His emotions had swung from hurt and pain to raw fury; then the anger had changed to outraged pride, and a determination that she would never have the chance to make a fool of him again. Now, however, pride didn’t seem very important beside the fact that he’d lose her forever if he let her go to prison. Her guilt no longer mattered. What mattered was that he have her back in his arms again. He’d coddle her and keep her safe for the rest of her life, and make damned sure that she never got in this kind of mess again.
With that inner realization that nothing else meant as much to him as Tessa, he became aware of a growing sense of peace, an easing of the weight on his shoulders. The action he needed to take was abruptly clear. He never thought that it would be easy, but he knew what had to be done. He’d catch the first flight he could get to San Francisco.
He was able to go back to sleep, but he woke early, eager to get things moving. There was no need to pack. He planned to be back that night, even if he had to drive. He showered and shaved, not noticing in the mirror that his face was set in grim determination. After calling the airlines and getting a seat on a flight leaving at nine-twenty, he called Evan.
“I’m going to see Joshua this morning,” he said grimly when Evan answered.
“Has something come up?”
“I’m not letting her go to jail.”
Evan sighed. “It’s about time. What’re you going to tell the old man? He was dead set on making an example of the thief.”
“I’ll handle it.” If Joshua didn’t decide to make things difficult, he had a plan all worked out, one that would reimburse Joshua and keep Tessa out of jail. If Joshua wouldn’t go along with that, Brett knew what he had to do.
“Have you talked to Tessa?”
“No. I don’t want her to know anything about it yet.” Perhaps it was a little cruel to keep her in the dark, but not as cruel as getting her hopes up and keeping her nerves strung out until she could hear from him again.
“Maybe this will settle things down at work,” Evan grunted.
“Maybe.” As he hung up, an unwilling grin touched Brett’s hard mouth. Tessa didn’t lack for support. Everyone was in an uproar, and he was about as welcome as Typhoid Mary. He expected to get a knife in the back at any time from that little red-headed spitfire, and a couple of times he’d had the uneasy feeling that the papers in his office weren’t exactly as he’d left them. It didn’t matter, because he kept all important papers locked in his briefcase, and all the evidence against Tessa was in the D.A.’s possession, but if he caught anyone in his office they’d be fired on the spot. Even spineless Perry Smitherman had gotten huffy with him, something that had given him a moment of bitter amusement at the incongruity of it.
Shortly before noon, he was striding through the plush dove-gray carpeted corridors of the Carter-Marshall building. Some of the people he passed greeted him; most didn’t. The frown on his face was enough to discourage all but the most intrepid.
He entered Joshua Carter’s office, and the secretary looked up. A smile lit her pretty face as she recognized him. “This is a surprise. We weren’t expecting you, were we?”
“No, we weren’t,” he growled, but he managed a tight smile for her. Donna had done a lot of favors for him in the past.
“Are you back for good…until the next crisis, that is?”
“Just a flying visit. I need to see Joshua. It’s urgent.”
Donna pursed her lips, frowning. “Well, he has a luncheon appointment, but I’ll stall them. Go on in.”
“Thanks. I’ll dance at your next wedding.”
“Deliver me,” she muttered. Donna was currently off men, having just gotten through a messy divorce.
Brett gave the door one hard rap, then opened it. Joshua Carter looked up from his desk, surprise widening his eyes; then he grinned. “Hell, I should’ve known who it was from the way you came barging in, but I didn’t know you were back. Everything sewn up down there?”
Brett put his briefcase on a chair and walked over to the bar that occupied one end of Joshua’s office, going behind it to the coffeepot that was always kept full. He poured a steaming cup of coffee, then looked up at his employer. Joshua was of medium height, but bulky from a lifetime of doing hard manual work. His gray hair was thinning, and he had to wear glasses now, but there was still a glint in his hard blue eyes that warned people he was a formidable opponent. Joshua had started out dirt poor, but by his own crafty intelligence and sheer determination he’d built a fortune. He wouldn’t be inclined to dismiss charges against someone who’d been stealing from him. In Brett, he’d met his match in willpower, and now they were going to do some hard dealing.
