Long After Midnight (35 page)

Read Long After Midnight Online

Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Long After Midnight
7.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Luck.” She shook her head wonderingly. “My God, how lucky. I played a hunch and hit the jackpot. Or RU2 hit the jackpot. Maybe sometimes the good guys do win. It kind of makes you believe in guardian angels.”

“And who’s our guardian angel? Noah?”

“Maybe.” She suddenly frowned. “It’s still a gamble. Ogden has so much influence over Longworth. He might convince him that he can still get him RU2.”

“I really wouldn’t worry about Ogden.”

Seth smiled.

         

Quivering rat.

Ogden crashed down the telephone. Did he have to handle everything himself? That bastard Longworth caving in at the first sign of trouble. Didn’t he have enough to worry about with the police on his ass twenty-four hours a day? He couldn’t even go back to Seattle.

Longworth would have to be shoved back in line. It shouldn’t be a problem. Sometimes things had to be handled in person. Longworth had been too cowardly to tell him in person that he wanted out. He’d always been able to bully Longworth into doing whatever he wanted. It just took sheer force of presence.

He picked up the telephone. “Have my car brought around.”

He grabbed his black overcoat from the hall closet. It always made him look imposing. Not that he needed to look imposing. He was imposing. He’d be able to manipulate Longworth with no—

His black limousine was pulling up in front of the door.

He didn’t wait for the chauffeur to get out. He opened the door himself. “Senator Longworth’s, George.”

The limousine slid silently away from the house.

Someone was in the front seat beside the chauffeur, he realized with annoyance. He’d told George he wasn’t to give any of the servants lifts into town.

“You can just let your friend out here, George. And tomorrow you can pick up your—”

“It’s not George,” the man in the passenger seat said. “His name is Dennis.” He turned around in the seat.

“Hello, Ogden,” Marco Giandello said.

EIGHTEEN

A
lmost packed?” Phyliss asked.

“Almost.” Kate carried another armful of clothes from the bureau to the suitcase on the bed. “How about you and Joshua?”

“Joshua’s packed.” She paused. “I haven’t started.”

“You’d better hurry. Seth’s giving last-minute instructions to Tony, but he should be back soon.”

“What instructions?”

“You don’t think I’ve given up trying to push through the testing on RU2? It’s not going to be a piece of cake even now that Longworth has come out in support.”

“It would go faster if you were here to push it yourself.” Phyliss smiled. “You’re A1 at pushing.”

“I need to be in Amsterdam. I can probably start testing there within three months. There’s not much time left for some people.”

“Like your father.”

She nodded. “But not only Daddy. I’m not that selfish.” She closed the suitcase. “Scat. You need to start packing.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Kate turned to face her. “What?”

“I’m staying here.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to ram RU2 through the roadblocks those idiots are putting up. I’m good at pushing too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t know until I started thinking about it. In a way, Michael died for RU2 too. Maybe I’ll be able to make some sense out of it if I make sure that RU2 is all it can be.”

“But Joshua will—”

“Joshua will miss me. You’ll miss me too. Even that scamp Seth will miss me. You’ll all have to suffer. I have things to do with my life.”

Kate gazed at her in dismay. “I never meant to keep you from doing what you wanted to do.”

“You didn’t keep me from doing anything. It’s easy to fall into a rut with people you care about. It’s time I got out of the rut.” She smiled. “So I’m going to get me some executive duds and give Tony so much work to do that he’ll be begging you to come back.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“You have Joshua. And I think you can have Seth.” She paused. “If you want him. Do you want him?”

“It’s a complicated situation.”

“Do you want him?”

Seth gently cradling her father in his arms. Seth teasing Joshua. Seth quietly holding her and talking. Seth in bed. Face it. Stop hiding. Be honest with yourself as well as Phyliss. “Oh yes, I want him. No doubt about it.”

“He won’t be easy but he’ll be worth it. You never like easy anyway.”

