"He attacked her?"
"Yes, Madam. He tried to kill Nialla at Charlie's place yesterday."
Her hands went out to Rafe appealingly. "I need protection," she said in a breathless whimper. "Ralph. I'm totally unprotected up there. There's only John and Pres. You've got to let me stay here. You've got the fence, the dogs."
Rafe took her hands down. His face… his face showed the most awful lack of expression. "You'll have ample police protection." He moved back, away from her outstretched hand.
Michaels quickly started to assure her that she would be guarded night and day, but she didn't seem to hear him, still begging Rafe silently for sanctuary in this house.
"I'm afraid you'll have to stay in your own home, Mrs. Madison," Michaels told her.He could afford to be kinder. He wasn't related to her. "The extortionist will be calling you now that his little… bombshell has been delivered. You'll have to stay home. We'll arrange for a wire tap to trace the call, have men guarding you night and day.,." He noticed the rise of her eyebrow as his words and meaning penetrated her fear. "… and a policewoman in your room. There won't be any chance of your being-ah-hem-having any personal dealings with him."
"A burglar-alarm system was installed in the house sometime ago, Lieutenant," Rafe said, disregarding any attempt of his mother to get his attention. "There's also a trained private investigator."
"This Urscoll fellow?"
"Ralph, how could you?" Her protest was a shocked wail.
"You can dispense with the nose of outrage, Madam. Two… three… men have already been murdered, my wife has been physically attacked, and Lou Marchmount driven to the edge of insanity. If…"
"Lou? You mean, that man has already approached Lou?"
Rafe stared at her with incredulity. "Why did you think Marchmount hired Urscoll?"
"Why, to keep his second wife-that awful Lorette person-from besieging him with her hypochondriacal demands."
"And you believed him?"
"Of course, I'd believe Louis Marchmount. Why should I ever doubt his word?"
"You were quick enough to doubt my wife's honor," Rafe replied harshly. For the first time fury broke through the icy coldness with which he had been treating her. "And quick enough to call those pictures 'fakes' when you thought Lou was involved. For God's sake, Madam, don't be so naive. You know Marchmount's reputation…"
"You mean, those photos were real?"
"No, ma'am, they're not," Michaels said rather forcefully. "Good fakes, yes, but fakes they are. Our lab can blow them up and show where the heads were stripped in. Clever, but the joins are there."
"As I said earlier, Wendy"-and Rafe made her name into a cold, hard epithet-"Nialla is not to blame for the insidious position in which you now find yourself."
"Then all his talk about ruin and persecution wasn't…" Wendy Madison shut her mouth with sudden discretion. She rose again. "I want to get out of this ridiculous position. How do I cooperate with you, Lieutenant? Ralph, you will have the courtesy to call your brother Michael instantly and tell him to come at once. Lieutenant, I want these photos destroyed. I don't want everyone gawking…"
"I can't destroy evidence, Mrs. Madison, but I assure you that all discretion will be used to protect Mrs. Clery."
"Mrs. Clery?" She was stunned, and looked around at me as if I'd no right to be discussed at all.
"And Mr. Marchmount," the lieutenant added diplomatically. But as he escorted her to the door, his attitude toward her had changed. Rafe was gathering up the photos quickly.
Dennis, I realized, had disappeared some time ago. I wondered in a sick fashion if he'd had a good look at those poses when she'd been brandishing them about. But Michaels had said they were obvious fakes. How had he known? How obvious? Had he just said that? I wished- no, I didn't wish. No! I didn't ever want to see them.
"Nialla," Rafe's voice recalled me from the grotesque push-pull. "I won't be long."
I numbly gestured acceptance, but the moment he was out the door, I wanted to cry out to him to come back. He was leaving me alone.
"Get a grip on yourself, Nialla," I whispered out loud. Garry's in the house. I could hear her quick steps, and then she started down the stairs, moving more slowly then, as heavy people do. When I saw her face, her brows puckered in an angry frown, I realized that she'd heard everything, and I looked away, anywhere but at her.
"I can't pretend I'm deaf and didn't hear a thing, Miss Nialla." Her voice reached me because I couldn't unhear. "Madam's gone too far this time. Storming in here like it was all your fault and speaking to you in such a way. It was all I could do to keep quiet. Anyone'd think you'd arranged the whole thing to put shame on her. Now, you just sit quiet till Mr. Rafe gets back. Imagine, someone with spit enough to try blackmailing the Madam. No wonder that poor Mr. Marchmount took to drugs with that hanging over his head. Well, Madam won't see his heels fast enough, I reckon. Good thing, too. I only hope Dennis didn't stay?" I shook my head. "There, there, you poor child. Why, you look dreadful. You're as white as a sheet. A cup of tea? No, maybe you need some of that brandy!"
I shook my head, pointing to my neck.
"Yes, of course. I was forgetting. I'll just make you something nice and cool. That'll make you feel better, and you can forget this whole terrible thing." With that she marched out of the room.
Just as if a drink or a cup of tea would, could, put everything to rights. I leaned my head back against the couch, feeling drawn and quartered and strengthless. Would to God Mrs. Garrison had some magical potion. I wished I'd been consumed in that barn fire. I wished I had been strangled the day before. I wished I'd never let Rafe talk me into going to dinner that first night. But I'd been so tired of peanut butter… If only I'd refused-even that second time-and just packed up and left the grounds, prize money forfeited and everything. Pete Sankey wouldn't be dead…
"If you're feeling sorry for yourself…"
I gave a convulsive leap, crying out in surprise before I realized it was Rafe. One look at the awful expression on his face, and self-pity was the furthest thing from my mind. He looked a hundred and two, every line in his well-used face graven deeply. His eyes lacked even a touch of blue.
"Anyone'd think you'd arranged the whole thing to put shame on her." Mrs. Garrison had pointed to the wrong woman.
"Actually, I was thinking that a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich would taste damned good about now," I said, taking a deep breath. "And trying to figure out how Lieutenant Michaels could sound so sure that those pictures were fakes."
Rafe blinked suddenly, a slight frown creasing his brows still more, but the color came back into his eyes and his jaw relaxed. I'd managed to surprise him, too.
"For one thing," he said, coming across the room, "the girl so lewdly portrayed was very gaudy. Not at all neat." There was even the faintest suspicion of a smile at his mouth. "Which the lieutenant wouldn't necessarily guess. But you are five-foot-four, my dear heart, and that girl was an Amazon."
I was suddenly consumed with fury. "Then how could anyone…"
Rafe roared with laughter at my reaction. "Shock value. If Wendy Madison had thought twice, she'd have realized it, too. All she saw were the faces and the postures." He turned serious again and gathered me into his arms, his eyes blue and oddly sad. "You've been at the more serious disadvantage, my dear, because you knew Lou Marchmount had raped you and there was just the possibility that there had been a photograph taken."
"Oh, Rafe, if I should ever have to testify…"
He pulled my cheek against his and held me tightly, reassuringly.. y