“Let’s negotiate,” Brett said evenly.
At the tone of Brett’s voice, Joshua lifted one gray eyebrow, his blue eyes growing cautious. “Negotiate? This sounds serious. Is some head-hunter stealing you away?”
“No. It’s the case in Los Angeles.”
“The woman you caught embezzling? What about her?”
“I want to make a deal with her.”
“What sort of deal?” Joshua blazed.
“All charges dropped in exchange for full restitution.”
Joshua got to his feet and braced his hands on his desk. He drew a deep breath. “There’s no way in hell.”
Brett sipped the coffee. That was exactly the response he’d expected. “I don’t want her in prison,” he said coolly.
If there was anything Joshua was, it was shrewd. He looked at Brett for a long, hard minute before he snorted. “But you do want her in your bed, don’t you?”
“Exactly.”
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Joshua muttered. “I think I need some coffee, too.” As the older man crossed the room, Brett poured another cup of coffee and set it on the bar. Joshua sat down on one of the stools and picked up the coffee. “I’m not inclined to let her off with a slap on the wrist. How much is missing? Fifty thousand?”
“Fifty-four.”
“What did she take it for? Jewelry? A fancy vacation?”
Brett shrugged. He hadn’t seen any evidence that she’d spent the money on anything. She dressed well, but not fifty-four thousand dollars worth. “You’ll be paid back.”
“She still has the money?”
“I don’t know. If she doesn’t have it, I’ll pay you back.”
The gray brows drew together. “Brett, that’s an expensive woman you’re playing with.”
“I’m not playing,” Brett said laconically.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” For the first time, a faintly helpless note entered Joshua’s voice. He was genuinely fond of Brett, a man made in his own mold, someone who let nothing interfere with getting the job done…or at least, nothing until this woman. “She must be something.”
“She’s special. The L.A. office is practically in revolt against me for arresting her. Evan’s been dragging around like a whipped hound.” Brett pushed his fingers through his tawny hair. “And I’m worse than all of them put together,” he admitted raggedly.
“Tell me something. Why should I agree to drop charges against her? Why shouldn’t she pay for breaking the law?”
“She has paid.” Brett’s fingers tightened on the cup of coffee as he remembered her white face. It had been a week since he’d seen her, and he was aching to touch her, to whisper to her that everything was going to be all right, that he’d take care of her.
“You’re going to marry her? What if she doesn’t want to marry you? I don’t imagine you’re her favorite person, right now,” Joshua pointed out.
Brett knew that, but he hadn’t let himself think about it. He’d handle that when the time came, after she was no longer in danger of losing her freedom. When he had the charges against her dropped, when she was safe, then he’d deal with her anger. He still had his own anger to work out, and it would probably be a stormy few days before they got everything settled between them, but he wasn’t going to let her slip away from him.
?
??She’ll marry me,” he said grimly. Then he looked at Joshua, his navy eyes piercing. He might be cutting his own throat by telling Joshua what he was about to say, but he wasn’t going to lie to the man. He’d always been aboveboard in his dealings with Joshua, and he wasn’t going to change now. “No matter what your decision, I want you to know that I’ll be quitting soon. I’m going back to the ranch…and I want to take Tessa with me.”
“That’s not a smart thing to tell me,” Joshua snapped.
“It was honest,” Brett snapped back. He’d never toadied to Joshua, which was one of the reasons Joshua prized him. No matter how black the situation or unpleasant the news, he’d always gotten the truth from Brett.
“This woman…Tessa…is she the reason you’re quitting?”
“She’s only half of it. I’ve been getting restless, wanting to go back to the ranch. Ranching is what I do best, what I’m most content doing.”
“You’re damned good at what you’re doing now.”
“I’m damned good at ranching, too.”
