Charade (34 page)

his life depended on it. She squirmed beneath him, she clawed his bare back, she cursed him viciously. He drove himself into her with such force that the table legs scraped across the floor and he almost lost his balance. She clamped his hips with her strong thighs, crossed her ankles at the small of his back, and sank her fingernails into the cheeks of his ass. He came almost instantly, but so did she. She flung her arms back over her head, knocking coffee cups and the ashtray to the floor. She thrashed her head from side to side, whipping her hair around. Her teeth clamped down so hard on her lower lip that they broke the skin. Even long after it was over, her breasts continued to rise and fall. Cyc rubbed them roughly with his callused palms. "Great tits." She purred deep in her throat and began moving restlessly, arching her back, shifting the position of her legs. Her face was flushed, her lips bruised and swollen. A bead of blood appeared on her lower lip. A damp strand of hair lay across her throat. She looked at him through drowsy, half-closed eyes, smiling the wicked smile he remembered well. "Your pussy has pythons in it. I always said so." She laughed lustily. "We're gonna be rich, Cyc. Rich." "Damn right." He tried to withdraw, but she locked him within her thighs. "Where do you think you're going?" His heart rate accelerated. Once had never been enough for the old Kismet. She was back. "You made quite a mess down there," she whispered, her smile lewd. "Clean it up." She clasped his head between her hands and pushed it down between her thighs.

Chapter Forty-five

He tapped on her bedroom door. "Cat?" "I'm almost ready. Has the taxi arrived?" "No, but Cyclops has." She opened the door with a swift yank. Alex was checking the cylinder of his revolver. Seeing the loaded weapon made her shiver. "They drove past once and must have circled the block," he told her. "I just saw them turn the corner at the end of the street. They're headed this way." " 'They'?" "He's got Kismet and Michael on the bike with him." "Good Lord." "Right," Alex said grimly. "My guess is he'll use them like hostages to soften you up." Following their quarrel the night before, Cat had retired to her bedroom and packed for her trip to California. Once that was done, she'd turned out the lights and gone to bed, but not to sleep. She could hear him moving about the other rooms of the house, probably checking windows and doors to make certain they were

locked. In spite of her anger at him, she was glad he'd stayed. She felt much safer having him there, keeping vigil. When they'd met in the kitchen this morning, they'd behaved like polite strangers. He'd offered to pour her a cup of coffee from the pot he'd brewed, and she'd thanked him for it. He'd asked the time of her flight and offered to drive her to the airport. "Thank you, but I've called for a taxi to pick me up here." "Fine," he'd replied. She had then returned to her bedroom to shower and dress. They hadn't spoken again. Now she followed him down the short hallway into the living room. "Maybe they won't stop when they see your car out front," Cat said hopefully. "I parked it in the garage after you went to bed." "Oh." "It'll work to our benefit if they think you're alone. We've got the element of surprise on our side." She parted the slats of the blinds in one of the front windows and watched as the motorcycle moved slowly down the street toward her house. From his position at the adjacent window, Alex said, "Go back to your room, Cat. Wait there until I've had a chance to feel out this situation." "No way." "This isn't the time to-- Whoa!" he exclaimed suddenly. "That is Kismet, isn't it?" Cat had to look beyond the clothes and makeup to be certain. If Kismet hadn't been carrying Michael in her arms, she wouldn't have recognized her. As she brazenly sauntered up the walk, her hips swung provocatively from side to side. Yesterday, she could be cowed with a look. Today, she seemed ready, even eager, to take on any opponent brave enough to cross her. She gave the doorbell three strident jabs. Cat glanced at Alex. He motioned for her to open the door, then stepped to the other side of it so that when it was opened, he would be concealed. Cautiously, Cat unlocked the door and pulled it halfway open. Instantly noticeable were the unshed tears welling in Kismet's eyes. They were incongruent with the whorish makeup and the

swaggering self-confidence with which she'd approached the house. Then Cat noticed that her lips were trembling. "Please," she whispered. "Please help me."

