Do You Love Me? Read online

  Merriam appeared in the doorway of the great room, wiping her hands on a T-towel. “We’re going to play cards at my sister’s. I left the cobbler on the back of the stove in case Peter comes looking for it.”

  Savanna glanced up from her desk cluttered with checkbooks and bank statements and smiled. “Right.”

  Merriam disappeared as Carol drifted down stairs, obviously looking for action. She ambled into the downstairs den and Savanna heard the television as her companion surfed through channels, then silence.

  “It’s too early to go to bed.” Carol reappeared in the great room, looking restless. She gazed out at the pool. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I think I’ll run to town for a while, go by home, check my mail, pick up my Tropicana nail polish and some clothes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want to go, get out of the house?”

  Savanna frowned at the work spread before her. “I’d better not. Bring some ice cream, will you? Strawberry cheesecake from Braum’s. You can detour through the drive-through at the one on Chevy Chase, if you come back that way.”

  “Right. Will you quit when I get back so we can gab?”

  “Yes. By the time you get back, I should be ready for the mother of all blink breaks.”

  It took Carol a while to gather dirty clothes and get herself gone.

  Savanna assumed her house guest had forgotten something, most likely her keys, when the doorbell chimed moments later.

  “What kept you?” She was giggling as she opened the door, then took a step back from the intense look on the glowering face of Darryl Hightower.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What kept me?” He repeated. “Mainly, I had to get control of my temper before I risked a face-to-face. I was genuinely afraid of what I might do to you.” His fists were clenched, and his jaw quivered.

  Savanna moved to block his path.

  He sneered. “You are going to let me in, princess.” He sounded determined.

  “I can’t imagine why you’re here, much less why you’d want to come in. There’s nothing you can say to excuse the things you’ve done.”

  “If you really thought I was a thief, why didn’t you call the police?”

  “I didn’t want to see you go to prison.”

  He minced a step closer and, in spite of warning bells in her head, Savanna yielded the doorway. He glided forward, forcing her back into the foyer. He shoved the door shut behind him. “I told my parents we were getting married.”

  She heard a little gasp and realized the sound had come from her. “Darryl, I told you before the…the embezzlement came to light, I have no intention of marrying, not you or anyone else.”

  “True, but you made those noises before we had sex. I figured sleeping together was a clincher.”

  “Not so. I have never wanted to marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “A dozen reasons.”

  “Name one.”

  “Well, first off, you’re a thief.”

  “Big deal. Consider it an advance on what will come to me eventually anyway, from my wife-to-be.”

  “I’ve never been your wife-to-be.”

  “Then we have a problem.” He stepped closer and puffed up, emphasizing his size advantage. “Your confusion about this is my fault, Savanna. I apologize. Obviously, I didn’t make myself clear. Somehow I gave you the impression that marrying me was your decision. It’s not. I plan to make everything you have mine. Texas is a community property state. You only need to decide the when and where.”

  He grabbed her arm, clamping his thumb and forefinger into the tender spot above her elbow, and squeezed.

  “That hurts, you stupid…” She yanked her arm free.

  “Oh, no, baby. That didn’t hurt, not compared to what you’re about to get. If I gave in to my anger, Savanna, you’d get your first real introduction to pain. Before this night is over, you’ll be begging to give me anything I want. You’ve never known actual physical pain, have you? Not during all the years of your pampered, useless existence. Your parents and grandparents handing control of the company and all that money to you is like those idiots who leave fortunes to their cats.”

  Trying to think, she eased sideways to put distance between them. His eyes were oddly bright but he didn’t sound or smell as if he had been drinking.

  Had Carol left before Darryl drove up? If Carol had recognized his car on the road, she might come back, but Carol wouldn’t know he might be a threat. Savanna had not discussed the embezzlement with anyone but Murphy Eth.

  Murphy was supposed to have someone following Darryl. If someone was, maybe they would report his visit here and Murphy would send help.

