The Cutting Edge (15 page)

She'd been too certain of her own charms, she realized bitterly; it was poetic justice. She was so used to men falling all over themselves for her that it had never entered her mind that Brett Rutland wasn't going to do the same. All her life, she'd been able to get around men with her slow smile and a flutter of her long lashes, but Brett Rutland was pure steel, and he'd probably smiled coldly to himself as he wound her around his little finger, all the while allowing her to believe that she was the one doing the charming.

But, dear God, she'd never been malicious in her flirting! Had she really deserved this?

It was the blackest night of her life, worse even than the one before. At least then she'd been numb and had eventually slept. There was no sleep for her tonight. She lay awake, chilled even beneath the blanket, and none of the prayers she sent up in any way lightened the darkness in her heart. Her heart beat slowly, heavily, as if it would never again race with joy or pound with excitement at being in the arms of the man she loved.

At dawn, she got up and prepared breakfast, but could force herself to eat only a slice of toast. It was hours yet before Silver's plane was due in, yet she had nothing else to do to pass the time. She dressed and drove to L.A. International, where she sat for hours in a coffee shop drinking cup after cup of coffee until her stomach was upset and she was forced to buy a roll of antacid tablets. Her mind was blank of all thoughts except the most superficial ones as she sat in the uncomfortable seat and waited for Silver's plane.

It landed at one-thirty, and she was waiting when Silver came out of the tunnel. As soon as she saw her aunt, Tessa felt some of the burden ease from her shoulders, and she actually smiled.

“Tessa, honey.” Silver's warm, throaty voice, so much like Tessa's own, sounded in her ear as loving arms enveloped her, and the two women hugged each other with the fierceness of family love and loyalty.

“I'm glad you're here,” Tessa said simply.

“You knew I'd come, and I'll stay as long as you need me. Gatlinburg can get along without me for a while.”

They retrieved Silver's suitcase, and by the time they'd reached the car, Silver was making plans. She wasn't going to let her beloved niece be railroaded into jail without a fight that would make Brett Rutland think he'd caught a wildcat by the tail, with no way to turn it loose. The first thing to do was see this lawyer Tessa had hired and judge for herself if he was capable of fighting as fiercely for Tessa as he should.

* * *

B
Y NOON, THERE
wasn't a person working for Carter Engineering who didn't know that Tessa Conway had been arrested for embezzlement, and Brett was coldly furious. Damn it, he'd done everything he could to keep it quiet for as long as possible. Despite what she'd done, he wanted to spare Tessa as much as he could. The knowledge that he wouldn't be able to protect her from the worst ate at him, like a gnawing animal inside. He hadn't even been able to keep gossip down for a measly two days. The only person who knew, besides himself, was Evan, though Helen was too smart not to have figured out most of it by now. But when he questioned
them, they both denied breathing a word to anyone else. Helen eyed his stony face warily. She'd never before seen a man look so deadly. “I've been asked about it by at least ten different people this morning,” she said. “Do you want me to try to track it down? Someone had to tell them.”

“Find out,” Brett said in a clipped tone.

Helen was competent enough and determined enough that Brett had no doubt that she'd be able to trace the gossip to its source before the day was out, and he only hoped he'd feel calmer by the time he knew the person's identity. But, damn it, who else could know?

He'd never been the most popular guy around. His job made that impossible, and his aloof personality only increased the distance between himself and the people he dealt with. But he'd never before felt himself to be so violently unpopular as he had that morning. People all over the building were glaring at him, including the guard. Tessa's charm had bubbled out and touched everyone she met, blinding them so that they were ready to ignore any evidence and rush to her defense.

Less than an hour later, Martha Billingsley, Tessa's friend, stood in his office with her arms crossed and her face hostile. “I heard that you're trying to find out how the news got out,” she said coldly. “I did it.”

Brett got to his feet, towering over the small redhead, who nevertheless continued to glare up at him. “I thought you were her friend,” he snapped.

