Texas fury (14 page)

Amelia showered while the coffee perked. Decaffeinated, on doctor's orders. Only for herself: for Cary she brewed a master blend that she ordered from a specialty shop. Once in a while she sneaked a cup just so she wouldn't forget what real coffee tasted like. She was on her second cup when she placed the call to Cary in New York. She talked aloud, first, to the empty breakfast nook so her unused morning voice would sound natural when Cary got on the line.

"Amelia! What a wonderful way to wake up and start the

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day. There isn't anything wrong, is there, darling?"

"Of course not." She explained about the fur jacket. Cary said he agreed.

"How did you sleep, sweetheart?"

"Like a log," Amelia lied in a light tone. "How about you?"

"Like a log," Cary lied in a matching tone.

"What's on for today?" Amelia asked.

"I'm going to sit in on the meetings again to see if there's something I missed yesterday. I have nothing else to do. I really should come home, Amelia."

"And leave Julie alone on her birthday? Absolutely not. Billie and Thad would never forgive us. Wine and dine her like you used to wine and dine me when we were courting. I love that word 'courting,' don't you?"

"Amelia, when it comes to you, I have total recall. I haven't forgotten a thing about us. Someday I'm going to write my memoirs."

Someday. Far into the future. She wouldn't be here then. People didn't write their memoirs until they were old and wanted to leave something behind. It would be a long time before Cary was old. And Cary could father a child any time. The thought was so devastating she almost fainted. "Darling, that's a wonderful idea! Make sure I'm on page one. I have to run, darling. Busy day today." She smacked her lips as a kiss, and she could hear Cary do the same before she hung up the phone. Her hands were shaking badly; she jammed them into the pockets of her robe. "Think only HCFA," she muttered over and over as she dressed.

Amelia examined her face in the mirror. Her image seemed vague, distorted. Not whole. Was that because part of her life force, Cary, was slipping away from her? Think HCFA. Her image remained the same, vague, distorted, incomplete.

Her steps dragged as she walked around the luxurious condominium turning off lights, making sure the coffee pot was unplugged, the radio off, the balcony doors locked. Cary always chided her about locking a thirty-fifth-floor sliding door. The pedestal with the sundial, another gift from Cary, caught her eye. She slid open the door and walked out into the early morning, touched the sundial. The symbol of eternal life, the spirit of eternal love. Browning's tender words loomed up at her. "Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be." It was a lie. She'd already had the best. There was no

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more. It was one of Cary's first gifts, and it had made her weep with happiness. It was probably the one she cherished more than any other. She wondered what would happen to it when she died. Grow old along with me. Well, by God, she had certainly done that! The only problem was Cary hadn't grown old along with her. How could he? Did he think he'd been robbed of the best? She wished she had the guts to ask him. The best is yet to be. "Yes, my darling, for you the best is yet to come," Amelia whispered in a choked voice.

Julie Kingsley munched on a bran muffin in between sips of coffee. She hadn't slept well, and that was unusual. Normally she could sleep through a five-alarm fire. Last night she'd lain awake listening to New York traffic, sirens, and what sounded like a mouse scurrying about the apartment. This morning the mirror warned her that sleep was essential. The shadows under her eyes were too visible.

Nervousness was not a trait of hers, but this morning she was jumpy, just short of irritable. Possibly from lack of sleep. Certainly not from the caffeine in her one cup of coffee.

She put a name to her feeling as she rummaged in the closet for her umbrella. Cary Assante. It had been a pleasant evening. He hadn't laughed at her when she showed him her videotape of Puff the Magic Dragon. He'd enjoyed watching it as much as she had. He'd chuckled when she repeated the dialogue ahead of the cartoon figures.

Cary was going to call her today and they were to have dinner. "No," she all but shouted. "No, I can't do that. Tomorrow is different; that's my birthday and I accepted his invitation. But not tonight." That would make it three days in a row, but... how nice he was. She could feel the pulse in her throat start to hammer. There was no point in looking for trouble.

