Sweet Liar Part 6

12.

S amantha was dressed primly and properly in a beautifully cut Italian suit that she had no idea had cost Mike over four grand. Sitting in the back of the stretch limo, she kept pulling on the short skirt until Mike picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips while giving a look that asked her to please stop fidgeting. The man across from them glanced from one to the other but made no comment.

aThe man is your grandfather,a Mike said. aThereas no reason to be nervous. And, besides, darling, Iall be there to take care of you.a Samantha shot him a look that said, adrop dead,a and s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. She wasnat nervous about meeting an old man who claimed to be related to her; her nervousness was caused by her asking herself what she was going to do after she left New York. This morning a groggy Mike had asked her if she was packed and if shead made her plane reservations. It was her turn to lie and say that she had. Plane reservations to where? she wondered. There was nothing in Louisville for her; there was certainly nothing in Santa Fe. Maybe shead go to San Francisco. Or maybe shead travel for a while and see something of the world. After all, she was free to go and do whatever she wanted. But the idea of traveling alone didnat send any great charge of excitement vibrating through her.

Now she sat on the plush leather seat of the long limousine and wondered what she was going to do with her life. After this meeting, after Mike got what he wanted from her, theread be no reason to stay in New York. No reason at all.

They rode through the country in the long, black car that Mikeas old gangster had sent to pick them up. She and Mike had done little talking this morning, because Mike had walked into the kitchen with what Samantha could tell was a prepared story about the cut on his head. aIf what youare about to tell me is a lie, Iad rather hear nothing,a shead said. Shead watched him struggle as he tried to form words, but at last head said nothing about his injury. Instead he had asked her if she knew how to make coffee. She said she didnat and had no intention of learning. She had been so furious with him that shead spent the morning in the garden pulling weeds.

After a deli lunch that shead refused to share with him, shead dressed for the meeting with Barrett. At one-thirty there had been a call, and Mike came to tell her that the car would be on time.

aWhy are you so angry with me?a head asked.

aYou spied on me and you started to lie to me about what youad done. I think thatas reason enough for anger.a He hadnat been in the least contrite. Instead, head said smugly, aThere are some things that you shouldnat know.a That had infuriated her more than what head done, and she was determined not to speak to him again, but then the long, black car stopped in front of the house. Mike had picked up her hand and started to slip a ring on it. Instinctively, Samantha drew back from him.

aIf youare my fiance you need a ring. Will this do?a In his hand was a gorgeous diamond ring that was about five carats of a pale yellow. She knew without being told that this was what was called a canary diamond. aIs that real?a she said under her breath.

aIt belonged to my grandmother, and as far as I know, itas real.a She stared at it as he tried to slip it on her finger, but it stuck above her second knuckle. When the doorbell rang, she started to draw away from him, but to her consternation, Mike put her ring finger in his mouth and moved it around. Samas eyes widened, for shead never before experienced anything as utterly sensual as her finger inside this manas warm mouth. She watched Mikeas lips, those lips that fascinated her, as he slowly pulled her damp finger out of his mouth then easily slipped the ring over her knuckle.

aThatas better, isnat it?a aYes,a she said, but her voice came out in a croak. Trying to get control of herself, she cleared her throat. aAhathanks.a aAnytime, Sam, my girl. Anytime, any place, any body part,a he said as he slipped her arm in his and led her out to the waiting limo.

Now, as they finally reached Barrettas house, Samantha looked out the window in awe, for it wasnat a house but an estate, in the full meaning of the word. Huge gates that were flanked by high brick walls opened to a long drive that meandered through a tree-lined park. They seemed to drive for hours before they reached the house, which was as big as an inst.i.tution.

Everywhere they looked there were muscular men jammed into too-tight suits with wires running from their ears down into the backs of their ill-fitting jackets. Two men with lean, hungry-looking dogs on leashes walked around the perimeter of the walls. As Samantha got out of the car, she thought that this must be how the president of the United States was protected, except that there looked to be more men here than shead seen in photos of the president.

Standing for a moment looking about the place, Mike was trying his best to memorize every rock, every tree, and, more importantly, every face around him. He was the first and maybe only outsider to see this compound since Barrett had moved here many years ago, and he was going to have to describe it all in his book.

