French Silk

Chapter 23

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Claire drew up short when she rounded the corner and saw Cassidy standing at the door of French Silk. It was the first time she'd seen him since the morning he'd stormed from her bedroom at Rosesharon. Seeing him so unexpectedly caused a catch in her breath. Her heart jumped. But she kept her expression impassive and tried to appear unruffled as she approached him. "Hello, Cassidy."

"Claire." He nodded. "Nice evening, isn't it?" He was perspiring and seemed to be suffering a shortness of breath more severe than her own.

"It's unseasonably warm. Autumn hasn't come to New Orleans yet."

He whisked off a bead of sweat that had made its way through his dense eyebrow and was trickling toward his eye. "Damn right. It's as hot and sticky as a cheap whore on Saturday night."

Claire's hackles rose. "I don't appreciate your crude analogy, Mr. Cassidy."

"Oh, we're back to Mr. Cassidy."

She wanted to slap the ingratiating grin off his face. Stiffly, she said, "I'm going in." Demonstrators were marching in front of the building. Their chorus of "Onward, Christian Soldiers" was slow and ponderous. Claire hoped they were growing tired and getting blisters on their feet.

Unnoticed, she slipped in through the side door. Before she could close it, Cassidy followed her inside. "What do you want?" she asked inhospitably. "I think we've exhausted the subject of the weather."

"I was in the neighborhood," he replied casually. "Thought I'd stop and say hi."

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, she noted. He hadn't yet caught his breath. Beneath his suit jacket, the front of his shirt was damp. "I appreciate the friendly gesture," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse—"

"Want to go for a bite of supper somewhere?"

"No, thank you. I ate earlier with Mama."

"Oh, you ate in tonight?"

"That's right."

"Then you were just out for an evening stroll?"

"I was busy at my desk all day. I needed to stretch my legs."

"Go any place in particular?"

"No. Just walked." She sidestepped him and tried to open the door for him. "I'm sorry, Cassidy, but I'd better get upstairs and check on Mama. I had to leave her al—"

Cassidy grabbed her shoulders and backed her up against the door. "You left her alone so you could keep your date with Joshua Wilde at the Gumbo Shop."

She had begun to smell a trap, but she was still astonished when the jaws of it sprang closed around her. She cast about for a logical explanation, but none came to her, so she responded with a counterattack.

"You were following me? Were the stories in the newspapers only decoys to throw me off guard?"

"You weren't under surveillance. We were tailing Josh. Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be his date."

"If you knew where I was and with whom, why the charade, Cassidy?"

"I took another route and sprinted back here. I wanted to see if you would level with me. As usual, you lied."

"Because I knew you wouldn't understand."

"You knew I wouldn't swallow any more of your lies." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "But give it a whirl, Claire. Try me. When did you first become acquainted with Joshua Wilde?"

"Tonight."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit?"

"I swear! I made several calls this afternoon until I located where he was staying. I asked him to meet me. He agreed to."

"Why?"

"Probably because he was curious to meet the scandalous owner of French Silk."

Cassidy shook his head. "I meant why did you want to meet with him? What could the two of you possibly have to talk about?"

"I offered him money."

"Money?" he repeated, taken aback.

"Yes. In exchange for his influence over Ariel. I asked him to try to persuade her to stop making allegations about me and my mother, to stop the picket lines, in general to call a truce to this whole mess. I told him I want to live my life and operate my business in peace, no matter what it costs me."

"You tried bribing him? Is that what you're telling me?"

"You're standing too close," Claire murmured. "I can't breathe."

Cassidy's eyes, which had been probing hers, blinked into awareness. He looked down, saw the white ridges of his knuckles where his fingers were still clenching her shoulders, saw that his body had hers tightly sandwiched between it and the door behind her, and backed away, lowering his hands to his sides.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're not off the hook yet. Keep talking."

"That's essentially it. I know that Jackson, and probably Ariel and Josh, too, took payola from other publications in exchange for immunity."

"How do you know that?"

