Authors: Danielle Steel
“I think I'll live.” But as soon as she stepped inside the house, there was an explosion of sound. The kids had heard them drive up, and Pam had looked outside and given a horrendous squeal.
“They're home!” She was first down the stairs, and threw her arms around Mel. “Welcome back!” It wasn't welcome home, but it was close. And the twins hugged her, and Mark, and Matthew woke up from all the noise and wanted to sleep in her bed that night. When they had all finally returned to their rooms again after almost an hour of chatter and noise and talk, Mel lay on their bed and looked at Peter with a happy smile.
“They're all good kids, aren't they?”
“They have a good mother.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. “I promise, Mel. I'll do everything I can to make things easier for you.” But there was only so much he could do, and that night he got a call at two
A.M.
He was back on call, and one of his bypasses needed him at once. And the next time Mel saw him again was when he came home at noon to change his clothes. She had the house back in control, had told Mrs. Hahn what she wanted served for dinner that night, and Peter noticed with a grin that Mrs. Hahn did not look pleased. But she made no complaint to him. And Peter changed his clothes and hurried off to work, just as Mel left. She smiled and waved as they pulled out of the driveway in their separate cars. Pam was getting herself to the shrink alone that day, as she had done the week before when Mel was gone. Mark had said he'd be home after dinner but not too late, since he had exams the next day, the twins were playing tennis with friends, but would be in by five o'clock. Mrs. Hahn was picking Matthew up at school, as she had a year before, and Mel was off to work for the first time in a week, and when she got in, even Paul Stevens's viciousness couldn't dampen her spirits today. Everything felt too damn good.
But at six forty-five, after she had done the news, the producer sought her out and found her in her office, jotting down some notes before she went home. He walked in and closed the door, and Mel looked up.
“Hi, Tom. Is something wrong?”
He hesitated and Mel felt a chill. Were they firing her? Could they? Had Stevens finally won? “Mel, I have to talk to you.” Oh shit.
“Sure. Sit down.” She waved him to a chair. The office didn't feel like home yet but it was all she had there.
“I don't know how to tell you this, Mel …” Her heart stopped. My God, she was being canned. She had been the biggest newsroom star at the network in New York, she had won four prizes for the documentary interviews she'd done and that little prick had gotten her canned.
“Yes?” She might as well make it easy for him, she just hoped she didn't cry, and all she wanted was to go home to Peter now. To hell with their fucking job and their lousy show. She'd go home and have the baby and take care of their kids.
“I don't want to frighten you.” That didn't make sense. “But we've had several threats …” She looked blank. “They started coming in during the week you were gone. And they began again today.”
“What kind of threats?” She didn't understand. Was that little sonofabitch threatening to quit? Let him then. The ratings would soar. But she didn't want to tell Tom that yet.
“Threats on your life, Mel.” She stared at him.
“On me?” It had happened once in New York, years ago, some kook didn't like the piece she'd done and called the network for months, threatening to strangle her, but eventually he'd gotten bored or given up. Mel looked amused. “At least someone's watching out there.”
“I'm serious, Mel. We've had problems like this before. This is California, not New York. We've had several assassination attempts on presidents out here.”
She couldn't help but smile. “I'm flattered, Tom, but I'm hardly in those leagues.”
“You're important to us.”
She was touched. “Thank you, Tom.”
“And we've hired a bodyguard for you.”
“You've what? Oh that's ridiculous … you don't really think …”
“You have children, Mel. Do you want to take that chance?” His question stopped her dead.
“No, I don't, but …”
“We didn't want to frighten your husband while you were gone, but we think it's serious.”
“Why?” She still looked amused. It happened in their business all the time.
“Because we got a call last week, and the man said there was a bomb in your desk. There was, Mel. It would have gone off in exactly one hour, when you opened your desk, and blown us all to kingdom come, if you'd been here.” Suddenly she felt sick.
“They think they might know who it is. But in the meantime, while they figure it out, we want you safe. We were very glad that you were gone last week.”