“I am. Friend enough that I want everyone to know what a raw deal she got. Tessa never stole a penny in her life. If you don't like what I'm saying, then fire me.”

“Who told you about it?” he asked, ignoring her last statement.

“Tessa.”

Somehow, he hadn't expected that. He'd have thought Tessa would try to keep it as quiet as she could. “She called you?”

“No. I went to her apartment last night.”

His fist slowly clenched. Her face, when she'd left his hotel room, had been white and blank. Her last words had gone around and around in his mind, but still he couldn't pin down her meaning.
No, I don't think it would change anything at all,
she'd said, her voice remote, and she'd turned and quietly left. Did she mean that she thought he'd go through with the prosecution even if she were pregnant? She'd been so pale that he'd started to go after her, but his pride had stopped him. He wouldn't chase after her like a dog after a bitch in heat, not after he knew her for a liar and a thief.

“How was she?” he asked rawly, unable to stop the words.

Billie gave him a scathing look. “What do you care?”

“Damn it, how was she?” he roared, a muscle jerking in his cheek as he felt his control breaking.

It wasn't in Billie's pugnacious character to back down. “If you're so interested, go see for yourself, though I doubt Tessa would let you in the door.” She stormed out, and even slammed the door behind her. Brett itched to grab the little red-headed wildcat and shake her, but at the same time he felt a grudging respect for her. Few people stood up to him at all.

Restlessly he paced over to the window. What sort of game was Tessa playing now? Did she think that if
she stirred up enough support in the ranks at Carter Engineering, the charges against her would be dropped? Who knew what went on in her mind? She was a thief, a woman skilled enough at deceit that he'd been totally taken in by her until the evidence had forced him to accept the truth. She was capable of such a high degree of duplicity that the two images he had of her still warred in his mind. He simply couldn't blend them together into a single person.

And he wanted her. Heaven help him, he still wanted her.

* * *

T
ESSA STRIPPED THE
bed and put clean sheets on it. “You can have the bed,” she told Silver calmly. “I'll sleep on the couch.”

“I'll do no such thing,” Silver retorted, helping Tessa smooth the sheets. “I'll take the couch.”

“It'll be crowded, with both of us on the couch,” Tessa said. She didn't look up. “I can't sleep in here. I've been sleeping on the couch since—”

She broke off, her hands busy, and Silver watched her niece worriedly. Tessa had changed, and it wasn't simply that she was distraught at being arrested, though that was enough to make anyone a nervous wreck. But Tessa wasn't nervous; she was calm, unnaturally so. The sparkle that had always lit her from the inside was gone. Silver didn't want to think that it had been extinguished permanently, but she'd never seen Tessa like this before, not even after Andrew.

Silver looked at the bed, then back at Tessa. “He seduced you, didn't he?”

“At the time, I thought he was making love,” Tessa
said, after a silent moment. She smiled at Silver, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. “I'll be all right. At least I'm not pregnant.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. This morning.” Brett didn't have anything to worry about now. He could prosecute her with a clear conscience. Then she shoved him out of her mind, because she couldn't think about him any longer without breaking down, something that she refused to do. She had to keep the pain at bay, or she wouldn't be able to function. To that end, she kept her thoughts concerned only with the present. Rehashing every moment she'd spent with him wouldn't accomplish anything except to undermine her emotionally.

She was tired, very tired after not having slept the night before, but she wondered if the coming night would be any better. Her eyes were burning, yet she felt unable to close them.

The phone rang. Tessa jumped; then her face closed up, her eyes going curiously blank. “You answer it,” she told Silver abruptly. “I'll finishing making the bed.”

Frowning, Silver went into the living room and picked up the phone. “Hello.” Tessa could hear Silver's side of the conversation clearly from the bedroom, and she tensed. What if it was Brett? No, she was being stupid. Brett wasn't going to call her. He'd gone out of his way to make certain she couldn't reach him by phone, so he wasn't likely to try to call her. Quickly she finished smoothing the comforter, then went into the bathroom and closed the door, running the water so she wouldn't be able to hear anything Silver said.

