“I’m working on the money I owe you,” he told the man. “I’m staying on Opal Cay. One way or the other, I’ll have it in a few weeks, a month at the outside.”
“Do you think your brother will give it to you?” came the amused reply. “Josh Lawson isn’t known for a life of frivolity.”
“No, but he’s known for other reasons,” Brad said defensively.
“Sure. His money and his cutthroat approach to business. But he won’t save you if you try to duck out of paying me,” the silky voice purred. “And just between us, I don’t think he’ll try. He doesn’t like gamblers. Even ones he’s related to.”
“Blood is thicker than water.”
“Strange that you should mention blood,” Donner said carelessly. “Don’t let me down, Lawson. Don’t even think about it.”
“I told you. I’m working on it.” The man chilled Brad’s blood. Donner had been connected with a couple of murders though he’d never gone to court for any of them. Brad was worried, but he had nobody to blame except himself. He didn’t really expect Josh to bail him out of this one. No, he’d have to get himself out of this mess. “I’ll get back to you next week.”
“You’d better. I know where to find you.”
“Don’t I know it.” He sighed and put down the receiver.
He needed to get his hands on a substantial amount of cash at once. He’d tried his luck at the tables, but that hadn’t worked. He knew Donner was too intelligent to leave him bleeding in a ditch even if he did look more like a wrestler than a casino owner. He would probably show up at a board meeting, cause a scene, and blow the whistle on him. Josh would then have no choice but to pay the debt and kick Brad out. Brad winced at the thought of it. He had to find a way out—any way out.
AMANDA WAS SLEEPING LATE. Josh had taken her to dinner the night before, but it had been a quiet, uncomfortable outing. Despite his attempt at humor, he was having trouble coping with their new relationship. He couldn’t seduce her, but it was impossible to think of her as Harrison Todd’s little girl anymore. He seemed to have spent the entire time working to keep his hands off her while he endured the gnawing ache in his loins. By the time they got back home, his nerves, and apparently hers, were shot. They parted company at once.
She’d mentioned going home Friday, which was tomorrow. He hadn’t argued. He’d wanted to, but she was right. It was a hopeless situation, and every day they spent together made matters worse. He didn’t want to hurt her. For her sake, it was better that she left before he lost his precarious control.
He sat down in his study and reached for the telephone. It might be a good idea, he thought, to find out how things were going with the newspaper back in San Antonio. If, as Amanda had said, Ward Johnson was paying less attention to management than he should, it didn’t bode well for the paper’s financial future—or that job press she was so worried about saving. He could at least insure that Amanda had a reasonably secure future.
* * *
WARD JOHNSON WAS making up the front page when he was called to the telephone. Down the long wooden makeup board from him, Dora Jackson was making up a grocery ad while one of the part-time people wrote cutlines for the photographs and headlines for stories as they were pasted up with hot wax on the ruled sheets.
Putting down his scissors Ward walked to the extension phone behind him. As he spoke, he couldn’t help staring at Dora. It was inconvenient having a woman who looked as good as she did in the office with him. Once they had been high school sweethearts. Now they were both married and trying to keep up happy facades. It had been impulsive and crazy of him to hire her when she’d come looking for something to keep her busy.
“Johnson,” he spoke into the receiver.
“Lawson,” came the terse reply. “I want an update on the paper’s finances.”
It took Ward a long moment to realize that his caller was Joshua Lawson. He hesitated. “Mr. Lawson,” he stammered, caught off guard. “The finances...oh, you mean the quarterly report.”
“That’s right. I need you to fax it to me today.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Include an update on the job press, could you?”
“Well, I told you about that,” Ward reminded him. “It’s a waste of capital. The newspaper will carry us along.”
“I’ve heard rumors that the Morrison group is in the planning stages of producing a throwaway to go in competition with the Gazette.” That was something Josh hadn’t mentioned to Amanda. She’d had enough stress for the past two weeks. The publication he was talking about was a free newspaper that contained mostly advertising with only a modicum of news. It was a handout, and no weekly newspaper with a subscription list could compete with one. It would rob them of advertisers in no time at all. There was a pause. “Do you know how to cope with competition from a shopper?” he added dryly.
Ward cursed under his breath. “I know all right. If you haven’t got an efficient operation, you might as well close the place down. You can’t compete with a shopper. It attracts advertisers like glue, and you don’t even have to charge for it.”
“That being the case, our revenues will have to be pretty good to stand the competition.”
“I’ll get the figures for you. How’s Amanda?”
“Healing. She’ll be back to work on Monday.”
“Nice girl. Hard worker. A little too involved sometimes. She’s full of ideas that won’t really work.”
“Really?”
Ward smiled to himself. So much for taking the wind out of Miss Todd’s sails. He’d felt threatened for the first time in years when she’d walked in the door. He knew that her family had owned the paper and that she stood to inherit a half interest or so at some point. But he’d been running the operation for fifteen years, answering only to Harrison Todd. For the past few years no one had interfered with his methods. Then Amanda had come to work for him. He wasn’t amenable to having a girl fresh out of college trying to give him orders. It was just as well that Joshua Lawson knew that, right off the bat. After all, Lawson owned the majority of the paper’s stock.
“She’s a good accountant,” Ward added to soften his criticism. It wouldn’t do to sound as if he were threatened, even if he was. “Nice head for figures.”
“So I’ve been told. Are your advertising rates up?”
“No need to raise them,” Ward argued. “We’re undercutting the dailies. We get enough without driving away old customers.”
Josh was too cagey to question that without seeing the figures. He had his finger in too many pies to keep a close check on any of his side interests. For Amanda’s sake, he was going to have to get a closer look at the Gazette.
“What’s the problem about the job press?”
“There are three other print shops with more people and more modern equipment than we have. We’ve lost a lot of customers to the quick-print place that just opened in San Antonio. It does photocopies.”
“I thought Harrison bought you a high-quality copier?”
“The girl who knew how to operate it quit. The new girl just sets type. She doesn’t know much about printing, and Tim, who runs the presses, doesn’t have time to run out and make copies when he’s got negatives and plates to make.”
Josh wanted to argue with that. Just as well he’d asked for those figures. He’d keep his counsel until then.
“All