Night Moves (11 page)

She glanced quickly at the man who had joined Dirk Hammarfield. "Miss...?" Dirk queried hurriedly.

"Keller. Bryn Keller."

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"Miss Bryn Keller, meet my aide-de-camp, Pete Lars.""How do you do?" Bryn stretched out her hand, feeling uneasy.Aide-de-camp? The man was short, and not fat, but squat, and as solid as a rock. He was in a dark, nondescript suit. And his features, she thought quizzically, were just the same: totally nondescript. He looked more like a hit man from an old gangster movie than an aide-de-camp.

' 'Whatwere you taking pictures of, Miss Keller?'' Pete Lars asked politely.

"Lee Condor and his group," she returned. She was equally cordial, but she wished she could just get by them both.

"How nice.He's quite famous, isn't he?"

"Yes, I believe so. Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you both. Good luck with the campaign."

She managed to brush past both the clean-cut politician and his gruesome gorilla friend, and then she sped into the ladies' room.

She was shaking, and she didn't know why. Maybe she was afraid she had pushed too far, and that this time Lee Condor would fire her. Or maybe she was afraid that he was somehow beginning to overwhelm her every time he was near, and that she would be the one to break, and go running to him, begging that he hold her close for just a moment and allow her to believe that there could be a forever-after for her....

She ran a brush through her hair and decided that she was going to have to face the music. When she emerged she saw that Lee had come inside again and been pinned down by a number of autograph seekers.

She slipped past him and started for the terrace, only to findherself hemmed in at the front doors again.

Another group of autograph seekers had surrounded a man she was certain she had never seen before.

Trying to be polite, she wedged her way through the sea of people, only to find herself pressed against the man receiving all the attention, and she didn't even know who he was!

A quick glance at his sport shirt and trim figure told her that he was a golfer. He was about thirty-five, wore his brown hair short and radiated health. Friendly brown eyes fell to hers.

"Uh...great game," Bryn murmured. "Wonderful game..."

"Thanks. For a minute there I didn't think I'd take the championship!"

"Oh, but you did! Congratulations, Mr...."

He laughed pleasantly. "Mike Winfeld."

Winfeld.Winfeld.Yes, he was young, but despite her complete disinterest in sports, she had heard the name. They had said that he would make it to the top, and apparently he had.

He chuckled softly. "Your blush is gorgeous, but don't be embarrassed. You weren't here for the game, were you? You're with Lee Condor."

With Condor?No, not the way he meant it!

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"I'm a photographer. I'm doing publicity shots for him."

"You were taking pictures? Here?Today?"

"Yes, on the other side of the terrace."

"How nice.Hey, if Condor hired you, you must be damned good. Have you got a card?"

"I...uh...yes, I do."

Bryn rummaged around in her purse for her business card. She stuffed it into the golfer's hand,then grimaced as she was jostled into him. "Thanks for asking. Give me a call anytime. I'm going to slip by before your fans decide to hang me!"

"Bryn Keller," he murmured, smiling and waving as she moved through the crowd. "You'll be hearing from me!"

She waved in return.

Maybe some real good would come from this, she thought as she hurried out to join the others on the terrace.

Barbara looked up from her fan-back wicker chair beside the wrought-iron table. "Bryn, that's your glass of wine there. I went ahead and ordered you a crab cocktail and the spinach salad." Barbara lifted her hands with a shrug. "You were gone so long..."

"Sounds great, Barbara," Bryn murmured nervously, taking the empty seat beside Barbara. The only other empty seat had been the next one. No matter which she had chosen,she would still have been forced to sit beside Lee. She picked up her wineglass and began to sip. It was good. Dry, but smooth.

Perry was telling Barbara about the castle where they had filmed inScotland. His story was bright and amusing, but Bryn found her mind wandering. Glancing through the French doors to the main room of the club, she saw that Lee had now been halted by the politician. The two men spoke for a few minutes; then they were joined by the championship golfer. A meeting of the fabulously famous and rich, Bryn thought somewhat bitterly. Then she pretended to busy herself with her wineglass, because Lee was at last coming through the doors and heading for the table. She sensed his growing irritation as his chair scraped against the concrete when he pulled it out to take his seat.