Despite the unflattering description Cat had given Alex of Lieutenant Hunsaker, he was willing to extend his fellow cop the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, Hunsaker lived up to expectations. The moment he strutted into Cat's living room, Alex pegged him as a buffoon. His ego was as inflated as his beer gut. "Looks like destiny brought us together after all," he said to Cat, smiling broadly. Specks of tobacco resided in the corners of his lips. "Looks like." "The wife sure did appreciate the autograph." "Thank you. Lieutenant Hunsaker, this is Patricia Holmes and her son, Michael." He acknowledged the introduction to Kismet with a curt nod. While waiting for the police to arrive, Cat had remained in the bedroom with Michael and Kismet. When they emerged, there wasn't a trace of the harsh makeup on Kismet's face. Her hair had been neatly secured with a clip. She was wearing a pair of coveralls, probably the only item in Cat's closet large enough for her. Cat turned Hunsaker toward him. "And this is Alex Pierce." "Pierce." The detective shook his hand. "Alex is a former policeman," Cat informed him. '"S that right? Where 'bouts?" "Houston." "Houston, huh?" He looked Alex up and down. "How come you left the force?" "None of your business." Taken aback, Hunsaker said, "No need to get defensive." "I'm not. Just stating a fact." He noisily cleared his throat and gave his slipping belt a tug. "Okay, who's gonna fill me in on what happened?" "Alex?" Cat prompted. "You saw more than we did." He outlined what had happened the preceding day and earlier that morning, ending with Kismet's tearful plea at Cat's threshold. "Cat didn't ask any questions. She pulled her and the boy inside and bolted the front door. Ms. Holmes was terrified. She said that

if Cyclops got his hands on her, he'd kill her for betraying him. Michael was scared too. He didn't understand what was going on, but he sensed his mother's panic. I told Cat to take them into her bedroom." "That's when I called you, Lieutenant," Cat chimed in. "But I was afraid of what Cyclops might do." "I told her not to worry, that I'd stop the bastard cold before he made it into the house." Hunsaker cut his eyes toward the revolver lying on the table. "It's no longer loaded," Alex said. "What about the biker?" Hunsaker asked. "This Cyclops character. What'd he do then?" "He hadn't expected Cat to pull Kismet into her house and slam the door. Consequently, he sensed right away that something had gone awry. He shouted from the curb, asking what the hell was going on. When I didn't answer, he started looking agitated. "I don't know what the hell took you so long to get here, Hunsaker," Alex continued. "If you hadn't dragged your feet, Cyclops could be behind bars by now awaiting indictment for assault and extortion." The detective ignored the criticism and turned to Cat. "He tried to get money from you last night?" "That's right." She recounted Cyclops's visit. "He doesn't sound like somebody you'd want to mess with," he remarked when she was finished. "Why didn't you call me?" "Because she called me," Alex said. "I stayed here the rest of the night." Hunsaker must have taken the implication for what it was. He harrumphed and said, "What about this morning? Why'd he come back?" "Ms. Holmes tricked Cyclops into bringing her and Michael along to strengthen his argument," Alex said. "Once she disappeared into the house, his animal instincts must have warned him that he'd been double-crossed, and that he'd be screwed for sure if he didn't get out of here." "So he took off?" "Yeah. But not before yelling, 'I'll kill you, Kismet. You and your brat.' I can't quote him accurately within Michael's hearing, but all I omitted were a few adjectives. Then he roared away. There's a dangerous criminal now at large," Alex added as a mild rebuke for the detective's delay. Hunsaker turned to Cat. "Do you have anything to add?" "Only that Alex and I witnessed Mr. Murphy striking Ms. Holmes yesterday afternoon at their house." This was getting too complicated for him. He scratched his head. "I'm unclear on why you went out there." "We were following up a clue into that other matter I discussed with you in your office," Cat said. "Those clippings, you mean?" "Yes. I thought Cyclops might be the one sending them." "Was he?" She looked at Kismet, who vigorously shook her head. "I don't believe so," Cat said. "But he still belongs behind bars. You can check with Child Protection Services. There've already been several complaints against him for abusive treatment of a child. He was released due to a lack of initiative by the prosecutor." "What about her?" He hitched his thumb toward Kismet. "She was also implicated, but only because she couldn't stand up to Cyclops for fear of reprisal." Hunsaker indicated the soiled sofa. "Mind if I sit?" "Not at all," Cat said. He lowered himself to the edge of the cushion and addressed Kismet, who was seated in a chair, holding Michael on her lap. Acting as a buffer, Cat sat on the arm of the chair. "What've you got to say for yourself?" Hunsaker asked. Kismet glanced apprehensively at Cat, who took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly. "Tell him what you told me." She blotted her tears and nervously wet her bruised, swollen lips. "Yesterday, after they left," she nodded toward Cat and Alex, "he came up with this plan on how to get money from her for Sparky's heart." "Who's Sparky?" Alex filled in the gaps. Hunsaker hung on every word. "Jesus, this is complicated," he grumbled, turning back to Kismet. "Cyclops wanted money in exchange for this Sparky's heart. And Sparky was your boy's natural daddy, right?"

