Captive Kisses (Sweetly Contemporary Collection) (21 page)

“For a payoff that would come in less than two weeks.”

He shook his head. “I know you mentioned the possibility at
first, but I thought surely you had rid yourself of the notion by now. Once I
even as much as told you it was untrue.”

“You can’t deny you encouraged me to believe it that first
evening. Later you set me a riddle; I could think the best or the worst of you.
But that isn’t the same as a plain statement of fact.”

“And the way he was housed without restraints, cosseted with
television, ice cream, meals on trays; didn’t that suggest anything?” His black
eyes held hers, their expression demanding.

She gave a small shake of her head. “Not compared to what I
had heard.”

“My God, Kelly, do I look like a kidnapper?”

“Whether you looked like one or not, you certainly acted the
part where I was concerned,” she said, her tones becoming heated. “You wouldn’t
let me talk to him. You forced me to stay here after you knew I had seen him.
You wouldn’t tell me who you were, or what you were up to; what did you expect?”

“I expected you to believe what I told you, that you were
safe, that what I was doing was for your own good, and that you would be free
as soon as possible!”

“And I was supposed to take your word, just like that,
without explanation or knowing the first thing about you? Doesn’t that strike
you as being a little high-handed?”

“At least you left me in no doubt that it struck you that
way,” he said grimly, then held up his hand as she started to answer. “No,
wait, let me think this through. It changes the whole problem.”

The minutes ticked past. Kelly tried to conceal the faint
trembling of her hands by holding on to her coffee cup. She glanced at Charles,
at the frown that drew his brows together. Her heart seemed to contract in her
chest, and she looked away once more.

He drained his coffee cup and set it on the table before he
turned to her. “All right. Let’s take this from the beginning. You know who my
father was?”

“A friend of Judge Kavanaugh?”

“Yes, and also of the senator, though that’s not what I am
getting at. He was a politician, of sorts. At one time he ran for office and
was elected as representative of his district. Once in the state capital at
Baton Rouge, however, he found his sphere of influence limited. Too, he ran
into the public’s attitude toward elected officials as all of them being in it
for what they can get.”

“I see,” Kelly murmured. That explained the reference George
had made that morning to the time when old man Duralde, Charles’s father, had
been in Baton Rouge, and of the railroad spur and post office that had a part
of the operation, whatever that was, at the time.

“When his term ended, he refused to run for reelection, but
still maintained a certain influence behind the scenes. He was — not a poor
man, and he had a strong sense of fair play. He made it his business for quite
a few years to see to it that the political machine in his section of the state
kept its nose clean. After thirty or forty years, he knew most of the people in
public office, knew their strengths and weaknesses and backgrounds, knew who
was suited for what post, and who wasn’t.”

“A king-maker.”

“Not exactly, since he had nothing personal to gain, but I
suppose that description comes as close as anything.”

“That’s interesting, of course, but I don’t see what it has
to do with the senator and why he is here.”

“I’m coming to that. Senator Landry is in a position a great
deal like that of my father, except that he never ran in a public campaign. He
was once appointed to fill the unexpired term of a senator who died in office,
however. He declined to try for a full term, but he enjoys the honorary title
and he likes to stay involved in the political game.”

“A pair of king-makers.”

“If you like, though their interference in the democratic
process was limited to supporting the man they felt to be best qualified for
the job and lining up other support, helping arrange financing, planning strategy.
There was nothing underhanded or illegal about it, just a nice, clean fight
decided by the voters. Until the last two election campaigns.”

Was this the reason he had been interested in her opinion on
the subjects of money and politics? She could not see what difference it made
what she thought. Perhaps it had been an idle question, an attempt to find some
common ground between them for conversation, and nothing more? It did not
follow that because he had asked what she thought, he had a personal interest
in her answer. Realizing, suddenly, that her mind was wandering, she tried to
pick up the thread of what he had been saying.

“I read something about the elections scandals in that area
during the last campaign.”

He nodded, the look in his eyes somber. “My father suspected
from the first that organized crime was behind it. He and the senator set out
to prove it, and to expose the fraud. They succeeded. The whole thing was blown
wide open; corruption, vote buying, illegal contributions, the underworld connection,
the whole dirty deal. The media got wind of it and put a bright light on the
operation. People were arrested and brought before the grand jury where they
were indicted and bound over for trial. My father and the senator were called
as witnesses.”

Kelly stared at him with horror in her eyes as she
recognized the trend of his story. “And then your father was killed in an
accident.”

“Only it wasn’t an accident. His car was deliberately forced
off the road and into a canal. An attempt was made on the life of the senator,
but he was luckier. After that, he was given police protection. The officer
guarding him nearly let a sniper make good at his second attempt. There was
some doubt as to how hard he had tried to provide protection, and the question
arose of a possible bribe being passed. It became clear that something had to
be done. I had a special interest in seeing that the men behind the death of my
father were brought to justice. More than that, Landry was my father’s friend;
I had known him all my life. I thought of the judge, and this place, and so we
came here.”

It made beautiful sense, once you knew, though there were
still a number of things she didn’t understand. “How does the payoff come into
it?” she asked, her brows drawn together as she stared at him. “I’m sure I didn’t
make that up.”

“If memory serves me right, I was talking about a payoff not
in money, but in justice that would come as soon as the case went to trial.
That would be after this week, on Monday when court reconvenes for the fall, or
at least when the evidence that the senator has to present is given, in two
weeks at the most.”

Her gray eyes were still troubled as she tilted her head to
one side. “I don’t mean to sound like a lawyer, but isn’t it a little unusual
for a judge to try a case where he has given shelter to a witness for the
prosecution?”

