The Beginning (25 page)

“Pranks?”

He gave her a surprised grin, then shook his head. “You haven't known him all that long. You'll see, once you're married, Sally. Maybe even before you're married. I've heard that Quinlan's daddy is just the same. But Quinlan has something his daddy doesn't have.”

“What's that?”

“You,” Marvin Brammer said. He touched his palm lightly to her cheek. “Don't worry, Sally. We'll get your father, and he'll pay for what he's done. Quinlan was talking a mile a minute to bring me up to date. He told me about your father calling you twice and his face appearing in your bedroom window when you were staying at your aunt's house in this small town called The Cove. Of course, he thought it was someone mimicking your father. He said you knew it was your father. And that scared you. He told me he'd never doubt you about anything again. Now, Sally, let's get honest here. It's not only the murder of that unknown man, it's not just what he did to you, although that turns my stomach—it's the dirty dealings he's been pulling for several years now, the arms sales to very bad people. The feds will chew him up for that, and that, naturally, is why we got involved in the first place after his murder. I'm sorry he had to be your father. We believe that's another reason he locked you away in Beadermeyer's sanitarium. He did believe, according to Scott Brainerd, that you had seen some compromising papers. You don't remember seeing any papers that could have implicated your father in the arms dealing?”

She shook her head. “No, really, Mr. Brammer. But you do believe this was one of the reasons my father had me admitted to Dr. Beadermeyer's sanitarium?”

“It sounds probable. The other thing—the revenge angle—it seems reasonable, but frankly I don't think it's enough of a motive in itself. No, I think it was a bunch of things, but primarily that he knew Scott was losing you, and thus he, Amory St. John, was losing control. And he believed you'd seen some incriminating papers about the arms deals. There's more than enough there, Sally. What was uppermost in your father's mind? I don't know. We'll never know.”

“You don't know how much he hated me. I'll bet even my mother believes it's enough of a motive.”

“We'll find out when we catch him,” Marvin Brammer said. “Then we'll make him pay. I'm sure sorry about all this, Sally. Not much of a decent childhood for you, but there's rottenness in some people, and that's just the way it is.”

“What will happen to Dr. Beadermeyer?”

“Ah, Norman Lipsy. If only we'd thought to put Savich on him earlier. That man can make a computer tap-dance. We all laugh that he's not a loner like Quinlan because he's always got his computer tucked under his arm, a modem wrapped around his neck like a stethoscope. He can get into any system on the planet. He's amazing. We kid him that he sleeps with the bloody thing. I think that even if someone gave him a turn-of-the-century telephone, he could invent a modem that would work. Agents in the bureau don't have partners like cops do, but Quinlan and Savich, well, they always do well together.

“Good Lord, why'd I get off on that? You wanted to know about Norman Lipsy. He'll go to jail for a very long time. Don't spend any time worrying about him. He refused to say a thing. Said that Holland was a moron and a liar. But it doesn't matter. We've got the goods on him.”

She shivered, her arms wrapped around herself. He wanted to comfort her somehow, but he didn't know what to do.

He said, “Believe me, Lipsy is going down hard. We don't as yet know all the people he's holding there against their will. Our people will interview each one, look at each one's file, speak to all the relatives. It'll shake out soon enough. I think when it's all over, lots of very rich, very famous folk aren't going to be happy.

“Also, Lipsy's an accessory to murder. He's gone for good, Sally. No need for you to worry about him.”

What had that man done to her? He couldn't imagine. He really didn't want to be able to.

When Quinlan walked up, his eyes alight with pleasure at the sight of Sally, all skinny and pale, her hair mussed, her eyes bright at the sight of him, Marvin Brammer wandered back into his office thinking he couldn't remember the last time he'd talked so much.

She would pry every secret out of Quinlan and he wouldn't even know what she was doing. Better yet, she didn't even realize the effect she had on people.

Good thing she wasn't a spy; they'd all be in deep shit. He was also mighty relieved her mama hadn't been in on the nastiness.

Quinlan brought her home to his apartment, to his bedroom, to his bed, and now he was holding her, lightly stroking his hand up and down her back.