Mike dawdled as long as he could, even once bending to retie his shoelace. On the surface, everything about the place looked good, but on second glance, Mike saw evidence of neglect: gutters that hadnat been cleaned, a window pane that had been cracked and not replaced, flower gardens that needed weeding. Was it that Doc didnat care how the place looked? On the other hand, maintaining a place this size took a lot of money.

aMove it,a the big man who had ridden with thema"and not said a word during the entire tripa"said as he gave Mike a shove. Mike had to force himself not to retaliate to the manas pus.h.i.+ng as he followed Samantha into the house.

Inside, Samantha was looking about in astonishment. The rooms in the house were huge, made for a time of gracious living, and they were filled with antiques and paintings. Porcelains filled the niches in the walls.

While Samantha was feeling that she wished she had on a hostess gown and a few emeralds, Mike was looking at the place with the eye of one who has grown up in a house that made this one look like a pauperas den. For the most part, the antiques were fakes, as were the paintings and the porcelains. They werenat even very good copies, and there were a couple of places on the walls where the flocked wallpaper was lighter, as though a painting had been removed.

Also, there were no servants in sight, only the goons with the ear wires. Surrept.i.tiously, Mike ran his hand over a table, feeling the dust on it as the guard motioned for them to follow him into another room.

The living room was big and light with windows looking onto the ocean, and at once Samantha went to them to look out, but Mike stayed where he was, looking about the room. There in a corner, sitting in a wheelchair, was the old man Mike had spent the last few years of his life reading and writing about. Mike liked to think he would have known him anywhere, although there had never been, to his knowledge, a photo made of the man, for Barrett had always had an aversion to photographs that verged on an obsession.

At first glance, Barrett looked like any very old man: shrunken, shriveled, dark brown skina"but his eyes gave him away. All the intelligence that had brought this man up from the slums of New York to controlling most of the crime in the city still showed in his eyes. The skin around those eyes might be old and wrinkled, but what was inside them was as young and alert as it ever had been.

Now those eyes were looking at Mike. Head scanned Samantha and dismissed her, as though she were of no significance, but he was studying Mike, looking him up and down as though trying to judge his physical strength as well as trying to figure out what was in his mind. In spite of himself, Mike s.h.i.+vered. It was as though head just been subjected to some sort of other-worldly intelligence that could look inside a man and see what was in his soul.

aWonat you sit down?a the old man whispered. His voice was as frail as his body, and Mike had an idea that Barrettas physical disabilities infuriated him.

Samantha nearly jumped when she heard the manas voice as she had not known anyone else was in the room. Turning, she saw a small, thin old man sitting in a wheelchair. Immediately her heart went out to him, as she wondered if he was lonely here in this big house. Did he have friends and family? She smiled at him.

He gave her what looked like a smile, and she thought, Why, heas shy. Going forward, she offered him her hand and he took it. Holding her hand for a long while, he turned it over in his dry, leathery old palm and studied her young skin.

After a while he released her and motioned for her and Michael to sit down. Samantha did so, starting to take a chair, but Mike pulled her to the couch to sit near him. Giving Mike a bit of a frown that she didnat allow Mr. Barrett to see, she sat forward on the edge of the couch while Mike leaned back in silence.

aYou have come to ask me about Maxie,a Barrett said.

Samantha hadnat thought much about this meeting; shead thought little past getting away from Mike and out of New York, but now she was interested. aMy grandmother left my family the year after I was born, and IaWe thought perhapsaa She looked down at her hands.

Pus.h.i.+ng the controls of his electric wheelchair, Barrett moved closer to her and again took her hand. aAnd you want to ask if Maxie left your family to come to me.a aActuallyaa Samantha began, then looked up at him. aYes.a He smiled at her warmly. aI have not been so flattered in all my life,a he said, squeezing her hand, then put his hand on her chin and moved her head so that the light played on her hair and cheeks.

At other times Samantha would have been annoyed at a stranger touching her, but now all she could think of was that this man might be her only remaining relative and that she had nowhere to go when she left Michaelas house.

Barrett dropped his hand from her face. aYou look like her. You look very much like her.a aIave been told so.a Leaning toward him, she put her hand over his on the controls of the chair. aDo you know what happened to my grandmother?a He shook his head no. aOn the twelfth of May, 1928, she disappeared from my life and I never saw her again.a Letting out her pent-up breath, Samantha suddenly felt as though shead lost something. In just a few minutes she had seemed to fill herself with hope. Never mind that shead told Mike that she didnat care about a grandmother whoad committed adultery, she knew now that if an old woman who said she was Gertrude Elliot, also known as Maxie, had walked through the door, Samantha would have thrown her arms about the womanas neck.

aI didnat really believeaa she said, stammering over the words, then not knowing what else to say. She couldnat very well say, By the way, did you and my grandmother have a cuddle about that time and maybe, perhaps possibly, produce a kid that was my father?

aCome in here,a Barrett said, leading the way in his wheelchair. aWeall have tea and Iall tell you what I know.a aYes, please,a Samantha said, quickly getting up and following him.

