MARC GAVE up berating himself for not keeping his mind on business. Amanda Catherine Emerson had infected his soul. He would carry her with him always. While it lasted, it had been…
He looked over at her sleeping form, naked under the sheet in the cool spring morning, a smile of pleasure curving between her satiated, glowing cheeks. His chest swelled. He grinned into the breaking dawn. He had put that smile there.They had put that smile there. He was feeling pretty damn smiley himself.
He raised the sheet, careful not to cause a draft over her warm body, and let his eyes caress her. Her silken impression still remained in his inflamed skin. His gaze glided over the luscious hills and verdant valleys and his body responded as if ignited.
Damn, buddy. This is going to be a tough one to leave.
His brows knitted together. Stretching his arms behind his head, he thrust back into his threaded fingers.
Not to worry. It’s not that big a deal with Ace.
She had made love to him like lightning. As if they were going to be together forever. There was no hesitancy. Not the slightest indication that she was even considering the fact they couldn’t last.
Well, that was good. He gave a small snort of resignation. He had a business to run, and it wasn’t in New York. She had a life to get on with and it was in New York. Marc was glad it didn’t seem to be something that needed much talking about. Their leaving. Each other.
Leaving wasn’t the kind of thing Marc had ever felt comfortable talking about. But he was learning. The last couple of relationships he had been pretty up front. Not too many recriminations. He was growing up and no longer needed the macho posturing of having to stalk away feeling the wounded party.
I must have been one tough son-of-a-bitch to grow up with. David wasn’t one to feel too much sympathy for, but, still…
Amanda had talked about her family back in Pittsburgh. Over the spaghetti and sauce he had helped prepare. They had found candles and sat naked in the candlelight eating and telling their life stories, sipping good red wine and discussing their philosophies of surviving.
Disagreeing-Jeez, Ace can be stubborn and she’s damn hard on her guys at home – then suddenly moving- like quicksilver; uncontainable. She had more than once gotten teary-eyed at some dumb thing he had said about growing up; at some tender thing she had said herself about something.
She would probably make some kid a great mother. All that understanding.
Marc sucked in the cool morning air. The knot in the middle of his chest remained just as heavy.
God damn! It was going to be hard as hell…
He slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. Let her sleep. He had to get ready for the day. Hit the gym. Practice poses- this time he had to come up with something that would nail the perpetrator. Get this case over with.
He had to bring his brother home. Check with the Met. With Cambiare. See if the insurance company had any news about their missing agent. Keep alert. Some hulking bastard was out there looking to do God knows what harm.
He headed into the kitchen and started breakfast. He could make a pretty good omelet. It would be a nice way for her to wake up. He started coffee. The whipped eggs and milk crackled into the hot margarine and he yelped at the stinging pinpoints that hit his naked body.
Amanda came out of the bedroom, dressed in one of his shirts, her dark, luscious hair tumbling about her sleepy head. Jeez, he had hoped she would still be into the naked thing. She looked delectable. His chest hurt even more.
“Watch out what you’re spattering hot grease on, buddy.”
With a macho flourish, he tied a dishcloth around his middle and she slapped his exposed tush. He turned to grab her and the look of surprise and realization- at their comfortable playfulness, at their imminent loss- the look on her face stopped him cold.
They held each other tightly for a moment, breathing deep, forcing reality into their lungs. And then broke apart, smiling resolutely and ready to face the day.
And that was how it started.
Pretty damn grim.
“I AM thrilled beyond measure!” Professor Angeli’s shrill voice cut through the phone wire with an hysterical edge that concerned Amanda. “Mr. Wilde is being dreadfully circumspect. I think he has a most extraordinary session in mind. Complete with props and costumes.
“I hope it won’t be too startling to our young model. Though I suppose he’s been a part of all sorts of artistic endeavors. I can’t wait. I shall be there with poised pen, prepared to be inspired. I hope my feeble efforts shan’t disappoint anyone.” The uncontrolled edge of his forced laughter caused Amanda to ponder the receiver in her hand as its dial tone buzzed annoyingly.
