His mind kept repeating numbly, Lebasse is dead. I have the dossier. Lebasse is dead. I have the dossier and Lebasse is dead. . . .
And then the thought that made him stop cold in his tracks, the rainwater coursing down his face and over his small compressed mouth with its neat gray moustache.
Holy Mary, Mother of God. What now?
Cheryl was lying full-length on the couch wearing a loose halter-neck dress, her brown arms and shoulders bare. They had eaten a pleasant dinner together. Chase felt warm and relaxed, and now she had to spoil it by badgering him.
'It was you, remember, who told me about the dioxin poisoning,' Cheryl said, waving her wine glass at him. 'You set the hare running and yet you don't want to do anything about it--' The wine spilled and she tossed back what was left in one gulp.
Chase put his coffee cup down and picked up his brandy glass. 'What am I supposed to do about it? I agree that we know--or suspect --that JEG Chemicals is up to something. And you're right, a story like that is just what I'm looking for. After seven weeks all I've got is a hriefcaseful of background material. Worthy but dull. You don't have to convince me.' He swirled the brandy and drank.
'So let's do it,' Cheryl said, filling her glass.
'You keep telling me you're a science writer, not a journalist,' Cheryl said, pointing an accusing finger.
'I am,' Chase said with a sigh. 'Which still won't get me into the JEG plant. They probably won't let
'They might.'
'Who, for instance?'
'There are ways.'
'What ways? You keep saying that. Don't be so damned infuriat-ing.
Cheryl lay back and gazed at the ceiling, a small smile on her lips. She was enjoying herself. Not just the teasing, but the company, too. Her social life had been nil since Frank had gone, if you discounted Gordon's pestering.
'Suppose you were an accredited member of the staff of the Scripps Marine Life Research Group.'
'Well?' said Chase warily.
'You could fix an appointment. Pay a call and say you were interested in purchasing supplies. And then you'd have the chance of looking around the place.' She raised her head to see his reaction and his expression made her stop short. 'What is it?'
'Banting,' Chase said.
'What?'
He'd forgotten Ivor Banting's connection with the JEG Corporation until just this minute. And Banting had been most accommodating to the U.S. military in getting the Russian scientist transferred to McMurdo Station. He told Cheryl about it and she said, 'Astakhov, Boris's old colleague?''
Chase nodded. It seemed to him as though invisible strands were slowly tightening, being drawn together to form a noose of conspiracy.
Cheryl was right. The JEG plant at Bakersfield was a loose end, a stray thread that might unravel the tangle and lead to the truth.
He sipped his brandy and said, 'I'll cable my editor in the morning. If I'm going to do this I'll need a few more days. How long will it take to set up?'
'Are you sure you want to go through with this?'
'A minute ago you thought it was a great idea.'
'It could be risky, that's all.' Cheryl lay on the couch looking at him, the lamplight gilding her hair and forming pools of shadow above her collarbones. It was as if the air were filled with an emotional charge. They both felt it humming in the silence.
Chase fiddled with his empty glass, wondering if this would complicate or simplify things. The line of demarcation between their professional and personal relationship had been, until now, clearly marked and tacitly observed.
'What do you think about Lebasse?' he said in a clumsy attempt to fill the silence.
'There were rumors that he had cancer. It could have been suicide.'
'Do you think so?' Chase was skeptical. 'Why choose that way when there are a dozen other ways, all less painful? The whole thing stinks to me.'
'What do you want me to do?'
Chase cleared his throat and blinked at her. 'What about?'
'Do you want me to fix an appointment for you? Bakersfield is about six hours drive from here. I could try for the day after tomorrow, which wouldn't delay you too much, and in the meantime you could stay here.' She was watching him with a feline slyness that was disconcerting. Then her head fell back on the cushion, her large breasts jouncing and trembling inside the loose halter-neck. He realized that she was convulsed with silent laughter.
'What's the joke?' he said mildly. He was stirred and trying hard not to show it.
'We're the joke, Gavin. You and me.'
'Are we?'
'Sure. You don't want me to think you're the kind of man who'd take advantage of a dinner invitation to make a pass and I'm being so goddamn careful not to let you know that I know you're not the kind of man to take advantage of a dinner invitation.'
'If I could follow that I might agree with you,' Chase said, getting up. He went over to the couch and took the glass from her hand. Cheryl raised her head, her impish expression suddenly vanishing.
She looked almost startled but didn't move as he reached over either side of her neck to undo the halter strap. The front of the dress fell away and he saw that the tan extended evenly all the way to her navel. Her breasts rose and subsided voluminously in the lamplight. He eased the shiny dress over her hips and pulled it free and slipped off her briefs so that she lay naked, arms by her side, her lower lip dry and quivering slightly. He could see her heart beating.
He deliberately didn't kiss her, which in a curious way heightened the excitement. Cheryl was breathing heavily, her eyes half-closed as his hands moved with gentle insistence over her body. She arched her back and said huskily, 'Christ, I want you so much,' and when he leaned forward to kiss her she responded fiercely, pulling him onto her, wanting to feel his weight crushing her.
They made love and when the moment came she moaned and writhed beneath him, her breasts pressed spongily against the dark hairs of his chest, her head twisting from side to side.
'We must have been ciazy to have waited so long,' Cheryl said as they lay entwined in a warm contented huddle.
Chase kissed her smooth brown shoulder. 'I think I was intimidated,' he said, no longer caring whether this complicated or simplified things. What the hell did it matter? It felt right and he felt good; no need to excuse or explain.
'You thought I was intimidating?' Cheryl said, looking at him quizzically from under fair brows. 'Seriously?'
'Absolutely,' Chase said, straight-faced.
'Bastard,' Cheryl murmured and snuggled closer. She felt happy. The months of loneliness in the silent empty house were swept away. She thought of Gordon Mudie and a shudder passed through her. Strange how two men could excite such totally different reactions within her.
'What's the matter?' Chase asked.
'Nothing. Not a thing.' She stuck her tongue in his ear. 'I was just thinking how glad I am that you're here. You in particular, I mean.' Her tongue flicked the lobe of his ear.
'Keep doing that and you'll get more than you bargained for.'
'Is that a firm promise?'
Chase let his hand slip down to cup her breast, which weighed heavily in his palm, the nipple stiffening
