Night Moves (12 page)

The newscaster gushed over Lee even more than Barbara had. Bryn was tempted to throw something at her television, but thanks to some dubious sense of maturity, she knew she'd only break her TV

MickJagger , Michael Jackson and the Beach Boys all rolled into one.Traces of Willie Nelson and Paul Anka . He topped the charts along with Duran, Duran, The Police, etc. etc.

Bryn stood up, ready to change the channel; then she paused, because the story switched to Mike Winfeld, the man who had taken the PGA tournament and added two hundred fifty thousand dollars to his winnings.

Not a bad reason for chasing a little white ball all around a green field, Bryn thought dryly.

She started to sit again, but froze instead. The picture of Winfeld had her in it, smiling away, flushing and handing him her business card.

With a groan she sank back into the sofa.

If Lee Condor watched the news tonight he would really be on her case.Flirting with a married politician, then with a championship golfer. Oh, God.

"Oh, what difference does it make?" she groaned aloud. Wasn't that what she wanted? To make it clear that she did like people--men in general--not just him?

Bryn flicked off the television, checked the doors and climbed the stairs to her room. With determination she got into her bed and curled into a comfortable position. Sleep, sleep, she had to sleep, she was so tired....

But she couldn't stop thinking about him. About his eyes when they met hers...About his hands... About the size and strength of his naked shoulders and chest as he hammered away at the drums with perfect rhythm and haunting power...

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The man appeared at her front door just as she threw it open to usher the kids out to the van.

She stared at him blankly for a moment, frowned and then smiled reflexively as he greeted her with a broad grin and a friendly, "Good morning! Miss Keller, I believe."

"I, uh, yes, I'm Bryn Keller. I'm in a bit of a hurry though. If lean help you...?"

"Well, I'm hoping I can help you."

"Who is it? Who is it?" Brian demanded, trying to push his way past her. Bryn caught the top of his head with the palm of her hand and pushed him back behind her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, curiously assessing the stranger. He was medium height and of medium build. Hishair was neither dark nor light, nor were his eyes any particular color. They were kind of an opaque gray. He might have been thirty or forty or even older. He was dressed in brown slacks and a short-sleeved tan shirt.

"Well, I'd like to buy something you have."

"Buy something? I'm afraid I haven't got anything of value."

He laughed easily. "Value, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. I can see you're in a hurry, so I'll get right to the point. I know you took a bunch of pictures of Lee Condor yesterday. I'm one hell of a fan of his! I'm prepared to pay you five thousand dollars, but I want the lot of them. For a private collection, you know."

"Five thousand..." Bryn echoed, frowning with incredulity. If she believed for one moment that this idiot might be serious, she could be well tempted. But he wasn't serious. And besides, she thought uneasily, even if he was, she didn't think she would dare, no matter how tempting his offer. Lee owned those pictures, and all rights to them. It was stated in the contract. And she still thought of him as having the potential to be a dangerous man.A very dangerous man. She wouldn't want to cross him in a business deal.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid even if you offered me half of Tahoe I'd still have to turn it down. Lee Condor owns those pictures."

The stranger's smile turned to an ugly scowl. "You're being a fool, you know. Just tell him that the film was overexposed or something and you can find yourself quite a bit richer."

"Nice thought," Bryn said wearily, "but sorry. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

The boys had all grouped behind her. Bryn allowed them to push through so that, between the four of them, the annoying stranger was pushed off the porch. She hurried the boys into the van and hopped into the driver's seat, waving to the man who still stood watching them. "I hope I locked the door," she murmured absently.

"You did, Aunt Bryn," Keith assured her. "I saw you." "Good," she murmured back. "Thanks, Keith." A few minutes later she forgot the episode. Traffic was at its horrendous best. She was still thinking about the pictures, but she was thinking that she wanted to get to Kelly's as fast as she could, pick up the proofs and dump them into Barbara's hands. One headache out of the way!