Mike, who shead almost forgotten, slipped her arm in his. He was looking at her oddly, as though he were warning her about something, but she didnat have the time or inclination to try to figure out what was bothering him.

She followed the old man into a pretty yellow and white room that had a huge bay window looking out toward the sand and the ocean. Refusing to see the four men, two of them with dogs, walking up and down the area, she saw only the beauty.

The round table, with only two chairs at it, was set with a pretty teapot and two matching cups and saucers, and there was a large plate of little cakes that looked on the edge of being stale.

aWould you pour?a Barrett asked Samantha, pleasing her with his request. He refused to eat or drink, so she served only Michael and herself while Barrett sat quietly and watched her.

aWith the right clothes and hair you could be Maxie,a he whispered. aEven your movements are like hers. Tell me, dear, do you sing?a aSome,a she said modestly, for she had always liked to sing, but only for her family.

The three of them were quiet for a moment, Mike sitting on his chair looking like a preacher at a p.o.r.nography convention. For some reason he seemed to be disapproving of everything she said and did. His absurd jealousy couldnat extend to this sweet old man, could it?

aWould you like for me to tell you about that night?a Barrett asked.

aPlease do,a Samantha said, sipping her tea and eating a small cake. aIf you would like to tell us, that is. If youare not too tired.a She ignored Mikeas foot stepping on hers to tell her that this is what they came for. She was not going to tire a ninety-one-year-old man just so Michael Taggert could write some nasty book about him.

aIt would give me great pleasure to tell you,a he said, smiling at her. In the sunlight he looked older than he had in the living room, and Samantha had an urge to tuck him up on the couch so he could take a nap.

Barrett took a deep breath and began to talk.

aI guess itas an old-fas.h.i.+oned term and it seems out of place now, but I was a gangster. I sold whiskey and beer to people when the government had declared it illegal to sell liquor or even to drink it. Because of some bad things that happened, we sellers of alcohol got a very bad reputation.a He paused to smile at Samantha again.

aI canat offer an apology for what I did. I was young and I didnat know any better. All I knew was that it was the Great Depression, and while other men were standing on bread lines, I was making fifty grand a year. And making money was important to a man when he was in love as I was.a Barrett paused a moment in memory. aMaxie was beautiful. Not loudly beautiful, but quiet and elegant, a real knockout.a He smiled at Samantha fondly. aLike you,a he said, making her blush.

aAnyway, Maxie and I had been a pair for months. Iad asked her to marry me hundreds of times, but she said she wouldnat marry me until I went legit. I wanted to, but I was making too much money and I couldnat see myself settling down somewhere selling insurance. But then came that Sat.u.r.day night that changed so many lives. May the twelfth, 1928.

aWhen I look back on it, I wonder that I didnat have a premonition that night that something was going to happen, but I didnat. I was on top of the world. My right-hand man, Joe, a man whoad been my friend since we were kids together, had picked up the receipts that day and they were the best ever, so I bought Maxie a pair of earrings. Diamonds with pearls. Nothing big or flashy since Maxie didnat like showy jewelry, but these were real nice.

aI went to Jubileeas Placea"thatas where Maxie was singinga"feeling on top of the world. Right away I went to Maxie and gave her the earrings. I thought shead be happy, but she wasnat. She sat down on a chair and started to cry. I couldnat figure out what was wrong with her, and it took me a long time to get it out of her.a Barrettas voice lowered, as though what he was saying was very difficult. aShe told me she was going to have our baby.a Drawing in her breath sharply, Samantha wanted to ask questions, but she didnat dare stop his story.

aMaxie was very upset about her pregnancy, but I was the happiest man in the world,a Barrett said, continuing, abecause I knew then that shead have to agree to marry me. But I was wrong. Even when she was going to have a baby, she still said she wouldnat marry me unless I gave up the rackets.a Barrett gave what on a younger man would have been described as a grin. aI agreed that I would. I would have agreed to anything that night if it meant having the woman I loved marry me. But between you and me, I donat know if I would have stayed away from the rackets. Maybe in a year or so I would have gotten restless and gone back, but that night I meant it when I said I would get out.

