Читать книгу Every Move She Makes - Beverly Barton - Страница 12

Expecting a call from Heather, Ella answered the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

Silence. Complete quiet. Eerie nothingness. Ella’s hand tightened on the telephone receiver as she said, “Hello. Is anyone there?”

Breathing. Deep, heavy breathing. Sensual panting. Just like the two unknown calls she had received yesterday.

“If you have something to say to me, say it. Otherwise, do not call me again!” Ella slammed down the receiver. When she lifted her hand, she noticed the slight tremble. Stop this! She tightened her hands into fists and plopped them down atop her desk.

Phone calls cannot hurt you, she reminded herself. Whoever is on the other end of the line is harassing you, trying to upset you. The caller had not done anything to warrant the fear that grew steadily within her. Ever since she’d received the letter three days ago, she had argued with herself over Reed Conway’s involvement. Was he or was he not the guilty party behind the letter and the phone calls? He was, of course, the most obvious suspect, but that alone could not condemn him. But if not Reed, then who? She had read through her files, studying every case over which she had presided since she’d become a circuit court judge. Had a disgruntled felon felt unjustly convicted? Not one of the men or women whom she’d sentenced to prison had threatened her or made any comments about injustice or revenge.

A light tapping outside her office door brought her back from her thoughts. “Yes?” Ella’s heartbeat roared in her ears. Where was Kelly? Why wasn’t she running interference for her?

The door cracked open slightly and Roy Moses stuck his head in and smiled at her. “Morning, Miss Ella.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good morning, Roy.” Ella checked her watch and realized that it wasn’t quite eight. Kelly wouldn’t arrive until eight-thirty.

“I was sweeping up along the hall and saw something lying outside your door.” Roy lifted his meaty hand and held out a white envelope. “It’s got your name on it.”

Ella sucked in a deep breath as anxiety swept through her like a tidal wave. Don’t let it be another letter from him. “Please, bring it on in.” She stood and walked toward the door to meet Roy.

“You sure do look pretty this morning.” Roy held out the envelope.

“Thank you.” Ella forced a smile, then grasped the envelope. She noticed that her name was typewritten, as on the first letter. Her stomach did a nervous flip-flop.

“You have a good day.” Roy plodded toward the door.

“You, too,” Ella called after him. The moment he closed the door, she picked up the letter opener from her desk and sliced open the envelope. Willing herself to be calm, she eased the single page of unlined paper from its casing. As she spread open the folded missive, she prayed that it wasn’t what she thought it was.

Have you been thinking of me? I’ve been thinking about you. Bad thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Thoughts that would make you cream your pants.

Ella stopped reading. It was from him! Another sexually explicit, harassing letter. A crude, threatening love letter just like the one she’d received three days ago. Just like the two Reed had sent her from prison fifteen years ago.

This had to stop. She couldn’t continue ignoring the matter. Three heavy-breathing phone calls and two menacing letters. She’d thought she could handle the situation without involving anyone else, but she’d been wrong.

Ella picked up the telephone receiver, dialed the familiar number, and waited.

“Porter residence,” the housekeeper said.

“Bessie, this is Ella. Is my father there?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s in the library.”

“I’d like to speak to him, please.”

“Certainly.”

The moment she entered Callahan’s, Ella saw her father at the bar. She lifted her hand and waved. Smiling, he returned the gesture, then motioned for her to join him. Making her way through the crowd of waiting customers in the entrance foyer, she moved steadily toward the bar. The moment she approached him, Webb grabbed her and hugged her.

“I can’t think of anything nicer than your inviting me to lunch,” Webb said, then winked. “Unless it would be inviting me to your wedding.”

“Now, Daddy.”

“You know how much your mother likes Dan. She’s been after me to remind you that he’d make a great husband and father.” Webb ran his hands down her arms and then grasped her wrist. “Sit. Our table should be ready soon. What can I order for you?”

“Perrier with lemon.” She took the bar stool next to her father. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I hope Mother didn’t mind my taking you away from the house. I know how much she treasures your days at home with her.”

Webb’s smile faltered. “I realize your mother thinks I neglect her, but—”

“She understands how busy you are and how important your career is to you.”

