Authors: Doreen Owens Malek
“Angela, I’m awfully sorry about the way things turned out with him,” Holly said quietly.
“I know you are.”
“He really did seem to care about you.”
“Yes, I know. He’s a very good actor. They trained him quite well.”
“Are you still in love with him?”
Angela didn’t answer for a moment, and then said, “I wish I weren’t. You would think that all this would have killed it, but even knowing what he was, what he’d done, I had to force myself to tell him to leave. Then I had to force myself not to beg him to stay.”
“Love doesn’t stop that easily,” Holly said sympathetically.
“He’s the only one for me, Holly. I’ll never feel that way again about anybody else. I’ll love him forever.” She bit her lip, forestalling tears. “And look who I picked!” She put her fist against her mouth.
Holly got up and sat on the arm of Angela’s chair, putting her hands on Angela’s shoulders. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” she said comfortingly.
Angela shook her head. “It’s not all right. My life is a rotten mess.” She turned to look up into Holly’s face. “I feel like such a fool.”
“You’re not a fool. Any woman in your position would have fallen in love with him, being with him every day, sharing his life the way you did. After all, the man can melt any female within ten feet with a glance. You’re only human, Angela.”
“That’s why they sent him,” Angela replied. “They knew he would be able to wrap me around his finger, that I would believe anything he said.”
Holly stood up. “I wouldn’t go that far. They probably sent him because he’s good at his job. I doubt if the government thinks in terms of susceptible females.”
“Devlin did. He saw me and said, ‘Here’s a ripe one. A few kisses and I’ll have her eating out of my hand. All the better for my nasty little plan.’”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Angela. It’s over.”
“I hit him,” Angela said, almost to herself.
“What?”
“I threw my drink in his face and then I hit him. I hit him so hard, he had the marks of my fingers on his face.” She drew a quavering breath. “I never thought I could hit anyone.”
“I might have done more,” Holly said tightly. She leaned against the fireplace mantel, warming her legs. “What will happen to your uncle now?”
Angela shrugged. “The government authorities will arrest him if he tries to come home, and they’ll extradite him for trial if he doesn’t. Either way, they’ll get him. He’ll be bound over for trial and his assets will probably be frozen, too. He won’t even be able to make bail.” She smiled grimly. “If the rest of Devlin’s colleagues are as efficient as he is, they’ll have Uncle Frank tied up in knots before he knows what hit him.”
“Do you think bail will be refused?”
“Anything’s possible.”
“Does this mean you’ll have no money either?” Holly asked worriedly.
“I have enough of my own to last for a while, at least to let me finish school. Then I can get a job. I planned on getting one anyway.” She looked down. “At least that’s one of my plans that might not fall through with a resounding crash.”
The telephone rang.
“I’ll answer it,” Holly said. “It’s probably Chris. I left him a note with a ham sandwich, telling him where I was going. Now he probably wants to know where the mustard is.”
Angela hardly listened to the conversation; her mind was on other things. But she did notice that Holly had a strange look on her face when she returned.
“What is it? Wasn’t that Chris?”
“It was Chris. He wanted to tell me that a man named Devlin called, asking for me.”
Angela stiffened, sitting up straighter.
“He left a message. He wanted me to come over here and look after you because he thought you would be upset. That was all he said.”
Angela didn’t say anything.
“Angela,” Holly said gently, “that is not the action of a heartless opportunist who used you and then walked away without a backward glance.”
“So he’s feeling guilty. What does that prove? He should feel guilty.”
Holly bit back the conciliating words she wanted to say. In this mood Angela wouldn’t listen. She needed a friend now, not a lecturing parent.
“What are you going to do?” Holly asked, picking up the poker and stirring the fire to new life.
“I don’t know. Go to school, I guess. Do what I did before Brett. I can’t help Uncle Frank. No one can, except a new lawyer. Simmons has his own problems.”
“Did you have any dinner?”
Angela’s stomach revolted at the thought. “No.”
“Okay. Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll make something light.”
“I couldn’t eat, Holly. Really.”
“Well I can. Come and keep me company.”
Angela rose reluctantly and followed her friend out of the room.
* * * *
Frank Patria was arrested three days later at the Port of New York. He knew what was coming; Angela had talked to him and he’d been informed that there was a warrant out for his arrest. He surrendered peacefully, maintaining his innocence.
After that the papers were full of his story. Pictures of Frank and Angela looked out from all the tabloids, and even the Times gave front page space to an article describing Frank’s past dealings and the current charges against him. It was there Angela learned that the police had been tipped off about a large shipment of drugs that was supposedly arriving with the latest load of her uncle’s antiques. When no drugs were to be found in the shipment, it caused a great deal of consternation to the underworld and the police alike. The missing cache was linked to Patria’s recent arrest and the speculation was that Patria had secreted it away for future use.
Angela had thrown the paper on the floor in disgust. Then she’d disconnected the phone to elude the nosy reporters and stopped watching television to avoid seeing Frank’s face. It became impossible for her to attend classes. She had gotten permission from the dean to delay her exams. This was not usually done, but in her case the postponement was granted without argument. Even the academics could relate to her dreadful situation.
Angela briefly considered leaving town for a while, going away somewhere, but then decided against it. This would all blow over sooner or later and in the meantime she would just stay in the house and ride out the storm.
