Tread softly Page 13

  She stopped so abruptly that the dog at her side whined up at her. Bruno! Would he dare do this? Wouldn’t Emmett balk at anything that might damage his son’s political career? Cady nodded. The answer was an unqualified affirmative. She started walking again, feeling her mouth compress. Emmett wouldn’t cross the street to save her life, but as long as she was Rafe’s spouse, he wouldn’t do anything that would spot her reputation. Emmett would jump off a skyscraper to see that his son remained a senator. Therefore, Cady thought in bitter amusement, Emmett would not have had a hand in the blackmail scheme. But would Bruno go it alone on something like this? Cady nodded again. He had the nerves of a riverboat gambler. “Bruno.” She hissed the name, startling the bull terrier into whining and rubbing his muzzle against her thigh. Cady patted the animal absentmindedly. Would Bruno have the gall to cross Emmett in such a way? Yes. There were enormous sums of money involved if Greeley succeeded in burying the environmental bill before it reached the floor of the Senate.

  “How do I prove such a thing, Hobo?” she quizzed the whining dog. “How do I throw a wrench in the works of a plan that would be disastrous to Rafe… to me… and to our marriage? If they’re allowed to get away with this, Hobo, they’ll begin to undermine all the hard-fought battles Rafe has engaged in for our state.” She stopped, clenching her hands in front of her, seeing in her mind’s eye Rafe brought down, disgraced by these men. “No!” she shouted, making the dog bark. She patted his head. “I’m not going to let it happen, Hobo. They would pull Rafe apart, just as you were torn apart in pit fighting. Right now I’m between a rock and a hard place”—Cady hit the palm of her hand with her fist—”but I will be damned if I’ll let these people destroy Rafe or his ideals.”

  She paced back and forth in the meadow surrounding the paddock, racking her brain. “Stacy. Stacy Lande. I’ll talk to her.” Cady inhaled, feeling suddenly lighter as she thought of the secretary in Rafe’s office whom she had hired away from Bruno Trabold at Stacy’s own pleading. At first Cady had been very suspicious of the woman, thinking that she was a plant Bruno had placed there so he could spy on Cady. Gradually she had come to accept Stacy and believe her story that she could no longer work for the unscrupulous Bruno Trabold and still sleep nights. The two women had become close, and Cady considered her a good friend.

  She returned to the house on the run and called Rafe’s office, asking to speak to the secretary. “Stacy? It’s Cady Densmore. Yes, it’s been awhile.” Cady took a deep breath. “Stacy, I want you to do a favor for me. I want… ” Cady swallowed. “I want you to tell me more about the Durra parties. Yes, I know I said it was a dead issue… Now I need to know some things. I’d rather not talk about it on the phone. Yes, I know it was a rough time for you… for me, too.” Cady gulped. “Stacy, I have it on good authority that there is a plot to destroy the senator and his work. You’ll help me? Thank you. Yes, Robert’s will be fine. One o’clock on Monday.”

  The rest of the morning Cady made notes on people she might have alienated while she was working in Rafe’s office. The list wasn’t long, but it held more names than she would have guessed had someone asked her beforehand.

  When Trock returned, a panting Graf at his side, he held a camera out to her. “I brought this a while back. For a time I was an air photographer in the Marine Corps. Learned a few things.” He paused, his throat working. “Leacock seems to know many people.” He looked down at the dog. “Graf spotted his enemy… Bruno Trabold. They met on the access road to the Battle of Manassas Field. It’s pretty open there, so I wasn’t able to get too close… ” He patted the dog. “But this fellow recognized Trabold and so did I.” He coughed. “Following Todd Leacock hasn’t been too hard. Don’t imagine he figured anyone would do that. Got some good pictures of him and Trabold.” He wrinkled his brow, clearing his throat as though talking made it hurt. “I won’t be around here much. I want to see what Leacock does with his evenings.” He took a deep breath. “Can you stall him?”

  Cady nodded, grim-faced. “I will. I must.”

  Trock grunted. “Don’t expect to see me until I have more information. The pictures will be ready tomorrow. I’m developing them myself.”