“Your mother’s life hasn’t been easy. We’ve both done the best we could with the hand fate dealt us.” Webb lifted his bourbon to his lips and downed the last drops, then ordered another when he asked the bartender to bring Ella’s bottled water. “You mustn’t worry. I told Carolyn that you’d invited me to lunch and she was delighted. You do know that your mother adores you.”

Ella sighed. “Yes, of course, I know.” There were times when Carolyn’s actions proved without a doubt that she did indeed adore her only child. But sometimes Ella sensed just a little envy coming from her mother. She understood that Carolyn often felt left out of the numerous activities Ella enjoyed with Webb. Things like tennis and golf and swimming. And being so acutely aware of her mother’s discontent broke Ella’s heart and made her all the more determined to be a good and loving daughter. There was nothing she wanted more than for her mother to be able to walk again. It had been her fondest dream since childhood.

“So, to what do I owe this honor?” Webb asked. “I know that you often eat lunch in your office, so why take the time today to have lunch with your old man?”

The bartender set Ella’s Perrier in front of her and then placed Webb’s second glass of bourbon on the bar. Ella lifted her drink and took a sip.

“Before I tell you anything, I want you to promise me that you aren’t going to lose your temper and rush out of here half-cocked.”

Webb eyed her curiously. “Well, you’ve intrigued me, princess. I can’t imagine what you could say that would have that effect on me.”

Callahan’s hostess approached them. “Your table is ready, Senator Porter.”

Within minutes they were seated at the best table in the restaurant. Webb ordered for both of them, the way he’d done since Ella was a child. Even though she wanted to remind him that she was thirty now and not six, she didn’t protest. One of the things she loved about her father was the fact that he never changed. He was her rock, her support, her friend, and her hero. She had always worshiped the ground Webb Porter walked on.

“I promise not to lose my temper, so feel free to share this upsetting news with me. It isn’t something about Cybil, is it? If it is, I hope we can keep it from your mother. You know how she gets upset over her sister’s antics.”

“No, Daddy, it isn’t about Aunt Cybil.” Ella laid her purse on the table, opened it, and withdrew two white envelopes, both wrinkled from having been crushed in her hand. “I received one of these three days ago and the other this morning. And I’ve had three phone calls when the person on the other end didn’t do anything except breathe heavy.” She handed the letters to her father.

Webb removed the first letter from the envelope and read it slowly and thoroughly. His face darkened with rage, but he didn’t say a word. Then he read the second letter. His breathing quickened.

“If you received one of these letters three days ago, why didn’t you tell me then?” Webb slipped the letters inside his coat pocket.

“I thought…well, I hoped that it would just be the one letter.”

“You realize who sent these, don’t you?” He tapped his jacket, where the letters rested inside his pocket. “But if he thinks he can get away with harassing my daughter, he’d better think again.” Webb’s voice grew louder with each word he spoke. “I’ll put his ass back in prison where he belongs.”

“Daddy, you can’t be one hundred percent sure it’s—”

“Of course it’s Reed Conway. Who else could it be?”

Patrons seated nearby turned their heads to stare at Webb. Ella reached across the table and laid her hand over her father’s big fist. “Calm down. People are staring.”

Webb glanced around at the curious faces. Placing a fake politician’s smile on his face, he nodded at several acquaintances, then opened his tight fist and clutched Ella’s hand.

“If that man ever comes near you, I’ll kill him!” Webb spoke in a low but deadly serious voice.

“I was afraid you would react this way. That’s why I hesitated to tell you.”

With a large serving tray hoisted on one hand, their waitress paused by the side of the table. Webb released Ella’s hand and offered the waitress a smile.

“Please let me know if you need anything else, Senator Porter.”

“I’ll surely do that.”

The minute the waitress served the food and went on to take the order at another table, Webb lifted his steak knife and cut into the thick T-bone. Blood oozed from the rare meat.

“You leave everything to me,” he said. “After lunch, I’m going straight to Frank Nelson’s office. Reed Conway won’t be bothering you again.”

Ella eyed her filet mignon. “You have no proof that Reed sent those letters. Without proof, what can Frank do?”

