More Deaths Than One (26 page)

“How do you know so much about people?” he
asked.

She smiled, but he thought he detected a hint
of sadness in her expression.

“Not people,” she said. “Just you.” Then her
smile broadened, and the dancing light returned to her eyes. “Feed
me. I’m starving.”

“Do you want to go out?”

“I’ve been out.”

“Room service it is. Let me put away my
paints first.”

She gestured to the picture with her chin.
“What are you going to do with that?”

He glanced at it with a feeling of distaste.
“Paint over it.”

“Good choice. I’m sure Hsiang-li would
agree.”

***

They feasted on lemon chicken soup, spinach
salad with peanuts and shredded carrots, grilled chicken and shrimp
dipped into a sweet-and-sour sauce, stir-fried vegetables, and a
coconut and squash custard for desert. To drink they had tead ice:
tea that had been frozen then crushed and served in a glass.

Listening to Kerry rhapsodize about the
sights she had seen and watching her attack the exotic food with
enthusiasm, Bob found himself wondering what his life would be like
if he could spend it with her. He pushed the thought away, knowing
all he had to offer was an uncertain future filled with unknown
dangers, but it left him with a dull ache in the vicinity of his
heart.

When they consumed the last of the food, she
took his hand. “Tell me.”

Obediently, he repeated everything Donald
McCray had said. As he spoke, he saw her eyes grow dark, and the
dull ache expanded until it choked him. She might not regret having
become involved in his affairs, but he regretted it on her behalf,
wishing he could have spared her this knowledge of human
perfidy.

“I try and try to figure it out.” She touched
her temple. “I understand here that they’re doing all these things
you’re telling me about, but I don’t understand it here.” She
touched the left side of her chest.

He hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know how
to explain it to you.”

Her chin jutted out. “Why? Because I’m just a
waitress?”

“No. Because you’re a good person. You care
about others. You empathize.”

“And the experimenters don’t?”

“They care about their own interests. They do
these things to learn, but more than that, they do them because
they can. Human interaction is all about power, and those who have
it use it. Power is like money. Everyone wants it. No one ever has
enough. And the more one has, the more one needs.”

“Not everyone. I don’t want power. You don’t
either, do you?”

“I want the power to live my life without
interference, and sometimes I think that’s the hardest thing of all
to achieve. If you’re not out there trying to grab power, you’re
perceived as weak, and that makes you fair game.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

“What comes next? Where do we go from
here?”

“Tomorrow I have to see Harrison’s lawyer,
also stop by O’Riley’s to say goodbye to Hamburger Dan, then we fly
to Manila.”

She gave a shiver. “To talk to that
doctor.”

He nodded.

She cuddled next to him and said defiantly,
“At least we have tonight.”

Twining her arms around his neck, she brought
his mouth to hers. The kiss was hard and short, but immediately her
lips sought his again.

He gathered her closer. Their kiss
deepened.

All at once she pulled away and hopped out of
bed. “Omigosh!”

“What?”

“I forgot. I have a present for you.” She
flashed an impish smile and darted into the bathroom. She emerged a
few minutes later wearing a dark rose cheongsam that accented the
swell of her breasts and the taper of her waist. “I bought it in
Chinatown. What do you think?”

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. She
looked flushed, radiant, beautiful.

She jutted out a hip. The side slit parted,
giving him a glimpse of shapely leg.

He felt a shock that started in his groin and
radiated upward. From the glint in her eyes, he knew she was aware
of the effect she had on him.

He slid off the bed and moved toward her,
stepping slowly and carefully as if he were in danger of falling
off a precipice. As he neared her, he smelled her new
perfume—frangipani. From now on, he knew, whenever he caught a
whiff of that scent, it would remind him of this moment, of her, of
the teasing look in her eyes.

He knelt on one knee in front of her and
skimmed his hand along her bare leg. It was as if he had touched
fire. Heat surged through him.

He rose. Reverently, his hands moved over
her, exploring her breasts, her back, the slope of her shoulders.
He could feel the warmth of her through the cool silk.

