, it was on the small side, but I wasn't going to mention it.”

“There's a word for women like you. You can't blame me for trying to take you up on what you were offering.”

“I didn't offer you anything, and you know it.”

“I cared for you.” His jaw jerked a couple of times as if he were on the verge of being overcome by emotion. “I wanted to marry you.”

“Sure. But only because I was a Harte.”

“That's not true.”

“It was true. I wasn't nearly as naïve in those days as everyone seems to think. Do you really believe that you were the first man who latched on to me because he saw it as a way to marry into Harte Investments?”

“I resent the implications of that statement,” Perry said furiously. “I'm an academic. I live for the world of ideas, not the world of business.”

“Give me a break, Perry. You're a hustler. You always have been a hustler. Eight years ago you saw marriage to me as a quick, easy way to get access to the deep pockets of my father's company. You also figured you'd have a lot of use for the social and business contacts that my family could provide, didn't you?”

“Your parents liked me.”

“Mostly because they thought you were bright, charming, and ambitious. Really ambitious. My family admires ambition in a person. Sometimes we admire it a little too much.”

“There's nothing wrong with ambition. It's the American way.”

“What you seem to have overlooked is that there's a line between ambition and hustling. I'll admit that it can be mighty thin at times, but it's there if you care to check for it.” She paused deliberately. “Something tells me that you haven't looked for it in years, Perry.”

“You're just as preachy and prissy as ever, aren't you?” His mouth tightened. “Do you know how incredibly self-righteous and officious you sound when you go into your lecturing mode? No wonder your engagement fell apart. What man in his right mind wants to go to bed every night with a woman who can't stop lecturing?”

She caught her breath. Then she glanced very pointedly at the hands he had clasped around her arms. “Let me go, Perry.”

He ignored her. His fingers squeezed tighter. “I've got news for you. The Miss Virtue act doesn't work here in Eclipse Bay anymore. You screwed your image eight years ago when you provided Rafe Madison with his alibi. And what do you think will happen when word gets out that the two of you are
negotiating
the details of your aunt's will over cozy little breakfasts at your folks' place?”

“You know, it won't be as easy to knee you in the crotch tonight as it was the last time, because this skirt is much tighter than the one I had on that night. But I think I can manage it, and I will if you don't let me go right now.”

He released her and jumped back as if he'd just touched an electrically charged wire. “Bitch!”

“I think this is about where I came in last time,” Rafe said from the shadows behind Perry. “But the big difference is that Hannah won't have to walk home tonight. I've got my car.”

“Madison.”
Perry jerked around to face Rafe and then took another hasty step back. “This is a private conversation.”

“I got the impression that Hannah didn't want to continue it any longer.” Rafe glided forward with a deceptively lazy movement. His eyes never left Perry's face.

“Was I mistaken?”

“This is none of your business.” Perry's voice squeaked slightly. “If you touch me, I'll file charges.”

Alarmed by the glint of predatory anticipation in Rafe's eyes, Hannah stepped quickly between the two men. “That's enough, Rafe. Everything is under control.”

“I know, but it would be sort of fun to bounce him around a little. Please?”

“Rafe, I'm serious.” It occurred to her that in her career as a wedding consultant she had honed to a fine art the ability to nip embarrassing public scenes in the bud. Now she was standing in the middle of one that she herself had created. “I do not want anyone hurt here.”

“I could take him somewhere else.” Rafe looked hopeful. “Pretty quiet down at Eclipse Arch this time of night. No one would hear him squawk.”

“You're crazy.” Perry backpedaled several more steps. “How dare you threaten me! Do you have any idea of just who is out there in that reception room? There's a future U.S. senator out there. Not to mention a lot of other very important people.”

“He's right,” Hannah said firmly. “We do not want to cause a disturbance that will only result in embarrassment for all concerned.”

“I don't mind a little embarrassment,” Rafe assured her. “I'm a Madison.”

“Stop threatening me,” Perry howled.

“I didn't threaten you.” Rafe looked at Hannah. “Did you hear me threaten him, Hannah?”

She seized his arm. “You and I are leaving. Now. The main goal of the evening has been accomplished. Perry has just assured me that he will not stand in the way of Brad's joint appointment at the institute. In fact, he will do everything he can to ensure that it goes through. Isn't that right, Perry?”