While Marc showered, Amanda continued making her calls. Mr. Wilde was not circumspect at all. He was filled with enthusiasm for the plans he was making. Costumes, indeed, yes. Props, indeed, yes. But the most amazing thing…
“I am supplying you all with paper of the period. And properly formulated ink. Don’t tell. It’s to be a special surprise. I have a special cache and I dole out my treasures very carefully. This is a particularly exciting occasion. Young Antonio has indeed fired all our imaginations and to have him to ourselves… It’s as though we were members of a very special salon in a very special time. I shall say no more.” And with a totally unusual chuckle of satisfaction, he hung up.
Amanda again found herself staring at the phone in disbelief. “Marc, is that possible? Paper of the period? And ink?”
“My, my, breaking out the big guns. Maybe we haven’t been paying close enough attention to the formidable Mr. Wilde. Oh yeah, it’s possible. Difficult, but possible.” He was in his gym shorts ready to go for his workout. It was hard for Amanda to concentrate.
“Old paper gets discovered all the time. Some of it hits the art black market, some of it shows up in legit houses. End papers of books of the period can be cut out. And ink is formulated from organic stuff that’s been around for a hell of a lot longer than five hundred years. Oil is oil. Clay is clay. Even carbon sticks can be made from old wood.” He shoved fresh shorts and socks into the plastic garment bag that held his suit and shirt and shoes and zipped it closed.
“Which makes it impossible to tell by the age of the materials if the art work is faked, because all the tests check out. The paper is old. The ink is old. Then it comes down to artistic judgment and that can cause a drawing’s worth to skyrocket. Nobody’s going to take the chance the thing might not be for real.” He threw the garment bag over his arm, picked up his gym bag and headed for the door.
“The drawing’s history- its provenance- might be fake, but if it looks like a Michelangelo, smells like a Michelangelo, and talks like a Michelangelo, then, by gummies, somebody somewhere is going to cough up the big bucks just in case, one day, it walks like a Michelangelo.”
He kissed her on the cheek; they caught on a longing look; then Marc quickly left.
Amanda continued her phone calls.
Nathan couldn’t have cared less. Or so he said. “Sure, I’ll be there. The guy’s got a great set of muscles. ‘Bout time we got some special treatment. The rest of Parkerson’s class is for the dodos. Wilde and the prof are going nuts. The old guy’s called me half a dozen times. I get dibs on the fancy paper when they croak from excitement. Dress up? Me? Fat chance.”
Fancy paper? He already knew about it. So much for secrets.
Christine was harder to nail down.
“Dress up? We’re going to play dress up? In what? Those Renaissance push-up things? Wonderful. It ought to knock my young stud’s eyes out when he gets a load of these shoved-out knockers reaching out to touch someone. Wilde and Angeli will be properly appreciative, but Antonio is a healthy growing boy and just might shake up my smug, self-satisfied young buck by making a pass at me.”
“Hey, Amanda, you think you could drop a hint? He’s fair game, right? The naked hunk? You’ve staked out Mr. Horn rims, right? Don’t be greedy, now, love.
“See you on the Central Park greensward. Didn’t Cissy tell you? The wicked witches are roughing it today. She packing a picnic basket. Spring has sprung and she’s ready to spring at it.”
And Amanda thought the unusually warm day was just her.
“ISN’T THISwonderful? I’m so clever.”
Cissy shook out the blanket and spread it on the cool ground. Christine, champagne glasses dramatically pressed to her bosom, surveyed the surrounding landscape punctuated with outcroppings of rock and newly-budding trees and sighed deeply.
“Olmstead really knew what the hell he was doing. This place is great.”
Amanda dug out the plates and sandwiches. Cissy’s idea for a spring picnic in Central Park was truly wonderful. Amanda hadn’t tracked down Marc to tell him their plans- and after berating him for not letting her know his exact whereabouts. He expected the ladies to be safely lunching behind locked doors or in some very public place. But Amanda had convinced herself a glowing, expectant spring day in the park would ensure a mass outpouring of winter-wearied New Yorkers and they would be well chaperoned.
Cissy had chosen a rise overlooking the small Conservatory Pond where model boat aficionados were already out in force. The sky was clear- the color of his eyes in late afternoon- with large, fluffy, picture-postcard clouds. It was just what Amanda needed: quiet chattering friends, delectable goodies, and friendly debate, in a lovely setting. It was perfect.
And from the way the conversation was going, she wasn’t going to have to do much explaining of herself. Christine and Cissy had their own agendas and Amanda’s romantic decisions were pretty low on their lists.