“What are you talking about? I was perfectly content with my life before all this happened.”

“You mean you forced yourself into a mold because you were tied to Dandridge by your father. People with very strong wills can talk themselves into anything. I told you once that nothing was ever going to be the same for us. That doesn’t mean it can’t be good.” She gave Kate a hug. “Now stop looking so woebegone. This is the right thing for me to do.”

Kate nodded, her arms tightening around her. “I know. I just—” She wasn’t behaving well at all. She took a step back and said brusquely, “When Seth comes back, we’ll have to brief you, and we’d better set up a conference call every week to discuss any problems.”

“Two calls the first month. After that I should be rolling.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll go break the news to Joshua.”

         

Kate was sitting on the bed, staring at the suitcase, when Seth came in a short time later.

He stopped. “What the hell’s wrong now? Has Longworth gone back—”

“Phyliss isn’t going with us. She’s decided that she has to move on. You should sympathize with that. Isn’t that what you always do?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If Phyliss has her way, RU2 will get approval here before Amsterdam.”

“If anyone could do it, she could. You have a problem with it?”

“Only because I’ll miss her. We’re a family.”

“It’s not as if you won’t see her again.”

“Not for a long time.” She raised her gaze from the suitcase to look at him. Gypsy. Peter Pan. Machiavelli. Nurturer. He was all of those things and Phyliss was right, he would never be easy. What the hell? Most good things weren’t. She stood up and squared her shoulders. Go for it. “So I’ve decided you’ve got to take up the slack.”

He gazed at her warily. “What?”

“You heard me. My family is slipping away. Phyliss is gone. Someday Joshua will leave. Daddy . . .” She drew a deep breath. “So you’ve got to be my family. I figure if you don’t do anything stupid, you should be around for at least another fifty years.”

“Fascinating. I feel like a replacement part in a dishwasher.”

“Shut up. Do you think this is easy? What if you get tired of me? What if you get bored? What if you decide to run away from us?” She went into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “Well, I won’t let you go. I’ll follow you. It’s time you had a family too. You’ll get used to us.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“And you can stop being so damn enigmatic. I know you love me and I think you know I love you.”

“Oh yes, but I wasn’t sure you’d admit it. I thought I had my work cut out for me. I figured I wouldn’t get you to this point for another six months.” His arms tightened around her. “Do you think I don’t know I’m not what you want in a man? It doesn’t matter. Get used to the idea. You’re stuck with me. I’m here for the long haul. But I won’t change. You’ll have to accept me as I am.”

“I have accepted you. You’re what I want.”

“And when did you make this momentous discovery?”

“When I saw you holding my father in your arms,” she said simply.

He pushed her away from him and cradled her face in his hands. His voice was tense. “What if you change your mind? I told you how I react when I’m pushed away. I wouldn’t be fair or accommodating. I’d manipulate and scheme and use every dirty trick I know to stay.”

“Dammit, I’m not going to change my mind. I admire you. I respect you. I love you. And you’re not getting away from me. So will you marry me?”

“Is that in the deal?”

“That’s in the deal. I want an official stamp on my family.”

He smiled slowly. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Happiness surged through her. It was going to happen. “I’ll give you until we reach Amsterdam. After that I’ll find myself a Dutchman.”

“Oh, it won’t take that long. Okay, I’ll marry you.” He kissed her. “On one condition.” His eyes were gleaming and his expression alight with mischief.

“I can hardly wait to hear it,” she said warily.

“My dog. You’ll have to adopt my dog too. Poor mutt. I hate to put him through that hassle again. Do you happen to know what the quarantine restrictions are in Holland?”

About the Author

IRIS JOHANSEN
has more than twenty million copies of her books in print and is the bestselling author of
Fatal Tide, No One to Trust, Dead Aim, Final Target, Body of Lies, The Search, The Killing Game, The Face of Deception, And Then You Die, Long After Midnight,
and
The Ugly Duckling
. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia.

