The Count From Wisconsin (15 page)

"You grow too sure of yourself, Rene. I won't have that bourgeois interfering with my affairs." He inhaled roughly and Kate could see his hand slapping against his thigh impatiently. "I wanted to play out the ending, to handle it with finesse, but it can't be done now."

Alvarez had been moving about the room restlessly as Sauset spoke. For a moment he paused beside the leather sofa and Kate held her breath when he pulled up his trouser legs and bent to sit down. Kate began to tremble as he crossed his legs and threw his arm over the back.

"I shall make the final move now," Sauset continued as he walked toward his desk. "I want you to go to the cottage and wait for me."

"Now?" Alvarez stood up suddenly and Kate sagged in relief as he moved toward Sauset. "It would be my pleasure, of course. However, I'm afraid I have plans."

"But you'll cancel them, won't you, my dear Rene?" Sauset's voice was smooth and deadly as he turned away to pick up something from the desk.

For a moment, silence filled the room, then Alvarez laughed shortly. "Yes, I believe I will."

"Then go. I'll slip away as soon as I can manage it." They walked single file to the door, then as Sauset pulled it open, he turned back and said, "And Rene . . ." He paused and at that moment Kate's purse slipped from her trembling fingers, hitting the padded window seat with a thump that echoed like a gunshot in her ears.

She stood rigid with her eyes closed, waiting breathlessly for the curtain to be jerked aside.

". . .you had better be there," Sauset said softly.

Then the room was once more in darkness and she heard the door close with a soft thud.

Nine

Kate slumped back against the window, then, shaking her head, she parted the curtain and stepped down. She picked up her purse and stared into the dark room as she called his name softly.

"Alex?" She moved a couple of feet into the room. "Alex, where are you?"

"I'm right here, Duchess."

His voice came from right beside her and she jumped, startled by the sound. Reaching out, she felt his chest, then his face. When she knew for certain it was actually him, she drew back and punched him in the shoulder.

"You scared me," she accused. "Where were you anyway? I saw something move behind the couch."

"That was me." He moved her toward the door as they talked. "I was trying to keep from sneezing. Charles really should talk to his cleaning people. The dust was thick back there."

"I thought I'd die when I saw Alvarez sit on the couch." She paused. "Alex, it just occurred to me that they spoke English the whole time . . . except a French word now and then. Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "Charles has always spoken English more than French because his business is based in Canada, and I believe Alvarez spent quite a bit of time in the States."

"It still seems strange. Almost as though they were speaking for our benefit."

"If they had known we were there, Duchess, we wouldn't be standing here wasting time," he said dryly. "We would be in the middle of a very nasty situation."

"Where are we going?" she asked as he cracked the door and peered around it into the hall.

"Guess?" he said, turning to give her an expectant look over his shoulder.

She thought for a moment. "Alvarez," she said finally. "We get to follow him to the cottage ..." She paused thoughtfully. "Alex, you don't suppose this cottage is in Tibet or Siberia or Swaziland, do you?"

He chuckled and put his arm around her waist as they stepped out into the hall. "Why do you ask?"

"After all we've been through chasing this man, it just seemed a likely possibility." Suddenly she gasped. "Alex, look at you! You're all dirty."

They quickly dusted his clothing, then walked briskly through the entrance hall, nodding to the people who stared after the hastily retreating rumpled figures.

"They probably all think we were fooling around in the wine cellar," she said, her voice disgruntled as they once again followed the red Jaguar. They had had to run to the Renault in order to catch Alvarez as he left and were now right behind him as he took a winding country road in the general direction of Paris.

"Instead we were fooling around in the study." He chuckled quietly.

"We were not," she objected indignantly. "Any fooling around we did, we did in the bedroom."

She looked away from his wide grin and leaned back in the seat to stare at the taillights of the Jaguar in the distance. Alvarez certainly had kept them busy.

About thirty miles outside the city he turned into a narrow drive. Alex stopped the car immediately, turning off the lights as he stared thoughtfully into the heavily wooded area Alvarez had entered.

"There's no traffic down there. He'll notice our lights," he said, then shrugged in what Kate felt was a much too casual movement and turned into the drive also . . . only without headlights. "Let's just hope there's enough moonlight to keep us on the road."

