Perilous Pleasures (26 page)

Stefan turned. The face of the handler looked strained with worry. "Mr. Janacek," he called out, "two men from the American Humane Association are in the menagerie tent and they claim they're impounding Rafat."

"What are you talking about?" Stefan said, walking over to meet the man. "They have no right to impound any of my animals without cause."

The handler glanced over his shoulder toward the menagerie. "They claim Rafat's been mistreated, that they have evidence. And they're getting ready to take him. No one's mistreated that cat, Mr. Janacek, I swear it."

Stefan saw that Tony was busy directing the handlers in connecting the chute. "Come on," he said to Walter. "I may need your input. But let's hurry. We have less than fifteen minutes before I'm on." He pushed his way through the crowd choking the passageway, elbowing jugglers, dodging attendants gathered in the performers' entrance. With Walter close behind, he raced to the menagerie. When he stepped between the wide canvas flaps covering the entrance, he froze, eyes locked on Klaus Haufchild's steely gaze. Moving to stand between Haufchild and Rafat's cage, he said, "No one's impounding this cat without a damn good reason."

Haufchild raised the iron-hooked stump of his arm and said, "We have reason." He motioned to a man standing behind him and moved aside for the man to come forward.

"Mr. Janacek, my name is George Robinson and I'm with the American Humane Association," the man said, holding out his identification badge. "We have evidence that this lion has been repeatedly mistreated." He removed a folded paper from his inside pocket and handed it to Stefan. "This is a court order for impoundment of the animal."

Stefan took the document, wondering what Klaus Haufchild's part was in this. Was it he who notified the authorities with trumped-up evidence? Publicity about animal cruelty could terminate an act. "I don't mistreat my animals," he assured George Robinson. "Mr. Haufchild should know that. He's responsible for most of my training." Stefan shot Haufchild a quizzical glance. Obviously this was a vindictive act on Haufchild's part to get revenge for the accident that ended his career. "I don't know what evidence you have," Stefan said, studying the court order, "but I assure you, my animals are not mistreated. In two days they'll be roaming free in an eighty-acre habitat with forty thousand dollars worth of custom-designed animal pens."

"This has nothing to do with your winter quarters," Robinson said. "This has to do with what happens on the show grounds. We have photographic evidence that this lion has been repeatedly mistreated." He handed several photographs to Stefan. "This photograph was taken in Natchez. This one in Vicksburg. And we have reason to believe the animal has been harassed in other ways."

Stefan looked at the photos. His heart quickened. "Tony Bernardo?" he said, staring in disbelief at the photograph of Tony shoving a pointed metal rod through the bars and prodding Rafat. "This is my assistant trainer."
 
He brushed through the rest of the pictures. In another photograph, Rafat raised his paw to ward off a pitchfork. "This explains Rafat's behavior. And the cut rope... a deliberate attempt to get me out of the ring so Tony could take my place."

The sound of the band burst through the big top, the lively march signaling the end of intermission. Stefan looked with contempt toward the pavilion where Tony would be preparing for their final performance. He turned to Walter. "I want Bernardo detained," he said. "Alert security. And don't let on to Tony. He might try to run. Then notify the police. I'm filing charges against Tony for attempted murder."

Walter looked at Stefan in alarm. "You can't go on without an assistant."

Stefan's mouth tipped up in a cynical smile. "It appears that's exactly what I've been doing all season," he said. "We'll hold out Shani and cut the act short."
 
He turned to George Robinson. "Look, I've got a performance right now, but I'll be back here right after. Take the cat if you need to, but I don't advise it. He can be vicious."

George Robinson looked at Rafat, who paced restlessly inside his cage. "We'll talk after your performance," he assured Stefan.

"Better keep the spectators away too," Stefan said. Taking a last curious look at Klaus Haufchild, he marched toward the exhibition pavilion.