“First of all, he can have these letters tested for fingerprints other than yours and mine. And in the meantime, he can put the fear of God into that boy. Let him know that we won’t tolerate such behavior from him.”

“Daddy, Reed’s fingerprints will be on the first letter,” Ella said reluctantly. Although she didn’t want to explain how Reed’s fingerprints came to be on the letter, she had no choice but to tell her father the truth. She wasn’t going to allow her silence to condemn a possibly innocent man.

“How do you know his fingerprints are on the first letter?” Webb asked. He glared at her, his dark eyes narrowing.

“I confronted Reed with the letter the day I received it.”

“You what?”

“Lower your voice. People are staring again.”

“To hell with people staring!” Webb dropped his knife and fork onto his plate. The metal clanged against the china. “Are you telling me that you—”

“He swore to me that he didn’t do it—that he didn’t write the letter. And strange as it may sound to you, I think I believe him.”

“Little girl, you stay away from the likes of Reed Conway. Do you hear me? I thought you had better sense than to go anywhere near him. Don’t you know that he’d like nothing better than to hurt you in order to get to me?”

“Yes, of course, I’m aware of your past history with him and the fact that he swore revenge against you and—”

“Promise me that you’ll never go anywhere near him again.”

“But Daddy—”

“Dammit, promise me.”

“I—I promise.”

By now Ella would have received the second letter. No doubt that was the reason she had been seen having lunch with her father at Callahan’s. She had run to her daddy. Ella was so predictable. Using her was almost too easy. Webb’s next stop would be at Frank Nelson’s office.

Laughter filled the room. Self-satisfied laughter. Making Webb miserable was such a pleasure. It was past time that the senator suffered for his sins. And nothing made Webb Porter suffer more than to think his precious daughter was in danger.

Ella wasn’t in any real danger. Not now. Not yet. One did what one had to do to survive, to protect one’s self. And to get a little sweet revenge.

A short walk across the room to the computer on the desk. A few clicks and the screen opened to the word processing program. One more message, similar to the others, and then it would be time to up the ante, raise the stakes, unnerve the senator’s daughter to a greater degree.

“I want you to go over to where he’s working at his cousin’s garage and warn him to stay away from my family—my daughter in particular.”

Frank Nelson watched Webb Porter, his father’s old friend, as he paced the floor. The man was more agitated than he’d ever seen him. There was a sense of desperation in Webb that Frank didn’t think he’d ever seen. But when it came to Ella, Webb was a typical father. Only he was a father who possessed a great deal of power and influence.

“I can give him an unofficial warning, but that’s all I can do unless we can come up with some proof that he’s the one harassing Ella,” Frank explained.

“Of course he’s the one.”

“I agree. He probably is, but without proof—”

“That boy was trouble fifteen years ago and he’s even more trouble now.” Webb forked his fingers through his silver hair. “His mother didn’t deserve the problems he created for her.”

“Yes, sir, I agree. Judy Conway is a good woman. God knows what she’s gone through over the years.”

Webb cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Judy’s almost a member of the family, you know. She’s been with Jeff Henry and Cybil for ages.”

Frank tapped the envelopes lying on his desk. “Webb, you leave these letters with me and I’ll drive over to Conway’s later on today and have a talk with Reed.”

“Thanks, Frank. I knew I could count on you.”

Judy said her good-byes to Carolyn Porter and slipped away quietly while Viola lifted the crippled woman into her arms and carried her back to her bed. Judy closed the door behind her. She both pitied and envied Carolyn, as she was sure almost everyone in town did. The poor thing had been an invalid for over thirty years. Judy made a point of not coming to the Porter house unless she had no other choice. There was too much bad blood between their families. But occasionally, like today, Jeff Henry would insist that Judy drop by with some of her homemade bread, since he knew Carolyn loved it so. She had intended to simply leave the bread in the kitchen with Bessie, but the housekeeper had been out shopping and Viola had answered the doorbell’s ring. Carolyn had inquired who their visitor was and then insisted that Judy come up for a visit.