“Jimmy really is adear man.” Cissy sliced off slivers of cheese to go with their fruit dessert. “And he has a very good career going, doesn’t he, boss lady? I mean, as an office manager, he could go practicallyanywhere in the corporate world, right? And move right up the ladder, right?”
“Cissy,” Amanda held out her champagne glass to be refilled, “Jimmy loves his job. He’s very happy in the graphics publishing world and he’s especially good with creative people.”
“Oh, I know, that does take aspecial gift. Umm…” She munched delicately on a cheese-laden cracker, thinking.
Christine laughed. “You’re worried about explaining a New York up-and-comer who makes a living doling out X-rated picture books for grown-ups to your folks. Afraid Daddy won’t like?”
Cissy gasped. “They arenot X-rated. They are very dramatically illustrated. Some people consider themart. There’s a huge number of collectors…” She looked back and forth between her two friends, both of whom observed her askance. She giggled.
“Cissy, he’s a great guy. Cute as all get out. He’ll be a very satisfying companion.” Amanda was feeling very worldly. Yes, she had made the right decision.
“Well, he is energetic, I’ll say that.”
Both Amanda and Christine looked appropriately impressed.
“You’ve done it? Tell all.” Christine leaned in lasciviously. “Explain ‘energetic’.”
Cissy’s head ducked coyly. “Well, you never come home anymore, Miss Amanda. And one thing did lead to another. He was…” She savored a piece of ripe pear, her eyes sparkling. “Very…sweet.” She stretched luxuriously, flinging her head back. “Verythoroughly sweet.” Her delighted laughter caused a couple passing nearby to look over and smile.
“Haw! Cissy-belle’s caught herself a live one. Well, if there’s anything my kid ain’t, it’s sweet. Tough as nails. Power-packed. Just an old broad’s style.” Christine downed the pale sparkling wine in a dramatic swoop.
Amanda gave her a thoughtful look. “What happens when he moves on? You’ve said he will. You expect it.” How would she survive without Marc? She had no choice. She would survive.
Christine sighed. “You’re damn right he’ll move on. I can’t keep up. Some nights I just want to kick off my wedgies and veg out in front of the TV, but he’s gotta get out and ‘make the scene.’” Her hands drew the scene in the air. She whooped. “I’ll make a great corpse.”
Amanda thought Christine seemed truly pleased with her lot. Resigned, but pleased. Not too unlike the way Amanda felt. She had made her decision based on the available information. A good corporate decision. Eventually, the emptiness would fade.
“Oh you silly.” Cissy patted Christine’s hand indulgently. “You’re just beingdramatic. I know some May-December marriages that have worked very well.”
Christine washed down a slice of apple and handful of berries with a drink of champagne. “It’s December-May, honey bun, in that order and marriage is not an operative word.”
“You’re happy?” Amanda needed to hear it.
“It’s okay. Hell of a lot better than hope.”
“Well, I think I’m going to be happy,” Cissy chirped. “It’s about time I settled down. Goodness knows, I’ve tried it all. And I feel Jimmy is someone I cancount on. You know, through thick and thin. Sickness and whatever…”
Amanda knew her roommate and her assistant were about as alike as oil and vinegar, but though the two ingredients don’t exactly mix, the combination can make a satisfying merger. She gave Cissy the thumbs up and wished her well.
All three women were quiet. Each lost in thought. Amanda reviewed her very practical reasons for not continuing the relationship with Marc. Cissy and Christine glanced at each other and turned to her.
“Well?”
“It’s going to be fine. It can’t last because he’s very occupied with his work, just as I am with mine. And,” she shrugged, “I’m not ready to settle down and I’m sure, neither, is he. So, that’s that.”
Christine made an effort to keep it light. “Is it good?”
The pause wasn’t to remember whether it was good or not. It was to give Amanda time to force the knot in her throat back down where it didn’t interfere with her speech.
“Yes. It’s very good. I will miss him tremendously. But,” she sat up and toasted her companions, “the fat lady hasn’t sung yet and until she does, we’re having a great time.”
Christine patted Amanda’s knee. “Atta girl.”
“Maybe something will work out.” Cissy’s lip trembled.
“Hey!” Christine sat up and lightly punched Amanda on the shoulder. “What about the naked hunk? You made it with him yet? He sure as hell doesn’t look ready to settle down either and how much of a career can a buck naked beauty have? Even if he is a damned spectacularposeur. When Horn Rims takes off, it wouldn’t be a bad shot to have Mr. Gorgeous Butt waiting in the wings.”
