Past Tense (18 page)

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Authors: Freda Vasilopoulos

Tags: #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Past Tense
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“No, I don’t think she is. But she seems different, nervous somehow. Oh, Tony, what can I do? I don’t know who to trust any more.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, resting his cheek against her hair, breathing in the fragrance of it. “You can trust me, Sam.”

“Can I, Tony?” she asked sadly.

His embrace tightened fiercely. “Yes. You can. Believe it, Sam.”

The clean woodsy scent of him seeped into her. Under her cheek, his heart beat steadily. She felt safe with him, an oasis of peace in the nightmare day. She clung to him as if he were the only buffer between her and hellish reality.

Trust me
, he’d said. There was no one she could trust, but for a moment she needed to believe.

“Yes, Tony, I trust you.”

 

Chapter Twelve

 

“Okay, Sam, here’s what we’ll do.” To Sam’s surprise, Tony let her go and moved back to his own side of the car. He scanned the street.

“I’ll go to that phone booth and see if we can get a flight back to London.” He briefly touched her cheek. “Wait here.”

“I got lucky,” he said when he came back. “There’s seats on a flight this afternoon. But we have to get there as quickly as possible.”

“Bennett’s bound to realize we’ll head back to London. He wouldn’t be on the same flight, would he?”

Humor flickered through his eyes. “Why? Scared he’ll hijack the plane to get even with you?”

Sam didn’t smile. She’d had too bitter a taste of what Bennett might be capable of. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Tony restarted the car, letting it idle for a moment. “Don’t worry, Sam. I checked it out with someone I know down at the booking office. Bennett’s not on any flight in the next two days. And the seats they gave us were only available because of last minute cancellations. So unless he booked under an assumed name, which wouldn’t be very easy to pull off because of security regulations, we’re safe.”

“Until he catches up with us again.” Sam thought of the snatch of conversation she’d overheard. “Tony, why don’t you let me go on my own? As long as you’re with me, you’re in danger. Aunt Olivia mentioned you to Bennett, and he said he’d take care of it.”

“That’s hardly a threat,” Tony scoffed, putting the car in gear. “Did they know you heard this?”

Samantha wrinkled her brow. “They might have, although they didn’t look too put out when they saw how close I was.”

“That’s just it, Sam. Has it occurred to you that they’re trying to intimidate you? Even to the extent of implying a threat to me.”

“But they don’t even know that there’s anything between us.” Heat ran up Sam’s face and she turned her head. “Not that there is anything,” she said, backtracking.

“Isn’t there, Sam? Your aunt saw us together. She’s not blind.” Amusement laced his voice as he turned back into the traffic. “Sam,” he added gently, “I’m not going to let you go this alone. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to help you.”

“Even if it’s dangerous?”

A reckless grin curved his mouth. “Especially if it’s dangerous. You need someone to help you get to the bottom of this. Besides, I—”
love you
? He caught the words in time, the thought startling, too sudden to take in. “I care about you,” he amended hastily.

It was rapidly becoming much more than that, he knew. Over the past week his admiration for her courage, his attraction to her beauty, even his sometimes frustrating impatience with her stubbornness, had begun to fill his mind and heart. Was he ready to love her? He turned over the idea in his mind, testing it. The concept was too new to assess at this moment, he realized. Once the conference was over…

“Do you think Bennett is looking for us right now?” Sam asked, breaking into his introspection.

“Probably. How well does he know Paris?”

“I don’t know. He’s come here on business in the past. But there’s always the chauffeur. He might recognize this car if he saw it again. That reminds me,” Sam added. “I haven’t thanked you for coming to my rescue.”

Tony grinned at her. “No thanks necessary. I got your message that you were leaving the hotel, and I figured you must be in some kind of trouble.”

“But where did you get a car so quickly?”

“It belongs to the hotel, for running errands. Quite a run we’ve taken it on.”

They were cruising along Boulevard Saint-Germain when Tony, who’d been keeping an eye on the rearview mirror, asked, “What color was the BMW?”

“Blue. Medium blue,” Sam said. “Why?”

“Because I think it’s behind us.”

Sam craned her neck to look back. A white Renault followed them and behind it came a blue BMW.

