She scraped back the chair and stood in one motion. “Farewell and good luck. I’ll send in the guards. There’s been…pressure to set you free. My assessment will be that you’re not to be prosecuted.” She saluted, signaled to the hastily packing stenographer, and headed for the door. It swung open smoothly, let them both through, clicked shut.
For a lieutenant, the woman seemed to have her fingers on the pulse of power.
Even so, Claire was alone with whoever was back there, and still chained to the chair.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dankyo leaned close and whispered in Theo’s ear, “She knows you’re here, sir. Or suspects.”
“Yes.” A monotone answer. He wouldn’t give Dankyo the satisfaction. He was, had been, so angry, and even now with it ebbing, he knew this couldn’t work. Sadness was taking its place. They could have had so much.
He’d thought he’d loved her, but this would break any relationship. He couldn’t deny that he wanted her safe. Seeing her there chained to the chair and sad, it wrecked him. She was crying too. Not something he could see, but he knew. Wanted to go and wipe away, kiss away those tears. Not to be. He’d make sure she was sent somewhere she could start a life anew, and be done with her.
He rose. “Let’s go.”
“Sir?”
“I’ll see those blasted tortoise-like guards get in here and release her. Come.” The less said the better. God knew how acute her hearing was, and he didn’t want to raise false hopes.
*
It had been him. The whispers had carried. Yet he didn’t come to her.
So be it. She’d wait. If he bothered to be here now, there might be another time. She wouldn’t stop trying. Couldn’t.
She slowly caved in until her forehead rested on the table, needing the support. God. Please, let this be over.
*
Later that day, Dankyo visited her. She’d never seen him so haggard. His uniform bore creases, and his eyes were red. The guard clanged shut the cell door, locking him in with her.
She hauled herself into a sitting position on the bed.
Dankyo looked about and seemed to realize the bed was the only structure made for sitting. He sat gingerly next to her, bowing the bed enough to make the springs groan.
This was the man closest to Theo. If anyone could help her, it was him. Yet, if she were drowning, Dankyo was the last person she’d want throwing her a rope, for it seemed likely that attached to the very end would be a crocodile.
“Why are you here, Dankyo?”
“I’m here…because it’s clear that you are the one thing Theodore Kevonis thinks he needs that he cannot have. Not having you is destroying him, and I aim to help you two get together again. Clear?”
“Ah. Whoa. Yes. You really don’t mince words, do you?” And—oh my God—her little spark of hope kindled and rose to a blazing fire.
“No. I cannot see the point. But, also, let me state that this is more a catharsis. I want you out of his system, and the only way to do that is to let him see you’re not who he thought you were. You’ve hurt him deeply. I believe he will then realize you must leave, permanently. And once that’s done, we’re done. Clear? You get a last good-bye from this.”
She sat back, feeling like he’d grabbed her by the throat. Huh. This is the crocodile at the end. Did Dankyo think so little of her? Her resolve solidified into a metal-girded juggernaut. Be damned if she’d let Dankyo tell her what to do.
She’d never been a doormat—well, unless it was Theo, but then he stepped on her so…pleasingly
She’d run over Dankyo in an instant to get to Theo. Be a darn big bump in the road, but she’d do it. Disappointing in a way, though. After the talk in the buggy, she’d begun to think Dankyo an almost ally, even a potential friend, and she didn’t have enough of those to go losing them.
Hmph. We’ll see who gets to say good-bye.
“I get a last good-bye?” She eyed him narrowly. “What must I do? And, let me be clear here. I will do anything.”
“Well. That is the problem. I don’t really know.” He ran his hand over his short hair.
“Not much help then, are you?” But still, she grinned weakly at him. Dankyo, sitting with me, wanting to help. No matter his strange back-to-front logic, this is my best hope. Lord.
He glared. “I’ll send you word once I get something sorted out. Don’t disappoint me.”
Her grin shrank to a flat smile. “I won’t.”
For the rest of that day, and most of the next, she was left alone. At five o’clock in the afternoon, a summons was delivered. The president, the man she was to have killed, had asked to see her. She’d been part of an assassination plot. Was this to be the passing of judgment or something more terrible?
The guards marched her in, without handcuffs, free to move, and left her in the ballroom, though now it was filled with emptiness and silence instead of people and laughter. Three men stood fifty yards away, waiting. Theodore Christakos, her Theo, and then Dankyo, looking self-satisfied and a few steps back from the others.
“Claire.” The president beckoned.
She started.