Amanda laughed. “Christine, you do know how to put things in perspective. I’ll keep that in mind. And, by the way, I did speak to Gorgeous Butt and he’s going to make a pass at you tomorrow, just as you requested, so be sure you strip Nathan of any sharp objects in case he rises to the jealously bait.”
Christine flopped back, her eyes rolling. “Strip Nathan. Now there’s a thought to block my neural transmitters. What were we talking about? Y’know, the kid does have a great…”
Amanda and Cissy tossed crumpled napkins at her.
“Leavesomething for us to speculate on, Christine.” Cissy’s laughter was light and satisfied. “There are some things Inever intend to tell my Jimmy.Mystery is important.”
Yeah, Amanda thought, her mind swinging back to more mundane matters, unless the mystery involves possible murder, international fakery and a lot of probable mayhem. She looked around at the lovely, tranquil setting. And gasped in shock.
“I’M SORRY, I just don’t see what your problem is.” David Parkerson settled gingerly onto the sofa, looking around, pleased to be back in his own apartment.
I should have known better than to try and hold a brother-to-brother conversation with that cold fish.
Marc placed a pillow behind his brother’s back and asked if he would like a snack.
“I don’t mean to seem uncaring, and I’m pleased that you’re sharing your affair with me, but unless you’re serious about the woman I can’t imagine where it could lead.”
Affair. Oh, man.
“Yeah, you’re right, big brother, and I can’t be serious because she’s gonna stay here climbing up the corporate ladder and I’m gonna be there cooling my heels in the Pacific surf. Well, thanks anyway for the insight.” He went into the kitchen to dig out some stuff to eat and make some tea.
“Speaking of affairs, did you realize that my young assistant at the Met came to see me several times?” David tried not to seem too pleased. “Ostensibly to keep me informed since our distinguished curator certainly wouldn’t have, but also I think because she genuinely enjoys my company.” He looked at Marc expectantly.
Marc was nonplused. That was the last thing he expected. Big brother showing an interest in something other than art. Someone, other than art.
“You mean that young woman, uh, the quiet one?” He stared blankly into the open refrigerator.
David laughed indulgently and carefully pushed himself up off the sofa. “She took me for walks up and down the halls, along with that wretched guard you placed on me. She said I must get back on my feet as soon as possible. I was needed and missed. I’m in much better shape because of her. She wanted to be there today when you picked me up, but I told her we needed some time together.”
Some time together? Us? That phrase has never passed the man’s lips. Curiouser and curiouser. Maybe…maybe the world is a-changin’.
“She’s certainly not the beauty your Miss Emerson is, but she has great charm in her own way. A lovely simplicity. An inner confidence and peace that is most attractive. Though quite a scholar and most definite about her opinions. She would be a challenge.” Marc saw a quiet intensity he had never seen on his brother’s face before.
“David, she’s very young.”
“An old soul. And I am very flattered. I am hopeful enough to believe I could add to her life.” He leaned back against the kitchen counter and contemplated the top of the cabinets. “For as long as her interest might last.” His voice became almost inaudible. “I would consider it an… honor.”
Marc could hardly believe his ears.
“David, that’s great. I don’t… I… That’s great.”
His brother smiled benignly. “She wrote her thesis on my downfall. Her speculations were that my reasoning was impeccable. No other scholar or authenticator could have made a more astute judgment. On the basis of those arguments, I could have been just as right as I was wrong. Authentication is a fine, and finite, art.” He beamed. Marc could see the pleasure in his eyes, remembering her intensity.
Nothing like having a girl friend who believes in you.
He had faked his way into Amanda’s good graces on their first night together, had put off taking her into his confidence, and had treated her like she should be grateful that a guy like him would deign to fall for her. At the moment, he couldn’t think of anything else to kick himself for.
But he had eventually told her what was going on, had stuck his neck out to believe she wasn’t the forger, and had given her space to make her own decisions and decide what to do. Crazy as some of her actions were, they were good ones. She’d make a top P.I. He had joked about having her in his one-man firm.
And that’s what it’s going to stay: a one-man firm.
Somehow or other, eats appeared on the table, his tea was brewing, David wanted wine.