A few minutes later, while he stood in the performers' entrance, Stefan watched two security guards approach Tony. Each burly man gripped one of Tony's arms and quietly escorted him away. Surprise on his face, Tony looked from one guard to the other, then caught Stefan's eyes as the guards ushered him past. Stefan looked at Tony with disdain, then he stepped to the front of the big cage, prepared to enter. As he stood waiting, he saw Joanna standing in the shadows of the performer's exit. She'd changed from her costume into what appeared to be a traveling dress, and she wore a wide-brimmed hat and a rain cape. She clearly was not planning to take part in the final parade.

He couldn't just let her go... Maybe there was still some way... There had to be a way... They'd talk right after his performance...

A fanfare announced his act. Lights swept across the big cage, coming to rest on the performers' entrance, and the ringmaster's voice blared through the megaphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, the king of the gypsies..."

Joanna edged forward and watched as Stefan walked into the light, hand raised to acknowledge the cheering crowd. He stepped into the enclosed arena and stood waiting for the lions to enter. She saw the sheen of perspiration on his muscular chest, the intensity in his eyes. He was incredibly handsome in his Gypsy costume—the
 
bright-colored hussar vest, the form-fitting trousers, the tall black boots. She looked at the strong hand gripping the whip and remembered how gentle that hand could be. Standing in the crowd and watching him, she felt more solitary, more isolated than if she were alone...

"Seats!"
 
Stefan said in a deep voice as five lions scurried to find their pedestals. That done, four tigers moved into the arena, stealing in a wide arc around the lions as they crept to find their places. Tails flicked nervously. Ears laid back with impatience. Low guttural snarls rumbled from the twisted face of a lioness.

Joanna spotted Walter standing a short distance away, a pistol resting in a holster at his hip. Weaving through the mass of people, she moved to stand beside him. "Where is Rafat?" she asked, relieved that the big lion was not among the cats in the arena.

Walter turned to acknowledge her. "He's being held by the humane association."

Joanna stared at Walter. "Why?"

Walter's gaze moved anxiously to the activity inside the cage. "We just found out that Tony Bernardo was behind everything... prodding Rafat and probably Shani too. It's fairly certain he was the one who cut the rope."

"Tony?" Joanna said incredulously. "How did you find out?"

"It's pretty ironic," Walter said. "Klaus Haufchild is trying to pin Stefan with animal cruelty to end his career. He has apparently been following the performances, looking for anything he could use against Stefan for bad publicity. And while he was spying on Stefan, he took photos of Tony prodding Rafat. What's so ironic is that Klaus Haufchild may have saved Stefan's life. As for Tony, it's a devil of a way to get to the top--maim a trainer and move up." Walter arched a dark brow. "The bad part is that the sort of thing Tony did can go undetected until it's too late."

Joanna's eyes narrowed as she visualized Tony's face, not unlike many faces she'd seen during the six years she'd been with shows. Ambitious, cunning faces that reflected lethal intent.

"I know that when I leave here tonight, I'll never look back with regret," she said with confidence. Then she remembered Walter's accusation a few weeks before, when he suspected Gene of doing the very thing Tony was accused of doing. She felt a sense of relief, knowing that Gene wasn't behind it. She only hoped his ambition wouldn't drive him to the point that Tony's had. Malevolent ambition, she realized with careworn anxiety, is cancerous. It can grow and destroy, just as Tony's ambition was meant to destroy Stefan.

"Tekla was right," Walter said. "She always did have bad feelings about Tony."

Joanna remembered her own dream about Tony. Had it been a prophetic warning? But she'd almost forgotten about Tekla Janacek's latest dream, her prediction of death. Gene had come close, but he defied death. Now Stefan was in the arena without an assistant. And the prophecy of
Tekla's
dream had not yet been fulfilled.

She noted that Stefan was having trouble with one the lionesses. And although the other cats sat on their pedestals, their tails twitched with agitation and their ears flicked with annoyance. Glancing at Walter, she said, "What happens if there's trouble tonight?"

Walter pointed to several attendants spaced around the perimeter of the ring. "The handlers have been alerted to throw ammonia on the cats if they get out of hand, and the fire hoses are ready. Beyond that, nothing more can be done. It's all up to Stefan."

Walter's words did nothing to calm the flutters in Joanna's stomach or quell the anger she felt toward the man who had put Stefan in this position. "I hope Tony Bernardo rots in jail," she said. "But it's more likely he'll get slapped on the hands and released."