It was eerie driving through the heavily wooded area in the dark. The night-blackened trees closed in around them, guarding the road with what she felt sure was brooding menace. Staring wide-eyed at their surroundings, Kate tried to pick out the road. She had never realized there were so many different shades of black.

They could see Alvarez's headlights shining through the trees ahead of them for perhaps fifteen minutes, then suddenly they were extinguished.

Alex immediately pulled the Renault off the drive into the trees. "We'll have to walk from here," he said, opening his door. "He'll be listening for the sound of Charles's car." He paused and glanced back at her. "And I'm afraid we'll have to keep off the road. It would be too easy for our friend Charles to take us by surprise."

Kate had held her peace when he had turned off the lights and driven blindly. She had even bitten her tongue to keep from protesting when he calmly said, "We'll walk," but this was too much.

"Alex," she whispered as he leaned down to open her door, "even though I'm wearing four-inch heels and an evening dress, I'll walk . . . but aren't there animals and bogs and things out there in those woods?"

His quiet chuckle drifted softly through the night. "We still have our flashlights, Duchess."

"Why, of course we do," she said sweetly, slapping her head with her hand at her stupidity. "So if we are attacked by crazed animals we can beat them off with our penlights." She stepped from the car, muttering, "Unless we run across a band of marauding chipmunks, we're sunk."

"Kate . . . Kate," he said, hugging her to him as she stepped from the car. She could feel his body shaking with laughter. "How did I get along before I met you?"

"You were a miserable playboy," she said, giving him a kiss on his rough cheek. It was a subject she wanted to explore more fully, but she knew there wasn't time. "You sat around with a redhead on each arm and cried in your champagne because there was no one to bitch at you."

"That's it," he said. "That's it exactly." Giving her one last hug, he glanced about quickly, his face alert. "Okay, Duchess, let's go."

He directed his light to the right of them. "The headlights on his car were coming from that direction when he killed them, so if we walk through here instead of walking beside the road, we'll probably get there quicker."

She only muttered a very little bit as they moved into brush that had to bear a decided resemblance to Darkest Africa. Because of the underbrush and fallen logs, they were forced to walk single file using their small flashlights to pick out a rough trail.

After a few minutes of walking Kate's feet were killing her. She had already tripped three times and she was out of breath, but she didn't say anything ... at least not out loud. She knew she could have stayed in the car, but the knowledge didn't help her feet.

James Bond has warped the mind of the American male, she thought cynically as she tripped again.

Alex stopped and leaned against a tree, pulling her to him. "How are you doing, Katy?"

He wasn't even breathing hard, damn him. "I'm hunky-dory," she said mildly, struggling to slow down her breathing. "I've broken three nails and could possibly have a run in my leg rather than my stocking, but I'm fine."

He shifted, settling her between his legs. "You're terrific," he said, his lips moving against her forehead.

She nodded. "A lesser woman would have crumbled," she acknowledged modestly.

"A lesser woman would have taken a cab back to Monte Carlo, but then all women are lesser compared to you." He chuckled, then nodded slowly to indicate something behind her. "We're almost there."

She raised her head and glanced in that direction. She couldn't make out the house, but she could see light that must have been coming from its windows.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" she asked, letting her head sink back to his comfortable chest. "We wait."

"As long as we're sitting I guess that won't be so bad," she murmured.

As far as Kate was concerned, they could have staved Just exactly as they were, with his strong arms around her and their bodies pressed together. However, they began walking again as soon as she caught her breath and before long they could see, in the center of a small clearing, a stone cottage, its walls heavy with vines.

Moving to the side of the cottage, they found a fallen log a safe distance away and sat down to wait. Since talking was risky, Kate leaned against Alex and listened to the sounds of the night. She could have been back in Hum, rather than a few miles outside of Paris. The sounds animals made in the night were universal.

The bark of the log penetrated her jersey dress, but it wasn't unpleasant. Someday perhaps she would take Alex to her cabin in the rough country of West Texas and sit with him like this beside a campfire. She longed to show him the Texas stars, stars bigger and brighter and friendlier than anywhere else in the world.

For a long time she was lost in pleasant dreams, then suddenly she felt Alex's head jerk up. She listened closely and after a few seconds heard the distinct hum of an approaching car.

