Tough Customer (32 page)

"As the result of a love triangle," she said without raising her head.

"Implied."

Dodge hissed something foul. Caroline sat down on the other double bed. She wanted to go to Berry but judiciously restrained herself.

Ski said, "What really pisses me off--excuse me, Caroline--is that the love triangle aspect is what they're exploiting."

Berry raised her head, saying angrily, "There was no love triangle."

"I get it, Berry," he said, matching her tone. "My point is that Davis Coldare's murder is being glossed over like it hardly mattered. It's a footnote. The media are playing up how Sally Buckland might have fit into a sordid little menage, while the important factor is that Oren Starks is a cold-blooded killer who's still at large."

Berry wilted a bit. "It's the juicy stuff that has viewers staying tuned until ten. Sex and scandal turns them on. Or off." She tossed back her head and used both hands to hold her hair away from her face. Caroline saw dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "Certainly my boss at Delray was concerned about my involvement."

Caroline glanced at the discarded cell phone. "That's who you were talking to?"

Berry nodded. "My days at Delray are no more."

"What!" Caroline shot to her feet. "He fired you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," Berry said with a bitter laugh. "If they had fired me over this, I would have sued them, and they know it. However--and it's a big
however
--Delray's position is that the company takes the mental health of each employee very seriously. In light of the succession of traumas that I've experienced in recent days, wouldn't it be in my best interest, and, by extension, that of the company, if I took an extended leave of absence? When I assured my boss that my mental health would be fully restored once Oren was in police custody, he insisted that I give myself time to recuperate from these disturbing events. In other words, he and everyone at Delray wish for me to make myself scarce."

"What about your presentation tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes, that. Regarding my participation in that campaign from here forward, the client wouldn't dream of being a source of additional stress during this difficult time. Therefore, they've agreed to wait until Ben has adequately recovered from his injury so that he can present the proposed campaign
as well as
assume total responsibility for its implementation."

Caroline was seething. "Wait a sec. Are you saying ... Am I to understand that you're considered mentally
impaired
by all this, but Ben Lofland isn't?"

"It would seem so, yes. And just in case there's any doubt of Ben's fortitude, emotional and/or physical, Amanda, in a lengthy and enlightening telephone conversation this afternoon, assured our boss that Ben is ready to take the lead and run with it. I rather imagine she painted me as a scarlet woman who's suffering the slings and arrows of my own treachery."

"That little bitch!"

"She had her claws out, all right." Berry gave another dry, mirthless laugh. "I wonder. If Oren had shot me instead of Ben, would I have been considered a heroine? Or would I still be looked upon as the attempted home-wrecker who got her comeuppance? That's a good topic for debate, don't you think?"

"What I think," Dodge said, "is that your bosses at this outfit are lily-livered assholes.You're better off never darkening the door of that place again."

"I agree with you, and I'm sure that's the position Delray predicted and hoped that I would take," Berry said. "The concern for my well-being that the boss so effusively conveyed was in actuality his safety net. He wants my resignation. He just needs the decision to be mine so that his hands can stay clean. I left it open-ended for now. Let them sweat it for a few weeks. But I already know what my final decision will be."

"My two cents' worth," Ski said, "you're too good for them."

She looked up at him with watery eyes and said hoarsely, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

For several seconds they seemed to forget that Caroline and Dodge were still in the room, then Ski pulled himself into the here and now. Duties awaited him.

"I'd better shove off."

"There's an extra bed in my room next door," Dodge said. "You're welcome to it."

Ski thanked him but declined the offer. "Sally Buckland's murder case belongs to the Houston detectives. I've got Davis Coldare's to deal with."

"Last we heard from Starks, he was here in Houston."

"Yeah, Dodge, but I can't help thinking..."

"What?"

Ski ran his hand around the back of his neck. "Oren wanted to thumb his nose at me and everyone else who was searching for him. That's why he came back here to place that call to Berry today. He knew we'd beat it here, try and chase him down. He wanted to cause confusion and make us look and feel inept." He smiled crookedly. "He succeeded."

" 'Spinning Wheel.'"

All of them looked at Berry, who'd whispered the words.

"Blood, Sweat and Tears," she said. " 'Spinning Wheel.' That's the tune he was humming during our phone conversation."

"Dammit, you're right," Ski said.

"Well, ain't our boy cute?" Dodge said. Then he dropped all traces of humor, sarcastic or otherwise. "I gotta kill this son of a bitch. I really do."

"He raped Sally, didn't he?" Berry asked, directing the question to Ski.

"I don't know about penetration," he said evasively. "Maybe he just..." He let the statement trail off, for which Caroline was glad. "I won't know till I get the autopsy report from Detective Allen."

Thoughts of what that young woman might have suffered subdued them for several moments; then Caroline addressed Ski. "You were theorizing on his motive for calling Berry."

"Yeah. What really worries me is that he might have had something else up his sleeve when he got us out of Merritt."

"Like what?" Dodge asked.

"I don't know. That's why I need to get back." He looked down at Berry. "I assume you're returning in the morning?"

"I've got nowhere else to be."

"Okay. I'm going to keep the guards at the lake house. But I'm going to make it appear I've pulled them off. They'll still be there when you get back. Just invisible."

"Laying a trap for him?" Dodge asked.

"Oren won't fall for it," Berry said.

"I don't think so, either," Ski said, "but it doesn't hurt to keep some people in place, just in case."

He commissioned Dodge to remain vigilant, then looked down at Berry. "Are you going to be all right?"

The question was softly spoken, personal, and effectively excluded Caroline and Dodge. Berry nodded, but it was a tentative motion. Their gazes held for what seemed like a long time, then, without another word, Ski strode to the door and left.