“You mean Judge Kavanaugh? The case will be tried out of his
district. His only connection with it has been his interest in seeing my father’s
killers brought to justice, and the loan of his house for a place of
safekeeping. He was more than a little concerned when he heard that you were
mixed up in the business. It was all I could do to keep him from flying home to
talk to you. He sent instructions that I should tell you the truth and rely on
your good sense, but George had neglected to explain to him just how angry I
had made you. I wasn’t too sure that seeing me in trouble wouldn’t have suited
you just fine.”

“You don’t really think that?” There was a distressed look
on her face as she stared at him.

“Maybe not, though I wouldn’t have given two cents for my
chances after that episode when we went fishing.”

She looked down at her empty cup, rolling it back and forth
in her hands. “I can see how my arriving on the scene might have been an
inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience? That’s a gross understatement. We had been
here a week with absolutely no problems, everything placid and peaceful as
anybody could wish, and then you came. When I found you climbing in that
window, I saw red. It seemed just barely possible that whoever was after the
senator had connected his disappearance with me. If they had tracked me down,
it was likely they would send somebody to check out the place. Women are taking
their place in the ranks of crime these days, as in everything else. Why not an
attractive girl as a plant, a member of the mob? It almost seemed more
plausible than that story you gave me. I couldn’t believe Judge Kavanaugh
wouldn’t have seen to it that we would be left undisturbed. I hadn’t counted on
his gentlemanly protection of his wife and daughter by keeping them in the
dark.”

“I don’t see why not. Wasn’t that part of the reason why you
didn’t see fit to tell me what was going on? So the men who were after the
senator, if they overran the place, could be told I didn’t know a thing about
it, as if that were going to make any difference.”

“I suppose you could look at it like that,” he said stiffly.

“On the other hand, you kept me here because you thought
that if you let me go I would run all over the country talking to one and all
about the man I saw hiding here. Just as the judge probably thought Mary and
his wife wouldn’t be able to keep the secret, if the truth were known. You men
are all alike, keeping women in ignorance to protect them, when all you are
doing is leaving yourselves, and us, open to danger because of what we don’t
know!”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying that if I had told you
everything you would have stayed on here and, shall we say, added to the local
color?”

“I might have,” she admitted. “At least I would have done a
better job of pretending to be your — your special friend than you managed to
convey without my cooperation!”

“I don’t know about that; I thought we did well enough.”

She ignored that, as well as the smile that went with his
amused comment. “While I’m on the subject, you can tell me just what the idea
was of saying last night that I could leave today, when all the time you knew
those gunmen were sneaking up on the house.”

“I didn’t know; I only suspected after the odd behavior of
the boat we saw the evening before. I’m not sure how they located us, unless it
was as I said, that they made the connection between me and the senator, then
maybe had a tip about George from one of his trips with the speedboat.
Yesterday afternoon, when the three of us were in conference, we decided it was
time to move; the only question was where. The senator wanted to go home.
George was for a hotel in New Orleans. I took a lot of ribbing for proposing we
commandeer your apartment. We couldn’t agree, so we put it off until morning.”

“And in the meantime, you set yourself, and me, up as
decoys, creating a diversion while the police moved in.”

“It was doubtful which was more dangerous, staying put, or
trying to move when we suspected strongly that our cover had been blown.
Calling in reinforcements seemed wisest. As for setting you up, would you have
gone to your room and stayed there if I had asked you?”

“If there was a good reason.”

“You’ll have to admit, at least, that you had done nothing
up till then to make me think you might. That being the case, I preferred to
keep you with me.”

“So you could watch me.”

“So I could watch over you; there’s a difference. I sent
George for the police early enough so they could get in place before trouble
started. I thought you would be safe enough as long as you remained inside. I
certainly didn’t expect you to leave the house.”

She would just as soon not go into her reason for doing
that. “I suppose you are going to say that what I ran into was my own fault,
then?”

“I wouldn’t be so ungallant.”

“Wouldn’t you?” she inquired in bitter disbelief. “And I
guess you blame me for all those trips George made in the speedboat, trying to
find out who I was.”

“No. It wasn’t a good idea to let him use the speedboat.
Neither it, nor George for that matter, blend in with a place like this.”

That was a concession. She made a small grimace. “I thought
he was a guard.”

“He was a federal agent at one time, before he became my
father’s chauffeur. He asked to come with me to help look after the senator
here because he blames himself, at least in part, for my father’s death. It was
George’s night off, the evening he was killed. Dad hadn’t planned to go out,
but he had a call, bogus of course, and he went, alone.”

“Was he at the farm, or whatever it is, above New Orleans?”

There was a shading of self-blame in Charles’s voice also,
she thought

“The plantation? Yes, he was spending a few days there. I
had gone into the city for the evening. Calls in the night aren’t too unusual
with the kind of agricultural-industrial complex we keep going, but if I had
been there, I would have taken the call.”

“Whoever killed him must have known you weren’t there.”

He reached up to rake his fingers through his hair, letting
out his breath in a long sigh. “I guess so.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at the coffee cup she
still turned in her hands. “I really am, for 1everything.”

“If you mean about my father’s death, I’ll accept that. As
for the rest, don’t be. I’m not.”

In a denial of the compassion that sought to weaken her
defenses, she allowed a glint of anger to creep into her gray eyes. “Well, you
should be! When I think of the things you did, it makes me want to — scream.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Something in his voice made her aware, abruptly, of the fact
that they were alone in the house, and that this was a man she had not known
existed only a week before. Moreover, there he sat on her bed, watching her as
if he had a perfect right to be in her bedroom. It was also a matter for concern
that although she was disturbed by the sheer masculinity of his presence, she
wasn’t particularly embarrassed by it. Considering how she would have reacted
not too long ago, that was shocking if not too surprising after what had passed
between them.