After Midnight (25 page)

Cortez chuckled, but he didn't answer the question. He held out his hand. “Good luck with the media. I hope they give you the same coverage now that they gave you when you were supposed to be a bad guy.”

“Are you kidding?” Kane asked cynically. “They'll apologize on the classified page. But my family will attack them on the front page.” He grinned wistfully. “There are times, mind you, when I don't mind having a father who publishes a tabloid.”

“I can understand why.”

“Who are you?” Kane asked with an amused smile.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure.”

Cortez reached in his pocket and handed him a small battery. “I'm the Energizer Bunny.” He grinned and walked out, leaving Kane no wiser than before.

 

Derrie was sitting in the outer office of Sam Hewett's headquarters when Nikki walked in the door.

“A spy, a spy!” Derrie exclaimed dramatically, pointing a finger at the newcomer.

“Oh, shut up,” Nikki said pleasantly. “As one campaign manager to another, let bygones be bygones. The voters will pick the best man.”

“Thank you,” Sam Hewett said with a grin as he joined Derrie and Nikki, with the other campaign workers chuckling before they went eagerly back to work.

“You haven't won yet, Mr. Hewett,” Nikki said, smiling as she shook hands with him. “But you're a nice man to fight. You're a clean hitter. No low blows.”

“I wish I could say the same for your brother,” Sam replied quietly. “But I haven't forgotten the way he attacked Norman's brother Kane.”

“I can tell you truthfully that you've seen the
last of the sneak attacks,” she said, noticing that Curt Morgan was paying a lot of covert attention to the conversation.

“I do hope so.”

“Can you spare Derrie for lunch?” Nikki asked. “I really need to talk to her.”

“Certainly. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

The two women left. Curt was frowning, but he made no attempt to follow them.

“Curt is up to something,” Nikki said.

“Oh, I know that,” Derrie replied. “He's Senator Torrance's man. But he isn't spying on us to hurt Clay. In fact,” she added with a grin, “I'm pretty sure that he's found a way to help.”

“I know he has. Mosby came to see me. He left me some documents for Clay.”

Derrie stopped walking. “Did you give them to Clay?”

“Yes, about ten minutes ago. He looked at them and gave a whoop and took off out the door.”

“Good for him. I hope he nails Haralson to the wall.”

“What's going on?” Nikki asked pointedly.

“I'm not quite sure,” Derrie said, “except that Mr. Haralson has made a lot of people very angry. Fred Lombard went racing out of here early this morning, grinning from ear to ear. Whatever it is, I think most people know except us.”

“Mushrooms. We're mushrooms.”

“Why?” Derrie asked curiously.

“Because they keep us in the dark and feed us….”

“…don't say it!”

Nikki chuckled. She linked her arm through Derrie's. “Let's have lunch. Then I want to ask you to supper tomorrow night.”

“I won't come and eat with Clayton and Bett,” Derrie said firmly.

“My dear, Bett is on her way to becoming yesterday's news.”

“I don't understand.”

“You will, sooner than you think. How about Chez Louie?”

“That's fine,” Derrie said. She stared at Nikki, but the other woman wasn't saying another word.

 

Bett glared at Clayton from across the desk. “What do you mean, I'm fired?”

“Just what I said,” he told her. “I fired Haralson. Now I'm firing you.”

She smiled coolly. “You can't fire me, dear man. What Haralson knows, I know. If you try to remove me, I'll tell everybody about Nikki and Kane. I'll tell everybody about Mosby, too.”

Clayton moved around the desk and sat down, propping his legs across it. “Do go ahead,” he invited. “I'm sure it will make great reading.”

“Well, I will,” she said, shaken. “I mean, it will damage you. It will certainly damage Nikki. And it will probably destroy Mosby's entire career. He might even commit suicide.”

He shook his head. “Mosby's far too fastidious. He wouldn't want to get blood over a suit he paid several hundred dollars for.”

“Several thousand,” she stated.

“I never said he was cheap.”

She hesitated. She wasn't used to having anyone call her bluff. “Clay, you're overwrought. Let's go out to eat and just relax for a while.”