“I get out rarely,” Carolyn had said. “Especially not in this hot weather. It’s such a delight to have a visitor. Come, sit and chat with me awhile.”

The woman was Webb Porter’s wife, and that very fact made Judy uncomfortable in her presence. But she had stayed twenty minutes. As usual, Carolyn was charming. A true Southern lady. But as usual, Judy felt an underlying tension in Webb’s wife.

The moment Judy started down the back staircase, she met Webb. Her heart leaped to her throat. She had prayed she wouldn’t run into him. What would she say? How should she act?

“Judy?”

“Hello, Webb.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Jeff Henry sent me over with some homemade bread for Carolyn. He’s aware that it’s a favorite of hers.”

Webb stopped his ascent. Judy continued down the stairs. When she passed him, he reached out for her, but dropped his hand to his side before actually touching her.

“I’d like to talk to you,” he said.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Please, give me a few minutes of your time.”

She forced herself to look him squarely in the eye, but regretted the action when he stared at her pleadingly. Don’t let him get to you, she cautioned herself. Webb Porter knows how to charm a lady. But this man is your son’s enemy and don’t you forget it.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” she asked.

“Would you come downstairs with me? We can talk in my study.”

“We can talk in the kitchen, on my way out,” she told him.

“If that’s what you prefer.”

“It is.”

He followed her down the back stairs and into the kitchen. She paused by the door. “What is it?”

“Ella has received three disturbing phone calls and two obscene, threatening letters since Reed was paroled.”

Judy gasped. “Are you saying that you think Reed made those phone calls and sent those letters?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

“You’re wrong. Dead wrong. Just like you were wrong about him slitting Junior’s throat fifteen years ago.”

“You’re Reed’s mother. I’d expect you to defend him.”

“And you’re the man who prosecuted him for murder. I’d expect you to suspect him. But I’m telling you that all Reed wants is a second chance. He’s not going to do anything to mess up his parole.”

“I hope you’re right. But I think you should caution Reed to stay away from Ella.”

“Stay away from…Are you saying that Reed’s been bothering Ella?”

“They made contact and it upset Ella.”

“What do you mean they made contact?”

“After she received the first letter, Ella confronted Reed.”

“Ah, I see.” Judy tilted her chin and glared at Webb. “If you’re so worried about Reed contaminating Ella, then perhaps you should tell your daughter to stay away from my son.”

Judy left hurriedly while Webb Porter stood there, mouth agape. She closed the door quietly behind her and ran from the back porch and down the brick sidewalk. Her head throbbed. Her heart raced. Damn Webb Porter. Damn him to hell and back.

Webb didn’t move for several minutes after Judy Conway’s hasty departure. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but he should have known that it would be useless to ask her to warn Reed to stay away from Ella. Judy had been Reed’s staunchest defender during his trial, and whatever goodwill there had been between Webb and her before then had come to an end when Reed had been convicted of Junior’s murder.

He would never forget the night she came to him, pleading for him to have the police search elsewhere for her dead husband’s killer.

“Someone else killed Junior,” she had said. “I swear to you that Reed didn’t slit his throat. He beat him to within an inch of his life, yes, but he didn’t come back later while Junior was unconscious and murder him.”

Webb had wanted to help her. More than she would ever know. But how could he, when all the evidence pointed clearly to Reed? Webb had despised Junior Blalock almost as much as Reed had. He’d never understood what Judy had seen in that white trash drunkard. He realized how hard it had been for her trying to raise two children on her own, but marrying Junior had only added to her troubles, not relieved them. Of course, Junior had been a good-looking devil and had possessed a certain amount of crude charm. But he’d been a sleaze—a wife beater and a child molester. Webb cringed at the thought of that slimy bastard touching sweet little Regina. If back then Webb had ever suspected that Junior had tried to rape Regina, he wasn’t sure what he would have done to the man. You would have killed him, a nagging inner voice said.

“Yes, I would have killed him,” Webb said aloud.

The intercom buzzer sounded. “Webb? If you’re there, dear, would you please come upstairs. I haven’t seen you since breakfast this morning.”

