Now You See Her Linda Howard(27)

His jaw bulged with rage, and he flushed a dark red. "You bitch." The words were low, as if he couldn't manage anything more.



"I don't suppose I have to tell you I have the originals, in a very safe place."

"You're incriminated by these tapes, too." He was breathing hard.

"Yes, but I don't have a career to lose. Of course, your constituents are pretty liberal, they might say live and let live. I don't think the other senators would agree, though, especially those you've fucked over the years. They would enjoy having evidence of their esteemed colleague's illegal behavior." Her tone was rich with irony.

Murderous hatred was in his eyes. Candra controlled a shiver. It was a risk, crossing Carson like this, and she had walked in here knowing it. That was why she had made certain her weapon against him was so powerful he couldn't ignore it.

"This won't be an ongoing thing," she said impatiently "Just this once. You can afford the money, and I need it."

"Sure," he said sarcastically. "I'm supposed to take your word for it."

"I'll send you the originals as soon as I have the money." She meant it. What she wouldn't send him was the videotape she hadn't mentioned. She would use that only if he tried to get revenge.

Of course, he had no way of being positive anything she gave him was the original, no way of ever being sure there were no more copies in existence. Blackmail was forever.

She placed a small piece of paper on his desk. "This is my bank and account number. Wire the money into it. I opened the account just for this, and I'll close it after I get the money. I trust I won't be audited by the IRS either, so you really should hope the random audits miss me."

He didn't pick up the paper. Candra got to her feet and looped her purse strap on her shoulder. "I had the cab wait. Don't bother seeing me out." When she got to the door, she unlocked it, then paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "By the way… make it a million."

The front door had barely closed behind Candra when Margo entered Carson's office. Her face was white and rigid. "You fool," she said scathingly. "You stupid, goddamn fool, always thinking with your dick instead of your head."

"Shut up," he snarled, erupting from his chair. "What were you doing, listening at the door?"

She walked over and punched a button on the intercom console. "I opened the intercom when I found out she was coming here. You think you're so damn smart, but you never check to see if the intercom is open."

He grabbed her by the arm, his powerful fingers biting into her flesh. "Don't take that tone with me,"

he warned.

"Or you'll what? Divorce me? I don't think so." She jerked her arm free and picked up the envelope Candra had left. Carson made a move for it, but Margo stepped away and opened it, removing the pictures.



She looked at them, and ugly red color splotched her cheeks. She flipped through the photographs, and her mouth contorted. She whirled, her hand lashing out with all the strength in her arm behind it, catching him full across the face. His head jerked around under the impact.

Slowly he looked at her. His face was white except for the imprint of her hand. His eyes burned like coals.

Margo was shaking. "You're worse than a fool; you're the most imbecilic egomaniac I've ever known, and it takes some doing to top my father. I haven't put up with you all these years to let you fuck things up now, with everything in place for the next election. You have to do something."

"I'll pay the goddamn money. I don't have any choice."

"What if she wants more?"

"I'll handle it. Just shut the fuck up. I'm not in any mood for your shit."

"Tough." She threw the pictures at him. They hit him in the face and fluttered to the floor, eight-by-ten glossies. "I hope you've had an AIDS test."

"Don't be stupid. How long do you think that would stay confidential?"

She almost screamed with rage. "You'd risk my life rather than risk having someone find out you'd taken an AIDS test," she said, her voice trembling. "You fret about a stupid handkerchief. How in hell can you be careful about a handkerchief but let yourself be photographed having sex with a man?

Those are great pictures, by the way. The only thing more ridiculous than your expression while you screw him is the look on your face while he's screwing you! Face red, mouth open—"

He backhanded her, knocking her against the desk. The contact was so satisfying he wanted to hit her again. "Shut up," he said between clenched teeth. "We had snorted some coke, or it never would have happened!"

Slowly Margo straightened, hand to her aching cheek. Her hip throbbed where she had hit the desk.

Hatred and disgust congealed in her stomach. "I don't suppose it ever occurred to you not to take illegal drugs. There's a picture of that, too. Won't that look lovely on the evening news?"

"She won't release the pictures. If she does, she won't have any means of getting more money from me." He was confident of that, at least. You never went wrong betting that someone would protect their own interests.

"You don't know what she'll do," Margo said sharply. "Your track record so far isn't anything to brag about. You have to take care of this, and you have to do it now. Offer her two million for the originals."