Free Cut and Run by Carla Neggers Page A

received from other well-to-do concert-goers who, of course, recognized the handsome senator. She could just imagine what they were thinking. He was single, divorced from a pretty, shy woman who, it was said, couldn’t tolerate the scrutiny of a public life, although what other kind of life she’d expected to have with a member of the Ryder family, Rachel didn’t know. She’d left him shortly after his election to the Senate. No children had been involved. Now Ryder escorted a variety of women, always elegant and always beautiful, to different functions, but Rachel supposed he was never seen with someone like herself, tiny and wrinkled and unwilling to smile just for the sake of smiling.
    â€œI’m glad you came,” the senator said as they took their aisle seats.
    â€œI am, too.”
    It was warm in the hall, and Rachel felt tired. Since tea with Catharina, she’d had her doubts about tonight. Perhaps it had been wrong to involve her old friend, wrong to put her in the position of having to avoid her own daughter’s questions. If she’d had a child, Rachel wondered, would she feel the same need to protect her from the past? She felt her spine stiffening. I would kill Hendrik de Geer before I let him touch a child of mine! Or of a friend? Although Juliana Fall wasn’t her daughter, Rachel felt a keen responsibility toward her, and she’d promised Catharina. You’re not like Hendrik, she told herself. If you make a promise, you must do everything in your power to keep it.
    Ryder gave her one of his heart-melting smiles. “I assume Mrs. Fall is here?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWonderful. I look forward to meeting her.”
    The lights dimmed, and Rachel could feel the senator’s strong shoulder brush up against her. Such an honest face, such a handsome man. She didn’t trust him.
    Â 
    Matthew slouched down in the soft seat, deciding he looked absorbed in the concert rather than bored, but not caring either way. Leave it to Feldie to get him a ticket down in the front with the tuxedos and designer gowns. He hadn’t worn a tuxedo in his life and didn’t intend to start now, but, still, Feldie would have no grounds to gripe. His outfit—deep berry wool jacket, dark gray wool polo shirt, and dark gray wool pants—had cost him more than the Gazette paid him in a week. She wouldn’t, however, be happy about his shoes. He had on his Gokeys.
    Sam Ryder was a half-dozen rows down to Stark’s right, but Matthew had taken no pleasure in having instantly spotted the senator among the sold-out crowd. He wasn’t with a Dutchman. He was with a small old woman Matthew didn’t recognize. He and Sam Ryder lived in the same town and once upon a time, at least for a while, had operated in the same social circles. But the junior senator from Florida had always preferred to think that Matthew Stark no longer existed. It was just as well.
    Says he’s going after a diamond, goddamn biggest uncut diamond in the fucking world. You believe it?
    Weasel talk. Still, this was U.S. Senator Samuel Ryder with whom they were dealing, and, yeah, Stark thought, I believe it.
    â€œAh, Weaze, my friend,” he thought as the Schubert symphony wore on, “what have you gotten me into this time?”
    Â 
    Juliana shoved her black leather satchel into an out-of-the-way corner of her dressing room and tried to put its contents out of her mind. A 1936 black crepe dress, rose-colored stockings and matching T-strap shoes, a multicolored sequined turban, a Portuguese shawl that used to hang over Grandmother Fall’s piano in her proper Philadelphia home, and a bag of bright makeup. All of it was pure J.J. Pepper. Juliana knew she was taking a chance, but there had been a cancellation and Len had offered her the Club Aquarian stage at eleven. She’d never played for the late-night crowd. How could she refuse? “Oh, Len, I can’t, I’m doing