Bantam Books by Iris Johansen

Fatal Tide

Dead Aim

No One to Trust

Body of Lies

Final Target

The Search

The Killing Game

The Face of Deception

And Then You Die

Long After Midnight

The Ugly Duckling

Lion’s Bride

Dark Rider

Midnight Warrior

The Beloved Scoundrel

The Magnificent Rogue

The Tiger Prince

Last Bridge Home

The Golden Barbarian

Reap the Wind

Storm Winds

The Wind Dancer

Praise for the bestselling novels of

Iris Johansen

DEAD AIM

“Smoothly written, tightly plotted, turbocharged thriller . . . Megaselling Johansen doesn’t miss.”
—Kirkus Reviews

“Readers will stay up all night reading this cat-and-mouse chase.”
—Booklist

“The nonstop action and slick plotting won’t disappoint.”
—Publishers Weekly

NO ONE TO TRUST

“With its taut plot and complex characters, [
No One to Trust
] is a vintage, fan-pleasing Johansen.”
—Booklist

“Fast-moving plot . . . another zippy read from megaselling Johansen.”
—Kirkus Reviews

“Gritty, powerful and fast-paced,
No One to Trust
starts off with a bang and never lets up. . . . This is one thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat.”
—Romantic Times

BODY OF LIES

“Filled with explosions, trained killers, intrigues within intrigues . . . It all adds up to one exciting thriller.”
—Booklist

“A romantic thriller whose humanity keeps the reader rooting for its heroine every step of the way.”
—Publishers Weekly

“[Johansen] doesn’t let her readers down.”
—The Star-Ledger,
Newark, New Jersey

FINAL TARGET

“A winning page-turner that will please old and new fans alike.”
—Booklist

“A compelling tale.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

“Thrilling . . . will have fans of the author ecstatic and bring Ms. Johansen new readers.”
—BookBrowser

THE SEARCH

“Thoroughly gripping and with a number of shocking plot twists . . . [Johansen] has packed all the right elements into this latest work: intriguing characters; a creepy, crazy villain; a variety of exotic locations.”
—New York Post

“Johansen’s thrillers ooze enough testosterone to suggest she also descends from the house of Robert Ludlum. Johansen pushes the gender boundary in popular fiction, offering up that rarity: a woman’s novel for men.”
—Publishers Weekly

“Fans of Iris Johansen will pounce on
The Search.
And they’ll be rewarded.”
—USA Today

THE KILLING GAME

“Johansen is at the top of her game. . . . An enthralling cat-and-mouse game . . . perfect pacing . . . The suspense holds until the very end.”
—Publishers Weekly

“Most satisfying.”
—Daily News,
New York

“An intense whodunit that will have you gasping for breath.”
—The Tennessean

THE FACE OF DECEPTION

“One of her best . . . a fast-paced, nonstop, clever plot in which Johansen mixes political intrigue, murder, and suspense.”
—USA Today

“The book’s twists and turns manage to hold the reader hostage until the denouement, a sure crowd pleaser.”
—Publishers Weekly

“Johansen keeps her story moving at breakneck speed.”
—The Daily Sun,
Chicago

AND THEN YOU DIE

“Iris Johansen keeps the reader intrigued with complex characters and plenty of plot twists. The story moves so fast, you’ll be reading the epilogue before you notice.”
—People

“From the first page, the reader is pulled into a realm of danger, intrigue, and suspense with a touch of romance and enough twists and turns to gladden the hearts of all of her readers.”
—Library Journal

LONG AFTER MIDNIGHT

“Flesh-and-blood characters, crackling dialogue and lean, suspenseful plotting.”
—Publishers Weekly

“A lively, engrossing ride by a strong new voice in the romantic suspense genre.”
—Kirkus Reviews

THE UGLY DUCKLING

“Outstanding. A real page-turner. Many will add [Iris Johansen’s] name to their list of favorite authors.”