She was so very thin. He could feel her pelvic bones, the thinness of her arms through her nightgown. He had the urge to phone out for Chinese food—lots of sugar in Szechwan beef and pot stickers—but he decided he'd rather be doing what he was doing. Besides, he'd already stuffed her to the gills with spaghetti, lots of Parmesan on top, and hot garlic bread that wasn't nearly as good as Martha's.

“James?”

“You're supposed to be asleep.”

“Mr. Brammer was very nice to me. He told me a thing or two about you, too.”

Quinlan stared at her. “You're kidding. Brammer is the biggest closedmouth in the FBI. If they gave awards for it, he'd win hands down.”

“Not tonight. Maybe he was tired or excited, like you were. Yep, he told me lots of things.”

This was interesting. Quinlan cleared his throat against her hair. “Um, was all he talked about—it was all the case and the players?”

“Most of it, but not all.” He felt her fingers playing over his bicep. He instantly flexed the muscle. A man, he thought, he was just a man who wanted his woman to know he was strong. He nearly laughed aloud at himself.

“What was the ‘not all'?”

“You. He told me about you and your father and Savich.”

“You'll like my old man. He's a kick. He had a heart attack last year but he seems okay now, thank God. He makes you so mad you want to punch his lights out, and then in the next second you're clutching your stomach, you're laughing so hard.”

“A lot like you. That's what Mr. Brammer said.”

She was caressing his bicep again. He flexed again. A man was a man. He guessed there was no getting away from it.

“He also said that you liked to play a lone hand but that he always knew what you were doing even if you would swear he didn't know a thing.”

“I wouldn't doubt it, that old con man. He's got moles everywhere.”

“Maybe now he's got a mole who's living with you.”

“That's okay,” Quinlan said and kissed her.

She was soft and giving, but she wasn't with him, not yet, and he couldn't blame her at all for that. He said against her warm mouth, “There's only your father left, Sally. We'll get him. He won't get away. There'll be a huge scandal, a big trial. Can you deal with that?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice suddenly very cold and hard. “I can't wait, actually. I want to face him down. I want to tell the world how he beat his wife. I want to tell the world what he did to me. James?”

“Yeah?”

“Was there another woman in my father's life? Someone he was going to leave the country with?”

“Not that we know of, but that's a good thought. We'll have to keep an eye on it. It's early, very early. As I said, we have people going through every scrap of paper in your father's house and at his office. Everything will be scrutinized.

“You ain't seen scrutiny until you've seen the FBI do it. As for our Norman Lipsy, the cosmetic surgeon, he won't be going anywhere even with the best lawyers he can buy. He'll be questioned by agents until at least next Wednesday. It doesn't mean a thing that he hasn't talked yet. He will. Already they've found more than enough evidence to convict him on innumerable counts—kidnapping, collusion, conspiracy, that's the beginning. Now, Sally, you're still withdrawn from me. What is it? What's going on?”

“James, what if I was wrong? What if I was still drugged up so that I saw things that weren't really there? What if it wasn't my father running out those French doors? What if it was someone else? What if I didn't see anybody? What if I did shoot him and all the rest—well, it's games being played in my mind.”

“Nah,” he said and kissed her again. “Not in a million years. If there's one thing I know, it's crazy. You aren't crazy. I'll bet you don't even get PMS.”

She hit his arm—he flexed the muscle—and she giggled.

“Now that's a wonderful sound. Forget all that crazy stuff, Sally. You saw your father. There's not one single doubt in my mind or in Brammer's mind or in Savich's or, I'll bet, in Ms. Lilly's, when we tell her.

“Your father must have stopped, seen you throw that prized pistol of his away and gone back to get it. That in itself is convincing, don't you see? If he didn't go back for the gun, then where is it? When we find him I'll bet you a Mexican meal at Taco Charlie's that he's got that Roth-Steyr.”

She leaned up and kissed his mouth. “Goodness, I hope so. You were so sure I'd remember.”

“I prayed harder than I did when I was seventeen and afraid Melinda Herndon might be pregnant.”

“I'm so glad I didn't shoot him, regardless of the fact that I would have liked to. I wonder where he is.”

“We'll find him. His passport's still here. The agents had Noelle go through his safe at home and his safety-deposit boxes. He could have had another passport made, that's always possible. They found some bankbooks from the Caymans and Switzerland. We'll get him. It won't take long.”

