Read The Cutting Edge Online

Authors: Linda Howard

The Cutting Edge (14 page)

“Is it really necessary?” His voice was laced with boredom. “You won't accomplish anything, except to waste my time.”

“I have to talk to you,” she repeated, and with a sigh he stepped back, opening the door wider.

“Get it over with, then.”

She entered the room, fingering her purse nervously. She'd planned to tell him immediately that she wasn't guilty, but now that she faced him and could see the distaste in his eyes, as if she'd brought a foul smell into the room with her, she couldn't quite do it. He didn't look like a man in pain, a man who'd been forced to do something that had to be almost as traumatic for him as it had been for her. He looked as cool and controlled as he'd ever been. There was no hint in his eyes that he even remembered the hours of lovemaking between them.

She stopped in the middle of the room and forced her hands to cease their nervous movements. “Evan Brady—” Her voice was raw and shaky and she stopped, clearing her throat. “Evan Brady told me that you're the one who pressed charges against me.”

“That's right,” Brett said easily, moving away from her and settling himself against the edge of the writing desk in front of the windows. He stretched out his long legs, crossing them negligently at the ankle.

“You didn't even warn me—”

He burst out laughing, a cold, contemptuous laugh that flayed her skin, making her wince. “Did you think that just because we had sex together, I'd be so wild about you that I'd let you get away with theft? You're a good lay, honey, I'll give you that, but I had a job to do.”

Tessa stared at him, her breathing stopped in her chest, though her heart was pounding so heavily that the sound of it filled her head. He couldn't be saying those things! She was as still and pale as a statue, only her burning eyes alive as she looked at him. Slowly she went over his words, feeling something die inside of her. Her tongue was stiff and didn't want to work, but she forced the words out. “Did you…are you saying that the only reason you asked me out…the only reason…”

“You made our investigation easy,” he said, and smiled. “Maybe I shouldn't have taken advantage of the fringe benefits you offered, but you're a sexy little thing, and I wanted you to feel secure enough that you wouldn't bolt.” Clenching his jaw with the effort it cost him to smile, he mentally thanked her for giving him the excuse herself. He couldn't let her see that she'd almost brought him to his knees. If nothing else, he had to hang on to his pride. God, she was lovely, and so delicate that it was almost impossible to believe her capable of embezzlement, even though he'd seen the evidence himself.

“One other thing,” he said, disguising his bitterness with a casual tone. “You made me lose my head Sunday afternoon, and I forgot to take care of things. It's not likely, but if you're pregnant, let me know. Damn it, even knowing you probably did it deliberately, a pregnancy would change things,” he admitted reluctantly.

Tessa hadn't moved an inch. Her face was paper white. “No, I don't think it would change anything at all,” she said, and walked out.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
ESSA HAD BEEN
hurt before, but nothing had ever made her feel as she did when she walked out of Brett's hotel room. It was a pain so deep, so crippling, that she couldn't even imagine the scope of it, yet in a way it was also a blessing, because the shock of it numbed her. He not only didn't love her, but also had been using her all along! She'd thought that they'd had something real, something infinitely precious between them, only to find that he'd sought her out for his investigation. The love she'd been so certain of had existed only in her mind. If he felt anything at all for her, it was only lust. He'd used her body only because she'd offered it, and it had meant nothing to him beyond momentary physical pleasure.

Now, with the wisdom of hindsight, she remembered all the casual questions he'd asked her the first time he'd taken her out to dinner. A harsh laugh tore from her throat. She'd thought he was making conversation, an easy way of getting to know her, but instead he'd been digging for information!

She felt…dirty. The horror of being arrested, of being fingerprinted, hadn't made her feel that way, because she'd known herself to be innocent of the charge they'd made against her, of the charge that
Brett
had filed against her. But now she felt violated, both men
tally and physically. She'd given her love to him in every way she knew, openly, trustingly, and he'd used her as casually as any whore had ever been used. He'd turned his back on her, not caring that he'd trampled on her emotions, not caring that she felt soiled and lifeless.