Webb froze to the spot. There had been a time, long ago, when he had loved the sound of Carolyn’s voice: soft, sultry, and honey-coated Southern. But that had been a lifetime ago. Now, the sound irritated the hell out of him. There were times when he couldn’t bear even being in the same room with her. She was clinging and whiny and needy, so very needy. He had loved her once, but that, too, had been a lifetime ago. He pitied her. He had stayed married to her out of duty and obligation. Carolyn knew why he stayed, but she didn’t seem to mind why he remained her husband, just as long as she could be, now and forever, Mrs. Webb Porter. She claimed to love him, and in her own way, perhaps she did.

They both loved Ella, the one good thing in their lives. But how many times had the truth about Ella’s bloodlines haunted him? How often had he wondered exactly how Carolyn would feel about Ella if she knew the truth about their adopted child? If his wife knew about Ella’s true parentage, would she hate their daughter? But there was no reason for Carolyn to ever know the truth. And no reason for Ella ever to learn about her biological mother and father. Her adoption had been private—handled by the Porters’ family lawyer, Milton Leamon, Webb’s cousin. And thankfully, Ella had never asked any questions about her natural parents.

“Webb? Webb?” Carolyn called again and again.

With slumped shoulders, he left the kitchen and headed up the back stairs. When he reached Carolyn’s closed door, he hesitated, then knocked. Viola opened the door. The woman glared at him. She had the look of an army sergeant. Hard as nails, tough through and through. Viola could be unpleasant and aggravating, but she was devoted to Carolyn. He didn’t know what they would have done without the woman these past thirty-one years.

“Please come in, Mr. Porter.” Viola moved out of his way. “Miss Carolyn is quite eager to see you.”

Viola walked past him, leaving him alone with his wife. Carolyn sat propped up in the bed, pillows surrounding her. She was still a lovely woman. He tried his best to be devoted and caring. Occasionally he even shared her bed. But Carolyn’s paralysis kept her from fully enjoying sex, so their intimate moments together lacked any real satisfaction for either of them. If he loved her, it would have been different. But he didn’t love her. He hadn’t loved his wife in over thirty years. If he ever confessed that to anyone, they would assume it was because of her condition. But they would be wrong.

“Darling, there you are. What kept you so long? Viola heard you speaking to Judy Conway on the stairs. Has Judy gone?”

“Yes, she’s gone.”

“Such a sweet woman.”

“Yes.”

Carolyn patted the bed. “Come sit with me.”

Webb crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed. “Have you had a good day?”

“As good as most. What about you? Did you enjoy your lunch with Ella?”

How did he answer that question truthfully without divulging the truth about the harassing letters Ella had received? Telling Carolyn would only upset her. “I always enjoy time with our daughter.”

“We have every reason to be proud of her, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do. We’ve done a fine job with her. You’ve been a good mother.”

“Thank you, Webb. It’s nice to know that I’m not a failure at everything.”

“Carolyn, please…”

“Yes, of course, no need to ruin a perfectly pleasant visit with an unpleasant subject.”

“Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Webb asked.

“Yes, certainly…if you’re going to be home. You haven’t made other plans, have you?”

“No.”

“Webb?”

“Hmm?”

“What were you and Judy talking about?”

Webb noted the hint of jealousy in Carolyn’s voice. She had been insanely jealous when they’d first married—a trait that had driven him crazy. Back then, she’d had no reason to be jealous. He’d been a faithful husband. She was still a jealous wife, but she controlled the emotion and hid her feelings quite well. He knew she suspected him of infidelity, but it was a taboo subject between them.

“I asked her about Reed,” Webb said.

“Ah, yes, of course. What else would the two of you have to discuss except her son? I assume he still hates you as much as he did when he first went to prison.”

“Yes, I assume he does.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t make good on the threats he made back then.” Carolyn reached for Webb’s hand. Reluctantly, he accepted her gentle touch. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. Or to Ella. You and our daughter are my life. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Carolyn, I know.” He leaned over and kissed her soft cheek. “You mustn’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure that Reed Conway isn’t a threat to me or to Ella.”

“What will you do if he…?”

Webb laid his index finger over her parted lips. “Hush now. Don’t fret. Just know that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Reed from disrupting our lives.”