She was quiet, utterly still against him. He liked to feel her push against him, he liked her touching him. He was still on an adrenaline high, but she had to be exhausted. She'd been through quite an experience. He sighed. He settled for a light kiss on her mouth. “You ready to sleep now?”

“I have this feeling, James,” she said slowly, her breath warm against his neck. “It's weird and I can't explain it, but I don't think he's gone anywhere. That is, I don't think he's left the country. He's here, somewhere. I just don't know where. We don't have a beach house or a mountain cabin that I know of.”

“That's interesting. We'll ask Noelle tomorrow. Now come on, Sally, I'm supposed to be the one with the famous intuition, the hyper gut instinct. You trying to show me up?”

Quinlan shifted his weight. He was still wearing his pants and shirt. He wished he wasn't wearing anything. Sally was in one of her new nightgowns, a cotton thing that came nearly up to her chin and went down to her ankles. He wished she wasn't wearing anything either. He sighed and kissed her right ear.

He wished all the adrenaline in his body would clear out. He was high and horny. To distract himself, he said, “I forgot to tell you. I got a call from David Mountebank—you remember the sheriff, don't you?”

“He's very nice. He took care of you.” He felt her fingertips lightly touch where the stitches had been in his head. “Hardly even a ridge now.”

“Yes, well, he still hasn't got a clue about the two murders, and yes, Doc Spiver was murdered, no doubt about it. He wants FBI help, officially, and he'll get it since we're talking about interstate shenanigans. He's convinced everybody that the older couple—Harve and Marge Jensen—were killed around there and that all the other missing folks are linked together as well. There'll be agents from the Portland office, and I'll be there from the Washington office. They'll crawl all over that damned town.”

She was kissing his neck, her fingers lightly tugging on his chest hair. He said slowly, “I'm going, Sally. And yes, Brammer knows I'm going. He thinks it's a good idea. He wants me to talk to Amabel. We all want to know how she fits into all this. And, believe me, she's got to fit in somewhere. I think you should consider coming with me, Sally.”

He had weighed the danger of her being in that small little town on the Oregon coast against the danger of her remaining here, without him, her father still at large. No, he wanted her with him. It was the only way he could protect her. There'd be enough agents hanging around The Cove, no one would have a chance of hurting her.

“How could she be involved, James? She loves me, doesn't she? She took me in. She—”

“Don't turn blind on me now. She's involved. When she told David and me how you would probably run because you were scared, well, then I was as sure as I could be that she was involved. How deeply, we'll find out.”

“I've got my mother back now. I'd sure like to have Aunt Amabel, too. I'm praying really hard that she isn't involved.”

“Not only do you have your mama back, you've got me, and you'll never lose me, I swear it. And you'll have all my family. They're obnoxious, loving pains in the butt, all in all a great family. Now, if Amabel is somehow involved with all this, we'll deal with it, you and I together.”

He felt her palm slide down his chest, felt her fingers slip inside his shirt to caress him. He nearly bowed off the bed. No, she was exhausted, he couldn't let her do this, not now, not tonight.

He'd made up his mind. No way was he going to rush her on this. He shook his head and said, “Sally, are you certain?”

“Oh, yes,” she said and kissed his chest. “Let me get this shirt off you, James.”

He laughed. He was still laughing when her mouth was on his belly. Then he moaned and jerked with the power of it. He didn't think he'd ever stop moaning, stop wanting, until he was deep inside her. That was what he wanted more than anything, for her to accept him completely, to love him, to shout it to him, and to the world.

And when he was deep inside of her, he knew it was right, better than right. She was his lifeblood, his future. It was about the best thing he'd ever managed in his life.

She whispered against his chest, “I love you, James.” He was shaking, heaving over her like a wild man, but she was just as wild, and that made him even wilder.

A man, he thought just before he shattered, a man needed to belong as much as a woman. A man needed to be desired, to be cherished, as much as a woman.

When she bit his neck, then cried out, he knew everything would be fine. “I love you, too,” he said, his breath warm in her open mouth.

Life, he thought, on the edge of sleep, was weird. He'd gone to The Cove to find a crazy woman who could have murdered her father.

Instead he'd found Sally.

Actually, life was dandy.