"It only makes sense, doesn't it? Publications that should have been on that list—Jackson Wilde's hit list, as you called it—were noticeably absent. What about Lickety Split and Hot Pants? Why was a lingerie catalog a target for Jackson Wilde's pulpit and not those porno magazines? It has to be because they were making certain that Wilde would leave them alone." She looked at Cassidy with dawning insight. "You've probably thought of this yourself."

"I've got people checking on it, yeah. What did Josh have to say?"

"He didn't admit that his father took bribes, but he didn't deny it either."

"Why have you waited until now to think up this alternative solution? You could have paid off Jackson a year ago and spared yourself all this hardship. Did you ever approach him about it?"

"No. Only in the form of the offering you already know about."

"Then why now, Claire?"

"I'm sick of it, that's why," she exclaimed. "Wouldn't you be? The signs the protesters carry make me out to be a twentieth-century Jezebel. My mother reads them and becomes upset. The people who carry them harass my employees when they report for work. They impede my business by creating traffic jams that make it difficult for us to receive deliveries or ship out goods. One trucking company has already threatened to increase their charges because their drivers have complained about it so much."

She threw back her head as though imploring heaven for relief. "For months before Jackson Wilde was killed, he was a thorn in my side. And now, weeks after his death, he still is. I want the specter of him out of my life. I want to be rid of him once and for all."

She realized at once that her words had been ill chosen. She looked quickly at Cassidy, who was watching her closely. "And killing him didn't quite do it."

"That's not what I said."

"Have I been barking up the wrong tree, Claire? Was it you and Josh who were in cahoots and not him and his stepmother?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I met Joshua Wilde for the first time tonight."

"You're lying, Claire."

"I'm not!"

Cassidy snorted a laugh. He moved away a few steps, turned his head, and studied a stack of shipping crates before swinging his gaze back to her. "Give me a little credit. I know you significantly better now than I did a few weeks ago."

All the excitement and passion that had seized them during the thunderstorm at Rosesharon enveloped them now. Claire was the first to draw her stare away from his. "I'm not lying. I met with Joshua Wilde tonight and offered him a check in exchange for peace and quiet."

"Maybe. But what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"Claire!"

"Nothing!"

Cassidy swore beneath his breath. "Okay, I'll play along. How'd Josh react?"

"He was incensed."

"Turned you down?" he asked incredulously.

"Flat. He said he isn't an extortionist." She gave Cassidy a level look, lifting her chin a notch. "I believe him."

"Then you're in the minority, because I'm not buying any of this crap. You offered Josh a bribe and he turned it down. Is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

"I don't give a damn what you believe."

"You'd better give a damn, Claire. Because I think you're concealing the real reason you made an appointment with Joshua Wilde."

"What other reason could I have?"

"I don't know, but I find it hard to swallow that you would offer anybody a bribe. First of all, you're too proud. Second, you don't care that much about the public's opinion of you. Finally, you told me yourself that this mess has been good for your business, so the Wildes aren't placing it in jeopardy. And I find it even harder to believe that Josh would refuse a bribe. In either case, it's suspicious as hell."

"You never give up, do you?"

"No. I can't. I'm paid not to."

"But you might be forced to. You're going to be replaced. Powerful people are calling for your head on a platter. Even your mentor, Anthony Crowder, won't defend you much longer."

"What's your point?" he said tightly.

"You're trying to build something from nothing. You're no closer to solving Wilde's murder than you were the morning following the crime."

"Don't be so sure."

"I'm sure of one thing. His son didn't kill him."

"Then that still leaves you, doesn't it, Claire?" He reached around her for the door and left without saying goodbye.

* * *

"Oh, Christ. Go away and leave me alone."

"Open up."

The hotel room door was closed momentarily so the chain lock could be released, then Josh opened it. "It's late," he grumbled.

Cassidy walked into the room and took a slow look around. The bed was still made, although the covers were rumpled. "You hadn't gone to bed yet. My guess is you'll have trouble sleeping tonight, Josh. I know I will."