He kissed the hollow of her throat. She let
out a soft gasp, and her back arched. He kissed her breasts, first
one, then the other. She trembled. He laid his hands on her hips
and drew her closer. She stopped him with a palm on his chest and
unbuttoned his shirt. The blood ran faster in his veins.

When he was naked, she wiggled out of the
dress and leaned against him. He held her gently, wanting nothing
more for the moment than to be close to her, smell her, feel her
breath against his skin. She lifted her head, and her mouth took
his.

In a single fluid motion, he scooped her up
and laid her on the bed, their mouths still locked together. He was
aware of hot little jolts sweeping through him, of the feel of her
in his arms, then his body became fire, consuming all thought.

***

They lay in each other’s arms, a sheen of
perspiration on their bodies. Bob ran his fingers through Kerry’s
hair. It was as soft as the silk of her cheongsam.

“This is all so new to me,” he said.

She looked at him with laughing eyes, as if
they shared a private joke. “What? Sex?”

“No. Making love. Being in love.”

She grew still.

He touched her cheek with the back of a hand.
“I worry about you all the time.”

“My grandmother always said that was the
price you had to pay for love.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Anyway, you don’t have to worry. I can take
care of myself. I had two brothers, you know.” She leaned close,
her lips a whisper from his. “You love me?”

“Very much. I’ve never loved anyone before. I
don’t know how to deal with it.”

Her lips brushed his. “I’ve never loved
anyone either, not the way I love you.”

His heart seemed to thrust in his throat,
beating there with such force he had trouble swallowing. He wanted
to remind her of the differences in their ages, of the problems
that dogged him, but when he saw the joy reflected in her smile, he
held his tongue.

***

“Here, put this on.” Bob held out a brown
two-inch-wide belt.

Kerry lifted her shirt and showed him the
waistband of her dark cotton slacks. “It’s elastic, see? I don’t
need a belt.”

“It’s a money-belt. I got two of them
yesterday, one for me and one for you. There’s ninety-five hundred
dollars in each of them—”

“Ninety-five hundred dollars?” Her eyes grew
round. “In cash?”

“Yes. I would have liked to get more, but
that’s all we’re allowed to bring into the United States without
having to fill out forms, and in our situation, that can get
sticky.”

“What would happen if we brought in more than
that and didn’t declare it?”

“Maybe nothing unless we got caught, but
since we’re traveling with fake IDs, I’d prefer not to complicate
matters. When the problem with ISI goes away, I can have some of my
money wired to an account in Colorado or wherever.”

“Just some? Not all?”

“It’s safe where it is.” When she gave him a
narrow-eyed look, he laughed. “I don’t seem to be able to keep
anything from you. It’s in a private bank in Chinatown. Hsiang-li
sponsored me, otherwise I’d have to use the same banks as everyone
else, and ISI would probably have found my account by now.”

“Wouldn’t ISI have already traced the bank
through your traveler’s checks?”

“My bank doesn’t offer that service. I paid
cash for them at another bank that does, and since they don’t know
me, that’s a dead end for ISI.”

Becoming aware he still held out the
money-belt, he said, “Well, are you going to put it on?”

She took it from him, fastened it around her
waist, and smoothed her shirt over it. Turning sideways to look in
the mirror, she asked, “Does it make me look fat?”

“I don’t even notice it.”

She gave him a laughing glance. “Aren’t you
afraid I’m going to run off with your money?”

“No. In fact, you can have it.”

She looked at him aghast. “I can’t take your
money.” Reaching under her shirt, she started to remove the
belt.

He put a hand on her arm. “Keep it for now.
If we get separated, or if anything happens to me, you’ll need it
to get back home.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she said
fiercely.

He nodded as if he agreed and did not mention
the sense of foreboding that made his shoulder blades itch.

Chapter 23

They found Bernard Goldman’s office in a
glass, steel, and concrete building. It was furnished with towering
mahogany shelves full of law books from the United States,
Thailand, China, and several others in languages Bob did not
recognize. Behind the massive mahogany desk, a window overlooked
the Chao Phraya River.