“I don't need to relax. And Derrie's coming over for supper. It will be just like old times.”

“You promised to marry me,” Bett said coldly.

“Did I? When?”

“In bed!”

“No. You said you were going to marry me,” he corrected. “I didn't agree that I would.”

“You'll be sorry if you go through with this,” she said very quietly.

“I'll be sorrier if I don't.” He picked up the telephone. “Don't let me keep you, Bett. I'm sure some of the groups you lobby for would love to discuss strategy with you.”

Her hands clenched by her sides. “I had to force myself to sleep with you,” she said with a cold smile. “I hated every minute of it!”

He smiled. “Yes, I know. I'm sorry you had to sacrifice yourself in such a distasteful way.”

She turned, picked up her purse and jacket and walked out without looking back. Clayton watched her, but only for a minute. His mind was on Nikki.

The telephone rang over and over, but there was no answer at the house. He hung up, and his face was troubled. That photograph he'd given Kane was going to be in print and on the stands by early afternoon. He didn't want Nikki to see it before he'd warned her what was coming. The shock might harm her or the child.

The child. He smiled. It was early; probably too early to tell if Kane was right and she really was pregnant. But he thought what a wonderful mother Nikki would make. If she loved Lombard, he supposed he could force himself to be civil to the man. He wouldn't admit for all the world that he saw something in Kane Lombard to admire.

As for Bett, that was a lucky escape. No doubt she'd go running to Haralson and that set of photos he had would be offered to the highest bidder. But timing was everything, and with any luck, Lombard's tabloid would hit the stands this afternoon with enough impact to knock Haralson's eyes out. Clayton hoped with all his heart that he'd done the right thing.

T
he front page of the Lombard tabloid was shocking. It showed two people making feverish love against a tree; but only from the waist up. The headline above it was even more shocking. It read, “Romeo And Juliet For The Modern Age; Adversaries Become Lovers.”

The young woman staring at it on the shelf had gone a pasty shade of white. Her companion was tugging at her arm, even as one of the women in line belatedly recognized the face on the cover and equated it with the white face leaving the drugstore.

“He printed it!” Nikki gasped. “Haralson printed it, did you see? Oh, my God…!”

“Nikki, that was the Lombard tabloid,” Derrie
pointed out uneasily, helping her friend into the car.

“I hate him,” Nikki whispered, sobbing with rage. “I hate him! How could he do that to me, to Clay?”

“Calm down, now,” Derrie coaxed. “You'll make yourself sick. I'm going to drive you home, Nikki. It will be all right. You have to stop crying.”

“I can't. I want you to drive me to Lombard International. I will not go home in tears. I'm going to break his jaw for him!”

“No, you aren't.” Derrie kept driving toward the Battery, ignoring Nikki's outbursts that lasted all the way there.

“Thank God, Clay's home,” Derrie mused as she pulled into the driveway.

Clayton came out onto the porch and she motioned furiously for him to come. He ran to help Nikki into the house.

“I'll make some coffee,” Derrie said, leaving Clay to watch his sister.

“The animal. The swine. The filthy pig!” Nikki choked. “I'll break his neck. Have you seen it? His family tabloid, and they printed that…that disgusting photograph! They're in league with Haralson, I knew they were…!”

“Calm down,” Clay said, holding her wet face against his chest. “Calm down, now, and listen to
me. I tried to fire Haralson and he showed me the photos, Nikki.”

“Wh…what?”

“That's right. He tried to blackmail me.” He grinned. “Nobody blackmails me. I took them to Kane Lombard.”

She stared at him, heartbroken. Her own brother had sold out to his worst enemy.

“We compared notes about Haralson,” he told her. “And then I made the comment that I'd like to skewer his liver for what he did to you. That's when he explained things to me. It seems that you're marrying him very soon because you're pregnant.”

There was a crash as Derrie dropped two cups of coffee on the spotless lacquered wood floor.

“I hope you enjoy mopping,” Clayton told her calmly. “And I'd like mine in a cup, please.”

“You know what you can do with the cup,” she replied, smiling nicely as she turned to go back into the kitchen.

“I'd like to hear you repeat that flat on your back on the kitchen table!” he shouted.