Associated Press

Turn the page for a sneak preview of

FATAL TIDE

The next electrifying novel of suspense from

Iris Johansen

Coming from Bantam Books
in September 2003

FATAL TIDE

On sale September 2003

ONE

NORTHERN IRAQ
January 6, 1991

Cool water, smooth as glass as Kelby swam through it. Jesus, he was thirsty. He knew all he had to do was open his lips and the water would flow down his throat, but he wanted to see beyond the arched doorway first. It was huge and ornately carved, beckoning him forward. . . .

Then he was through the arch and the city was spread before him.

Giant white columns built to stand forever. Streets laid out in perfect order. Glory and symmetry everywhere . . .

“Kelby.”

He was being shaken. Nicholas. He came instantly alert. “Time?” he whispered.

Nicholas nodded. “They should be coming back for you again in five minutes. I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page. I’ve decided we scratch the plan and I take them out by myself.”

“Screw you.”

“You’ll blow it for both of us. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in three days, and you looked like a truck ran over you when they brought you back to the cell.”

“Shut up. It hurts my throat to argue.” He leaned back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. “We go as we planned. I give the word. Just tell me when they start down the hall. I’ll be ready.”

Go back to the sea. There’s strength there. No thirst that couldn’t be satisfied. He could move without pain through the buoyant water.

White columns shimmering . . .

“They’re coming,” Nicholas murmured.

Kelby opened his eyes only a slit as the door was unlocked. The same two guards. Hassan had an Uzi cradled in his arm. Kelby was so hazy he couldn’t remember the other guard’s name. But he could remember the toe of his boot as he kicked in his rib. Yes, he could remember that.

Ali, that was the bastard’s name.

“Get up, Kelby.” Hassan was standing over him. “Is the American dog ready for his beating?”

Kelby groaned.

“Get him, Ali. He’s too weak to stand up and face us again.”

Ali was smiling as he came to stand beside Hassan. “He’ll break this time. We’ll be able to drag him into Baghdad and show the whole world what cowards the Americans are.”

He reached down to grab Kelby’s shirt.

“Now.”
Kelby’s foot lashed upward and connected with Ali’s nuts. Then he rolled sideways, knocking the Arab’s legs from beneath him.

He heard Hassan mutter a curse as Kelby leapt to his feet. He got in back of Ali before he could get off his knees, and his arm snaked around Ali’s neck.

He broke it with one twist.

He whirled to see Nicholas smashing the Uzi into Hassan’s head. Blood spurted. Nicholas hit him again.

“Out.” Kelby grabbed Ali’s pistol and knife and ran to the door. “Don’t waste time on him.”

“He wasted a lot of time on you. I wanted to make sure he’d gone to Allah.” But he was running after Kelby down the hall.

In the front office another guard jumped to his feet and reached for his gun. Kelby cut his throat before he could lift it.

Then they were outside the hut and running toward the hills.

Shots behind them.

Keep running.

Nicholas looked over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Go on, dammit.”

Sharp pain in his side.

Don’t stop.

The adrenaline was draining away and weakness was dragging at every limb.

Go away from it. Concentrate. You’re swimming toward the archway. No pain there.

He was running faster, stronger. The hills were just ahead. He could make it.

He was through the archway. White columns gleamed in the distance.

Marinth . . .

Lontana’s Island
LESSER ANTILLES
Present Day

Lacy golden fretwork.

Velvet drapery.

Drums.

Someone coming toward her.

It was going to happen again.

Helpless. Helpless. Helpless.

The scream that tore from Melis’s throat jarred her awake.

She jerked upright in bed. She was shaking, her T-shirt soaked with sweat.

Kafas.

Or Marinth?

Sometimes she wasn’t sure. . . . It didn’t matter.

Only a dream.

She wasn’t helpless. She’d never be helpless again. She was strong now.