Kismet nodded and ran her hand over Michael's head. The boy hadn't been out of her reach since Cat had pulled them inside. No one could doubt her devotion to him. "Cyc came home real late last night. He was angry because Ms. Delaney had refused to give him any money," Kismet told the detective. "He said she laughed at him." Alex was aghast. "You laughed at him? You didn't tell me that. Are you crazy?" "No, I'm not crazy." "Quiet!" Hunsaker ordered. He looked balefully at Alex. "Pardon the interruption, Ms. uh, Holmes, is it? Go on." "Cyc did some lines and got real mean. I tried to stay out of his way, but he still worked me over pretty good. After he passed out, I laid awake trying to figure out what to do." Her dark eyes began to shimmer with fresh tears. "Ms. Delaney seemed like such a nice lady. I'd seen her on TV, helping those kids. She was good to Michael at that picnic." "What picnic?" "Irrelevant," Alex snapped. "Let her tell her story, why don't you?" "I'm not the one who keeps interrupting. You are." Hunsaker signaled for Kismet to continue. "I didn't want Cyc to bother Ms. Delaney. But I was so happy to know that maybe Sparky's heart had saved the life of someone like her. And the way she stood up to Cyc gave me courage. So I decided to stand up to him too." "Except that she had no money, no transportation, and no one to call for help," Cat interjected. "If she had tried to run away, she wouldn't have gotten very far before he found her." "And he'd have hurt me and probably Michael," Kismet said. "I knew my only chance was to outsmart him. So this morning, I . . ." She swallowed convulsively. Cat placed her arm around her. "Go on, Patricia," she urged gently. "You're almost finished." Kismet nodded. "I gave Michael a downer last night so he'd sleep late this morning. That was wrong, I know, but I couldn't ... I didn't want to risk him seeing ... I got Cyc all turned on, you

know? I had to pretend that I liked it. I had to convince him that I'd gone back to being the way I was before I fell in love with Sparky." She began to cry in earnest. "You did what you had to do, Patricia. No one in this room is in a position to judge you." Cat's soft, understanding, woman-to-woman tone shut out Alex and Hunsaker as effectively as the closing of a steel vault door. Kismet had used sex to barter for her life. A few men might be able to empathize. But it really took another woman to comprehend the utter debasement of that. At that moment, just being a man made Alex feel guilty by association. He wondered if Hunsaker felt as he did. Probably not. Hunsaker was too thick-headed to grasp anything that abstract. But at least he had the sensitivity to look away and remain quiet until Kismet had composed herself enough to continue. "Afterward, I convinced Cyc to drive me here and let me have a go at Ms. Delaney. I said I'd use Michael, since she really cared for him. Cyc didn't like the idea, but I argued that since he hadn't gotten money from her with threats, he ought to let me try and play on her sympathy. He finally gave in." She pulled Michael closer to her. "That walk from the curb to the front door seemed to take forever. I was scared stiff Cyc would catch on to my plan before I reached the door." When she turned to Cat, her expression bordered on worshipful. "I don't know what I'd've done if you'd slammed the door in my face. I can never repay you." "I only want to see you and Michael safely away from that brute." "Do you wanna press charges?" Hunsaker asked Kismet. "Yes." "You sure? Sometimes you gals chicken out when it comes right down to it." "She's not going to chicken out," Alex said testily. "And I certainly won't," Cat said. "He threatened my life and theirs if I didn't give him money. That's extortion. I'll testify against him. You can depend on it." "But you've got to find him first," Alex said to Hunsaker. "In the meantime, we've guaranteed Ms. Holmes and Michael a safe place to live."

The detective came to his feet. "There's a lot of paperwork involved. Will y'all be able to come to my office this afternoon and give your statements?" They agreed on a time. "I'll put out an APB for George Murphy. I've got a description of him and his Harley. We'll have him in custody in no time." "You won't find him," Kismet said with quiet certainty. "He's got dozens of places to hide. There're people who'll hide him. You won't find him." Alex was afraid she might be right, but he kept this grim opinion to himself. If and when Cyclops was captured, it would likely be attributed to the biker's carelessness rather than to the efficiency of the police. Hunsaker, on the other hand, made boisterous promises that Cyclops would soon be in police custody. "You relax and let us handle everything from here on, little lady." He ruffled Michael's hair. "Cute kid." "Thank you for coming," Cat said as he lumbered to the door. "You never figured out who was sending you those mysterious clippings?" "I'm afraid not. That's what I was after when I stirred up this hornets' nest. Of course, I'm glad I did. Patricia and Michael have been liberated." Alex realized that as a sign of respect, Cat now referred to Patricia only by her real name. Kismet was a thing of the past. "Have you received any more crank mail since you came to see me?" Hunsaker asked. "No." "There you go," he said, pleased with himself. "You'll probably never know who sent it. I figured all along that it didn't amount to anything." Cat had better manners than Alex could fathom. In spite of Hunsaker's gross condescension, she graciously thanked him for his time and assistance. "I forgot to tell you," he said to Cat after closing the door on the detective. "While we were waiting for Hunsaker to get here, your taxi came. I tipped the driver ten bucks and sent him away." "Thank you. I'd forgotten all about it." "Will you still be going to California?"