Joshua rubbed his jaw, eyeing Brett. He was shrewd enough to realize that the only thing he could do now was make a deal with Brett, which was exactly what Brett had intended all along. He could either deal, or lose Brett entirely. “Why should I drop those charges, when I’ll be losing you either way?”
Brett’s eyes gleamed. “Negotiate,” he said.
Joshua burst out laughing. “Negotiate, hell! You’ve been herding me to the exact point you’ve wanted me at from the minute you walked into this office. I can either cooperate with you, or you’re quitting completely, whereas if I drop charges against your woman, your…special consultation services…will be available to me—how often?”
“We can work something out,” Brett said smoothly.
Sighing, Joshua held out his hand. “Deal,” he said, and Brett shook his hand, while relief unknotted the coil of tension in his belly.
* * *
THE PHONE RANG, and Tessa paused only fractionally before she turned off the television, which she’d been staring at without realizing what she was watching, and rose to answer the phone. Over the past several days she’d answered calls from Silver and Sammy, while Billie usually came over instead of calling, but still she couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine each time she heard a bell peal. Sammy hadn’t had any luck, either in finding the account name or any other sort of information that would aid him in a computer search. They were at a dead end, and time was running short on her. The grand jury would meet next week.
The insistent ring reminded her of the phone, and she shook herself to dispel the cold mantle of dread that had settled on her shoulders. She lifted the receiver, expecting to hear Silver’s voice again. It was almost ten o’clock in Tennessee, and Silver would be getting ready for bed, but she always called Tessa before turning in for the night.
“Hello.”
“Tessa. This is Brett.”
She jumped as if she’d been strung, and jerked the receiver away from her ear. She hadn’t needed him to tell her who he was. She’d never forget that voice, so low and raspy. Whimpering, gasping for breath, she slammed the receiver onto the cradle before she could hear anything else. Oh, God, oh, God, why had he called now? She’d had everything under control, she hadn’t broken down once, but the simple sound of his voice had shattered her fragile defenses. A high, keening sound assaulted her ears as her knees stiffened, then gave way beneath her. Curling into a tight little ball on the floor, Tessa began to weep. The phone was ringing again, but there was no way she could have answered it, even if she had dared.
All the pain of betrayal, of love offered and scorned, burst out of her in great, tearing sobs that shook her entire body and felt as if they were rupturing her chest, shredding her throat. She would have screamed with the pain of it if she’d been able to draw enough breath, but all she could do was huddle on the floor.
She cried until she thought she couldn’t cry any more, until her throat was raw and burning, the tissues swollen from strain, but still the tears ran down her face. At last she managed to stumble to her feet, and she made her way to the bathroom, bent over like someone old, her hand against the wall for support. There she splashed cold water on her face, gasping at the shock of it, but the sudden coldness gave her back a measure of control. She hung over the sink, shuddering with the effort she was making to stop crying, but at last she managed it and slowly straightened. Her reflection in the mirror made her gasp again; her face was red and splotchy, her eyes swollen almost together from the violent siege of weeping that she’d endured. Staring at her face, at the haunted emptiness of her eyes, she wondered if she’d ever be able to forget about him, if she’d ever stop feeling the pain of knowing that he’d never loved her at all.
She drank some water, and almost choked as the liquid ran down her raw, abused throat. Why had he called? To gloat? Hadn’t be beaten her down enough?
The telephone was ringing again. Desperately Tessa ran into the living room and unplugged it, but the sudden silence was almost as unnerving as the noise had been. She chewed her lip. Perhaps that had been Silver, or Sammy, but it didn’t matter. She simply couldn’t take the chance that Brett might be calling again. She couldn’t bear it; she just couldn’t take any more.
That night too was sleepless, and endless. The strain of it was in her face the next morning. The swelling had subsided, but she was colorless, and dark shadows lay under her eyes. The first thing she had to do was call Silver and reassure her that everything was all right, even though Tessa felt as if nothing would ever be right again. She plugged in the telephone and punched in the numbers, but when Silver answered the phone on the first ring, as if she’d been waiting anxiously, Tessa found that she couldn’t say anything.
