“When do I get to see you again? You always screw and run.”
“Don’t be shallow. You know I love you. We just have to be patient.”
“It would be a lot easier to be patient if I could hold you in my arms, share wine, sit on the veranda every night.”
“Let’s not get into this on the phone.”
“No one is listening, for God’s sake. That scrambler thing…”
“Okay, Jacques… You know, I heard that the gal in your records department has taken up with your new neurologist.” She got him off onto office gossip, which he liked, particularly if it related to women and their lovers. It took about fifteen minutes to establish the connection with the man that she sought.
When she saw the phone light with another incoming call, she got off the line, wishing that Marie could help her with Jacques the way she helped with Chellis. It was Michelle, and she had a disagreeable tone in her voice.
“You know our talking like this is dangerous,” Michelle began.
“Did you get a chance to use the oil?” Benoit asked.
“Why?”
“It’s part of the deal, you don’t have to know why.”
“But if I knew why or what-”
“Did you do it?”
“Yes, and now he’s climbing the walls, he shakes, he won’t talk to me. It’s like he thinks he’s going to die or something.”
“Okay, you can give him the regular stuff later today. I will leave you a message when it’s time for the second rubdown. If you want to see your son, do it my way. Only eight more months and we’ll buy him. That’s the deal.”
Chellis came in and out, wanting news of Jason, and when there was no news he went to the gym to work out She was grateful he didn’t want sex. She was busy. Finally Gaudet called her back.
“I found him.”
“Good,” she said. “Here’s the plan…”
Anna told herself that it would be irrational for Sam to back out of the party. But here it was, 6:57 P.M., and she could imagine him at the office grinning.
She called him on his cell. “Where are you?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not tricking you from a tavern. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
At exactly 7:00 P.M. her doorbell rang and he appeared in her foyer. This was not Sam in the straw hat.
“Breathtaking.” She realized she was smiling too broadly. “Absolutely breathtaking.”
“You aren’t bad yourself,” Sam said. “But to the extent that I’m noteworthy, that is bad.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re my escort. You’re expected to be spectacular.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Don’t worry, the press coverage will be minimal. A couple of publicity shots. Nothing more.
“Let’s go. Before your worry puts a chill on the evening.” She gave him her arm and they walked past the Blue Hades to the waiting limo. She kept talking all the way there, partly out of guilt and partly to avoid more questions about the press.
When they arrived at the studio, it appeared that her press agent had said just a little too much. The journalists were stacked up like the shoe boxes in her closet.
As she slid over to the limo door, Sam asked, “Anna, did you set me up?”
Outside, she took Sam’s arm. To his credit he stood tall and took her through the crowd like John Wayne on a spring morning.
A wall of cameras sparked the night and blackened the sky, and they stepped through them like seraphs passing through diamonds. It was exactly the way she wanted it-upon reflection. Sam could just cope.
“Ho, ho, you nailed me,” he said.
“You like making me happy?” After they passed inside the studio, she turned to him. “Nobody knows who you are. And I intend to keep them in suspense.”
Sam nodded to her. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
Slightly disconcerted at his departure, she moved forward, shaking hands and greeting people.
Anna had sprung a not-so-subtle trap. It amused Sam and troubled him at the same time, and that seemed to be the way with this woman, both on-screen and off. As he walked away from the throng of reporters, a short, aggressive fellow with a determined grip on his green steno pad stopped him.
“Anna is just stunning this evening,” the man said.
“Yes. Well, it’s not my job to notice. I’m just security. But her date is arriving by separate limo. Should be here any second.”
“No kidding. This is straight?”
“Oh, yeah.” Sam took an earpiece out of his inside coat pocket and popped it in his ear, leaving a tiny cord coiled back around his lapel. “Hey, I’ve got to run and check out the crowd.”
But the reporter was already busy telling the guy next to him that Anna’s beau would be arriving any second. Sam heard them guessing celebrity names. After nodding at a few cute girls, he grabbed a glass of sparkling water, gulped it down, and retired to the men’s room, where he took a couple of big drags on a Winston, then, not trusting himself, threw the pack in the garbage.
After a pass through some spectacular food, where he had some exceptional lox but skipped the bagel, he removed the earpiece and found Anna.
“Stick around,” she whispered, nearly gritting her teeth.
He nodded. “Do you have a confession you’d like to make?”
She hesitated, no doubt wondering if he was still bugging her calls. “I just mentioned it to the publicist. That’s all. I told her not to make a big deal.”
“Yes, I can see the press is oblivious.”
“You look so good in that.” She put a hand on his lapel. There was no question that she was letting everyone know what she and her hand thought about the tall guy in the tux. There were no press nearby.
“Be right back,” Sam said as a well-known producer approached.
Sam wandered deliberately through the crowd with his earpiece until Mr. Green Steno approached.
“So where is the boyfriend?”
Sam moved close, giving his best confidential cock of the head. “I can trust you not to reveal the source-right?”
“Absolutely.”
Sam put a doleful look in his eye. “The beau didn’t show.”
He’d planted a medium-sized, second-page headline in the morning news, the way he had it figured.
It turned out to be a big headline, but like a worthy adversary Anna played the good sport and refused to let him see her consternation. Sam wondered if he had made the right move.
He sat in the seat next to her; the eight men accompanying them had spread around the coach-class cabin of the 747.
“Coach is just fine,” Anna said.
“How long since you’ve even been on a commercial flight?” Sam asked.
“I would do it.”
Sam laughed.
“You know I’m fine with it You’re just trying to needle me, and it’s working. Now will you finally tell me who we’re meeting in Fiji?”
“Aussie. Real name is John Hammer. A retired CIA agent. He emigrated to the U.S. from Australia as a young man, became a citizen, and joined the government service. Pacific Rim specialist. When he retired, he integrated into Fijian society pretty successfully, for a white man.”
“I gather he’s good.”
“The best.”
“I want to check on Grady.”
“I already did. She’ll be safe with Spring. They’re staying with my cousin Kier. Nobody but nobody will find her, and if they do they’ll wish they hadn’t.”
“Well, I hope she’s okay. You know, mentally. How awful to be paralyzed and fully conscious.” She shuddered.
“I think that was the point. This guy gets his kicks watching people die by inches.”
“Will he go after Jason directly?”
“It’s you and me they want dead. I’m guessing that’s job one. And that’s not going to happen.”
“I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
“You’re welcome.”
They fell into silence. Sam was mildly surprised that Anna hadn’t asked him about the details of the plan. It seemed proof that the trust between them was near complete, despite their game-playing.