“So am I.” She felt an unconscious twitch in her left eye as she spoke, and she looked up to see a tall stern-looking man walk into the room. Tom introduced him at once. He was her bodyguard, and two others had been hired as well. They wanted her escorted whenever she came and went, and they left it up to her, but they thought she should have them at home as well. It was no secret who she was married to, and anyone could look them up. The bodyguard's name was Timothy Frank and as he left the building at her side, she felt as though she had a wall with her. He was the biggest, broadest, toughest man she'd ever seen. And she thanked him when he got her home. She had been asked to leave her car at the station that night, and go home with Tim in the limousine. And as she rolled up, she saw Peter was home.
“Hi.” He looked up from some papers he was going through, and smiled. It was so good to have her home again, but the frown was back, and she looked extremely strained.
“Trouble at work?”
“You might say that.” She looked dazed. Tim had left again with the limousine.
“What's wrong?” She told him then about the bomb and he stared at her. “My God, Mel. You can't live like that, and neither can we.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
He hated to say the words, but she was pregnant now, and it was just too much strain for her. Even if they caught the guy in a week or two, just knowing that it could happen again would put too much pressure on her, and on him. He didn't want her going through that. And if they didn't catch the guy … He shuddered at the thought, and stood up to close his study door. He stood there, looking down at her. “I think you should quit.”
“I can't.” Her face turned to rock. “It happened once in New York and I didn't quit then. I won't do it for a reason like that.”
“What reason do you need?” He was shouting at her. Life never seemed to get off their backs, patients dying, unruly kids, bomb threats, unexpected pregnancies. It was almost more than he could stand to think about as he looked at her. “What if someone bombs this house and one of the children is killed?”
She winced at his words and turned a faint shade of green. “We'll have bodyguards round the clock.”
“For five kids?”
“God damn it, I don't know …” She leapt to her feet. “I'll stay in a hotel if you want me to. But I won't quit my job, because of some fucking lunatic. For all I know it's Paul Stevens just trying to scare me off.”
“Is that what the police think?”
She had to be honest with him. “No, they don't. But they also think they know who the guy is.”
“Then take a leave until they pick him up.”
“I can't, Peter. I can't, dammit. I have a job to do.” He walked over and grabbed her arm. “You'll get killed.”
“I've taken that chance before.” Her eyes blazed. He couldn't make her quit her job, not after all these years. It was part of who she was, and he had promised to respect that, for better or worse.
“You've never taken that chance with my child's life. Think of that.”
“I can't think of anything anymore.”
“Except yourself.”
“Fuck you.” She walked out of the room and slammed the door, and went upstairs, and he didn't speak to her again that night. Things were off to a great start again, and the children sensed the tension in the house. She called the producer of the show that night, and accepted his offer of bodyguards, for herself, her husband, and the kids. It would take an army to keep them safe, but the station was willing to pay for it. And she told Peter about it when they went to bed. “They start tomorrow morning, at six.”
“That's ridiculous. What am I supposed to do? Do rounds with a bodyguard?”
“I don't think the problem is you. Maybe he could just go with you when you go outdoors. The real problem is me.”
“I'm aware of that.” He felt sick at the thought. And the next morning, at breakfast, she explained it to the kids. Their eyes were wide as she explained, and she assured them that they'd all be safe and in a few days the man would be caught. It was just something they had to live with for a little while. Matt thought it was fabulous, Mark was embarrassed to have to take a bodyguard to college with him, and the girls looked terrified. But as they each left for school with the policeman assigned to the task, Mrs. Hahn sought Mel out upstairs.
“Mrs. Hallum?” She always pronounced it that way, and Mel turned to speak to her.
“Yes, Mrs. Hahn?” Peter called her Hilda now and then, but Mel never did. And there was no “Mrs. Mel” as there had been in New York with Raquel.
“I wanted to tell you that due to the circumstances, I quit.”
Mel stared at her. “You do?” Peter would be shocked, and possibly even angry at her. She was wreaking havoc on their house and it was not her fault.