She felt his eyes openly on her and was compelled to turn in his direction as he took a sip of wine, watching her over the rim of the glass.

"What?" she demanded in an impatient murmur. The others were still talking, not noticing them--she hoped.

"Nothing, Miss Keller, nothing at all."

"Then would you quit looking at me like that?" she whispered.

"Like what?"

"Like..."

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"Like you're playing stupid games? Dirk Hammarfield is married, you know. And I know that even a

'perfectionist' doesn't need to take that many rolls of film to come up with a good shot."

"First of all," Bryn replied in a heated whisper, glad that he hadn't seen her with the personable golfer, as well, "if Dirk Hammarfield is married, that's just wonderful. Secondly, all I was trying to do was make sure that you would be pleased--"

"Like hell!" he interrupted impatiently.

"I_"

"You're a coward, Bryn.The worst sort. You're afraid of me, and instead of facing the real reasons, you feel compelled to attack. Don't bother. And don't feel that you have to make a fool of yourself with another man because of me. We'll keep this strictlybusiness . You don't even have to develop the damn prints. Just get me the proof sheets and the negatives and I'll handle the rest. And don't worry about your paycheck . It won't Buffer any."

"I wasn't--"

"Worried about yourpaycheck ? Oh, yes, you were. But that's all right. I understand."

"No you don't, you insufferable bastard!"

Why, oh, why, did she let him goad her? Was it because she saw the fury flashing in his eyes even as he kept his voice discreetly soft? Or because she couldn't help watching his throat, handsomely bronze, where his pulse beat so strongly?

He stood up, ignoring the food that had been placed before him, his only reply a curt nod. "I think Bryn has decided to call it quits for the day, guys. She can always take some individual close-ups at the house.

I've got some things to do. Excuse me, will you? I'll see you all at the house tonight for practice."

He started to walk away. The others called out cheerfully, "See you later!" and waved him on.

Bryn swallowed nervously,then stood to follow him. "Lee!"

He paused, turning back to her.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." It wasn't an apology; it was a statement of fact. And again he seemed impatient.

"Damn you! You don't know what it's like to...to be entirely responsible to others."

"That's where you're wrong, Bryn," he said tiredly. "I've had my share of-- Oh, never mind. That's why I really don't pressure you. I can't make you take a chance on living. That has to be entirely your decision--''

Bryn was startled when he suddenly broke off, staring pensively beyond her.

"Lee?" Shivers rippled along her spine as she watched him.

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He had gone rigidly tense...as if he were waiting, ready tospring .

Someone was watching them, Lee thought, curiously at first, and then tensely.Someone from the brush beyond the terrace. Imagination, he tried to tell himself. But it wasn't his imagination. He knew when he was being watched....

He placed his hands on Bryn's shoulders to brush past her and find out why he was being covertly stared at. But he never took a step.

Whomever it had been left with a hurried rustle of the brush.

He turned back to Bryn quickly. "Want to come home with me and have a glass of wine?"

"No...I..."

"Fine.You've got a day off tomorrow, but see if you can't get me the proofs bymidday. Just get them to Barbara; she can bring them to my house."

He turned and left her. Bryn bit her lip and walked miserably back to the table. She tried to find some enthusiasm for her crab cocktail, but she could only pick at it. Thirty minutes later she excused herself.

She would be able to pick up the boys a little early.

Lee hadn't left the club.

Slunk low in the seat of his beige Olds wagon, he waited patiently on a hunch.

He watched Bryn's van pull out of the club parking lot. His eyes narrowed, and his brow creased into a frown as a dark sedan pulled out after her.

He twisted his keys in the ignition and turned the wagon to follow the sedan.

Rush hour traffic had begun, and he was forced to swerve between lanes as he followed the two vehicles. He had fallen behind when Bryn reached the day-care center, but he arrived just in time to see her enter the flow of traffic again.