This decision began to look like a bad one the longer she remained cooped up on Sixty-Fourth Street. Josie came and went, and Holly visited regularly, but Angela felt like a hermit, an outcast. When the doorbell rang one night a week after Frank Patria was indicted she didn’t even look out to see if it was a member of the press. Josie had gone home so she yanked open the door herself, ready for anything.
Except Philip Cronin, who was standing on the steps.
“Are you here to say ‘I told you so’?” she asked wearily.
“No.”
“In that case, come in.” She stood aside to let him pass.
Philip walked into the living room and waited for Angela, sharing a love seat with her when she sat. He looked wonderful as usual, which did not improve Angela’s day. She felt like bad news and was sure she looked the same.
“How have you been?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Tolerable, under the circumstances.”
“What do you think of all this?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to think. At first I was sure it wasn’t true, but they denied my uncle bail, you know. They must think they have a very strong case.”
Philip nodded.
“Philip, you’ve worked for him for three years. Do you think it’s possible that he was smuggling drugs as a sideline, like the papers say?”
“If he was I knew nothing about it.”
“I’m sure if you did you’d be cooling your heels in the same lockup with him.”
Philip smiled thinly.
“It looks bad for him. I know it does. But looks can be deceiving.”
Philip didn’t answer, but she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Philip wasn’t sure what Frank had been up to before his arrest.
“He couldn’t have been doing it, could he?” she prodded.
“All I can tell you is that with the shipping and air setup that he had it would have been feasible, but that doesn’t mean he was smuggling anything. I know that I ran a legitimate operation, but your uncle was also into a lot of things that I knew nothing about.”
“What have you been doing since this broke?” she asked him.
“Nothing. It’s all on hold for now. All operations are shut down, the warehouse and offices are crawling with narcs, cops, feds, everybody on the green earth.” He turned to face her more squarely. “I’ve seen Devlin,” he said.
Angela got up. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“He’s a big man with that government outfit,” Philip went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “When he shouts an order they all scurry like mice.”
“I’m sure they do,” she replied bitterly. “He brought in a very large fish this time, with the help of yours truly.”
“Well, the people there treat him like he’s running the show,” Philip stated with a new note of respect in his voice.
“And is he gloating over his triumph?”
“Didn’t look like it to me. He seems very subdued.”
“He’s always subdued.”
“Not like this. He’s not a happy man, Angela.”
Angela looked at him, astonished. “Why do you care whether he’s happy or not? You’re talking about the man who punched you in the mouth not too long ago.”
“I know that, but he did something that surprised me and altered my opinion of him somewhat. He came to me and asked me to check up on you. He said that he knew he was
persona non grata
around here, but he felt you would see me, and he wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Angela met Philip’s eyes slowly.
“That can’t have been easy for him, Angela,” Philip said quietly. “He had to swallow his pride and ask me to do him a favor when he knows there’s no love lost between us. But he did it, for you.”
“He did it to salve his conscience.”
“No, he did it because he loves you.”
Angela shook her head in wonder. “Everybody I know has gone completely and totally insane. You are now going to champion Devlin’s cause?” Then another thought surfaced. “Did he put you up to this?” she asked suspiciously.
“No, no, if he heard this conversation I’m sure I’d be on the receiving end of another punch. But I’ve been thinking about his behavior the night of the party. The way he reacted when he saw me kissing you wasn’t necessary to his grand plan or to any scheme for getting your uncle. He wanted to kill me when he saw me with you because he was jealous. And he was jealous because he wanted you for himself.”
“Phillip, he came into this house under false pretenses to manufacture a case against my closest relative, a case that I still think is more fiction than fact. I can’t forget that.”
Philip nodded thoughtfully. “To be so disappointed in someone you care about is a very bitter thing.”
“I guess you know as much about that as I do. I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Philip. I wasn’t fair but I also wasn’t in love with you.”
“And you’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I am or not. I’m not going to see him again.”
Philip shook his head slowly from side to side. “Oh, Angela. As stubborn as ever. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”
“That’s trite, Philip.”
He grinned. “You’re right. I didn’t come here to pick a fight. I came to make peace and offer a truce. If you can forget my stormy final exit, I can forget that you threw me over for the dark and dashing Mr. Devlin.”
Angela had to smile. She extended her hand and he shook it.
“I can always use a friend,” she said.
“Good.” He moved to go, and then turned back to look at her.
“I’ll probably see him again, Angela. His crew is always around these days. Can I tell him anything for you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Not a word?”
“Not a word.”
Philip sighed. “All right. But I kind of feel for him, you know; losing you is a tough one.”
Angela silently marveled at the force of Devlin’s personality. He could even win his former enemies to his side. She walked Philip to the door and let him out, wondering if it was possible to forget a man who was capable of such persuasion. She was certainly going to try.
* * * *
Ten days later the doorbell rang in the afternoon, about four, and Josie went to answer it.
Brett Devlin was on the other side of the door.
Chapter 9
“Are you speaking to me?” Devlin asked the housekeeper.
“Should I be?”
“I don’t know, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.”
“So I see.”
“May I come in?”
Josie glanced back at the stairs. Angela was nowhere in sight; she must not have heard the bell.