  “Thank you, Trock.”

  “They won’t get away with it, Mrs. D.” Track’s voice was flat, but there was a lethal flicker in his opaque eyes.

  Rafe called and left a message with Mrs. Lacey that he would be working late that evening. Cady was both relieved that she could put off facing him after the row they’d had the previous evening and fearful that Rafe would be with a beautiful woman who would take his mind off his hysterical wife. All the pain of rejection that she had felt prior to Rafe’s accident seemed to gather and balloon inside her once more. Worms of doubt nibbled away at the newfound happiness that she was beginning to find with her husband.

  She plunged herself, dry-eyed, into the work at hand. She wouldn’t allow herself ever again to become so immobilized by pain that she would retreat into a cocoon of oblivion. No! She lectured herself. Cady Nesbitt Densmore, you’re a fighter, not a quitter! You can’t give in to this! If you had talked to Rafe all those times before the accident, if you had told him how hurt you were by the things his family said and did to you, if you had made him talk to you instead of sending him alone to parties, to socials, then you might never have felt frozen out of his life. She gritted her teeth, nodding her head jerkily. Bruno Trabold and Todd Leacock expect you to cave in. Surrender! Concede! Cady surged to her feet behind the desk, rocking the heavy oak desk chair. “Rafe didn’t quit,” she muttered, staring at the oak-paneled walls, her hands snapping the pencil they held between them. “I won’t quit, either. I’ll see them in hell first.”

  She was staring sightlessly down at the pieces of pencil in her hand when the phone rang. “Yes?”

  Todd Leacock spoke in her ear. “Have you got what we want, Cady?”

  “I need more time.” She tried to moisten her dry lips with her tongue. “Rafe will be suspicious if I tackle him with this all at once. I have to move slowly or he’ll know that something is wrong. I can’t hurry Rafe into changing his mind on the bill.” She held her breath.

  “All right, Cady.” Todd’s voice had a surly tinge. “But you don’t have too much time. My friend tells me that some congressmen have already caucused on the environmental bill. Time to get moving, Cady.”

  And who else but Bruno would tell you that, you rat, Cady thought, feeling her face twist with anger. She took a deep breath. “All right, I’ll work on him.”

  When she replaced the receiver, her hand shook. She hadn’t realized it was possible for her to feel as much venom against another person.

  Bruno was jealous of Rafe! It was as though a light had gone on in her head. He hated Rafe because of the money and prestige that were Rafe’s and could never be his! She could recall with great clarity the way Bruno had always looked at her husband—that hooded cobra look. Bruno’s great chance had been when Rafe had had the accident. She felt sure now that Bruno would at some time have tried to run for Rafe’s seat, with Emmett’s backing. Bruno hated Rafe now, because he was well and Bruno couldn’t take over his Senate seat. Cady pressed her hands to her mouth, feeling sick.

  When the phone rang again, she jumped, staring at the instrument as though it had turned into a tarantula. “Yes?”

  “Cady? It’s Rob.” His voice seemed to have an excited lift to it. “Cady, I think I hit pay dirt. It seems Greeley has been getting pretty desperate. He has a great deal of his own and his friends’ money riding on the defeat of the environmental bill. He’s really turning on the pressure on the Hill and has tried to put the screws on Emmett Densmore. Emmett balked at that, but it seems that Bruno Trabold is hand in glove with Greeley on this.”

  Cady nodded as she listened, then proceeded to tell Rob what Trock had told her about the meeting of the two men at the Battle of Manassas marker and the pictures he took. She also told him about her conversation with Todd.

  “Ca
dy, I think we’re going to get them on this.” Rob sounded almost gleeful. Then his voice changed. “If Rafe should find out, if somehow your marriage is jeopardized by all this, remember you always have me. I love you, Cady. And I think you could care for me.”

  “Of course I care for you, Rob… ” Cady looked up as the library door swung open. Her husband stood there, his eyes steel-blue and murderous. “Rob, I have to go.”

  “Is it Rafe? Is he there? Cady, will you be all right?”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. Good-bye.” Cady replaced the receiver, not taking her eyes from her husband. “It’s not what you think.”