“Clayton!” Nikki gasped.

He grinned at her. “Don't worry. We're not going to fight. Two things, Nikki. Are you pregnant, and are you going to marry Kane Lombard?”

“I am not pregnant,” she said violently.

“You're losing your breakfast.”

“I hate breakfast!”

“He loves you, he says,” he added.

Her face softened magically. “He does?” The softening went into eclipse. “That's a lie! He does not, or how could he have let his venomous relatives print that ghastly photograph of us and distribute it all over Charleston? Oh, Clayton, people stared at me as if I were some hussy!” she wept.

“We know you're not a hussy. But if you're pregnant, I don't really think Kane is going to let you remain single for long. He seems pretty intent on dynasty building.”

“He lost his son.”

“I know. He told me. But that isn't why he wants to marry you, if the way he looks when he talks about you is anything to go on.”

“I don't want you to think I was meeting him behind your back deliberately,” she began.

“I know that.”

“I only wanted to tell him about the waste dump,” she continued. “I know he didn't do it. He isn't that kind of man. But Haralson is, and he hates the Lombards.”

“So I found out. Derrie and I put our heads together. She has a friend who found out a few things I missed. Now Lombard has the whole picture, and Derrie's friend went to see Kane with enough evidence to get his neck out of the noose.
Added to what Mosby sent me, it's more than enough to send Haralson to prison.”

“What was in that envelope that Mosby gave me for you?” she asked.

“You're better off not knowing.” He searched her green eyes. “You aren't carrying a torch for Mosby?”

She smiled. “I think I'm carrying one for Kane.” She touched her stomach with a wry grimace. “Although how he can know before I do…”

“Maybe it's like that when you love someone,” Clayton said quietly. “I don't know.”

“Maybe you will someday,” she replied.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Ready to go and buy a trousseau? Kane Lombard doesn't strike me as a waiting sort of man.”

“I haven't said I'll marry him,” she pointed out.

“And you'd better put the announcement in the paper pretty soon,” Clayton added, ignoring her protests. “After what came out in that tabloid today, there'll be a scandal if you don't.”

“Say, did you see the afternoon paper?” Derrie asked, scanning it as she came in with a tray of cups and saucers and a pot of coffee. “There's an announcement of Nikki's engagement to Kane Lombard.”

“He didn't! He wouldn't!” Nikki burst out.

Derrie chuckled. “He did.”

Nikki glowered at both of them. “Well, I won't marry him.”

They both looked at her stomach. She put her hands over it protectively. “I won't,” she repeated.

“Have some coffee,” Derrie invited, handing a cup of it to Clayton.

“Don't mind if I do.”

“I'd like some, too,” Nikki began.

Derrie handed her a glass of milk, smiling.

“I hate milk!”

“It makes babies big and strong,” Derrie coaxed.

“How did you…?”

“Eavesdropping,” Derrie nodded. “I learned from him.” She pointed toward Clayton. “He was always standing outside conference room doors with his ear to them.”

“I was not.” He glowered at her.

“How do you think he knew how to vote while he was in the state legislature?”

“I read the issues and made up my own mind,” he reminded her.

“After I explained them to you.” She polished her nails on her skirt and looked at them. “God knows how many mistakes you'd have made without me.”

He started to speak, stopped, and shrugged carelessly. “Well, I'm not making any new ones. Why
don't you come back and run my campaign for me?”

“Because I'm running it,” Nikki replied.

“You're pregnant.”

“So?”

“Sam would never forgive me if I left him now,” Derrie told him. “But we can be friends. Until after the election.”

He lifted one eyebrow and smiled slowly. “Just friends?”

She laughed softly. “Well, anything's possible,” she said demurely.

The phone rang and Nikki reached beside her to answer it. It was a well-wisher. She hung up. It rang again. Within ten minutes, it seemed that everyone in Charleston and North Charleston had recognized her in one paper or the other and wanted to comment on the Romeo and Juliet story. Nikki was fuming by the end of the day, and not at all in the sort of mood to answer the phone one last time and find a smug Kane Lombard on the other end of it.

“You!” she exclaimed. “Listen here, you snake in the grass…!”