Except when she had the dreams. They robbed her of power and she was forced to remember. But she had the dreams less often now. It had been over a month since the last one. Still, she might feel better if she had someone to talk to. Maybe she should call Carolyn and—

No, deal with it. She knew what to do after the dreams to rid herself of these trembling fits and get back to blessed normalcy. She tore off her nightshirt as she left the bedroom and headed toward the lanai.

A moment later she was diving off the lanai into the sea.

It was the middle of the night, but the water was only cool, not cold, and felt like liquid silk on her body. Clean and caressing and soothing . . .

No threat. No submission. Nothing but the night and the sea. God, it was good to be alone.

But she wasn’t alone.

Something sleek and cool brushed against her leg.

“Susie?” It had to be Susie. The female dolphin was much more physically affectionate than Pete. The male touched her only rarely, and it was something special when he did.

But Pete was beside her in the water. She saw him out of the corner of her eye as she stroked toward the nets that barricaded the inlet. “Hi, Pete. How are you doing?”

He gave a subdued series of clicks and then dove beneath the surface. A moment later Susie and Pete came to the surface together and swam ahead of her toward the nets. It was strange how they always knew when she was upset. Ordinarily their behavior was playful, almost giddily exuberant. It was only when they sensed she was disturbed that they became this docile. She was supposed to be the one teaching the dolphins, but she was learning from them every day she spent in their company. They enriched her life and she was grateful that—

Something was wrong.

Susie and Pete were both squeaking and clicking frantically as they approached the net. A shark on the other side?

She tensed.

The net was down.

What the hell . . . No one could unfasten the net unless they knew where it was connected. “I’ll take care of it. Go back home, guys.”

The dolphins ignored her, swimming around her protectively while she examined the net. No cuts, no tears in the strong wire. It took her only a few minutes to fasten the net again. She set off back to the cottage, her strokes strong, purposeful—and wary.

It didn’t have to be a problem. It could be Phil back from his latest journey. Her foster father had been gone for nearly seven months this time, with only an occasional phone call or postcard to tell her if he was alive or dead.

But it could be trouble. Phil had been forced to go on the run almost two years ago and the threat was only partially eliminated. There could still be people out there who wanted to get their hands on him. Phil wasn’t the most discreet person in the world, and his judgment wasn’t as keen as his intellect. He was a dreamer who took more chances than—

“Melis!”

She became still, paddling in place, her gaze on the lanai a short distance away. She could see a man’s silhouette outlined against the lights of the living room. It wasn’t Phil’s small, wiry frame. This man was big, muscular, and vaguely familiar.

“Melis, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s me, Cal.”

She relaxed. Cal Dugan, Phil’s first mate. No threat here. She had known and liked Cal since she was sixteen. He must have moored his boat at the pier on the other side of the house, where she couldn’t see it. She swam toward the lanai. “Why didn’t you call me? And why the devil didn’t you put the net back up? If a shark had gotten to Pete or Susie, I’d have strangled you.”

“I was going to go back and do it,” he said defensively. “Nah, I was going to persuade you to do it. I’d have to know Braille to be able to hook it up in the dark.”

“That’s not good enough. It only takes a minute to pose a threat to the dolphins. You’re just lucky it didn’t happen.”

“How do you know a shark didn’t get in?”

“Pete would have told me.”

“Oh, yeah. Pete.” He dropped a bath towel on the lanai and turned his back. “Tell me when I can turn around. I guess you haven’t taken to wearing a swimsuit?”

“Why should I? There’s no one to see me but Pete and Susie.” She hoisted herself onto the tiles and wrapped the large towel around her. “And uninvited guests.”

“Don’t be rude. Phil invited me.”

“Turn around. When’s he coming? Tomorrow?”

He turned around. “Not likely.”

“He’s not in Tobago?”

“He was setting sail for Athens when he sent me here.”

“What?”