The instant the door closed behind him, Berry jumped up and charged across the room. But at the door, she stopped. Caroline watched as that one burst of energy deserted her. She leaned into the door, pressed her forehead against it, and remained that way for several seconds before decisively flipping the dead bolt and securing the chain.

When she turned back around, she went directly into the bathroom, saying, "I'm going to soak in the tub for a while."

She didn't come out for almost an hour. When she did, she was wrapped in a towel; another was around her hair. Her skin was rosy. Her eyes were red.

"You've been crying," Caroline said.

"I got it out of my system." She whipped off the towel turban and shook loose her wet hair. "But I don't know what I've got to cry about. Not when I think of Sally's last hours. She, Davis Coldare, they're the real victims, not me." She unzipped her small suitcase and took out a tank top and boxer shorts.

Caroline said, "I waited to order a room service supper."

"You should have gone ahead. I'm not hungry. Where's Dodge?"

"In his room. He thought you and I needed some time alone."

Berry removed the towel from around her and pulled on the sleepwear. "Anything more from Ski?"

"He called Dodge about fifteen minutes ago. Nothing to report. He just wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't look happy to be leaving."

"He shouldn't be driving back to Merritt until he's slept. He looked exhausted. Did you notice his eyes?"

"He can't keep them off you." Berry turned her head and looked at Caroline, who added softly, "I noticed
that.
"

Berry lay down on the bed, stacking two pillows beneath her head and hugging another to her chest. Nervously she plucked at the corner of the pillowcase. "It could never work between him and me."

"Why do you say that?"

"For a thousand different reasons."

"Name a few."

"So you can shoot them down?"

"One by one."

She looked across the narrow space separating them. "You like the idea of him and me becoming an us?"

"Only if you do, Berry. But you would have my approval."

"Don't get your hopes up. We're two entirely different types."

"Um-huh. He's male, you're female."

Berry smiled. "You know what I mean. We want different things."

"But do you want each other?" Berry gave her another sharp look, and Caroline laughed. "Don't bother answering. You just have. And, anyway, it's palpable every time you're near each other."

She smiled at Berry with affection. "You and Ski may want different things, you may be different types, but all that has little to do with attraction. He's fighting it as hard as you are, but it's obvious that he likes you."

Berry turned her head and looked toward the ceiling. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and slid into her wet hair. "He won't."

"What do you mean?"

"Not now, Mother, okay?"

Caroline hesitated, then said, "Okay."

She'd invited Berry to open up to her, but if she wasn't ready to do so, they'd just as well try to rest. She put her suitcase on the bed and unzipped it, then reached in and pulled out the nightgown she had hastily stuffed into it before they left the lake house. That seemed like a long time ago, much longer than the several hours it had been.

During those rushed minutes before their departure, Berry had been checking the contents of her portfolio to make sure she had everything she would need for her presentation, which now wouldn't take place.

Dodge had been waiting for them by the car, puffing cigarettes for all he was worth, unaware that Caroline was watching him from her bedroom window and wondering why his face, for all its cynicism and signs of unrepentant abuse, was the one in all the world that could still make her heart trip. Thirty years' time hadn't diminished its appeal to her.

She could speak to Berry about attraction, because she knew well the dominating ferocity of it. Even when it made no sense, when it was just plain wrong, one was powerless against it.

"I always thought it was Roger Campton."

Caroline, lost in her reverie, didn't immediately grasp what Berry had said. When she did, she froze momentarily. Then slowly she came around, clutching her nightgown to her chest like a shield.

"I thought my birth father was Roger Campton."

Caroline, rendered speechless by surprise, said nothing.

"I was in middle school," Berry continued. "Eighth grade to be exact. Roger Campton died in that plane crash down in Mexico. One of the girls at school told me that her mother had told her that you were engaged to him before you married Daddy. And she asked me if you were sad that he had died.

"I'd never heard of Roger Campton. Neither you nor Daddy had ever spoken that name within my hearing. I told the girl she was wrong. But she insisted that her mother wasn't a liar. Why would she make that up?

"So the following morning, I got Daddy's newspaper and read about the plane crash. There was a whole story about Roger Campton, his growing up in Houston, joining his father's company after graduating from SMU's business school. Wealthy, influential family. Socially prominent. His picture showed him to be very handsome.

"Because he wasn't married when he died, I spun this romantic fantasy. His heart had been so severely broken when you married Daddy instead of him that he remained single. But I figured that you, sensible as you are, would have had a very good reason for choosing Dad over him.

"I was happy with the way things were. I loved Dad with all my heart. I couldn't very well grieve for a man I hadn't known. Nevertheless, I was glad that I'd uncovered the secret of who my real father was." She held Caroline's gaze for ponderous seconds, then said, "But it wasn't Roger Campton, was it, Mother?"

Caroline shook her head.

"After Daddy died, and I encouraged you to get back into circulation, you told me you weren't interested in dating, or having a relationship, none of that. You told me that you'd had a good marriage to a wonderful husband. You told me that you'd had the love of your life. I assumed they were one and the same man." Berry gave her a rueful smile. "But they weren't."

Caroline sank down onto the edge of the bed.

"My birth father was the love of your life."

Caroline nodded.

"Dodge."

Tears spilled over Caroline's lower eyelids and rolled down her cheeks.

DODGE WAS WAITING FOR CAROLINE WHEN A NURSE WHEELED her out of the hospital. The wheelchair was unnecessary, but it was a nonnegotiable hospital policy.

His car was illegally parked at the curb. An eight-by-ten card behind the windshield had the Houston PD logo stenciled on it, making the car look official enough to ward off parking monitors.

He was leaning against the passenger door, ankles and arms crossed. As the nurse guided the chair through the automatic door, he pushed himself off the car and walked toward them.