Josh threw himself into one of the two easy chairs in the room and motioned Cassidy into its twin. "You're a bastard, Mr. Cassidy. I went to you of my own volition, spilled my guts, shared with you what I mistakenly assumed was privileged information. Next thing I know, it's front-page news. Ariel's gone ape-shit and will no longer speak to me. She fired me, you know. The moment the headlines hit the newsstands, Judas Iscariot here was history with the Prayer and Praise Hour. I think she fully expects me to go out and hang myself."

"Bet getting fired came as a blow."

Josh chuckled sourly. "Best thing that's ever happened to me. You'll probably find that hard to believe, but I swear to God it's the truth. I feel freer than I've ever felt in my life."

"Funny. You don't look like a guy sitting on top of the world," Cassidy remarked. "You look like you've been dunked in a tub of shit."

"I've got you to thank for that. The most recent stories I'm reading in the papers are strongly hinting that I might be a suspect again."

"By definition, Josh, suspect means someone whose actions are suspicious."

Josh raised his shoulders in an innocent shrug. "Like what?"

"Like trying to cast doubt on your stepmother/lover."

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Your conscience got the best of you?" Cassidy asked caustically.

"I didn't want to go down with her. I told you that."

"Okay. Explain this. Why'd you meet with Claire Laurent tonight?"

Josh's eyes sharpened on Cassidy. "How'd you know about that? Did you have me followed?"

"I saw you myself when you left The Gumbo Shop."

"You just happened to be passing by?" Josh asked angrily.

"Answer the question."

Cassidy's shout squelched Josh's brief, indignant outburst. He cast around for something to look at besides Cassidy's incisive stare. "She called and arranged that meeting, not me."

"You and the owner of French Silk make a very strange pairing."

Josh left his chair and began moving restlessly around the room. His motions were disjointed, jerky. "I nearly dropped the phone when she called and identified herself."

"You'd never met her before tonight?"

"Hell no. After all the dirty water that's gone under that bridge, she was the last person I ever expected to call and ask if I'd meet her for drinks."

Like Claire, Josh was lying or at the very least expurgating the truth. Cassidy went fishing. "Classy-looking lady."

"I guess," Josh replied warily.

"You appeared to be upset when you left the restaurant."

"I was."

"Let's stop dancing around it. What'd she want, Josh?"

"It has nothing to do with my father's murder."

"Let me decide that."

The younger man seemed to wrestle with himself for several moments before blurting out, "She offered me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars to call off our dogs."

Cassidy whistled. "Pretty steep price to pay to stop a protest demonstration."

"All that stuff. The picketing. The prank calls. The things Ariel's telling the papers. Ms. Laurent wants it to stop. Can't say that I blame her."

"So what'd you tell her?"

"I told her to piss off. What she obviously doesn't know is that I don't wield any influence over Ariel. Since Daddy died, she calls the shots, not me. I couldn't put a muzzle on her if I wanted to."

"So you declined Claire's offer?"

"I tore her check in two and symbolically threw it in her face. I told her that I had nothing to do with the ministry's operation. Never had. Never will. Never even wanted to. I play—played—the piano. That's it. That's all I ever wanted to do. I don't make the policies. I didn't cultivate my father's enemies. He was capable of doing that quite well all by himself. If he was accepting bribes, that was his business. I don't want any part of it."

"You're out of a job. You could have promised her what she wanted to hear, taken the check, and laughed about it all the way to the bank."

Josh gave him a cold, hostile stare. "You're full of shit, Cassidy. Get out."

"Not so fast. You were in there for more than half an hour. Is that all you and Claire talked about?"

"There were a lot of awkward silences."

"Oh, come on!"

"I'm serious. Once she got to the point, it was over in a matter of minutes. She picked up the pieces of the check, put them in her purse, and laid down enough money to cover our drinks. As we left, she said goodbye. That's all."

"You paused on the sidewalk as though you were tempted to go after her."

Josh raked back the wave that had fallen over his forehead. "I don't remember that."

"I do. Distinctly." Cassidy leaned forward. "Were you having second thoughts about taking the money?"

"No. I'm not a murderer and I'm not a thief." Cassidy wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him. "There's something you're not telling me, Josh. I'm through screwing around with you. What are you holding back?"

* * *