Silent Partner Part 18

"About what?"

Sam backed Angela gently against a wall just inside the door, then moved back a step to rea.s.sure her. Keeping his distance for the moment. "We never talk."

"That would be because you divorced me."

Sam shook his head. "My father did that to us. You know that."

"Yes, just the way he made you get into bed with that other woman."

"That was terrible, Angie," Sam admitted, sliding his forefinger beneath her chin and tilting her head back. "I'm guilty as charged there. I was very immature back then. I wish I could take it all back."

Angela looked away. "I met Caroline."

"Oh?"

"She greeted me at the front door."

"You mean she actually opened the front door?" Sam asked sarcastically. "She actually lifted a finger?"

"Yes. Why?"

He laughed. "She must have been going past the door just as you rang the bell."

"That's right. That's what she said."

"Figures. Caroline certainly wouldn't go out of her way to do that-or anything else around here, for that matter." Sam put a hand to his head. "No, wait. I take that back. She might move quickly if it were toward the limousine and an afternoon of shopping."

"She said she was going upstairs to get ready to go out with you tonight."

Sam groaned. "Don't remind me. We've got to go to some d.a.m.n museum opening to cut a ribbon. Then there will be the requisite party afterward and a night of all the same people and all the same conversations."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic."

"It'll be awful." Sam sighed. "But Caroline will be happy. And that's what's important," he said nodding gravely, then breaking into a smile.

"Poor baby." Angela patted his chest then made a move back toward the pool. "I feel so bad for you. You lead such a difficult life."

"Hey, why are you leaving?" he asked, snagging her wrist again.

"Because you need to start getting ready for your museum party."

"I bet I could think of a more exciting way to spend the evening."

Angela had seen that look on Sam's face many times. His eyes were aflame with l.u.s.t. "I'm sure you could," she said, surprising herself.

s.e.x with Sam had been incredible from the first time they'd been together. No initial period of awkwardness as they'd gotten to know each other, as there had been with her only other lover, a boy in college. No having to show Sam her special wants. He'd found them himself so effectively and efficiently she'd bitten his shoulder to keep from screaming. She'd left deep and purple marks, and he'd pointed at them proudly the next morning as proof that she'd experienced intense pleasure.

And it wasn't just the physical part of the act that had brought about such incredible pleasure. As Sam had slowly and tantalizingly investigated her body that first night, he had whispered to her, too, gently probing her mind as well. The college boy had been too inexperienced to understand the psychological component of her need, and turned selfish when satisfying her became too much of a ch.o.r.e. She'd accepted it by making him believe he was satisfying her when he wasn't. That had never been an issue with Sam. Not once had she ever had to fake anything with him.

Sam had made her feel as she was convinced she never could, even during their initial encounter. And it had only become better over time. He explored her fantasies and desires, coaxing her into telling him her most private thoughts. She'd become physically addicted to him, in so absolute a way that her body had actually ached for months after the divorce. Now she simply tried to ignore those urges. She hadn't been with anyone since the divorce, hadn't even been tempted because she was certain the experience would be so disappointing.

"What did you think of Caroline?" Sam asked, moving close.

"She seemed nice."

"She isn't. She was being her usual plastic self, I can a.s.sure you. But that's not what I was talking about."

"Oh?" Sam ran his finger up her forearm and the feeling raced through her body, the fire spreading even as she tried desperately to throw water on the flames. "Whatwere you talking about?"

"What did you think of her physically?"

"She's attractive."

"She's plain," Sam said. "Not like you."

"Well, I-"

"You are so beautiful." He bent down so they were on the same level, searching her expression. "Those eyes of yours," he said softly. "They're like magnets to men."

Angela looked down.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked.

"No."

He put his finger back beneath her chin and lifted it again, forcing her to look at him this time. "Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes."

"No woman has ever come close to you, Angie."

She ought to hate him for what he had done, and on a rational level she did. But on a deeper plane she couldn't. "Which is, of course, why you felt you needed to cheat on me."

"I said I was sorry for that."

"I don't care about sorry. Sorry doesn't help me."

"You have your skeletons too."

Angela's eyes flashed to his. "You know none of that was true," she said, tight-lipped. "You know your father was responsible for all of that. I was never with either of those men."

There was a long silence. "Let's start seeing each other again," Sam finally suggested.

"No. Not in a million years."

"Why not?"

"For starters, let's try the fact that you're married. I don't do-"

"I don't mean in that way," he interrupted.

She hesitated. "Then what are you talking about?"

"At some point Hunter is going to start asking questions about what happened to us. In fact, he already has. It would be much better for him as he gets older if you and I had a healthier relations.h.i.+p. Don't you think?"

"Maybe," she said slowly. This was just like Sam to throw her a curveball. She'd thought he was trying to seduce her, but he was talking about something platonic. So why was there that twinge of disappointment?

"I see you in Hunter so much, Angie." Sam's voice was subdued. "The way he walks and smiles. That att.i.tude of his. It's all you, Angie. It brings back lots of wonderful memories, I have to admit."

Angela swallowed hard. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's have lunch sometime. It'll have to be somewhere out of the way. I hope you can understand why. I can't have an innocent lunch getting into the newspapers and being misconstrued, you know?"

She nodded.

"But I can be a good boy. I can keep my hands to myself."