  Merriam and Angus were gone for the evening.

  What about Peter?

  She prayed he was in the loft or lifting weights, somewhere close. It was a long shot but he seemed to be her most immediate hope for help, or to pick up the pieces after whatever was about to happen here happened.

  She would play along, do whatever Darryl said. He seemed peculiarly unstable at the moment, like a ticking bomb.

  One step at a time, she sidled toward the French doors which opened onto the deck. Please, Lord, don’t let Peter have chosen this night to go out.

  As she backed through the great room, Darryl stalked her droning on, enjoying the sound of his own voice as he told her plans he’d made for spending their money.

  She struggled to remain calm while making her way to the exit.

  At the threshold, she felt for the latch.

  If they were outside by the pool, maybe their voices would carry to the rooms above the garage and Peter would come to investigate.

  Outside, Savanna drew a gulp of fresh air. “Darryl, let’s sit by the pool.” She spoke loudly.

  Focused on his own agenda, Darryl didn’t appear to care where they held this conversation, or to notice her increased volume. Outside, however, he looked around as if he were surprised.

  “How far do you plan to go, Savanna?”

  His confidence frightened her.

  He said, “Your hired help’s all gone. I was parked down the road when they drove by. I was still there when your good buddy came rolling out.”

  Did he mean her buddy Carol or did he mean Peter?

  Darryl might not know Peter lived on the grounds. How could he? Unless there had been gossip.

  Darryl continued speaking. “Your neighbors, bless ‘em, live in sealed houses that pretty well eliminate inconvenient sounds coming from outside, loud motors, screams, any nasty old noise pollution.” He allowed a calculated grin. “It’s just you and me, honey, deal making.”

  Savanna looked around for a weapon, something to keep him away from her. She couldn’t imagine what was written on papers he produced from his coat pocket and smoothed.

  The set of his jaw, the confident strut, his itemized recitation regarding the absence of other members of the household grew ominous. Her heart hammered. Chills prickled the back of her neck. She didn’t know this man anymore, if she had ever really known him at all.

  She inched backward toward the fence, as he paced toward her. His voice was graveled as he proffered the papers in his hands. “Sign.”

  He was a civilized person. He wouldn’t try to coerce her physically into signing some document. Or would he?

  She shrugged, less a communication with him than reassurance to herself. Under the circumstances, she’d sign anything he wanted. She knew the law on that. Any document signed under duress, without witnesses, would not be lawfully binding, if she recanted.

  She reached behind her with one hand, groping for the long aluminum handle of the pool skimmer which was suspended horizontally, waist high in brackets along the fence. The skimmer would be unwieldy, a flimsy weapon but it would be something.

  She was relieved that Darryl had slowed his stalk, probably thinking he had her trapped.

  He moved quickly then, startling her, steppi
ng squarely in front of her, presenting the paper and tweaking the lid off his ink pen which he attempted to hand to her.

  “Sign.”

  She declined to take the pen, instead she glanced at the document as if she were vitally interested, then decided maybe she was. “What is this?”

  He put the pen in his hand which was already holding the paper, then regarded her for a long moment, his eyes glowing with intensity of what looked like hatred. His right hand shot straight up. His knuckles caught the left side of her face.

  Her head ricocheted against the fence and she gave a bloodcurdling shriek. She had never been struck in the face before. The blow stunned her. Her knees buckled and she slid down the fence to sit, her legs sprawled.

  “Oh, no.” Darryl’s voice oozed. “The princess has fallen and no one’s coming to pick her up. No one’s around who gives a shit. Poor little Susu. Truth is, no one gives a rat’s ass about you, Savanna, even the people you pay trying to buy their concern. Why should anyone else care about your comfort or welfare, when you spend every waking minute indulging yourself. You’re finally about to get the ass whippin’ you, pardon the pun, so richly deserve.” A diabolical, mirthless laugh rattled from his throat.