Bob and Kerry perched on uncomfortable seats,
while Harrison’s attorney lounged in his well-padded burgundy
leather chair.

“You’re a hard man to get hold of,” Goldman
said, huffing and puffing and sweating profusely in the
air-conditioned room. Though he was heavy, his skin hung loosely as
if he had recently lost a lot of weight.

He took a monogrammed handkerchief out of his
jacket pocket and mopped his face. “Most people come running when
they think there might be an inheritance.” He stuffed the
handkerchief back in his pocket. “Let’s get to business, shall we?”
He seized a thick sheaf of papers and began to read Harrison’s
will.

Bob cleared his throat to catch the lawyer’s
attention. “A brief summary will be fine.”

“In short, you inherit William Henry
Harrison’s estate, but you won’t see a penny for years. Harrison’s
will is very extensive—he mentioned more than a hundred people—and
you inherit after all the other bequests have been made. As things
stand now, by the time everything has been distributed, all that
will be left for you are Harrison’s New York brownstone and fu-ture
royalties from his books, but—”

Goldman shuffled through the will. “Yes, here
it is. Dave and Kalia Marconi have the use of the brown-stone for
as long as they are going to school. Since the estate is paying for
their tuition, they will probably be going to graduate school,
also. So you can see, it will be years before you can sell the
place. With the state of the New York housing market, however, when
you do sell it, you will be a very rich man.”

Bob closed his eyes. A rich man? Harrison
him-self had enriched his life. No amount of money could ever make
up for his loss. Besides, he was already rich.

He felt Kerry’s fingers touch his hand. He
opened his eyes and smiled at her. She gave him an inquiring
glance; he nodded to let her know he felt okay.

Goldman looked from Bob to Kerry. “If we may
continue?”

Kerry folded her hands primly in her lap, but
her body seemed to vibrate with suppressed excitement.

“Mr. Harrison left you one other bequest, Mr.
Stark,” Goldman continued. “Because he gave it to me before he
died, there’s no need to wait for probate. Unfortunately, it’s in a
safety deposit box in New York. I’ll be there in a few days.
Perhaps I could send it to you. Do you have a business card?”

Bob shook his head.

Goldman waved a hand toward the door. “Leave
your address with my secretary.” He hunted through the accumulation
on his desk, obviously signaling their dismissal.

Bob remained seated. “What did Harrison want
me to have?”

Goldman looked up. The expression on his face
clearly said, “Are you still here?”

He mopped his brow. “He left you a satchel.
He called me from the hospital and told me they were after his
papers. He said he made Dave bring them to him for safekeeping. He
wanted me to come get them. I was in New York at the time, so I
agreed. When I got to the hospital, he gave me the satchel, said it
contained notes for his work in progress, and told me to protect it
until I could give it to you.

“I don’t imagine it will come as any great
surprise when I tell you I tried to talk him into donating the
papers to a library or a university. I’m sure you know the papers
of such a great man are valuable and not to be treated lightly, but
he wanted you to have them. When I asked him why, he said, ‘Because
if I ever get well, he will immediately return them to me, and if I
don’t, he will know what to do with them.’ Anything else, Mr.
Stark?”

Bob shook his head, wondering what Harrison
meant. He didn’t expect him to finish writing the book, did he?

Bob left the office and headed for the
elevator. Realizing Kerry wasn’t with him, he retraced his steps.
He found her talking to Goldman’s secretary.

“What was that about?” he asked as they
waited for the elevator.

“I gave her my address so the lawyer could
send you the satchel. You do want it, don’t you?”

“Yes, but not at any risk to you.”

She held up her palms. “Don’t worry. I didn’t
give her the address of the house where I’m staying. When I decided
to leave Pete’s Porches, I got a box at one of those mail outlets.
I planned to have my mail forwarded there since I didn’t know where
I was going to be living and I didn’t trust the cheat to save it
for me. I never got around to sending the change of address card to
the post office, so no one knows about the box.” She finished the
last few words in a rush as the elevator doors opened.