  “And what do I think?” The quiet menace in Rafe’s voice filled the room. “I said once that I would never keep you if you decided that you wanted to go.” The words fired from his mouth like bullets. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re my wife and I’ll see you and your lover—”

  Cady slapped the leather desk mat in front of her with both hands and jumped to her feet. “I don’t have a lover!”

  “—in hell first. Now you damn well stay away from Rob Ardmore or I’ll go to his office and take him apart in front of the whole House of Representatives.”

  “You… you hooligan! How dare you threaten a congressman! Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?”

  “I’m your husband!” Rafe shouted, anger propelling him further into the room as he threw down his coat and slammed the door in one angry motion.

  “All of a sudden you remember that!” Cady shouted back, wondering why they were doing this again. “What about all those times you left me alone to go to those damn parties? What were you then? A loving husband?”

  “You sent me to parties alone. You refused to accompany me. What did you want me to do?” he grated.

  “I sure didn’t want you acting like the sultan of Washington, going from bed to bed to bed.” Cady’s voice cracked she was so angry.

  “Cady.” Rafe seemed to swell. “How dare you say such a thing to me? I was never unfaithful to you.”

  “Liar!” Cady roared. Then she could have bitten off her tongue, longing to call back that hated word.

  “I never lied to you.” Rafe’s face was the color of putty, his lips rock hard as they formed around the words. He spun on his heel and left the room.

  “Rafe… oh Rafe, don’t go,” Cady whispered as she heard him take the stairs two at a time.

  ———

  Cady had another sleepless night. Twice she rose and went to the door between their rooms, wanting to tell him what happened. Twice she reached the door, leaned against it for a few moments, then retraced her steps to bed.

  The next morning she felt as if she’d just placed last in a marathon. She stumbled out of bed and into the shower. Only when she was gasping and beginning to turn blue did she step out and dry herself. She sighed as she dressed in lavender corduroy jeans and vest and went down for coffee. Hopefully she would hear more from Trock today. She had the uneasy feeling that she couldn’t put Todd off for too long.

  She stopped open-mouthed when she walked into the morning room and saw Rafe still at the table, the paper in front of him, a coffee cup in his hand. He leaned over and filled her cup from the silver pot, then rose to hold out her chair, his face impassive.

  “Sit down, Cady.”

  “I thought you would be gone.”

  “No doubt.” Rafe shook his paper, then lifted the coffee cup to his mouth. “We’re invited to Durra for dinner tonight. I accepted for both of us.” He held up his hand as she glowered at him. “Before you tear into me, let me explain that it’s just the family. It’s not a political gathering of any kind. My father pointed out that we haven’t been to Durra since my recovery. He feels it’s about time we all had dinner as a family.”

  “I see.” She took a sip of the scalding brew, burning her tongue. She reached for the water glass, trying to soothe the pain. “And will Bruno be there?”

  Rafe frowned at her. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “You shouldn’t let Bruno bother you. He has nothing to do with us anymore. Ignore him.”

  “Bruno is rather hard to ignore,” Cady muttered, wishing she could tell Rafe just exactly how hard it was. She had a horror of her husband ever seeing the box of pictures locked away in her file cabinet.

  Rafe pushed his plate aside, making Cady’s brow crease as she noticed how little he had eaten. When he lit one of his cheroots, the crease in her forehead deepened.

  “Trock doesn’t like you smoking those.”

  “Trock—I haven’t seen the man in a couple of days. Where has he been? I looked for him in the gym last night and again this morning.”

  Cady stared at her husband, feeling her neck redden. “I suppose he must have a life of his own.”

  Rafe gazed at her through the curl of smoke. “I suppose. I haven’t seen Graf, either. Did Trock take him along?” He looked down at the sleeping Hobo lying at his feet and missed the start that Cady gave at his words.

  “Ah… he could have. The dog likes to ride in the car.”

  “Yes, I suppose.” He pressed the cheroot, not even half-smoked, into the ashtray and rose to his feet. “So I’ll assume that we’ll be going to Durra?”