  She sat studying the ground, moving her jaw carefully, trying to determine if the bits in her mouth were pieces of her teeth or something else.

  She used her tongue to work two tiny chips to the front of her mouth and removed pieces of porcelain filling a bit at a time with her fingers. Her jaw felt like it was permanently jacked to one side.

  She wanted to sound calm, even as tears stung her eyes. Her face hurt and her throat ached. “Why do you think I deserve to be mistreated?” She was glad her voice sounded normal.

  Darrell’s face twisted with disbelief and he nodded several times. “Mainly because whether you admit it or not, you want it.” His words were venomous. “All women want to be overpowered by their man. It goes back to the Neanderthals.” His eyes glittered with a sinister glow and he took two steps closer.

  “I’m going to demonstrate my male superiority, my dominance over you. And I’m going to keep demonstrating it, Savanna, tonight, right here, until you crawl on your knees over this cement and kiss my feet; until you convince me you love me, and beg until I’m willing to have you.

  “When I am satisfied that you want me, then you and I will take a little trip across the state line to one of those chapels in Arkansas and tie the knot, in front of witnesses.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  He threw his head back and barked a harsh laugh at the sky before he settled the angry stare back on her. “Damn straight, I’m serious, Little Susu. Oh, things between us rocked along just fine as long as I played at pursuing you, and you could be all coy, pretending not to be interested. We could have chased on that way quite a while, if you hadn’t stuck your damned nose into things better left to men.

  “You knew from the beginning that it was me tapping the till. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t. Besides that, you knew I had a spousal right to that money. You are the one who ruined our happy little setup, pretending you didn’t know. Hiring that Eth guy to expose me.”

  She stared at him. “You mean I’m responsible for messing up your scheme because I wanted to identify the thief stealing from my business?”

  He sneered. “Pretending you didn’t know isn’t going to work. Talking that way’s only going to add to your hurt, sweetheart. Believe me, I’m going to enjoy beatin’ that better-than-you attitude out of you. I hope you stay stubborn a while. I hope you resist for a long, long time.

  “Don’t you understand, you stupid bitch? Marrying you is the ultimate punishment for a guy like me. I hate giving up my freedom. I enjoy chasing rich women, exposing you for the fools you are.”

  Darryl’s face twisted and he ground his teeth as he bent and fisted her shirt collar in one hand. Still sitting, leaning against the fence, Savanna snatched the open ink pen from his other hand and jabbed as she wobbled to get her feet beneath her, striking at his face, his eyes, anything to drive him back. Releasing her, he jumped back and forth, laughing, dodging the jabs.

  Savanna planted her feet and levered herself against the fence to stand, but she was shaky. Physical combat was a new experience and she didn’t seem to be very good at it.

  This man, despite his laughter, did not sound jovial. His eyes glistened, his lips parted, baring his teeth, and his face became deadly serious behind the phony hilarity. She remembered the skimmer and ran her hand back along the fence, trying to think how to release it from the brackets.

  Leering, Darryl sidled toward her, balling his right hand into a tight fist.

  She clawed at the unyielding pole and had turned halfway in her effort to free it when a shadow loomed beside her. Terrified, she shot a look that direction and gasped.

  Peter stood less than twenty feet away, silhouetted in front of the deck lights. He wore denim cutoffs and canvas deck shoes. His muscles were pumped as if he’d been lifting and Savanna was again reminded of the automaton.

  “Who is it?” Darryl sounded surprised but not particularly alarmed as he eyed Peter. “Rivera. What are you doing here?”

  When he spoke, Peter’s voice was quiet. “I’m an avenging angel, here to administer the wrath of God upon you.”

  Darryl’s eyes narrowed as he turned them briefly to Savanna and sneered. “Another hireling? I’ll bet he works for Eth. Am I right?” The sneer deteriorated to a snarl. “Call him off.”