aI wanted us to leave the club right then and go get married, but Maxie said she had to sing that night, that she couldnat let Jubilee down. I agreed only if shead promise that it would be her last time to perform in public. In those days there was no talk of a woman wanting a career. All Maxie wanted was what I wanted: a home for the two of us and our children.a Barrett stopped and looked out the window. aShe sang that night and Iad never heard her sing prettier. Like a bird.

aAbout ten oaclock, I guess, she took a break and I got up from my table to go backstage to see her. On the way I made a trip to theayou know, and when I was about to leave, just as my hand was on the door, I heard the first shots and the first screams. I knew right away what had happened. Back in those days I was small potatoes in the business. By that I mean I sold to only a few places, most of them up in Harlem. Most of the city was controlled by a man named Scalpini. I had already figured that Scalpini would have heard of our haul that day and I knew head be mad, but I thought head just send some of his guys over to try to work out a deal with me. But he didnat do that. He sent eight men to Jubileeas Place with typewritersa"machine guns.

aI knew the men were after me, but all I cared about was getting to Maxie. I pushed open the door and already the club was full of screaming, hysterical, running people and blooda"blood was everywhere. I had to push a womanas body aside to get the door open, then I had to walk over two people who were screaming on the floor. The bullets were flying everywhere and I took one in my shoulder then a second one in my side, but I kept going. I was afraid Maxie would leave her dressing room and come out or that maybe Scalpinias men would go after her because Maxie wasnat the kind of woman to think of herself first. Shead never run out the back door if she heard shots coming from the front.

aI almost made it to the back when something fell and hit me on the head. I think it was a chandelier. Whatever it was, it knocked me out cold. When I woke, it was hours later, and there was a man in a white coat bending over me. aThis oneas alive,a he yelled and walked past me. I grabbed his ankle and tried to ask questions, but he shook me off. I think I pa.s.sed out after that, because when I woke again, it was the next day and I was in a hospital, and my side and shoulder were bandaged. It was another day before I found out what happened. Scalpini had decided to get rid of me and all the men who worked for me, so he sent his men over to shoot all of us. It didnat matter to him that there were probably a hundred people in the nightclub that night and that most of them had nothing to do with me. Scalpini meant to kill us all and he very nearly did. I lost seven men that night.a He paused for a long while, and when Barrett spoke again, there was a catch in his voice. aI lost Joe that night. Joe was my childhood friend, and head saved my life when we were kids. He was the only person I have ever before or since trusted. Joe was dead, took a bullet right through the forehead, so he must have died instantly. And there were twenty-five or so others either killed or injured that night. But worst of all, Maxie disappeared. No one knew what had happened to her. For a long time after that I searched for her, but I couldnat find any trace of her. She walked out, and Iam sure it was my fault. Maybe she knew I wouldnat be able to do anything that wasnat exciting, maybe she didnat want her child raised with a gangster for a father. I donat know. All I know is that I never saw or heard from her again.a He stopped talking for a moment, then took some long, slow breaths to calm himself. aI changed after that night. Iad lost the two most important people in my lifea"my best friend, my only friend, and the woman I loved. Samantha, can you understand how miserable I was after that night?a aYes,a she whispered. aI understand what it feels like to lose everyone.a aItas better not to talk about the next few years of my life. I was not a pleasant person. I donat know what I would have become if this hadnat happened.a He put his hands on the controls of the wheelchair. aI was in a car accident two years later, and my spinal cord was severed.a Comfortingly Samantha put her hand over his.

aIave done things in my life that Iam not proud of, but I think I would have been a different man if that night hadnat happened. I used to think about it a great deal, what would have happened if Maxie hadnat stayed to sing that night. If shead left with me before Scalpinias men showed up, we probably would have been married before we heard the news of what had happened. If shead left with me, Joe would have gone with us and he wouldnat have died either.a He looked off into the distance. aIf Maxie hadnat wanted to stay and sing, everything would have been different.a Reaching out, he touched Samanthaas cheek. aMaybe if Iad married her and waked up to hear of the bloodbath at the club, maybe it would have scared me into going straight. Maybeaa His eyes grew misty. aMaybe now you would be my granddaughter, not just my biological granddaughter, but living here with me.a He smiled. aPerhaps not here. Perhaps Iad be living in a house in suburbia somewhere, a retired insurance salesman.a He touched her blonde hair. aLike Midas, Iad trade all my gold for the warmth of a child.a

13.

aI wonder what happened to her?a Samantha asked.