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Kelly had the proofs ready. He was a lanky young man who looked more like fifteen than twenty-five, but Bryn was always thankful that she had stumbled on him a year ago. When she found herself in a jam, he was great--and more, he was talented.

"These are only proofs, of course, Bryn, but I think you're going to have some great shots. The backgrounds are wonderful. Looks like you managed to avoid any flaws. And Condor, what an interesting subject! I'd love to photograph him. All this commercial stuff, you usually get 'pretty boys.'

Condor's face has such character. A painter would go crazy with him."

"Yeah, thanks, Kelly. I hope I did get some good shots. Well, let me pay you."

"Only a few of the backgrounds will give you problems, and those will be so minimal that--"

"Kelly! Please! I can't tell you how much I appreciate this rush job, but I'm still in a hurry!" She wasn't really--she had the day off--but she didn't want to talk about Lee.

"Okay, Bryn, let me just tally you up. And hey...I really don't mind the rush at all. Just remember me when you get rich and famous, okay?"

"It's a promise, Kelly. But I don't think either of us should hold our breath!"

After she had paid Kelly and left the camera shop, Bryn forced herself to stop in a corner restaurant and circle the shots she liked best on the proof sheets while she sipped two cups of coffee and consumed a slightly rubbery grilled-cheese sandwich. Byone o'clockshe had dropped the large envelope at Barbara's office, and bytwo o'clockshe was home. She did a load of laundry, and while it went through she studiously exercised--not so much because she felt she couldn't afford a day of rest, but because she thought the strenuous activity might erase Condor from her mind.

But an hour's work didn't help, and when she had switched the laundry from the washer to the dryer, she hurried over to the complex pool and tried swimming. That didn't help either. But the kids did. They were thrilled to see her pick them up early again, and she found herself giving the afternoon over to them. They made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies and ate them while she read a space story out loud. The cookies left them all too stuffed for a big dinner, so Bryn--bemoaning her lack of expertise as a dietician--decided they would have a huge salad for dinner, with apples for dessert. It went well, and she felt as if she had semi-succeeded in being a decent parent by the time she tucked her three charges into bed.

At nine the phone rang. It was Barbara, calling quickly before starting work. The proofs and negatives had been turned over to Lee; he had said little, but seemed pleased enough. "See you tomorrow!"

Barbara said, ringing off. Tomorrow--anothergrueling day with the drum-beating sadist!

Bryn forced herself into bed early. She was pleasantly exhausted and fairly relaxed, or so she thought.

She did fall asleep. She knew she had fallen asleep easily because her dreams awoke her with such a shattering clarity. She had not just dreamed of his eyes, or his hands, or his shoulders.

She had dreamed of being with him. Lying beside him, naked, feeling him touch her all over...

She awoke shaking, shivering, covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, and feeling as if she were on fire.

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"Oh, my God, I need a psychiatrist!" she moaned softly to the night. But she didn't need a psychiatrist, and she knew it. Whether she liked it or not, she was attracted to Lee Condor. And it was very normal.

He was an extremely sensual man, and his aura of tension and strength was enhanced by the power of his character. No one who knew him would ever forget him. Nibbling absently on her lower lip, Bryn hugged her pillow and came to a sad realization. She was capable of independence, but she missed loving, and she missed sharing. When she had been with Joe, she had given him her whole heart. Loyalty hadn't been a virtue for her, it had been her nature. And caring that way, she had been able to give so freely....

Bryn tossed about, burying her head in the pillow. She wanted Condor. More than she had ever wanted Joe. But Joe had loved her, or at least at the time she had believed that he did.Completely. And sex was the strangest thing. She had friends who thought a woman was crazy not to enjoy a lot of experience before settling down. Bare acquaintances went to bed together nightly by the hundreds or thousands, she assumed. But to her it was all so intimate. It meant a bond between two people. Condor probably didn't want bonds, and she didn't want to be bonded to Condor. Not in any way.