There was a lump in her throat that felt as if it were choking her. She swallowed convulsively, looking around in mild surprise. She was in her own apartment, and she had no remembrance of getting there. She didn't remember anything from the moment she'd left Brett's hotel room, though the clock on the wall told her that so little time had elapsed that she must have come straight home.

There had been times in the past when she'd felt beaten down, but she'd always recovered, always found again the ability to laugh and enjoy life. Perhaps laughter was beyond her now, but there was steel in her, steel that wouldn't allow her to knuckle under. She wasn't going to go tamely to prison for something she hadn't done, even if Brett Rutland had torn her heart out. She'd do whatever she could to prove her innocence. He could break her only if she allowed him to, and she wasn't going to do that. All she had left now was her pride, and the knowledge of her innocence; with that, she'd survive. She had to turn her back on her pain, push Brett out of her mind, because if she allowed her tortured thoughts to dwell on him, she'd go mad.

With that decision, it was as if a door had slammed in her mind. Her face was calm as she went to the phone. She wanted the one person who would never turn against her.

“Honey, it's so nice to hear your voice!” Silver ex
claimed happily, hundreds of miles and three time zones away. “I was just thinking about you. Are you calling about wedding plans?”

“No,” Tessa said calmly. “Aunt Silver, I've been arrested. I need you.”

Five minutes later, when Tessa hung up the phone, it was with Silver's grim reassurance ringing in her ears that she would be there the next day. If Tessa had needed an example of love and trust to compare with Brett's behavior, Silver had given it to her. Her aunt's support had been immediate and unquestioning, and so fierce that if Silver had been able to get her hands on Brett Rutland at that moment, he'd have been mauled before he'd even had the chance to protect himself.

She'd barely hung up the phone when her doorbell rang. Remembering the night before when she'd opened the door to the two detectives, an especially cruel shock when she'd been anticipating Brett's arrival so eagerly, Tessa froze for a moment. Had something gone wrong? Could her bond be rescinded?

“Tessa? Are you all right?”

It was Billie's voice, and she sounded anxious. As Tessa opened the door to her friend, she wondered how much Billie knew, if it was common knowledge at the office yet that she'd been arrested.

Billie's eyes were worried as she stepped into the apartment. “Are you sick?” she asked. “No one knew why you weren't at work today. I tried calling you at lunch, but there wasn't any answer.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Tessa offered, her voice calm and flat. Billie had already answered one of her questions: The reason for her absence hadn't been
made public yet, though of course it would be, eventually. Gossip had a way of filtering out, like fine dust through the cracks in a floor.

“I'd like an answer, but I'll take a cup of coffee, too,” Billie replied testily.

Well, why not? Why should she evade the issue? She hadn't done anything wrong. “I've been fired, I think.” A faintly wry smile curved her lips. She hadn't actually received a dismissal, but then a warrant for her arrest had been pretty effective.

Following her into the kitchen, Billie stuttered questions at her. “Fired? Don't be ridiculous—What are you talking about? Why would anyone want to fire you? And what about Brett?”

Taking the coffee can down from the cabinet, Tessa calmly went about the process of making coffee. “Brett had me arrested,” she stated from a remote sea of indifference. “For embezzlement. Turns out he was only interested in me from an investigative standpoint.”

She turned and watched Billie, wondering if her offhand statement would spell the end of their friendship. At this point, she didn't have much faith in anyone, except Silver.

Billie flushed a dark red. “Are you for real?” she demanded in a harsh tone.

Tessa didn't say anything, but evidently the look on her pale, expressionless face convinced Billie. “Why that blind, conniving bastard!” Billie snarled, her small hands balling into fists. “You're no more a thief than…than my mother is! Where did he get a screwball idea like that? What sort of evidence does he have?”

“I don't know. I hired a lawyer today; I suppose he'll
find out.” A part of her frozen heart was warmed by Billie's instant defense, but it was a small part. The greater portion of her heart had died about an hour before.