She and Mike were sitting in the backyard at the picnic table, eating from several white paper cartons of Chinese food that theyad had delivered.

aHappened to who?a Mike asked, although he knew very well who she was talking about.

aIf my grandmother didnat leave my granddad Cal to go to Mr. Barrett, where did she go?a aThatas what your father wanted to know,a Mike mumbled, looking down at his plate. Something was bothering him, and he wasnat exactly sure what it was. They had left Barrettas house immediately after the old man had finished his long, sad story. All the way into Manhattan Samantha had been very quiet, looking out the window with a slight smile on her face, as though something had pleased her very much. Now she wasnat eating but making little piles of her food on the paper plate.

aDo you think he lives alone in that huge house?a aProbably. He seems to have killed most every person heas known over the years.a Samantha gave him a look of fury. aWhy do you have to say so many bad things about him? I thought that writers were supposed to like the people theyare writing about.a aOh? How about the writers who do studies on serial killers? I donat like Barrett and I never will, but the man fascinates me. No one has ever tried to doc.u.ment what heas done in his life. No one actually knows what the man is capable of doing.a Samantha took a moment before she spoke. aHe seemed like a nice man to me,a she said softly.

Mike had to swallow before he could speak; he had to take a breath before he could say a word. aWhat is it about women and their love of a sob story? Some man youave never met hands you a tearjerker about true love lost and you fall for it. I especially loved the Midas part. I wonder if he rehea.r.s.ed his little speech before he told it to you?a Standing up, she glared down at him. aAnd I am sick of your jealousy! From the moment I first saw you, you have acted as though you own me. You have invaded my privacy; you have followed me and humiliated me and, in general, made my life miserable. And I donat even know you. You are nothing to me.a aIam more to you than Barrett is,a Mike said, standing up and leaning across the table toward her.

aNo youare not,a she said quietly. aHeas my grandfather, my last living relative on earth.a Mike drew his breath in sharply. Now he knew what had been bothering him about the expression on her face when they had been riding back from Barrettas place. She had been smiling in contentment, smiling as though shead found something that had been lost. aSam,a he said, putting his hand out to touch her.

But she drew away from him, not wanting to hear what he had to say. He could afford to be a know-it-all about her having found a living relative because he had what appeared to be thousands of relatives all over America. Someone like him couldnat possibly understand what it meant to be completely and absolutely alone in the world. He wouldnat understand the concept of Thanksgiving dinner with no one to invite or Christmas with no one to buy presents for. Someone who had so much family that he could afford to be cynical about them, could happily say mean things about them, couldnat understand. Maybe this man Barrett had done some awful things in his youth; maybe everything that Mike knew about him was true, but now he was an old, man and he was alonea"and Samantha was alone as well.

Turning away from this man who was a stranger to her, she started back into the house.

Stepping in front of her, Mike put his hands on her shoulders. aSam, where are you going?a aUpstairs. I do believe I am free enough to be allowed to do that, arenat I?a Mike didnat release his hold on her. aI want to know whatas in your head. I donat like the look in your eyes.a aI donat like the look in your eyes most of the time,a she snapped. aPlease let me go. I have to pack.a aIam not going to release you until you tell me where you plan to go after you leave this house.a aAs Iave told you a thousand times, what I do in my life and what I have done are none of your business. Iall go where I want to go.a Mike bent to look into her eyes, but she turned her head away. aYouare going to him, arenat you?a aItas none of youra"a aSam, you canat go to that man! Heas a killer!a She gave him a look of disgust. aHeas ninety-one years old, and heas in a wheelchair. What possible reason would he have to harm me? Iam not rich, so it canat be that he wants my money. I somehow doubt that he wants s.e.x from me. Maybe his whole story is a lie. Maybe he concocted the whole thing in an effort to get Maxieas granddaughter to live with him for his last fewa"very fewa"remaining years. If thatas true, then whatas wrong with it? Heas a lonely old man and Iamaa She broke off, not wanting to say any more.