“So you see, I was somewhat preoccupied when you began to discuss your relationship with Miss Emerson…Amanda. I’m afraid I’m so new at this sort of thing I can’t be much help. But, Marc,” his older brother’s eyes grew misty. “wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if someone did care for me? I believe I could reciprocate.”
He sipped his wine quickly to fortify himself. The concept was a new, exciting and terrifying one. “I would try very hard.”
David unsure about his ability to enhance someone’s life? Not just expounding on how he could instruct, tell them how to think, correct their bad judgment?
“David, you know you’ve been considered the prime suspect in this case.”
Marc was instantly ashamed. Did he want to slap his brother in the face? The brother, who, for the first time in his unfeeling life, might be feeling?
Surely not jealousy, little bud. Surely not getting back at dear old Dad through the guy who always made your life miserable. Yeah, well, if he made your life such hell why did you take this case? Why did you go through all this “Antonio” hassle to help redeem him? Why are you angry now?
‘Cause he’s got a girlfriend and you ain’t.
David walked carefully back into the living room and eased himself into his favorite lounge chair. His head nodded thoughtfully. Marc had expected anger. Hurt.
“I suppose I could take that as a compliment. Have you seen the drawings? I know you don’t know much about art, but…”
“Yes. They’re great. Even I… they’re really beautiful. I was very proud to think that you might have done them.”
“Thank you, Marc. That’s most kind. I would like very much to see them myself.” He took a long swallow. “So you’ve known all along that I was suspect.”
“Cambiare hired me because they thought I would have the most to lose and you the most to gain. Assuming there were any brotherly feelings left between us.” He poured a shot of bourbon into his tea, dumped something salty and crunchy into a bowl and sprawled onto the sofa. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to see if you’d hang yourself somewhere along the line first.”
“And what did you discover that convinces you I’m innocent.”
“Innocent, you’re not, but a forger you’re not either. Too much integrity. I wasn’t sure how much had been knocked out of you.”
“My reputation isn’t as important to me as it once was. Alma has made me very aware of that.”
“Alma?”
He seemed to test each word carefully, as if to see if it would remain in the air. “My young lady. Simply knowing that someone with integrity and training is concerned for me. It was a great revelation.”
“I always believed in you.”
“You’ve just said you weren’t sure. There’s a difference.”
Something deep in Marc’s psyche began to put pieces together. Bits of truths that he had been accumulating but that had remained separate, like defragmenting his computer. It was beginning to come clear. A movie special effect with swirling mists and clouds that at a climatic moment came together into something solid, something he could put his hands on. And deal with. Soon it would snap into focus and he would know.
“Do you think there’s any way I might see the drawings?”
“They’re in London. We could fly over. I could check. We could check. Cambiare believes in you, David.”
“I’ll call tomorrow. While you’re having your special posing session without the imperious instructor clucking over his students.”
“I think if the imperious instructor had clucked more, your best pupils might not be deserting you to try and find something special on their own.”
He nodded. “Do you think there’s any hope for my redemption, my younger and wiser sibling?”
“You’ve got someone by your side who trusts you. Go for it.”Go for it.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, either, Marc, I’m afraid. You should know before you go into the session tomorrow. I’m almost certain I know who the forger is.”
“CISSY, CHRISTINE, look down the rise, across the pond. Do you see that large man sitting on the bench reading a paper?”
Christine started to wave. “Hey, it’s Mr. Wilde.”
“No, it’s the guy who broke into our apartment and tore up my files and probably the one who rifled my office, attacked Marc, and most certainly is the one who followed me down to Pinks.”
Christine snatched her raised hand back as if burnt. She turned sharply toward Amanda. “You know about Pinks? Damn. And you’ve had a break-in, too? I thought it was just my nosey cleaning lady.”
Cissy’s wide eyes narrowed. She quickly drew her hand away from her slack jaw where it had been suppressing a cry, and began to rummage in the Prada shopping bag that had held their lunch.
“I was so hoping we wouldn’t need these. But New York is New York. It’s always best to be prepared.” She handed out metal silver-colored tubes with rings.
“What the hell are these?”
“Bobby’s whistles. London policemen. From England. They’ll wake the dead. And attract alot of attention. And here.” She thrust small dark spray tubes at them.
“Mace?”
“And pepper spray? Are these legal?”
“So let him sue. There’s more.”