“I won't be intimidated,” Perry said forcefully. “Furthermore, I am not in charge of the selection committee. You have to remember that.”

“Sure, sure, we understand.” Rafe winked. “But just among the three of us, Brad McCallister's appointment looks like a sure thing, right?”

Perry cleared his throat and somehow managed to look down his nose even though he was at least three inches shorter than Rafe. “If Lydd goes through with his plans to endow a research fund here at the institute, and if he feels strongly about McCallister's appointment, he will, of course, be able to bring a great deal of influence to bear on the matter.”

Rafe glanced at Hannah. “Are you sure you don't want me to bounce him around a bit?”

“Positive. We don't need lawsuits.” She tugged on his arm. It was like trying to hoist the anchor of a container ship by hand.

Rafe gave Perry a look of wistful regret. “You know, you're right about one thing, Decatur. When she starts in with the lectures and the good advice, she does sort of take all the fun out of things, doesn't she?”

“That's enough, Madison.” Hannah gave up tugging, wrapped her hand around his arm, and leaned forward instead.

“Whatever you say.” Without warning, Rafe suddenly reversed course, squeezing her hand against his side.

Hannah, already off balance, with her fingers now trapped under his elbow, had to run a few steps to avoid being dragged.

“Rafe.”

“Sorry.” He slowed to a normal pace. “You okay?”

“Of course I'm okay.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes and yanked hard on her skirt. “Let's get out of here.”

“I'm with you. I don't think I'm going to become a big fan of political receptions. The speeches are boring and the food is bad.”

For some inexplicable reason she started to laugh.

With the exception of a few stray chuckles, she had herself under control by the time they got outside. Rafe glanced at her as they walked to the far side of the lot where the Porsche was parked.

“Told you he was still a jerk.” He opened the passenger door for her.

“You were right.” She slanted him a quick glance. “How long were you lurking there in that hallway outside the rest rooms?”

“Long enough to hear most of the conversation.”

She paused, half in and half out of the cockpit. Then she straightened and went up on her toes. Leaning over the top of the car window, she brushed her mouth very quickly against his cheek.

“It really was sweet of you to offer to beat Perry up for me,” she said.

He lifted his fingers absently to the place where her lips had touched his skin. In the weak glare of the parking lot lamp his eyes were shadowed, impossibly enigmatic. “That's me, a real sweet guy.”

She stepped back quickly and sank into the rich leather upholstery. “But I really didn't need rescuing.”

“'Course not. You're a Harte.”

“And Perry is just a jerk with a temper who's always looking for an angle.”

Rafe folded his arms on the top of the window frame and looked down at her. “Got news for you. It wasn't you I was trying to rescue back there.”

She stilled. “I beg your pardon?”

“I just figured I'd better break up that little one-sided skirmish before you cast any more nasty aspersions on Decatur's masculinity.”

She was not quite sure how to take that. “Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see his face against the pale light. “You, uh, care about Perry's fragile male ego?”

“Not particularly. But intimidation is a precious tool. Push a guy like Decatur too hard, and it can backfire on you. He might try to take revenge.”

“Hah. There's nothing he can do to me.”

“Not to you maybe, but he could sure make life hell at the institute for your friend's husband.”

She stared at him for a beat or two as the implications sank in. “You're right. If Brad gets the appointment, he'll have to work with Perry, won't he?”

“Maybe not directly, but he won't be able to avoid him altogether. They'll be colleagues, after all. I'm sure Brad can take care of himself, but why make things any harder than necessary for him?”

“Damn.” She drummed he fingers on the edge of the seat and gazed morosely through the front windshield. “I got a little carried away back there, didn't I?”

“Perfectly natural reaction,” he assured her. “Victory can make a person giddy.”

“Apparently.” She frowned. “So how come it was okay for you to threaten to bounce him around, but it wasn't okay for me to make rude remarks?”

He exhaled with an air of long-suffering patience. “Because I'm a man and I was making a direct threat.”

“Ah, yes, I get it.” She nodded wisely. “Macho challenge stuff.”

“A challenge that Decatur was never forced to answer or back down from because you intervened, thus saving both his bacon and his pride.”