aGo ahead and say it. Youare a lonely young woman.a His voice softened, his hands dropping to her arms as he moved closer to her. aTell me what you want, Samantha. Tell me what you want and Iall try to give it to you. Is it love you want? Then Ialla"a She jerked out of his grasp. aDonat you dare tell me youall give me love. Iave had all the love from greedy young men that I can take. What do I have to say to you, do to you to make you realize that Iam serious: I donat want to stay in this house with you. I donat want to go to bed with you; I donat want to have anything to do with you.a Mike stared at her for a moment, his expression changing from anger to bewilderment, then finally to resignation. aI can take a hint,a he said with a little smile of mockery. aYou are free to do what you want. In the morning I will go to the bank and get your money for you. Is a cas.h.i.+eras check all right with you?a aYes, fine,a she said quickly, then turned away and started for the stairs toward her apartment. Stopping on the first tread, she looked back at him. aMike, I do appreciate what youave tried to do for me. I sincerely believe that your heart has always been in the right place. Itas just that you donat know me, not really. I think you have an image of me that Iamaa She took a breath. aThat Iam one of your wounded birds. Iam not. I know what I want.a aBarrett,a Mike said tersely. aYou want that old man because he says he might be related to you. Heas nevera"a He didnat say any more because Samantha ran up the stairs.

When she was upstairs, she closed the door behind her and turned the key in the lock. Not that locking the door would do any good, she thought with disgust, because he had his own key.

She dragged her big suitcase out of the closet, put it on the bed, and began to pack. With each of her new, heavenly garments she folded away, she felt sadness at leaving this apartment, at leaving this house that had become familiar to her. But she did her best to strengthen her resolve and kept packing.

When half of the suitcase was filled, she sat on the edge of the bed. Where was she going to go? It wasnat as though Mr. Barrett had asked her to come live with him, although she had seen that he very much needed a good housekeeper to take care of his neglected house. And it wasnat as though Michael Taggert wanted her for anything except s.e.x. It always amazed her that men though if they couldnat aconquera a woman, then they had failed. Sometimes she thought that when a man was pestering her without ceasing, she ought to just lay down on the bed and give him what he wanted so head go away. Maybe thatas what she should do with Mike. After head had what he wanted from her, he wouldnat care whether she stayed in his house, whether she went to live with a former gangster, or what she did.

Standing up, she continued packing. She didnat want to give Mike what he wanted, didnat want to hear him say all the things that men say when theyare trying to get under a womanas skirts: that he loved her and wanted to live with her for the rest of his life, that he was nothing without her, that she was everything to him. No, she didnat want that from Mike, because up until now, head been a friend to her. Head been kind at times, if a bit autocratic. If she were honest with herself, she found his jealousy flattering. Mike had spent time with her. The day they had gone shopping had been one of the most joyous of her life. He had made her laugh, and at times head made her forget all the death that had followed her in her life.

She started to slip a pair of shoes into her bag, then stopped. All her life she would remember this time with Mike, remember the arguments theyad had, remember how head made her angry at every turn. Shead remember the way he looked after his shower, his hair wet, wearing only a pair of jeans, his feet and chest bare. Shead remember every touch, every look. Shead remember the way he smiled, just slightly out of one side of his mouth, as though his smile were tinted with sarcasm and disbelief that there was something to smile about.

She jammed the shoes into the case. Maybe shead move to Seattle. Living around the rain forest might be nice. After the dryness of Santa Fe, her skin could stand living where it was foggy and cool.

She finished packing and set the suitcase on the floor. In the morning she would leave. What was she going to do? Have a taxi take her to the airport then go to an airline counter and say shead like a ticket on the next available plane?

aNot exactly well thought out, are you, Sam?a she said aloud, then smiled at having called herself Sam. When shead turned eleven and three-quarters, she had become aware of herself as a female and had declared to her family that she was no longer to be called a boyas name. From then on she was to be called Samantha. Her father and grandfather had readily complied, but her mother had infuriated her by laughing and continuing to call her Sam. After her mother died, no one had called her Sama"until shead met Mike, that is.

Looking around the room, at her fatheras furniture, at her fatheras colors, for the first time she thought that maybe shead like different curtains. Maybe rose-colored damask, she thought, and maybe she could put a matching spread on the bed.

She began unb.u.t.toning her blouse, her nightgown over her arm, as she walked toward the bathroom to take a shower. In her next place of residence she could do whatever she wanted with the curtains and furniture.