“Hello? Hello?” Silver said frantically.
With an effort, Tessa cleared her throat, wincing at the raw pain. “Aunt Silver,” she croaked.
“Tessa? Is that you? What’s wrong?”
Once again Tessa tried to speak, but no sound came out. Swallowing again, she managed, “Sore throat.”
“Oh, my goodness, honey, I guess so! Have you been to a doctor? There wasn’t any answer last night, and I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. When did you get sick?”
“Last night.” Each word came a little easier, but her voice was totally alien to her, as hoarse as a frog’s and only a little more intelligible. It would only worry Silver to tell her what had happened, so Tessa let her think that she’d come down with something that affected her throat. As a child she’d been prone to sore throats and bouts of laryngitis anyway, so Silver wouldn’t think this was unusual.
“Well, take care of yourself, hear? I won’t call you while you can’t talk, honey, so you call me when you’re better. And if you haven’t been to a doctor, go to one today. Promise me, now.”
Tessa croaked a sound that Silver took for a promise. They hung up, and she promptly unplugged the telephone again. At this rate, she was going to wear the little plastic plug out within a month. If it really mattered, she thought, stricken by the realization that unless Sammy could work a miracle, she wouldn’t be needing a telephone for a long time. She should probably have it taken out anyway, to save as much money as she could.
Forcing herself to move, she showered and washed her hair, lingering in the steamy warmth in an effort to soothe her throat until the hot water began to go. Too listless to fool with her hair, she simply towel-dried it and combed it out, to let it finish drying in a straight mass on her shoulders. When she was dressed she poured orange juice over ice and drank that for her breakfast, hoping that the cold would alleviate the swelling in her throat, since the steam in the bathroom hadn’t helped any.
It was late in the morning when someone rang her doorbell, then began pounding on the door. Tessa froze, tears stinging her eyes again. There was no way she was going to answer that door.
“Miss Conway! Are you in there? This is Calvin Stine. I need to talk to you
immediately.”
Her brow knit. Why did he sound so urgent? What had happened? Did this have something to do with Brett calling the night before? She hurried to the door, fumbling with the lock and the safety chain until she could remove them and swing the door open. Calvin Stine stepped inside, smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his dark brows lowered over his cool, piercing gray eyes.
She closed the door and faced him, her hands clasped together in front of her, her pale face anxious. Her eyes questioned him.
“Please get dressed, as swiftly as you can,” he instructed. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning, but your phone is evidently out of order. The assistant district attorney has called us to a meeting in his office in an hour and a half.”
She stood very still, feeling like a small, hunted animal. “Please hurry,” he said irritably. “The traffic is a mess this morning. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there. By the way, have you reported your phone?”
Tessa shook her head, and moved slowly over to the telephone. Lifting the cord, she showed him that it was unplugged. If he’d been irritated before, he was downright aggravated now.
“That wasn’t very smart, Miss Conway. It would’ve saved me a trip over here if I could have talked to you on the phone.”
Silently she went into her bedroom and closed the door. She dressed mechanically in a white linen suit with a pencil-slim skirt and a short, smart jacket. Perhaps white wasn’t the wisest choice, given her own pallor, but she didn’t feel capable of the extra effort that changing would require. After slapping on her makeup, she viewed the garish effort in the mirror and seized a tissue to wipe most of it off. She was too pale to look like anything other than a painted clown if she wore the full routine. Her hair was still damp, and lack of time prevented her from doing anything to it, so she twisted it into a knot and pinned it on top of her head. Twenty minutes after she’d walked into the bedroom, she walked out again, her face expressionless, her purse tucked under her arm. No matter what was going on, she wasn’t going to break down again. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. At that point in her thoughts, “them” was everyone except Silver, Billie and Sammy, and that included her own lawyer.