“Well?” Tony said, braking for a light. “Is it the one?”

“I can’t see it clearly. Wait, he’s catching up. Tony, it’s him. I can tell by the gold-rimmed sunglasses.” She frowned. “But he’s alone. Where’s Bennett?”

“Who cares? Hang on, Sam. We’re going to lose this guy.” His hand gripped the gear lever. “As soon as the light changes.”

“How did they find us? The car they were dragging me to was facing the other way.”

“That car was black. They must have parked the BMW on the other side of the street and followed us. The bootlegger turn we made caused enough confusion that the driver could have run across the street and reached the car.”

Sam braced her hand on the dash as the light changed. The car snarled across the intersection. “We stopped in the side street—Tony, watch it, you just went through a red light.”

“So did the BMW.” The two-note cadence of a siren rose behind them. “Oh, oh, here come the cops.”

Instead of slowing down, Tony sped up, nipping in front of a delivery truck that was slowing for a turn. He whipped the steering wheel around and sent the little Peugeot down a narrow lane, then made a quick left turn, followed by a right. The scream of the siren faded in the distance.

A short run the wrong way down a fortunately deserted one-way alley brought them into the parking lot of a large hospital. Tony downshifted and pulled sedately into a parking space. He turned off the engine, his breath coming in uneven spurts.

“Now what?”

Turning his head he looked at Sam. Like him, she was breathing hard. Excitement and an excess of adrenaline painted bright color over her cheeks. Instead of shivering with fear, she looked ready to take on Bennett, his thugs, and the entire Parisian police force.

Tony felt as if a fist had clenched his heart and then let go. “Sam, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, hardly aware of what he was saying.

Passion ignited within her, sending incandescent sparkles through her body. She leaned into the hand that Tony lifted to her cheek, nuzzling it with a soft, open-mouth kiss. Was danger arousing? She’d never felt like this.

“Sam, you’re so sweet.” His breath kissed her lips just before his mouth came down on hers. She savored the scent of him, the heat of his lips.

“If only we had time,” he muttered, pulling away much too soon, and with obvious reluctance.

His fingers trailed a hot path down her throat before he jerked them down to the ignition switch. Disappointed, Sam closed her eyes, her limbs heavy with a lassitude almost as profound as the aftermath of love.

Tony drove out of the parking lot, keeping to little-used alleys and side streets until they reached the highway that would carry them to the airport. There was no sign of pursuit.

“I’ll phone the hotel about the car,” Tony said as he found a parking spot. “They’ll send somebody to pick it up.”

Their flight was already being called when they entered the busy terminal. A short time later they were taxiing down the runway.

* * * *

London greeted Sam and Tony with stormy clouds and gusts of rain that beat on the windows of the train they took into the city.

“As soon as we get home, we’re going to have to see Maurice St. Clair,” Tony said.

“I don’t understand why he wants to see me,” Samantha said. “Who is he, anyway?”

Tony hesitated, then said softly. “I’ll tell you, but this is in the strictest confidence. He works for the Canadian government.”

“The government?” Sam echoed. “I thought you told me he was a rebel in university.”

“He was, but it seems he left that behind a long time ago. He’s a completely respectable civil servant now. He’s investigating Dubray.”

“But he met with him. Wouldn’t Dubray have suspected something?”

Tony laughed softly. “My dear innocent, that’s the secret of expert investigation. You make business deals with the investigatee. Throws him off the scent. Skulking around, putting a tail on people, things like that make people suspicious.”

“What’s he investigating Dubray for? That business that got him fired from city hall?”

“Sam, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t expect Maurice to tell me. And he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s anything other than an ordinary businessman at the moment.”

Sam nodded. “He’s not investigating Bennett as well, is he?”

Tony shrugged. “As far as I know Bennett hasn’t done anything that warrants investigation. At least if he has, no one’s found out about it. Nor about any association he had with Germain. The incident you witnessed might be the only time they met in person. Which makes you dangerous to him.”

With a chill Sam remembered Bennett’s words about precarious positions. “He’s up to something, Tony. I know it. And it’s to do with politics and Paul Messier. I think he’d like him to become prime minister.”

Tony scowled darkly. “High hopes.”