“Where did you get this stuff, Cissy?”
“Daddy sent acare package. Here. Walkie-talkies. Two pair. They look like cell phones. Aren’t theycute? ”
Amanda laughed. “Cissy, you never cease to amaze me. Jimmy is going to have to run to keep up. He’ll love that.”
Christine hefted the heavy champagne bottle. “You want me to test my pitching arm?”
“No, I want us all to go off in different directions and see who he follows. We’ve got to figure what this guy is up to. And don’t sell him short. He moves fast and he can cause a lot of damage.”
They cleared up the picnic debris and prepared to separate.
“What did Pinks take of yours?” Christine attempted nonchalance.
“Take of mine? I went there to buy something. Do you have work there?”
“Damned creepy snot wouldn’t take any of my stuff.” She gave a short harsh laugh. “Took all the guys’. That’s okay.” She lifted her shoulders in satisfaction. “The only one that’s sold anything is Nathan.”
“Nathan?” That was a surprise.
“Yeah. Some drawings he had left there before, he told me. Supposed to have been pretty good. You know Nathan. Ever the self-deprecating one. We never saw them. Hey, hey…” She swung her head toward the pond. “Looks like the big guy has finished his read. We stand up, he stands up. Who do you think he’s going after?”
“We’ll keep in constant touch with each other on the walkie-talkies,” Amanda instructed. “Whoever he follows, the other two will circle around behind and never lose eye contact. Agreed? If he makes a threatening move, we raise the dead.”
“I feel like one of the ThreeMusketeers out to save the Queen’s necklace or something.” Cissy’s eyes sparkled. “Isn’t thisexciting? ”
Christine chuckled. “Well it beats flaking out at Elizabeth Arden’s which is what I was planning to do after this feed. What do you think he wants, Amanda?”
“If he’s already rifled all our apartments and not found what he wants, I think it’s more information than anything else. Okay, let’s move out and be careful.”
“Think Rocky?”
“Rambo.”
BACK IN David’s apartment, Marc looked his brother dead in the eye.
“You think you know who the forger is?”
“I’m almost certain. I’ve had quite a bit of time to go over my theory. But I need to see the drawings.”
“London could send copies over the Internet. They’ve the most secure encryption I’ve seen yet. Who is it?”
“I don’t think it would be fair to implicate anyone until I’m certain. It’s much too serious a charge now.”
“David, what if you’re wrong? It’ll be the same loss of prestige all over again. Don’t take the chance. Wait until I find out for certain. We might strike it lucky tomorrow.”
“All right. Tomorrow.”
THEIR VOICES crackled over the walkie-talkies.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
“You are, Christine. Oh, my goodness!”
“Don’t worry, Christine, we’re only about a block away. Cissy, can you see the guy?”
“Yes. I’m right in front of Bergdorf’s. Oh, what a pretty outfit.”
“Cissy, pay attention. Christine may be in danger.
“If you ask me, it’s thatmuch-too-heavy man that’s in danger. Christine, can you hear me? I still amappalled that you shoved that big old Moet and Chandon bottle in that gorgeous Kenneth Cole bag. You’re going to positively ruin…”
“Oh my God, he’s coming at me. I can’t believe it. Right here in the middle of Fifth Avenue. Are you guys close? Should I look for a cop or something?”
“Christine, cool it. He’s not going to attack you in broad daylight. I see him! Cissy?”
“Yes, I see him, too. What should we…”
“Oh, thank God, here comes Nathan! I told him to meet me at Arden’s.” Her urgent whispers changed to a bright conversational tone. “Hi, guy! We were having too much fun in the park, I’m afraid I missed my appointment, but that’s okay since I’m all flushed and rosy, anyway, right? Let’s go see if they can work me in.”
“Uh, I’m just talking to the girls.” Christine hissed into the walkie-talkie. “Where the hell did he go?”
“Cissy, do you see him?”
“I think he went into Trump Tower. Oh my, do you think maybe we could have been wrong? Amanda, are you sure that was…”
“Yes, Cissy, I am sure!”
“Oh, well, yes, of course. I mean, I was stillhiding in the bedroom when you and that nice Mr. Horn Rims, I mean, oh, Christine, now you’ve gotme saying it. Christine? She’s not answering…”
“Cissy, look, you can see her. She’s not on the walkie-talkie anymore. She’s heading off down Fifth with Nathan. Cissy, I think you can put that away now.”