Without a second thought she walked to the kitchen phone and called her boss at home. "Eleanor, I was wondering if you'd found anyone to go to White Plains to work on the catalog. If you haven't, I'll be glad to do it. I can get the next train out and catch up on my own work over the weekend, since I have nothing planned." She listened to the sleepy voice on the other end of the line. "I don't mind, Eleanor. I have nothing planned for this evening, and really, I'd like the chance to do the layout for this catalog. Do I sound like I care if I don't get back till midnight?" She listened again. "Well, if

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you insist, I'll take a limo back." She copied down the number of the limo service. "Okay, I have it. I'll see you tomorrow." She sighed so loudly she startled herself.

Her blunt fingers, the nails clipped short, punched out a second set of numbers. Breathlessly, she announced herself to the answering service and left her message. Miss Kingsley will be out of town on business and won't be back till tomorrow. She can't be reached. When Julie hung up the phone, she felt weak in the knees. She gulped the rest of the coffee. Platonic family birthdays were one thing; intimate dinners were something else. She loved the Colemans and wouldn't single out any of them for special attention. The fact that Cary's name was Assante didn't enter her mind.

She thought she would feel better, relieved somehow, when she left the apartment, but she didn't. Loss of sleep was a real killer.

iiUUUi CHAPTER FIVE W)))W

Thad Kingsley rocked complacently in one of the rocking chairs Billie had arranged by the fire. A big old yellow cat that had come with the rented house in Georgetown purred contentedly. Thad watched it with disdain. He was a dog person, and so was Billie. They tolerated the feline, feeding it and changing its litter box regularly, but for the most part, the cat with the plumed tail ignored them both.

It was comfortable here in Georgetown, even though Billie detested the constant nights out and the reciprocal invitations. She called it the Washington fishbowl. Thad laughed, but not with amusement, when Billie told him only a quarter of the deals and decision making went on in the Capitol Hill cloakroom. The other three quarters went on over tea and bridge. Billie likened the women to sharks and barracuda. Late at night, when she and Thad were snuggled in bed, she'd entertain him with tales of the women and their devious plans to get into the limelight.

He'd had enough of politics. Secretly he believed he was the only member of the Senate who hadn't compromised him-

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self. Possibly there were others, but he didn't know them. This was his last term. The rest of his life was his own. Thirty years to the navy, two terms in the House, and another two in the Senate was enough to give to one's country.

Billie deserved more of his time. They'd take trips, walk around the farm, take the truck and go into town for a shopping spree, and just hang out with the dogs. They both had some good years left, and by God, if he had anything to say about it, they were going to be spent together. He was going to stick to Billie like a leaf to a branch. Jesus, he loved that woman, but right now that woman was all wrought up about something, and they were going to have to talk it out.

Billie walked into the den carrying two homemade banana splits. The mound of cream and the cherry perched on top made his mouth water. It was their Friday night special treat. "Are we saying the hell with our waistlines again this week?" Thad chuckled as he licked his lips.

"Mine is only a half inch bigger than it was the day you married me," Billie said. "Yours, however, is two inches bigger. Don't try to fool me, Thad; you let your belt out two notches." She grinned.

"That's a testimonial to your culinary expertise," Thad said, digging into the luscious cream and then raising the spoon aloft. "Here's looking at you, kid!"

Billie giggled. "If I were you, Senator, I'd eat that in a hurry. That crazy cat is licking her chops. She looks like she's ready to spring."

They ate their treat, savoring it as they watched Ted Kop-pel's late-night news program. Another of their treats. Friday night was always a late night. Saturday mornings were for sleeping late and slow, wonderful sex.

"I think you're wrong, Thad. Ted is wearing a toupee."

"Wrong." This was their standard weekly argument. "Look at the part. It's his hair. He's one of the lucky ones." Thad ran his hands over his own receding hairline.

"Nobody's hair looks the same day after day, week after week," Billie said. "Once in a while the barber makes a mistake."

"Maybe he trims it himself?"

"It's a toupee," Billie insisted.

"Is not. It's real!"

"Why don't you ask the boys in the cloakroom? They're supposed to know everything," Billie teased. "Wig."