After a few moments, Silver tapped on the bathroom
door, and Tessa hastily shut off the water. “That was your friend Billie.”

Tessa opened the door. “Thank you,” she said quietly, knowing that no explanations were needed.

Silver thought about passing along everything Billie had told her, but she decided against it. Tessa had already made it clear that she didn't want to discuss Brett Rutland in any way.

Still, it was disquieting that Tessa went immediately to the telephone and unplugged it.

Tessa had a meeting with her lawyer the next day, and Silver went with her. If Calvin Stine didn't approve of having anyone else present, he gave no sign of it. His gray eyes seemed sharper than before as he surveyed Tessa.

“I've talked with John Morrison, the district attorney. He seems to think there's an open-and-shut case against you.”

Meeting his eyes, she saw that he didn't believe in her innocence, and her blood chilled. “I didn't take the money,” she said, her voice expressionless. “Someone else did.”

“Then that someone has done a good job of making it look as if you did it,” he pointed out.

“Isn't it your job to find out who that someone is?” Silver broke in, glaring at the man.

He had such cold eyes, Tessa thought. “No, ma'am, that's an investigator's job. My job is to give your niece the best legal counsel and representation in court that I can. My job is to present evidence that contradicts theirs, or to cause the jury to doubt the prosecution's evidence.”

“And if the only way of proving my innocence is to find out who is really the guilty one?” Tessa asked softly.

He sighed. “Miss Conway, you've been watching too many ‘Perry Mason' reruns. It doesn't work that way. We're dealing with computer theft. There are no marked bills, no fingerprints, no bloody dagger, as it were. Everything is done in an electronic file.”

“And my name was used.”

“Your name was used,” he agreed.

Her back was very straight, her voice as level as his. “Very well, then, where is the money? What have I done with it? Have I spent it? If so, on what? Do you think that an embezzler steals just to stockpile the money somewhere and not use it?”

“It's been known to happen.” His eyebrows lifted. “If the money is invested under another name, or simply hidden in a savings account somewhere, an embezzler can expect to serve a fairly short sentence in prison, then collect the money on his or her release and simply disappear.”

“So there's no way to prove my innocence unless the real embezzler confesses?”

“That's another unlikely scenario. It doesn't happen.”

Tessa got to her feet. “Then I suppose it's up to me,” she told him politely. “Thank you for your time.”

He got to his feet, frowning slightly. “What do you mean, it's up to you?”

“To prove my innocence, of course.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“By tracking down the real embezzler. I know someone who can help.”

When they were in the car, Silver said sharply, “Tessa, you don't need him. I think you should hire another lawyer.”

“I don't think hiring another lawyer would do any good.” Tessa waited for a break in the traffic, then accelerated sharply. “He was being honest with me, and I prefer that to someone who'll only pretend to believe me.”

After a moment, Silver nodded. “What are you going to do? Who do you know who can help?”

“I don't know that he will, but I'm going to ask him. His name is Sammy Wallace. He's a genius with computers. If anyone can track down an electronic thief, Sammy can.” Then she frowned. “I don't want him to jeopardize his job, though. He works at Carter Engineering, and he'd probably be fired if anyone knew he was trying to help me.”

“Ask him anyway,” Silver urged. “Let him make his own decision about that. Having to find another job isn't as bad as going to jail!”

For the first time since she'd been arrested, Tessa smiled, really smiled, though it was quickly gone. “No, I guess it isn't.” She was faced with prison, something so ghastly that her mind shied away from the thought of it. Suddenly she wondered if she'd be fighting to prove her innocence if she'd only been fired, instead of having charges pressed against her. Would she have accepted the stigma of thief if she didn't have to fight for her freedom as well as her name? She had the shamed feeling that she would have. It would have been the easiest way. But not now. She'd learned the value of honor. Her own sense of honor was all she had left now, that and her freedom, and her freedom was in jeopardy.