Cissy turned with a shock as Amanda touched her on the elbow.
“Ohmy, with all the people, I didn’t see you, Amanda. Well, that was certainlyexciting.”
“Cissy, the man just walked away. We don’t know any more than we did before.”
“Well, we know he’s afraid of Nathan or didn’t want to talk to Christine when Nathan was around…orsomething. So, we’ve learnedsomething. Even if we’re not so sure what it is. I don’t think I should have had that third glass of champagne.”
They were in a cab half-way down to Chelsea when it dawned on Amanda. She had the driver stop immediately, sent Cissy on and rushed for an uptown taxi.
A few minutes later she was excitedly explaining to Marc over the telephone, after tracking him down at the insurance company in Rockefeller Center. “Marc! Cissy was right! It was Nathan! That’s what made the big guy change his mind. He was headed toward Christine, Marc, really moving though those people on Fifth Avenue. He wanted to get to Christine. And then he saw Nathan and changed his mind instantly. He ducked into the nearest doorway. And I think I know why.”
She was so excited it was hard for Marc to contain his anger. He couldn’t believe she and her insane girl friends had taken it on themselves to follow a guy who might be a murderer, for all they knew. And who was a vicious and violent burglar, they certainly did know. Marc had the bruises to prove that.
This…this insane relationship with this…this insane woman were driving him to distraction. How could she be so brazen? So sure of herself? So sure she wouldn’t bring God knows what down on the head of her friends, for God’s sake!
Marc sighed.Heaven help her enemies.
“I knew you would be angry. I just knew it! Don’t try to pretend you’re not. I know that look.” Her voice crackled with indignation over the wires. “We were perfectly safe. Practically an arsenal of stuff from Cissy’s Dad. If that creep had tried anything there would have been such…”
Uh oh, she was really mad at him now.And what had he done?
Be concerned that his girlfriend might have gotten herself in… No! She was not his girlfriend. There was no way in hell this thing between them could last past… Tomorrow could just be the night to bring everything to a head. And then farewell and goodbye. His look softened, he sighed into the mouthpiece.
“Maybe I…” She was fighting hard to maintain her confidence in her decisions. “There wasn’t time to get in touch with you, Marc. And those women are smart. They wouldn’t have put themselves into real danger. And we did learn something.”
MINUTES LATER, Amanda’s assurance in herself slowly began to rebuild as she rushed ahead with her story to Marc. They were on Fifth Avenue, having met in front of Saks, moving down the street.
“After it dawned on me, I left Cissy and grabbed a cab back here, praying I hadn’t lost him. I hung around, watching the red door at Elizabeth Arden’s. Sure enough, Nathan came out. Probably to hang around while Christine had her facial or whatever. He headed toward the Museum of Modern Art and, Marc, I swear, the big guy just emerged from the crowd. It was spooky. I had really been keeping an eye out for him. I have no idea where he came from.”
Marc looked at her desperately. “Go on, go on!”
“Anyway, he started following Nathan and started closing in. I panicked. I didn’t know what he was going to do.
“I started to run for a cop- they’re everywhere in midtown- but the guy caught up with Nathan and stopped him right outside the museum. I was about half a block away. He acted very polite and Nathan didn’t seem to mind. It was like some guy on the street asking him for directions or something. They had a short conversation. And then Nathan just beamed. You know, the way he does when he turns in a particularly good illustration at work.
“ No, of course you wouldn’t know that. Well, he does. Or… or like when somebody really praises him. Then he gave the guy something, his card it looked like, although who would have thought Nathan had cards. And the guy thanked him profusely, backing away like Nathan had just done him the hugest favor, and walked away as Nathan strutted into MOMA. The guy started in my direction so I had to duck out of the way and when I thought it was safe to look, he was gone.”
She paused, flushed with excitement. Waiting to see if he had caught the significance, waiting to see if he was going to yell at her or praise her.
He grabbed her hard- to shut her up, to yell at her, to shut himself up, to love her- and planted a hard, possessive kiss on her unbelievably soft and yielding mouth, because he couldn’t stand one more second of being in her presence without holding her tight.
In front of Fifth Avenue Presbyterian. Where people got married all the time who weren’t even Presbyterian.
His blood ran cold.
Even as his body throbbed blisteringly hot.