She thought about that. “You did that on purpose, didn't you? You knew I'd put a stop to anything that looked as if it would turn into real violence.”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“How did you know that?”

He grinned. “Instinct.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.”

She pursed her lips. “You mean you just assumed that because I'm female I would automatically move to stop a couple of males from getting into a brawl?”

“It had nothing to do with the fact that you're female. Believe me, I've met women who love to watch men fight. But I figured that any successful wedding consultant would have developed finely-tuned radar when it comes to scenes. The last thing anyone wants at a wedding is a brawl, right?”

“Well, yes, that's true, of course.”

“I figured you'd be good at intervening in a confrontation,” he concluded a little too innocently.

“Hmm.”

“And you did get in a few zingers,” he reminded her. “I heard them. Decatur took some well-placed hits.”

She thought about Perry's words.
No wonder your engagement fell apart. What man in his right mind wants to go to bed every night with a woman who can't stop lecturing?
The invisible balloon of her triumph began to deflate.

She exhaled deeply. “Perry got in a few good thumps of his own.”

“That's okay. You can handle them. You're tough, aren't you?” He started to close the door. “Hey, you're a Harte.”

“Right. I'm a Harte.” She continued to gaze out into the darkness on the other side of the windshield. “And what's more, I'm—”

She broke off, startled, when an apparition materialized out of the night directly in front of the car. In the cold glare of the parking lot lamp she saw a figure garbed in black pants, black running shoes, and black gloves. The hood of a black sweatshirt was pulled down over a face smeared with daubs of dark paint.

Rafe glanced over his shoulder, nodded casually. “'Evening, A.Z. Nice night for recon work.”

“Heard you were back in town, Rafe,” Arizona Snow said. “Always figured you'd return someday to expose the bastards who tried to frame you for the Sadler girl's murder.”

“Well, now that you mention it, that wasn't exactly the reason I came back,” Rafe replied. “You see, Hannah and I have this little inheritance problem.”

“Dreamscape,” Arizona said briskly in a cigar-and whiskey-roughened voice. “I know all about that, too. Isabel was a good friend of mine. If you ask me, it makes a great cover for you.” She peered into the Porsche. “Nice to see you, Hannah. Come back to help Rafe flush out the rats?”

Hannah smiled slightly. “Good evening, Arizona.”

“My, don't you look fancy tonight.” Arizona squinted. “What the devil are you two doin' hanging around with this crowd at the institute? Part of your investigation?”

“Our being back in town has nothing to do with Kaitlin's death, A.Z.,” Rafe said gently. “It was an accident. You know that.”

“Bulldooky. Suckers here at the institute offed her for some reason. She probably knew too much about some-thin' going on up here.”

“How would she have known anything about the institute?” Hannah asked curiously.

“Kaitlin slept around a lot,” Arizona said. She shot a piercing look at Rafe. “Reckon you know that.”

Rafe cleared his throat but did not say anything. Hannah glanced at him, but he deftly managed to avoid her eyes.

“Always figured poor Kaitlin slept with the wrong guy,” Arizona continued. “Someone connected to the institute. Probably talked in his sleep. Or maybe she just saw some papers or something. They figured they had to get rid of her. The killers must have panicked when Chief Yates started investigatin', so they decided they needed a fall guy and tried to pin it on you, Rafe. Probably picked you on accounta everyone knew you'd been seeing a lot of Kaitlin that summer.”

“An interesting theory,” Rafe said neutrally.

“But thanks to Hannah here, the big plan fell apart.” Arizona clenched a fist and pumped it into the air. “Once in a while we throw a wrench into the bastards' plans. Gives me hope that someday we'll expose the whole damned pack of weasels.”

Rafe glanced at the black plastic binder in her hand. “What are you doing here tonight?”

“Keeping my logbooks up to date, of course.” Arizona tapped the binder with one black-gloved finger. “Until the rest of you wake up and smell the coffee, someone has to keep an eye on what goes on up here at the institute. Someday folks will realize that this so-called think tank is a cover for a secret government operation that operates outside the law. When that day comes, everyone's going to be real glad to have my logs.”

Hannah leaned slightly out of the car. “Did you put Rafe and me in your log tonight?”