  “Ah… yes.”

  “Well, then… have a good day.” Rafe stopped next to her chair.

  Cady looked out the window, afraid if she met Rafe’s eyes she would dissolve into tears, sink to her knees, grab hold of his legs and beg him not to throw her away when he saw the horrible pictures of her. “You have a nice day, too.”

  She heard him smother an oath as he left, and she began to tremble.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cady dressed that evening like a somnambulist. Even the cold shower she had stood under for fifteen minutes didn’t lift her spirits.

  Todd had called her that afternoon. His demands had increased. Now they wanted Rafe to throw his weight behind more defense spending. It hadn’t taken Cady long to see through that ploy, since she knew Emmett and Bruno and their friend Greeley had oil interests in the Middle East and Africa. Speculation drilling on the Dark Continent was expensive, not just the equipment but also the mercenary army they felt they must maintain to protect themselves against insurgents who attacked them at every turn. If they involved the United States government in their quarrels, it would certainly lessen the personal expense. She wanted to scream at Leacock that she knew whom he was working for and what they were after. Somehow she had managed to keep cool and not show her fury at his attempted manipulations. Somehow she had managed to fob him off again with excuses that Rafe had to be handled with kid gloves or he would discover what they were doing and have no compunction about bringing the whole sordid mess into the open.

  Rafe was late coming home that night, but that wasn’t unusual these days. It seemed he spent a great deal of time avoiding her.

  Cady looked in the mirror, surprised to see that she was dressed and had all her makeup on. She studied the deep gold silk dress whose antique finish was only one hue deeper than her hair. With it she decided to wear the amethyst necklace and earring set that Rafe had bought for her when they had returned from their honeymoon twelve long years ago. The settings for the pale purple drop earrings were an antique gold almost the shade of her dress, a sheath with no adornment except its dramatic, almost off-the-shoulder neckline. Her heels were a light tan kid with medium heels and sling backs. She had a change purse in matching kid hanging from a chain. This she slung over her shoulder.

  She stiffened when she heard Rafe moving around in his room. It wasn’t until she could hear the shower that she left her own room and descended to the library. She knew it was childish, but the less she saw Rafe, the less guilt she felt about the pictures and the underhanded methods she, Rob, and Trock were employing to set things right.

  She walked to the hidden bar in the bookcase, pressed the switch, waited for the doors to swing open and the light to come on, then poured herself some Riesling over ice cubes. She was sipping the shar
p wine when the phone rang. The buzzer sounded twice, signaling that it was for her. She picked up the desk phone.

  “Cady? I hope this isn’t a bad time to call, but I’ve discovered something that might help us.”

  “Just a moment, Rob.” Cady set the phone down and closed the door. “There. I won’t be able to talk long. Rafe will be down in a minute. What is it?”

  “The man I have digging into things has come up with a little item that will interest the voters of New York. It seems our friend Bruno Trabold is equal partners with one Silas Greeley—our lobbyist Greeley—on a land deal on the Hudson River. They stand to make a great deal of money if a proposed nuclear power plant is built on said site.”

  “The rat! The double-dyed rat,” Cady muttered into the phone. “That Judas.” She took a deep breath. “I wonder if my father-in-law knows that his fair-haired boy is feathering his own nest.”

  “My informant sees no evidence that Emmett is involved in this, and I asked him specifically if there was a connection.” Rob seemed to be reading from something. “Cady, if you can just hold them off for a few more days, I think we may be able to nail the whole nasty bunch. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to do it without those damn pictures ever having to surface.”

  “I hope so, Rob. Thank you so much for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Cady replaced the phone as her husband pushed the door open wide.

  His face was a gray mask of fury. A muscle jumped under his left eye; his hands clenched and unclenched. “You tell Ardmore for me that if he calls here again, I’ll break his damn neck. And you stay away from him.” His voice was like sandpaper rubbed on slate.

  Cady lifted her chin, hoping her face gave no hint that her insides had turned to jelly. “Rob is a friend of mine— a good friend. If you don’t like my friends calling me here at your home—”