“I really don't think you're in any danger here, and as I explained to the children this morning, there will be full protection here at all times.”
“I've never worked in a house where there had to be police before.”
“I'm sure you haven't, Mrs. Hahn. But if you'll be patient for a little while …” She owed it to Peter to at least try.
“No.” She shook her head decidedly.” I won't. I'm leaving now.”
“With no notice at all?”
She shook her head, looking at Mel accusingly. “Nothing like this ever happened before when the doctor's wife was here.” The doctor's wife being Anne of course, the
real
Mrs. Hallam as opposed to Mel. And now Mel couldn't help pushing her a little, with a barely concealed grin. She was hardly heartbroken to see the woman go. She had hated her from the first.
“Things must have been pretty dull here then.” She looked nonchalant and Hilda Hahn was clearly horrified. She didn't even offer to shake Mel's hand.
“Good-bye. I left the doctor a letter in my room.”
“I'll see that he gets it then. You don't want to stay long enough to say good-bye to the children yourself?” That seemed mean to Mel, but she knew that they'd survive.
“I don't want to be in this house for another hour.”
“Fine.” Mel looked unperturbed and watched her go, and she almost shouted hallelujah as the front door closed. But that night, Peter was a little less than thrilled.
“Who's going to run this place, Mel? You don't have time.” She searched his eyes for accusation, but it was more concern.
“We'll find someone else.” She called Raquel, but she still refused to come out, and she urged Mel to be careful with the girls. “In the meantime, I can do it myself with the kids.”
“That's great. Someone is out there planting bombs with your name on them and you have to worry about doing laundry and making beds.”
“You can help too.” She smiled.
“I have other things to do.” And a bodyguard to endure. The entire situation wore on his nerves as the days wore on and the bomber wasn't caught. There had been four more threats, and a defective bomb was found in Mel's desk, and at long last even Paul Stevens felt sorry for her. He knew she was pregnant now, and there were dark circles under her eyes from lying awake at night, wondering if the man would be caught. He would in time, they always were, but how long would that be?
“I'm sorry this is happening to you, Mel.” He finally called a truce one day and held out a hand.
“So am I.” She smiled tiredly after they went off the air. The bodyguard had stood close by during the entire time. She was constantly aware of him, and in the morning when the kids left for school, the house seemed to be full of cops. It was driving Peter nuts and they were fighting all the time. He had almost gotten used to his own man, but the others seemed “de trop” for him. “It goes with the turf, I guess,” she told Paul.
He looked sadly at her. “You know, I used to envy you.”
“I know.” She smiled. And she knew why. “But at least you don't have to contend with this.”
“I don't know how the hell you stand the strain.”
“Mostly, I worry about the kids … my own … his … if something happens to one of them, I'll never forgive myself.” It had been going on for a month by now, and she was seriously beginning to think she ought to quit. She hadn't said anything to Peter yet, because she didn't want to get him started, or let him think that it was sure. But she had promised herself that if the bomber wasn't caught in the next two weeks, she would quit.
Paul Stevens looked horrified as he contemplated it all. “If there's anything that I can do …” She shook her head and said good night, and went home to her family, but it wasn't the casual group it used to be. There were unmarked police cars outside, and inside the house everyone was aware of the danger that lurked near them every day.
“Do you think they'll catch him, Mom?” Matthew asked her that night.
“I hope so, Matt.” She held him on her lap, praying that the danger would not touch him … or any of them … she looked from him to Pam to the twins. Mark was out. And that night Peter talked to her about it again.
“Why don't you quit?”
She didn't want to tell him that she was thinking the same thing. “I'm not a quitter, that's why.” But she had thought of something else. “What if we go away?”
“Where?”
It was June by then, and she thought of it with a sigh, as she looked at Peter hopefully. “What about taking everyone to Martha's Vineyard for a while?” She hadn't rented the house this year, but maybe she could still get it for a few weeks, or rent another one. But he shook his head.
“That's too far away for you.” She was four months pregnant by then, and just beginning to show. “And I'll never see you if you go there. Why not something nearby?”