How could he have sat there in that courtroom and watched those men testify about having s.e.x with her? If he truly loved her, how could he have allowed them to say the things they'd said? Could he really have believed their stories? "Sam, I-"

"Are you game for it, Angie? Just lunch. Maybe next week. I'll call you at work one day and we'll set it up. You know it would be fun."

That was the problem. Itwould be fun. And, despite his promises, the odds were very good that he'd try to turn it into something more. "I don't know."

"I do. I'm going to call you. I'm going to set it up for-"

"h.e.l.lo, Angela."

Sam and Angela glanced toward the doorway at the same time. Chuck Reese stood there, peering at his son's fingers wrapped around Angela's wrist.

"What are you doing here?" the elder Reese demanded.

"She's here to pick up Hunter, Dad," Sam explained.

"I see." He took Angela's hand and pulled it away from Sam's. "Son, Bill Morris called a few minutes ago about that property in Atlanta," Chuck Reese informed Sam, handing his son a cordless phone. "He's anxious to talk to you."

Sam managed the family money. He'd never had any other job. "I'll call him in a little while, Dad."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd get back to him right away. As I said, he was anxious to talk to you."

Slowly, Sam took the phone from his father. "All right."

"I can't remember Bill's number. You'll need to go back to the house to get it. It's on the Rolodex in the study. Say good-bye to Angela."

"I'll be going myself," she said quickly.

"I'd like to speak to you for a moment," Chuck Reese said, blocking her way to the door as Sam headed out. "This won't take long. Promise."

"Bye, Angie."

Then Sam was gone and she was alone with Chuck Reese. "Mr. Reese, I'm not comfortable-"

"How much will it take, Angela?" he growled, his demeanor turning confrontational.

"Take? How much willwhat take?"

"Let me say this as politely as possible. I'm tired of seeing you. Tired of having to deal with you. I want you out of my family for good. I want you out of Hunter's life, and I want you out of Sam's life. I know what was going on here when I walked in. I know my son. G.o.d help me, I love Sam, but he has a very hard time controlling himself. He seems to only want what isn't his. I'm just looking out for him, and for Hunter. It'll be best for both of them not to see you anymore. It's best that I take care of them without any influence from you." Reese drew a long breath. "There will have to be consideration for you. I understand that."

Angela stared up at Chuck Reese, unable to believe what she had heard. "You are the most despicable-"

"How much, Angela?" he asked again, a determined tone in his voice. "What's it going to take? Let's start at five hundred thousand in cash. How about that?"

"You would try to buy me?" she asked incredulously. "To buy out my ability to see my son? I'm his mother, for G.o.d's sake. He needs me."

"All right amillion dollars. I can have it to you tomorrow along with a contract that you will sign agreeing to give up all rights to Hunter."

Angela stared at Chuck Reese, hatred coursing through her body. His face blurring before her. "You are the most disgusting man I've ever known," she hissed, pus.h.i.+ng past him. At the doorway she stopped and turned back, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You will never be able to buy me off. Not for a million, not for ten million," she said, shaking her head. "I hope you burn in h.e.l.l."

As she walked quickly along the deck toward the stairway and the underground pa.s.sage, she could hear him laughing from inside the room. She began to run.

John Tucker nodded to the armed guards posted on the wide porch before the farmhouse's front door. He had also nodded in the same way to the two men at the end of the farmhouse's long driveway, and to the two men halfway down the driveway. Colby was taking absolutely no chances with Lawrence's safety on this trip.

Once inside the house, Tucker moved quickly along the dimly lit hallway toward the bas.e.m.e.nt door. He was thinking back on the fear he'd detected in Angela Day's eyes a little over an hour ago. The dread that had settled into her expression like a palm print in setting cement.

The hall door creaked when it swung open, as did the second step of the rickety bas.e.m.e.nt stairway under Tucker's weight. The m.u.f.fled groans were becoming louder, and he took the last four steps in a single leap, then hustled toward the closed door at one end of the dank bas.e.m.e.nt.

"What the h.e.l.l's going on here?" he roared, bursting into the small room.

The man they had apprehended on the lawn across from Angela's apartment was still hanging from a thick beam, chin on his chest. One of Colby's men stood close to the prisoner, a lit cigarette in his fingers. Tucker knew that Colby didn't allow any of his men to smoke or drink. They were in top physical condition, and would have been terminated immediately for violating the rules. The cigarette had another, darker purpose.

"I'm following orders," said the crew cut young man.

Tucker had been introduced to the detail as a "special a.s.sistant" to Jake Lawrence on this trip. But during the briefing in Wyoming, Colby had made certain his men understood that Tucker had no authority over them.

The prisoner was naked from the waist up, and Tucker spotted two burn marks-one on the back of the neck, and one on the left shoulder blade. "That'll be all, son."

"I take my orders from Mr. Colby."

Tucker moved a step closer, confident he could overpower the smaller man if necessary. "That will be all," he repeated loudly.

"I'm not going any-"

"Leave us," Colby ordered, striding into the room past Tucker and nodding at the young man. "Now."

"Yes, sir." The man quickly exited the room.

"I thought we agreed that this guy had nothing to tell us," Tucker said when the guard was gone. "What's the deal here?"

Colby moved close, so that their faces were just inches apart. "Why do you care so much, John?"