"He'll get more than slapped hands," Walter said. "He's looking at serious charges. Convicted or not, he won't be seeing the inside of a ring again. When word gets out there won't be a show in the country that will hire him. His career is over." Walter waited with Joanna for a few more minutes, then he wished her well, excused himself, and left to check on Rafat in the menagerie tent.

Feeling a growing sense of melancholy, Joanna eased backward until she could no longer see the flicker in Stefan's eyes, or the lines of determination around his mouth, or the furrows of concentration between his brows. He'd seemed so arrogant the first time she'd met him. Yet when she looked at him now, she knew that beneath his rugged facade was a warm sensitive man. And she was walking out of this man's life. How could it come to this? Why couldn't two people in love find a way to be together? But now it was three people. Their child was also a factor.

She blinked and looked away as tears began to surface. Not now. She couldn't break now. But when she looked at Stefan again, several involuntary gasps brought heavy tears slipping down her cheeks. She lowered her head and backed slowly, then turned and retreated into the shadows of the corridor. Thankfully she'd said her good-byes earlier, and no one, except possibly Gene and Otto, would miss her in the closing parade.

Pressing her way through the crowd, she pulled the hood of her rain cape over her hair and headed toward the wagon she'd leased, now loaded with her trunks. Sitting atop the box, she waited in the drizzling rain until she heard the final round of applause and knew Stefan was out of the cage. Then flipping the reins, she urged the horse across the lot. A cauldron of discontent simmered in her stomach as she guided the horse and rig onto the street, away from bittersweet memories of lights and glamour, of flying at the peak of the tent, of being held in Stefan's arms...

Twenty minutes later, she pulled up to the hotel and fetched porters to carry her trunks to her room. Once behind closed doors, she slipped out of her wet clothes and into her nightclothes, and without brushing her hair, climbed into bed, exhausted...

But sleep wouldn't come. For a long time she lay awake, tears rolling down her face, until at last she drifted into a troubled sleep where hundreds of lions skulked toward her. She screamed a silent scream, trying to run on feet mired in sand as the animals crept closer, until she heard their throaty growls, saw the deadly intent in their eyes, felt their breath on her face...

And awakened.

She lay staring into the darkness of the hotel room, afraid to sleep. Yet, without sleep, she didn't think she'd have the energy to struggle through the days to come, days without Stefan.

By morning the rain had stopped, but the air felt sodden and mournful, like a morose premonition. Tekla Janacek's prophetic dream, however, had not manifested, and Joanna felt satisfaction in that, and in the fact that gypsy omens were not to be taken seriously. The rawness of losing Stefan seemed greater now, but time healed all wounds, she reasoned philosophically.

Later that morning, as she listened to the
clickety-clickety
, clickety-click of the iron wheels beneath her, and stared out of the train window, she forced herself to think of the future with Matthew, Libby, little Robbie and the child she was carrying. But what she saw was the murky shades of skepticism stretching out like a long, dismal tunnel. At the end was light, but Stefan wasn't standing in it. The dreaded heaviness settled in her chest again and she felt the familiar sting of tears.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Vicksburg, Mississippi – three weeks later

"
Son of a bitch
!" Matthew slammed a knotted fist against his desk. "The moment I laid eyes on that gypsy bastard I knew he'd take advantage of you. And you were too damn naïve to know the difference between a man's love and a man's lust. I feel like calling him out! You're my sister. I have a right."

Impulsively Joanna placed her hands over her belly. Matthew was in no frame of mind to listen to reason, but she had no choice. The doctor's visit confirmed her suspicions, and Matthew had been the first to know. "But it wasn't like that," she tried to explain. "Stefan did not take advantage of me."

"For crying out loud, Jo. You're carrying his child."

She lowered herself into the chair facing Matthew's desk, wishing now that she had said something to Libby first so Libby could have prepared Matthew before this happened. But while she was mulling over how best to break the news, the terrible morning sickness hit so hard, Matthew called the doctor.

"When Stefan came to my stateroom," she explained, "he had no intention of... doing what he did. It happened because we love each other."