After hearing the determined, almost fanatical tone of Bennett’s words that afternoon, Sam couldn’t quite laugh off the idea as completely preposterous. “That’s what I thought. The present prime minister is young and vigorous, hardly likely to step down even if he were defeated in an election. And Messier would have to become federal party leader first.”

“Money—a lot of money—in the right places. Also having you on their side as Bennett’s wife wouldn’t hurt. Even political supporters increase their own and their candidates’ credibility if they project the right image.”

“Tony, you know it’s not that simple. There are laws about political contributions. And none of the present party leaders look about to resign.”

“Enough money could dig up something that could force a resignation. Nobody’s past is completely clean. Or if they were to die—”

An icy frisson ran up Samantha’s spine. Death. Even more certain than a scandal. Was that what Bennett had in mind? To kill in order to open up Messier’s opportunities?

Assassination. The word slammed through Tony’s mind. Enough statesmen in high positions were invited to the conference that the event would present an almost irresistible temptation to would-be assassins. And that would certainly shake up the political hierarchy in Canada.

Was it possible that an attempt would be made to kill one of the delegates at the conference? The organizers had received the usual veiled threats from anonymous sources. Although nothing was dismissed out of hand, the threats were treated as an expected annoyance. They were investigated, but most proved to be without substance.

Maurice had hinted at deeper trouble, but again had produced nothing to back up his speculations. This business with Bennett Price put the matter in an entirely different light.

Tony took Sam by the shoulders, his grip hard and urgent. “Sam, there’s got to be something we’re overlooking. Bennett’s got a plan and we can’t see it. And it’s probably staring us right in our faces. The sooner we talk to Maurice, the better.”

Her eyes widened at his sudden agitation. “Yes, but first I want to talk to James again. Maybe he knows if Bennett’s had anything to do with Dubray lately. My aunt’s reaction when I mentioned his name was odd, to say the least.”

* * * *

“I think it would be safer if you stayed with me for a few days,” Tony said when they reached Victoria Station.

As Tony had pointed out earlier, Bennett knew where Sam lived. After the kidnapping attempt, who knew how far he would go to bring her under his control? She was safer away from there until they knew more and could formulate a plan of action.

She only made one condition. “We have to go over to my flat later and feed Bagheera. He must be missing me.”

Once in Tony’s house Sam put through a call to James Michaels.

“Sorry to bother you again, James,” she said without preamble. “But there are a few things I need to know. Have you ever heard of a man named Maurice St. Clair?”

She could hear the humming of the transatlantic line as he considered the question. “Sorry, Sam,” he said at last. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Sam looked across at Tony. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Now, do you remember the case of Robert Dubray, the man who resigned from city hall under a cloud? Do you happen to know what he did that caused him to lose his job?”

“I can’t say that I do, Sam. But if you give me a little time, I’ll find out and get back to you. What’s your number there?”

For an instant she hesitated. Hiding had become second nature to her. She shrugged. If Bennett knew where she was, it would be ridiculous to hide from James, a man she trusted impeccably. “It’s in London. At the moment I’m staying with a friend.” She recited the number.

“I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“Well?” Tony said when she hung up.

“He’s never heard of St. Clair, but he’s going to check on Dubray.”

Tony let out a long breath. “Okay.” He got up and walked to the phone. “I’ll give Maurice a ring, tell him we’ll be by later.”

“Yes, it shouldn’t be long before James gets back to me.”

Crossing her arms, Sam began to pace about the room. “I wonder what Bennett’s up to,” she mused aloud when Tony put down the phone.

Tony sat back in his chair next to a window overlooking the courtyard. “Politically? Or with you?”

“Both. Why did he try to kidnap me? He’s knows I’m not a pushover. At least he should by now.”

“Obviously he thought he could put some kind of pressure on you. Sam, would he be able to gain control of Smith Industries through you?”

“I don’t see how. I’ve got controlling interest, but it’s not even as simple as that.”

Tony closed his eyes. Sam could see tension in the tightening of his mouth. “Sam, is it possible that he could make your marriage look real, giving people the idea everything was okay between you? Your aunt wants to believe that. Maybe others would, too. And is it also possible that he could somehow make you look incompetent and so gain control over your shares?”

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