“Honey, I took down the license plate, make, and model of every car in this lot when it arrived, and that includes friends as well as suspects. Got to keep the record accurate.”

“Something to be said for accuracy,” Hannah agreed.

“I also noted the number of people in each vehicle and, where possible, the identities.” Arizona scowled. “Got to admit, I don't always recognize everyone these days. Every year more strangers show up for meetings and parties here at the institute. In the old days I knew just about everyone who came and went. But not anymore. The web is widening daily.”

Rafe eyed the logbook. “Are you going to write down the time that we leave?”

“You bet. It's the details that make the difference, you know. When the truth finally comes out, it will be the accumulation of a lot of tiny facts in these logs that will show how the phantom project operated undetected for so long.”

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “You don't really think that Rafe and I are involved in the conspiracy, do you?”

Arizona snorted. “'Course not. You're just a couple of naïve, innocent dupes like most everyone else around here. But I gotta put you in my logs because I gotta have a complete record of all comings and goings. If I start skipping a couple of cars here and there, the government lawyers might try to claim that the logs are incomplete or inaccurate. Can't give 'em any room to squirm when the truth comes out.”

Rafe inclined his head in sober acknowledgment of that logic. “Makes sense.”

“You better believe it. I've monitored every reception, every meeting, every special event held here at the institute since the day the place opened.” She held her log aloft again. “All part of the record.”

Rafe glanced at his watch. “Well, you can log us out at precisely ten-forty-three. We're on our way home now.”

Arizona's head jerked up and down once in acknowledgment. “Got it.” She clicked a black pen and opened her notebook. “You two drive carefully.”

“We will.” Rafe started to close the passenger door.

“Say, Rafe.” Arizona glanced up sharply. “Why don't you stop by the café when you get a chance? About time we updated that menu you worked out when you used to cook for me. The college crowd seems happy enough, but after all these years I'm getting a little tired of fixing the same stuff day in and day out.”

“All right, I'll drop by soon,” Rafe said.

“Appreciate it.” Arizona aimed the pen at Hannah. “You come with him. Always did like the notion of you two gettin' together. Told Isabel so.”

Hannah braced one hand against the door to keep Rafe from closing it. “My aunt discussed her intention to leave the house to us with you?”

“Well, sure.” Arizona's beefy shoulders rose and fell beneath the black sweatshirt. “Me and Isabel went back a long way. She talked to me about her plans for Dreamscape because she knew that everyone else would think she was crazy for trying to end the feud.”

“But not you,” Hannah murmured.

“Nope, not me. I told her to go for it. Always knew the feud had been caused by the sonsabitches who opened the institute. The bastards probably wanted to break up Harte-Madison because they knew the company would try to block their plans to establish this damned think tank.” Arizona sighed. “Unfortunately, their scheme worked all too well.”

“Good night, A.Z.” Rafe closed the car door very firmly.

Hannah watched Arizona disappear back into the shadows. Rafe circled around the tail of the Porsche and got in behind the wheel.

“You think we're a couple of naïve, innocent dupes?” Hannah asked.

“Sure, but what the hell.” Rafe turned the key in the ignition and put the car in gear. “I'd rather be a happy, carefree dupe who gets to go home at ten-forty-three than an ever-vigilant guardian who has to spend nights running around in black sweats recording license plates.”

Hannah glanced at the rows of parked cars as Rafe drove out of the lot. “Still, it's hard to believe anyone could get a lot of satisfaction out of writing down license plate numbers. Just think, she's been doing it for years.”

“She's dedicated to the cause of ultimately exposing the secret government conspiracy operating here at the institute. As hobbies go, it probably beats watching television.”

Hannah contemplated that as she gazed at the scene spread out below the hillside. There was no fog tonight—at least, there wasn't any yet. The bay was a sweep of midnight velvet ringed and studded with the lights of the town and the pier.

She could make out the neon sign that marked the Total Eclipse Bar and Grill. On the opposite side of the street, the town's single gas station was closed for the night. Near the pier was a row of darkened shops that featured rustic antiques, inexpensive beach souvenirs, and seascapes. The neighboring marina was largely unlit. The boats sheltered there were invisible against the dark expanse of the water.