The dark sedan was still between them.

He knew the streets to Bryn's house, but traffic became worse and worse. A gas truck cut him off at the next corner, and he was swearing softly as he tried to catch up again.

When he reached Bryn's house she was apparently already inside with the boys.

And the dark sedan was burning rubber to make a hasty retreat down the street.

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For some mysterious reason the boys opted to behave like angels that night. Bryn decided that God was real and occasionally showed mercy to the weary.

She had them fed, bathed and in bed byeight o'clock, and as soon as the last little forehead had been kissed, she rushed back down the stairs and called Barbara. The answering machine came on, and Bryn started to swear softly, only to hear Barbara's chuckling after the recorded message had beeped away.

"Temper, temper, honey!What is the problem?" "I want to run this film out to be developed tonight, Barb. I hate to ask you this, but the kids are all asleep. Do you think you'd mind stopping by and watching them for just a few minutes?"

"Bryn, I wouldn't mind in the least, whether they were awake or asleep.But I've got a show tonight. No vacation till next week."

"Oh!" Bryn moaned with dismay.

"Why are you sending it out? You always develop your own. 'Half the art,' remember?''

"Yeah, but not with these.Condor just wants the proofs and negatives--ASAP. And I'm exhausted. I just don't think that I could stand to do them tonight." She didn't want to do them. She wanted them out of her way; she just wanted to wash her hands of the whole deal.

Barbara hesitated a minute.' 'Having trouble with him?'' "Lee? We just don't seem to get on well." "That's foolish, Bryn. The man admires you so much." "He told me he wants the proofs, Barb.Period."

Barbara sighed. "It's all in your attitude, Bryn. And I don't see what for. He's charming.A bit remote at times, a little stern, but always courteous. A little scary with that kind of silent strength, but I think that just adds to the sexuality--and sensuality!--of the man. And he's really such a wonderful human being."

"Barbara!" Bryn groaned. She thought that if she heard any more praise of the man when she would truly love to break a drum over his head, she would start screaming and go mad. "Please, I work with him all day. Don't make me hear about him all night."

There was silence on the wire, and then she heard Barbara sigh. "Okay, you two are adults. I'll drop it.

And listen. I can't sit for you, but how about this? Tell me where you want the film taken and I'll run it by."

"Will you? Bless you Barb! It needs to go to Kelly's Kodak. I'll call Kelly, and he'll be expecting you. T

hanks, Barbara. Thanks so much. I'm sure I can get them back tomorrow, give them to you to deliver and be done with the whole thing!"

"Hmm," Barbara replied enigmatically. "I'll be by in ten minutes. I'll beep; just run out to the car, okay?"

"You got it! Bless you!"

Bryn hung up the phone,then hurriedly called Kelly Crane, the owner of a small camera shop who had helped her out a number of times. He groaned when she said she wanted the proofs by the next day, then woefully told her that he had no hot dates that night anyway. She thanked him, carefully bagged all her film and waited for Barbara's beep. Ten minutes on the dot, Barbara drove away while Bryn was still t
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hanking her.

The night had gone so well at first that Bryn could barely believe it was alreadyeleven o'clockwhen she finished arranging clothes and lunches for the next day. She hopped quickly in and out of the shower,then decided that a glass of wine along with the news might help her sleep.

But the news wasn't conducive to sleep. The local segment dealt with all the excitement at theTimberlane Country Club.

Howhad she missed all the media people, she wondered.

The first story was on Dirk Hammarfield. He was shown with his wife -- a chubby little brunette --

smiling that famous smile. He was applauded for being a wonderful family man, a true "American Hero,"

living the all- American dream. The newscaster announced that there were rumors regarding his associations with a number of the big gambling concerns, but apparently those associations were all aboveboard. Gambling was legal inNevada.

Bryn began to gnaw on her lip as the next film turned out to be of Lee Condor busily signing autographs and laughing with real humor as he tousled a small boy's hair as he signed an album cover.