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"Wrong! His own hair! And now that we've finished our Friday night ritual, Billie, let's talk about what's really bothering you. You didn't make a mistake when you turned over the oil end of Coleman Enterprises to Riley. We talked about it till we were hoarse. It's not Riley that's the problem, it's OPEC. I'm sure Riley can handle it if anyone can. He's working hard, and we're all behind him."

Billie leaned into the crook of Thad's arm. "Thad, I don't want Riley to make Coleman Oil his life. I don't want him to be ... to be like Moss. I want him to have a life apart from this family."

"Riley will do what he has to do. The men and the company respect him. He's not a kid anymore, Billie. I heard Sawyer tell you he's brought in every expert in the country." He paused. "I think something else is bothering you, Billie."

Billie's voice was barely audible when she spoke. "Do you think it has anything to do with . .. with the Buckalews?"

There it was, out in the open. It was Thad's hunch that there was more to the Buckalews than anyone let on. And it wasn't Tess and her astrological forecasts. Lacey. Cole's old girlfriend, Riley's new girlfriend. It was his opinion, and he'd cut out his tongue before he'd voice it, that Lacey Buckalew was trash. Designer trash, but trash nonetheless.

Thad chose his words carefully. "Riley said Oakes has been steering him in the right direction. Perhaps he's relying too heavily on his future father-in-law. Oakes has been in the oil business all his life, but that doesn't mean he knows everything. I think Oakes, Coots if you will, has been slugging away at Riley about the Enhanced Oil Recovery Program. Riley wanted to get into it sooner, but Coots talked him out of it. Just the way Riley tried to talk him out of closing down his strippers. Cole told me Riley was sorry he'd listened to Coots. Cole didn't want to tell me that, but I badgered him and told him it would go no farther than you. Let's leave it to Cole and Riley to run the business and deal with the Buckalews. If they need our help, they'll ask."

"Before or after we lose Coleman Oil? It could destroy the family, Thad."

"Don't you think Riley knows that? He's under a tremendous amount of pressure. His grandfather is terminally ill. He's torn. If he has made some fatal errors, the Japanese in him will demand he make it right. The American in him is

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tearing him apart that he can't go back to Japan to be with his grandfather. A rock and a hard place, Billie."

"Let him have his head and hope for the best; is that what you're saying?"

Thad puffed on his pipe. "Pretty much so, honey."

"What if we go under? What happens to all the people that work for us? Their families, what about their families?"

"We do the best we can. The Colemans know how to fight."

"I think it's time we went to Texas to talk to Riley and Cole. I'll drop by and see Tess on some pretext, make a few phone calls, commission a few charts. See what I can dig up."

Thad pretended mock horror. "Is this the same Billie Ames Coleman Kingsley who can't abide the wheeling and dealing that goes on in Washington?"

"You call it whatever you want. In Texas we call it palavering. I was never very good at it, but I'm going to learn now. When can we leave?"

"I thought you said you wouldn't interfere in company policy or tell anyone what to do? How about this Saturday?"

"We aren't interfering, we're helping. There is a difference. Saturday's fine. Thank you, Thad. Now I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"Is this why you've been tossing and turning? Why didn't you say something, Billie?"

"Thad, you have enough on your mind. I promised you when we got married that I wouldn't let the Colemans interfere with our marriage. I've tried to keep that promise."

"Darling, your family is my family. I love all of them. Surely you know I'd do anything I could to help. All you have to do is ask. I thought you didn't want me to stick my nose in."

"Thad, we aren't communicating here. This is the first time in all the years since we've been married that neither of us knows what the other is thinking and planning. Good lord, how did this happen?"

"It's that stupid cat we were saddled with," Thad said with a grin on his face. "I can't think clearly when I have to clean a litter box, and then there's this other problem of Ted Koppel's hair that keeps bugging me. Who can think clearly with momentous problems like that hanging over him?"

Billie doubled over laughing. Thad always made everything right. No matter how bad things were, he always put

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them in perspective. "You're absolutely right, darling." She pressed the remote control button, cutting Ted Koppel off in midsentence. "Obviously it's a wig."

"Nope. Real head of hair." Thad grinned. "Tell you what, I'll put the dishes in the sink and you lock up. Don't forget to leave the night-light on for the cat, and tell it good night, like the owner suggested."