Cut and Run by Carla Neggers Page B

Hendrik de Geer.” She narrowed her eyes, her anger and determination palpable. “I will find out.”
    Still fuming, she marched past him.
    Sam Ryder watched the tiny, shattered woman disappear into the crowd drifting toward the lobby, but he didn’t dare relax. She would leave and accept that her threats were empty, but, nevertheless, Ryder no longer felt that telling Bloch about her had been such an act of weakness. Surely, though, she was intelligent enough to recognize her defeat. There’d be no more calls, no more visits, no more letters. He was sorry not to meet Catharina Fall, in case she would have been able to provide more leverage for him against de Geer, but at least he’d gotten rid of Rachel Stein. One tactical objective achieved. Now on to the next. The Dutchman would be waiting outside in Ryder’s car.
    But Juliana Fall…
    Ryder admitted he didn’t want to involve her in his difficulties, but he didn’t see that he’d have to. She was a pianist. Beautiful, unforgettable. He would just have to leave her out of it and concentrate on making de Geer do his bidding.
    Yet, as he walked stiffly out into the aisle, he looked longingly back toward the stage. It seemed so empty. She was back there, somewhere, accepting congratulations, flowers.
    De Geer can wait, he thought. You’re a United States senator. Use your influence.
    He threw his coat over his arm and headed backstage.
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    Adrian Fall took his wife’s arm as she stumbled into the aisle. He was a tall, fair-skinned man with handsome, angular features, and she loved him dearly. He had come into her life just when she’d begun to believe she would never be able to love and trust anyone again, and he’d taken her away from Amsterdam, from her past, from her memories. He understood that these were things she couldn’t talk about. He never pressed her, just allowed her to be what she was. Together they’d spoiled and adored Juliana, building a new life, their own life. He was a quiet, dear, understanding man, but right now she wished he’d just stayed home tonight. He knew nothing of Rachel Stein, nothing of Hendrik de Geer. How could she explain to him?
    â€œCatharina,” he said, worried, “what is it? Are you all right?”
    She gulped for air, not seeing him. She was white, shaking all over. “Yes, fine, I just…” There wasn’t enough air! I’m going to faint. “A headache.”
    â€œYou’re hyperventilating. I think I’d better get you home.”
    Home, she thought vaguely, trying to stop gulping for air now that Adrian had told her what was wrong. There was too much oxygen in her bloodstream already. Ah, Adrian, always so steady, so right. Her mother used to say the best cure for hyperventilation was a bag over the head. Oh, Mamma! Her mother would be strong now. She wouldn’t simply go home. She wouldn’t be tempted to lock herself in her rooms high above Park Avenue and never come out.
    Catharina stretched herself and put a shaky hand to her mouth. My God, she thought, I’ve seen him too. Hendrik! She had sensed he would be here tonight. He had walked right past her, and she’d only caught a glimpse of him. It was enough. His face was seared in her memory.
    She touched Adrian’s hand, letting his warmth anchor her in the present. She had to warn Rachel that Hendrik was here. That much she had to do, no matter her shock and fear. “I’m supposed to meet a friend,” she told her husband softly.
    Adrian shook his head firmly, the stolid, practical banker. “You’re in no condition to meet anyone.”
    Catharina looked down the aisle toward the seats where Rachel had sat with her senator. Rachel was gone already, and Senator Ryder—
    â€œNo!”
    He was making his way backstage! Had Rachel misled her? Had she decided to involve Juliana after all? With a mad lunge, Catharina shot out into the