Alex slid with her to the grass behind the log, and as they watched from the woods a large dark car appeared around the bend in the road. Seconds later its headlights were extinguished and Sauset stepped out.

As soon as he entered the cottage, Alex stood and stealthily began to move closer in a crouching walk. Kate was right behind him, as close as his shadow, her heart pounding as they stopped beside a lighted window. They bent down, staying close to the wall, and waited.

"I've decided what the next move is to be."

Sauset's voice was muffled, but his words were clear to the two hidden outside the window. "It's time to show Blakewell that I'm serious."

"And how do you plan to accomplish that?" Alvarez sounded faintly amused, as though he were participating in some kind of a game instead of tampering with people's lives.

"Don't you mean, how will you accomplish that?"

"Very well, how will I?"

"You're going to England. . . tonight," Sauset stated. He talked slowly, but there was a hectic quality about his voice. "You'll tell him that unless he gives up his plans to go to America immediately, you'll inform the newspapers and his wife of the, shall we say, mistake in his past . . . then give him the letter."

"That sounds interesting," Alvarez said. "But not tonight. I've already canceled too many plans for this crazy scheme of yours. This time it will have to be at my pleasure."

So the worm is going to turn, Kate thought, shooting Alex a look of surprise. At the chateau Alvarez had seemed to be nothing more than a hired hand. Now, as though he had done some powerful thinking on the way to the cottage and had arrived at some interesting conclusions, the Parisian was assuming the upper hand.

Sauset must have recognized the change also for when he spoke again he sounded angry and not a little weary. "Aren't you forgetting about the money that I keep depositing in your account?" Sauset countered. "Don't tell me you're going to do without it?"

"But I won't have to." Alvarez laughed. "Who will you get to deliver your nice little letters if you let me go? Would you like to take them yourself, Charles?"

Kate didn't recognize the words Sauset used next and she was glad. Eventually he calmed down, but his voice was unsteady as he said, "Very well. When can you go?"

Kate almost felt sorry for him. Alvarez seemed to be taking quite a bit of pleasure in holding him under his thumb. Her suspicion was confirmed when the Parisian spoke again.

"I'll have to get back to you on that, Charles," he said smoothly. "You won't have to wait for more than a week or so."

There was no sound from the room for a few seconds, then they heard classical music. Another minute ticked by before Sauset said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You've tormented me just as you intended. Why don't you leave me in peace?" Then the music grew louder and any reply Alvarez had intended to make was lost.

As soon as Alvarez walked out, Alex motioned for Kate to stay and crept around the corner of the cottage. She did as he wanted and waited . . . for a few seconds. Biting her lip anxiously she listened to the violent sounds of Wagner coming from inside, then she couldn't stand the tension any longer and moved silently to follow him.

Peering around the corner of the cottage, she saw Alvarez walking toward his car. When he extended his hand toward the door, Alex stepped out from behind Sauset's car and Kate held her breath.

"Going somewhere, Rene?" Alex asked casually.

Alvarez swung around and Kate prepared herself for an unpleasant argument. But something went wrong. Instead of the verbal confrontation she had expected, Alvarez spat out an angry epithet, then rushed at Alex.

For one frozen moment, the figures of the struggling men were silhouetted against the moonlit sky, then they fell awkwardly to the ground v and Kate couldn't distinguish one from the other. She ran forward, pulling her dress above her knees as she went because it persisted in becoming entangled in her evening sandals.

When she reached them, Alex appeared to have the upper hand. He was sprawled on top of Alvarez, his hands holding his shoulders down. Then somehow the Parisian managed to get his forearm against Alex's throat and was forcing his head back at a painful-looking angle.

Kate stood watching helplessly, then sucked in her breath harshly when she saw Alvarez reach into his jacket with his free hand and pull out a gun.

"Alex," she called out. "He's got a gun."

Alex lashed out viciously to strike his opponent's hand and the gun went Hying. It spun through the air and hit the ground a few feet away, then slithered out of sight beneath the low-slung Jaguar.

Glancing back anxiously, she found to her dismay that the advantage Alex had gained was only momentary. Seconds later the Frenchman surprised him by clasping his hands together tightly and slamming them sideways into the vulnerable area of Alex's throat.