So why did she still want him so badly that he haunted her dreams?

"He'll go away," she promised herself. "And I'll forget, and I'll stop dreaming. And maybe someday I will meet a man who loves me, who I can love, who doesn't mind an instant family...."

She lay awake a long time, dismally accepting the ways of the world--and of nature.

She must have slept again, because she awoke to hear the phone insistently ringing away. It rang ten times before she made it to the kitchen; she was certain she would answer it just as the caller hung up.

"Hello!" she gasped out breathlessly.

"Bryn Keller?"

"Yes," she said, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to shake the fog of broken sleep from her mind.

The voice sounded like something out of a late-night horror movie. It was a husky whisper--neither masculine nor feminine.

"I want the pictures. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you." She definitely heard the voice, but she couldn't believe the words. This had to be a joke. There was a menacing quality to the voice; it sent chills of fear running along her flesh.

"The pictures, Miss Keller.All of them.The proofs and the negatives.No omissions."

"Now wait a minute--"

"Do you like living, Miss Keller?"

"I'm going to call the police--"

She broke off as an eerie and ruthless chuckle interrupted her. "Sounds like you have a death wish, pretty lady. I would be real sorry to see you...disfigured. But then, there's not just you, is there? You wouldn't want to lose one of those little boys, now would you?"

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"No! No!" Bryn shrieked in panic. It wasn't a joke; she was suddenly certain that it was no joke.

"Then drop the pictures--"

"Wait, oh, please, wait! I haven't got the pictures. I've already--'' "What?" "I haven't got the pictures.

I've already turned them--"

"I don't believe you."

"But, I--"

"Shut up and listen to me. I'll check it out. Start praying if you'velied , lady. And pay sharp attention here. Don't call the police. Or whisper a word of this conversation to anyone. I'll know. And you'll be really sorry.Really sorry. Understand? Especially don't go to Condor. I'll know. And I'll check out what you've told me."

"I'm telling you--"

"You'll be hearing from me."

"Wait!"

A sharp click and a dull buzz told Bryn that the caller was no longer on the line. She stared at the receiver, numb with fear and incredulity.

"Aunt Bryn?"

She started shaking when Brian's voice startled her from her state of numbness.

"Aunt Bryn, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing," she lied. She started dragging bowls and cereal boxes from the cabinets, but her movements were rough and jerky. "Brian, go get your brothers. Your clothes are laid out on the dresser.

Help Adam for me, will you? Then hurry on down. We're running late this morning."

As the terror of actually hearing the voice began to fade, Bryn tried to convince herself that it had been a joke after all.

The fan who had appeared at her door was trying a scaretactic, that was all. She wasn't really in any danger. And she didn't have the pictures anymore. Lee had them. The caller would find that out, and that would be the end of it.

It had to be... it had to be... it had to be...

Somehow she managed to act normal. She hesitated when it was time to open the front door, but Keith bounded on past her and threw it open. A scream rose to her throat as she saw a man on the step again, but it disappeared unvoiced as she realized that today the male on her porch was only Andrew.

"Andrew! What are you doing here?"

He grimaced, lowering his head, then meeting her eyes sheepishly. "I...uh...had a late date. I'm in a state
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of... uh...mild intoxication.But I recognized your neighborhood and, well, would you give a hitchhiker a lift?''

Under normal circumstances she would have laughed. Andrew, the handsome, sexy, popular rock idol standing on her steps after a clandestine appointment like a delinquent child.

She didn't laugh. She was too glad to see him. He was flesh and blood and real, and his presence made the nightmare of the whispered voice fade away.

"Of course, Andrew.Hop in!" She pointed to the van.

"Want me to drive?" he queried.

Had he seen her hands shaking? "No, I'm used to the route," she told him. He laughed with the kids as she ushered them all into the vehicle. He began to talk about music, and Bryn slowly felt herself relax.

But something was troubling her. Andrew was in the back, next to Keith. She glanced at him in the mirror.