Billie looked at Tessa, seeing the emptiness in her friend's eyes, and her lips trembled. “Oh, God, I can't stand this,” she whispered, reaching out to hug Tessa tightly. “You were so happy, and for him to hit you between the eyes like this…I'm turning in my notice tomorrow! I'm not working for a monster like that!”

“I'll be all right,” Tessa said quietly. “I know that I'm innocent; that's the most important thing. There's no need for you to quit because of me. You'll need your salary for all the things you'll have to buy when you and Patrick get married.”

“But—”

“Please. It isn't necessary.”

She eventually convinced Billie not to quit her job, but Billie's red-headed temper was aroused, and she stormed around the apartment, alternately threatening Brett with dismemberment and feverishly planning any defense Tessa could use. Tessa remained quiet, not really paying attention. She was interested in the future only in an abstract way, because she didn't have a real future anymore. Even if she cleared her name—no,
when
she cleared it—she would still be only half alive, going through the motions of living without feeling any of the joy, an empty shell that held only the echo of laughter.

When Billie calmed down, she and Tessa sat at the table and drank coffee. Billie tried to cheer Tessa up, and Tessa tried to respond, if only to ease Billie's mind, but the subject was like a sore tooth. No matter how
they tried to talk about something else, they kept coming back to worry at it.

“There hasn't been a breath of this in the office,” Billie said incredulously. “I'd swear that even Perry doesn't know about it.”

Her eyes bitter, Tessa said, “I'm not going to try to cover it up. I'm not a thief, and I'm not going to act as if I'm guilty. Perhaps Brett and Evan have their reasons for keeping it quiet, but as far as I'm concerned, let everyone know about it, and let them know that I intend to fight this down to the last pea in the dish.”

“You want me to let it out?” Billie asked incredulously.

“Why not? You know the old saw about the best defense—”

“Is a good offense. Gotcha. You're going to give him something to think about, right?”

“I don't care what he thinks. I'm fighting for my life,” Tessa said flatly.

When Billie had gone, Tessa very carefully went around the apartment and made certain everything was locked, but even then she felt vulnerable and exposed, as if there were prying eyes looking through the walls. She had a horrible thought: Had the place been bugged? Wildly she looked around, before common sense reassured her that such measures would hardly be employed in her case. She forced herself to shower and get ready for bed, but when she went into the bedroom she stopped in her tracks, staring at the bed. There was no way she could sleep in that bed. Brett had slept in it with her, initiated her into the searing intimacies of lovemaking, held her through the night—and it had all
been lies. The love she'd been so certain of had been a mirage, a false image projected to gain her confidence. There had been no security in his arms, only lies.

Shaking, she grabbed an extra blanket and returned to the living room, curling up on the couch as she'd done the night before. Lying there in the dark, staring into the darkness with wide, empty eyes, she wondered when she'd feel the first stirring of anger. Why couldn't she be angry? With anger would come strength, strength that she needed, but the only emotion she could feel was the hollow pain of betrayal, and that pain was too deep even for tears. She'd cried once, that morning in the shower, but somehow that seemed as if it had happened years ago, to someone else. This morning, even though she'd known then that Brett had been involved in her arrest, she'd still given him the benefit of the doubt. She'd hurt, but she'd also thought that he would be hurting, too, that he'd been faced with evidence so strong that he'd been forced to take action against her. Without even consciously thinking about it, she'd already forgiven him, because she loved him so much. This morning, she'd still been able to hope.

Now there was nothing for her except a bleak stretch of years. After Andrew, even in the depths of her bitterness, she'd somehow known that there would be sunny times ahead for her. She hadn't been broken; she'd been furious and hurt, but never broken, because she hadn't loved Andrew deeply enough that his betrayal could slash her heart. Well, the party girl was finally paying off all her old debts to fate. She'd waltzed away relatively unscathed too many times, but she wouldn't waltz away from this one. Even proving her innocence
wouldn't change the fact that Brett didn't love her, and had never loved her.

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