Veil Of Fear

Jonathan laughed and clapped the senator on the shoulder. “As my candid bride would say—vote yourself another pay raise and buy your wife a bigger one!”

With that rejoinder, the foursome parted company. At Jonathan’s insistence, Mary accompanied him in the limousine until it dropped him off at his Alexandria, Virginia office. Then the chauffeur reversed his route, taking the George Washington Bridge back across the Potomac River, and threaded his way along the Washington streets. It was over an hour later before he finally dropped Mary off at the Georgetown Regent Hotel.

As she crossed the lobby, pausing only to check for mail at the desk, she paid scant attention to the luxurious surroundings. Her mind was on the details involved in planning a society wedding. She wondered what Jonathan would say if she told him she’d rather exchange vows in her mother’s living room in northern Michigan than go through all the hoopla Camille had recited at lunch.

Reaching her apartment door, Mary fumbled in her bag for her key, unlocked the door and stepped across the threshold. Suddenly, she stopped.

There it was again. That creepy sensation of something being wrong. Out of place.

No, it couldn’t be. Not here in her home.

Forcing herself to take several calming breaths, she turned to lock the door behind her, when her foot crunched on something on the carpet. Moving her foot, she saw that she’d stepped on an envelope that apparently had been slipped under the door.

Relief flooded through her.

Something had been out of place. Her subconscious had simply picked up on the envelope lying on the floor.

It looked like an invitation. Must have been hand-delivered, she mused. Plucking the envelope off the rug, Mary engaged the dead bolt and kicked off her shoes. She hated wearing high heels every day, but Camille insisted that a woman of “Mary’s station” should always wear heels in public. Wriggling her toes in the thick pile carpet, Mary crossed into the living room and nestled on the shell pink damask sofa. She curled her feet beneath her and opened the envelope.

For a moment, she stared with perplexity at the single sheet of paper. After reading the brief message for the third time, she watched the paper slip from her numb fingers. Acting purely on instinct, Mary picked up the telephone and punched in Jonathan’s office number.

“Oh, Ms. Wilder, it’s you. Again.” Robert Newland sighed, as if her telephoning twice in one day was a tremendous trial for him.

Swallowing a biting retort, she said quietly, “May I speak with Jonathan? It’s quite important.”

“Of course. I’m certain Mr. Regent won’t mind another interruption.”

“Thank you.”

When Robert finally transferred her call, Jonathan’s voice sounded harsh, impatient. “What is it, Mary? I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

Briefly, her voice as cold and hard as the chunk of ice forming inside her, Mary told him about finding the note inside her apartment door.

“So? I’m afraid I’ve missed the point, dear. What did the note say?”

Mary didn’t have to retrieve the note to recite the ugly words cut from magazine articles and pasted onto the sheet of white bond paper. They were already branded into her soul.

“Oh, Jonathan, it’s so awful. It said, ‘Life isn’t like a fairy tale where Cinderella lives happily ever after with Prince Charming. If you marry Jonathan Regent, you will not live happily...or ever after.’”

Jonathan sighed. “Damn that Mark Lester. I told you he was behind all this. Mary, darling, the idiot is only trying to take his petty revenge because you dumped him. He obviously wants to frighten you into breaking our engagement. Don’t give him the satisfaction of responding to his childish game.”

Mark? She could imagine Mark storming over to her apartment and shouting at her through the door, but sending anonymous threatening letters? Mary desperately wanted to believe it was Mark’s wounded pride causing him to act so horribly and not some madman pursuing her. “Do you think that’s all it is? Mark, acting out?”

“Of course. Now, just throw the silly thing in the trash and forget all about it. And, by the way, sweet, I’m going to have to cancel dinner tonight.”

“Oh, Jonathan, I’d looked forward to it.”

“Me, too, but it can’t be helped. Have to take care of business, you know. But if you’re so upset that you really feel I should cancel this meeting, then, of course...”

Mary’s nerves were so jittery that she hated the idea of spending the evening alone. Still, Jonathan had so much responsibility with his corporation that she felt guilty even considering asking him to cancel his business appointment. After taking a few seconds to rationally evaluate the situation, Mary responded, “Don’t worry, Jonathan, I’ll be fine. You go ahead with your meeting. Maybe I’ll call a friend from the bookstore. I may go to a movie, or something.”

“If you think that’s wise,” he responded tartly. On several occasions, Jonathan had hinted that Mary should drop her friends from Arlington. He felt she should cultivate new friends in his social circle. Jonathan didn’t understand that his social level was as unfamiliar to Mary as a foreign culture.

Interrupting her thoughts, Jonathan said, “What I think you should do, honey, is to take a long nap. Then soak in a bubble bath and order up room service. Leave Mark Lester to me.”

Mary bit her lip. She didn’t want Jonathan to get into a fight with Mark, but she also wanted to defuse this disturbing situation before it got worse. Reluctantly, she agreed.

“Good. Now, don’t you worry your pretty little head another minute—”

“Jonathan! You make me sound like a Barbie doll.”

There was a long pause before he continued, “I see you’re still distraught. I can understand that. But really, dear, you have to stop finding offense in every minor comment. Now, you take a nice nap and I’ll speak with you later.”

Mary felt less than satisfied with the outcome of their discussion but she was too emotionally drained to continue. After double-checking the lock on the apartment door, she went into her bedroom and pulled the drapes shut.

That king-size bed did look awfully inviting.

Ten minutes later, Mary was fast asleep.

* * *

“AH, ARMSTRONG! Glad you’re able to give us a hand on this.” Robert Newland ushered the newcomer into the conference room. Tossing a thick manila file folder on the polished teak conference table, Jonathan’s personal assistant raised a hand, offering Armstrong a seat.

The tall, slender man lowered himself into one of the swivel chairs and faced Newland. “What’s up? Another possible industrial spy you want us to run a check on?”

Newland seated himself across from Armstrong and steepled his fingers. “No, nothing like that.” He broke off and stared into space for a long moment, as if to gather his thoughts. “This is something that’s more of a...a personal nature.”

Armstrong leaned forward. “You know I can keep a confidence. Why don’t you just spit it out?”

Newland reached for the file folder he’d thrown on the conference table and pulled a sheaf of papers from it. The first item he passed to Armstrong was a color photograph of Jonathan Regent and his fiancée—taken from the cover of Newsweek magazine. “Did you happen to see this?”

Trace Armstrong glanced at the photo. “I haven’t been in Antarctica for the past two weeks. Of course I knew Regent was engaged. Kind of cute, isn’t she?”

Newland raised an eyebrow. “Cute like a fox. Crafty, shrewd and devious are words that come quickly to mind.”

“I gather you don’t care for the woman. Why not?”

Newland raised a hand. “Oh, it’s nothing personal, understand. It’s just that I can recognize a brass-plated gold digger when I see one. And believe you me, this Mary Wilder is a gold digger with two shovels!”

Trace retrieved the magazine photo and took a second look at the woman. Interesting. From the soft, guileless expression the photographer had captured, he would never have suspected the sweet-faced Mary Wilder of being after Regent’s money. “And you want me to dig around in her background, come up with a little dirt for your boss?”

Newland hesitated, then said, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. But let’s hold off. Things may work out on their own.”

“How’s that?”

“It seems our sweet Mary is being followed. Stalked. Mr. Regent wants me to hire a full-time bodyguard for her. Of course, I thought of you.”

Trace shrugged. “No problem. I can put one of my people on it right away. Or did you want round-the-clock protection?”