“He told me to hop on a plane out of Genoa and come and give you this.” He handed her a large manila envelope. “And to wait here for him.”

“Wait for him? He’ll need you there. He can’t do without you, Cal.”

“That’s what I told him.” He shrugged. “He told me to come to you.”

She glanced down at the envelope. “I can’t see out here. Let’s go inside where there’s light.” She tightened the towel around her. “Make yourself some coffee while I take a look at this.”

He flinched. “Will you tell those dolphins I’m not going to hurt you and to stop screeching?”

She’d barely been aware they were still beside the lanai. “Go away, guys. It’s okay.”

Pete and Susie disappeared beneath the water.

“I’ll be damned,” Cal said. “They do understand you.”

“Yes.” Her tone was abstracted as she went into the cottage. “Genoa? What’s Phil been up to?”

“Search me. A few months ago he dropped me and the rest of the crew off in Las Palmas and told us we were on vacation for three months. He hired some temporary help to sail the
Last Home
and took off.”

“Where?”

He shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. Big secret. It wasn’t like Phil at all. It was like that time he went off with you. But this was different. He was on edge and he wouldn’t say anything when he came back and picked us up.” He grimaced. “It’s not as if we haven’t been with him for the last fifteen years. We have shared a hell of a lot together. I was there when he brought up the Spanish galleon, and Terry and Gary signed on a year later. It kind of . . . hurt.”

“You know when he becomes focused on something he can’t see anything else.” But she had seldom known him to close out his crew. They were as close to family as Phil would permit near him. Closer than he would let her come.

But that was probably her fault. She found it difficult to be openly affectionate with Phil. She had always been the protector in a relationship that had sometimes been both volatile and stormy. She was often impatient and frustrated with his almost childlike single-mindedness. But they were a team, they fulfilled each other’s needs, and she did like him.

“Melis.”

She glanced at Cal to find him gazing awkwardly at her. “Would you mind putting on some clothes? You’re one gorgeous woman, and even though I may be old enough to be your father, it doesn’t mean I don’t have the usual responses.”

Of course he did. It didn’t matter that he’d known her from the time she was a teenager. Men were men. Even the best of them were dominated by sex. It had taken her a long time to accept that truth without anger. “I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bedroom. “Make that coffee.”

She didn’t bother to shower before she put on her usual shorts and T-shirt. Then she sat down on the bed and reached for the envelope. It might be nothing, totally impersonal, but she didn’t want to open it in front of Cal.

The envelope contained two documents. She took out the first one and opened it.

She stiffened. “What the hell . . .”

Hyatt Hotel
ATHENS, GREECE

“Stop arguing. I’m coming to get you.” Melis’s hand tightened on the phone. “Where are you, Phil?”

“At a tavern on the waterfront. The Delphi Hotel,” Philip Lontana said. “But I’m not going to involve you in this, Melis. Go home.”

“I will. We’re both going to go home. And I’m already involved. Did you think I was just going to sit around doing nothing after I got that notification that you’d deeded the island and the
Last Home
over to me? That’s the closest to a last will and testament I’ve ever seen. What the hell’s happening?”

“I had to turn responsible sometime.”

Not Phil. He was as close to Peter Pan as a man in his sixties could be. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid. I just wanted to take care of you. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but you’ve always stood by me when I needed you. You’ve pulled me out of scrapes and kept those bloodsuckers from—”

“I’ll pull you out of this scrape too, if you’ll tell me what’s happening.”

Other books

Tell Me a Riddle by Tillie Olsen
Solo Star by Cindy Jefferies
The Last Bookaneer by Matthew Pearl
Para Ana (de tu muerto) by Juan del Val y Nuria Roca
In Spite of Everything by Susan Gregory Thomas
Choosing Waterbirth: Reclaiming the Sacred Power of Birth by Lakshmi Bertram, Sandra Amrita McLanahan, Michel Odent