“What time tomorrow do you want to be married?” he asked. “One o'clock would suit me very well, but if that isn't convenient, we can try another time.”

“How about another century? I am not marrying you!”

There was a pause. “My father would love that.”

“Excuse me?”

“He's got the next headline set in type already. Want to hear it?” He began to read, “Mother Of Romeo And Juliet Baby Refuses To Marry Heartbroken Father Of Child.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Yes, sad, isn't it? I expect people will call and write and accost you on the street, you heartless Jezebel.”

“Kane, how could you?”

“Well, you did help, after all,” he reminded her. “In fact, you remarked that it felt very good.” He paused. “I wonder how that would look in print?”

“You blackmailer!”

“I did the only thing I could, you know,” he relented, his voice soft and quiet. “He would have published the photographs.”

“I suppose he would have.”

“As it is, I've cut the ground from under him. He now has photos that have no intrinsic value to shock or humiliate. And you and I have some unfinished business.”

“This isn't the way it should happen,” she pointed out.

“Probably not,” he agreed quietly. “All right. We'll do it the right way. By the book, my dear.”

“By the what? Kane? Kane!”

But the line was dead. She glared at the receiver. “You're a horrible man and I will not marry you!”

“Oh, I'll bet you will,” Clayton said. He held out a glass. “Drink your milk.”

 

John Haralson had finished his third glass of scotch whiskey. He heard his motel room door open but it didn't really register until he saw Cortez and a uniformed man standing in front of him.

“Cortez!” he greeted. “Have a drink!”

“No, thanks. You'll need to come with us.”

He blinked. “Why?” he asked with a pleasant smile.

“It's a pretty long list.” Cortez read the warrant. “Violation of the controlled substances act, possession with intent to distribute, attempted extortion, bribery…you can read the rest for yourself.”

Haralson frowned and moved a little unsteadily to his feet. “You're arresting me?”

“No. He is. You're being arrested right now for violation of South Carolina state law. You'll be arraigned on federal charges a bit later.”

“You're on vacation.”

Cortez smiled coldly. “I haven't been on vacation since I engineered the first meeting with you at FBI headquarters where you were trying to dig
information out of one of your cohorts,” came the quiet reply. “And by the way, you'd better have this back.” He handed the startled man the two-dollar-and-fifty-cent gold piece.

“You bought it.”

“Not really. I don't collect coins. But it was helpful to let you think I was obsessed with that particular one, after I saw you buy it.”

“Of all the underhanded things!” Haralson roared.

“You wrote the book on that.” Cortez slid his sunglasses back on. “He's all yours,” he told the police officer. “Take good care of him for us. We'll be in touch.”

Haralson yelled after him. “You don't have any jurisdiction down here or in this case! You work for the FBI!”

Cortez lifted an eyebrow. “Do I?” he asked with amusement, and kept walking.

 

The same evening, the front door at the Seymour home opened to admit a gift-laden Kane Lombard. He walked past Clayton into the living room, where he dumped his burdens on the sofa next to a startled Nikki.

“Roses,” he said, pointing to three large bouquets, one of each color, “chocolates, CDs of romantic music, two books of poetry, and perfume. Chanel, of course,” he added with a grin.

Nikki gaped at him. “What is all this?” she asked dully.

“The accoutrements of courtship,” he explained. He sat down beside her, ignoring Clayton. “The ring is in my pocket, somewhere. It's only an engagement ring, of course. You have to come with me to pick out the wedding band.”

“But I haven't said I'll marry you…” she stammered.

“Of course you'll marry me,” he said, extricating the ring in its velvet box from his jacket pocket.

“I hate diamonds,” she began contrarily as he opened the box.

“So do I,” he agreed. “That's why I bought you an emerald.”

He had, too. It was faceted like a diamond, with incredible clarity and beauty. Nikki stared at it, entranced. She knew that a flawless emerald commanded the same price as a quality diamond; in fact, some were even more expensive. And this stone had to be two carats.

She looked up, her eyes full of delighted surprise.

He smiled at her. “Never expect the obvious from me, Nikki,” he said gently. “I'm not conventional.”