  “So you can pulverize me demonstrating your manly dominance? I don’t think so.”

  Darryl shrugged, stooped to fumble with his pant leg and straightened with a knife in his hand. “Then I’ll get rid of him for you, permanently.”

  Savanna gasped. “Peter, get out of here.”

  There was no movement except her own, as she pivoted to face her protégé. Instead of looking intimidated, as would seem natural for a man so poorly attired and faced with a weapon, his eyes came alive with what looked like pleasure.

  “Now, Hightower, I will be justified in killing you for, according to our laws, you have become an armed intruder in my home.”

  Darryl’s face furrowed with concern. “Is that guy Eth working for you personally, Savanna, or for the firm?” He didn’t shift his gaze to her for an answer and she didn’t offer one.

  Then Darryl’s expression changed and he brightened. “Of course. This is the wetback. The in-house gigolo. The one Carol talks about. I hadn’t made the connection. Stupid of me.” He focused his deranged stare fully on Peter.

  “You may delight the girls, spic, but I have no use for prostitutes, of either sex.”

  He tossed a quick glance at Savanna. “I thought he was only boffing Carol. He’s doing you, too, huh? What a man! I guess I should thank him for keeping you entertained in the sack, taking the pressure off me.” Insolently, he looked her up and down. “What’re you paying him?” He held up a hand to stop her response. “Never mind. Whatever it is, it isn’t enough.”

  A wicked grin cut Peter’s face and he arched one eyebrow.

  Darryl shrugged, allowing another quick, sweeping glance over Peter’s physique before he again addressed Savanna. “I’m not going to fight him for you.” Darryl’s voice was suddenly breathy, full of bluff and bluster. He backed two steps, bent, and without taking his eyes off Peter, sheathed the knife back in the scabbard and threw his hands to either side, showing he was disarmed.

  Peter remained poised. Darryl began backing toward the house.

  Peter’s tone was a prurient growl as he said, “Not that way. You are never again to enter her house. I will allow you to slither through the darkness and out through the alley.” He indicated the gate beyond the pool. “That way.”

  Darryl walked stiffly, carrying himself with as much arrogance as he could muster, toward the back gate.

  Peter’s long strides covered the ground behind him quickly.

  The two men disappeared into the darkness of the
walkway. Immediately, Savanna heard scuffling and a series of thuds and groans. She stood still, listening. She lost the quick smile, and touched her face tenderly, her eyes tearing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the commotion in the darkness behind the garage stopped, Savanna heard groans and shuffling that sounded like one person carrying or dragging another around to the front of the house. She heard muted voices, one commanding, the other compliant, a car door, an engine start, more undertones and, eventually, a vehicle driving away. When Peter returned, he was buttoning a sport shirt over the cutoffs. She looked at him, searching for any sign of injury. None was visible. She didn’t really expect there to be.

  “Did you hurt him?” she asked.

  “Not enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was still able to speak. The man is a bag of wind spewing useless words.” He regarded her closely. “He should not have hit you. He must never touch you again. I wanted to make that clear to him. Now he may understand.”

  “It was only a slap.”

  “No. I saw the marks on your face and on the back of his hand.” As Peter stepped closer, Savanna shrank from him. “Let me see the damage.”

  She turned, trying to avoid the direct light from the cabana but Peter grabbed her chin and drew her around gently, positioning her to allow him a full view.

  “It needs ice. Now. Sit down. Over there.” He directed her toward a chaise. Frowning, she inhaled deeply and did as he said, but twisted so she could lean back while her feet remained on the ground.

  He went into the cabana and returned, arranging ice in a bar towel, and eased onto the chaise beside her.

  Gently, he applied the improvised ice pack to her abraded skin. She flinched and pulled away. He tried again, steadying her head with his other hand.

  “What did he want here?” Peter didn’t look directly at her, but concentrated instead on the ice pack, which he brushed carefully against her flesh.