There was no warning. One minute Samantha was asleep and the next there was a hand around her throat and she was fighting for her life. She clawed at the hand that was cutting off her breath, but even when she felt her nails tear his skin, he didnat move.

aWhere is Half Handas money?a the man whispered.

The moonlight coming through the window allowed her to see that he wore a stocking over his head.

aWhere is Half Handas money?a he repeated, but he didnat loosen the pressure on her throat to allow her to answer.

Samantha tried to kick him, but he was beside her in such a way that she couldnat reach his body. Besides, with no air getting to her lungs, she was losing strength. Michael, she thought, then used what little strength she had remaining to hit the wall with her heel. Once, she hit it. Twice. Three times. Then she began to fade out of reality as the pressure on her throat continued.

When the pressure was abruptly taken away from her throat, at first she still couldnat breathe. It was as though parts of her throat had been crushed beyond usefulness, and when she gasped, no air entered her lungs. Even when she sat up in the bed, her hand to her injured throat, she still couldnat breathe.

Turning quickly to the sound of a loud crash, she saw the shadow of Michael as he fought the man who had been trying to kill her. Mike was bigger than the man, stronger, and when Mikeas fist plowed into the manas face, he hadnat a chance to survive the blow. As the man fell to the floor with a thud, Mike was beside her, his arms around her.

aBreathe, baby,a he commanded her. aG.o.dd.a.m.n you! Breathe!a Hitting her on the back, he held her as Samantha gasped for air. Mikeas strong hands clutched her shoulders, giving her a little shake as his eyes bored into hers. It was as though he were commanding her to do what she couldnat, yet she found herself wanting to breathe, if for no other reason than to do what he wanted. After what seemed to be hours, the air entered her lungs in a painful, jerking gasp.

Pulling her into his arms, her head on his bare shoulder, he stroked her back. He put one hand on her head, cradling it as she struggled with breath after breath, her chest heaving in little spasms.

Feeling Mike turn away when he heard a crash, she knew without looking that the intruder had regained consciousness and had leaped from the balcony.

aI hope he breaks his b.l.o.o.d.y neck,a Mike whispered, but they both heard the man as he ran away across the garden below. No doubt he had leaped from one balcony to the next to reach the garden, then vaulted over the fence.

Still holding her, Mike reached for the bedside telephone and punched the b.u.t.tons. aBlair,a he said into the phone. aI need you. No. Strangulation. Get here quick.a He put down the phone.

aMike,a Samantha tried to say, but he told her to be quiet and continued holding her.

He felt her shaking against him, felt the fear in her as she clung to him, clung like a frightened child to its father, as he soothed her, rubbing her back, stroking her hair. When she continued to shake, he slid down in the bed with her, then wrapped his arms about her body, pinning her arms against his chest. He moved a leg over her, as though to completely encase her in a coc.o.o.n of safety.

aIam here, baby,a he whispered, frowning into the darkness as she seemed to try to get closer to him.

A wounded bird, shead said. Shead said that she wasnat one of his wounded birds, and he was sure shead heard that particular bit of idiocy from Daphne. If Mike were into awounded birds,a he would have been madly in love with Daphne.

Samantha intrigued him; shead intrigued him since before head met her.

After he found the newspaper clipping of Sam and Maxie in his uncle Mikeas belongings and had searched out Dave Elliot, Mike had spent some time with Dave. Mike hadnat meant to stay in Louisville, but he and Dave had liked each other. Dave was lonely, what with his only child all the way out West and, as Dave said, happily married. Maybe Mike was a little lonely too since the death of Uncle Mike. Together, the two men had come up with the scheme to live together in New York in Mikeas town house, where Dave could spend his retirement looking for his mother and helping Mike with the biography of Doc. Mike had liked the idea, liked having someone help him with the research.

Then, after Dave had commissioned Mikeas sister to decorate the apartment just as Dave wanted, he had called Mike and said he wasnat going to be coming to New York after all. He wouldnat tell Mike what the problem was, but Mike knew something was wrong, so he got on the first plane to Louisville and appeared at Daveas door, suitcase in hand, and demanded to be told what was going on. Dave had blurted what head been told only a few days before: He was dying of cancer. Mike had wanted him to call his daughter and tell her, but Dave had said no, that Samantha had had enough death in her short life and she didnat need to see any more.

So Mike had moved in with Dave for a month. Dave had said he was fine, but Mike hadnat been able to leave him, for he couldnat bear to see the man alone when he knew he had so little time left.