by Lisa Jackson
Ashley lowered her forehead into her hands and gave in to the tears threatening her eyes. “I really didn’t think it would all come down to this,” she whispered. All the lies about her family and her father were really true.
Trevor sat on the couch beside her and kissed away the lines etching her smooth brow. “We can handle it if we just stick together.”
“I thought you wanted me to leave.”
He took her hand and his eyes narrowed in concern. “I never want you to leave, but I think that it might be safer for you.”
“Safer?” Her face suddenly lost all expression as the meaning of his words became clear and rang dully in her weary mind. “There’s something you haven’t been telling me, isn’t there? A reason why you want me to go. Ever since I got here last night, I’ve had the feeling that there was something bothering you, as if there is some kind of danger lurking around every corner. It’s more than concern about your reputation or even losing the senatorial race, isn’t it?
“Trevor, what’s going on? And don’t give me any double talk about reporters and mudslinging.” Her face was grave. “I want the truth. All of it. And I want it now.”
Trevor let out a weary sigh and touched her cheek tenderly before lowering his eyes.
“What did Claud say, Trevor? When I came here last night you said something to the effect that you never thought you’d see me again. At the time, I thought you were talking about the scandal, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?” She noticed him wince and pale and a wave of understanding washed over her in cold rushes of the truth. Everything, all of Trevor’s actions, were beginning to make sense. “Oh my God . . . Claud threatened you, didn’t he? And . . . the price was my life!”
Chapter Twelve
Trevor closed his eyes against the cold truth. His lips whitened and he swallowed back the savage rage that had been with him for the better part of two days.
“Yes,” he ground out, as if the admission itself were tearing him into small pieces, making him impotent against the injustice of the world. “Claud told me point-blank that if I didn’t get out of the race, you would get hurt.”
“But he only meant that he would ruin my reputation,” Ashley protested weakly.
Trevor’s eyes glittered dangerously. “He meant that and more. He’d feed you to the wolves if it would save his skin.”
“But surely you couldn’t believe—”
“What I couldn’t do was take a chance with your life. I know how ruthless your cousin can be. He nearly killed me by having my car tampered with, and I’ll lay you odds that he was involved in my father’s disappearance.”
“But he was only twenty-two.”
“And a very ruthless, determined man. He learned his lessons from the master well.”
“Meaning my father.” Ashley slumped against the cushions of the couch, wishing there was some way to end the pain, the agony, the bitterness and hatred between the families of Stephens and Daniels.
“Are you beginning to understand what we’re facing?” he asked. “That’s why I think you should go away. Just until Claud is safely behind bars and the press has cooled off a little.”
Ashley shook her head. “It won’t matter. If I did leave, the minute I’d get back to Portland, someone would hear about it and the reporters would start to track me down. That’s how it works. If I left we’d only be putting off the inevitable. As for Claud, I’m not afraid of him. I told you before that violence isn’t his style. If there’s dirty work to be done, he’d hire someone else to do it, and I can’t really believe that he’s desperate enough to harm me.
“I’m staying and we’re going to fight this thing together,” she finished determinedly. A small, proud smile touched Trevor’s lips. Having made her decision, she straightened, slipped on her shoes and stood.
Trevor was still considering the options. She noticed that the wariness hadn’t left his eyes. “Then you’re staying here, with me. That way, I’ll know you’re safe.”
“I can’t just sit around here like some fearful hostage. I’ve got a job—”
“With Claud.”
“That will be rectified very shortly.”
“Then stay with me for a couple of days—”
“Just that long?”
Trevor smiled despite his fears. “You’re welcome forever, you know that. As far as going to work, forget it. You’d be too vulnerable.”
“I can’t—”
“Let that accountant take care of things.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes for the private investigator to put the pieces together and convince the police that Claud’s dangerous.”
“Oh, Trevor, you’re jumping at shadows. Claud would never hurt me.”
“That’s a chance I’m not willing to take.”
Seeing that there was no way she could convince him otherwise, she gave in. “In that case, I’d better dash home and pack a few things.”
“I think it would be safer if you stayed here.”
Ashley smiled indulgently. “I’ve lived in these clothes for two days. I need to change into something more practical than heels, a silk blouse and a skirt. I feel positively grody.”
Trevor’s eyes slid down her body. “You look great.”
“But I feel sticky. Now, nothing you have here is going to fit, so I’d better go home and pack a few things. I’ll be perfectly safe. Mrs. Deveraux is home; I just called her a few minutes ago.”
“I don’t know—”
“Give me a break, Trevor.”
“All right. I’ll come with you,” he said finally, reaching for his wallet and stuffing it into his back pocket.
“I thought you had to stay here and wait for Everett’s call.”
“The recorder will take the message. Or, he’ll call back.”
“But—”
“You’re stuck with me, okay? I’ve worried enough about you and I’m not about to let you out of my sight, not until I’m satisfied that you’re not in any danger.”
“Worrywart.”
Trevor helped her with her coat and his fingers lingered on the back of her neck. “It’s just that I can’t take any chances,” he said roughly, his voice catching on the words. “You’re the most important thing in my life.” Gently he touched her shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him. “Nothing else matters—my career, this house—” he gestured widely to encompass all of the estate “—nothing. Unless you’re with me.”
“But for so many years—”
“I was alone. I lived, Ashley, and I thought I could bury myself in my work. I guess I was somewhat satisfied. But then in December, when I saw you again, I knew that I’d been living a lie and that I could never go back to that empty life again.”
“But you didn’t call, or write. I didn’t hear anything from you.”
“Because I knew that it would be no good until we settled what had happened in the past. And that included the truth about your family as well as mine.”
Just as Trevor reached for the handle of the door, Ashley heard a car roar down the driveway.
“Damn,” Trevor muttered. “Too late. Some reporter must have gotten tired of leaving a message with the recorder.” His blue eyes pierced into hers. “Are you ready for this?”
Ashley braced herself and her fingers twined in the strength of his. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The doorbell rang impatiently several times and then a fist pounded furiously on the door.
“Not the most patient guy around,” Trevor mumbled. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
He jerked open the door and Claud rushed into the foyer, his face ashen, his eyes dark with accusations when they rested on Ashley.
“Wait a minute,” Trevor said, placing his body between that of Ashley and her cousin. “What’re you doing here?”
“We had a deal,” Claud spat out. Then he straightened, regained a small portion of his dignity and let his cold eyes rest on Ashley. “I thought
I’d find you here.”
“What do you want, Claud?”
“Call him off!” her cousin blurted furiously.
“Who? What?”
“Him!” Claud pointed an accusatory finger in Trevor’s direction and it shook with the rage enveloping him. “That bastard’s been hounding me for the last month.”
“I think you should calm down—”
“And I think you should leave, while you still can.” Trevor’s eyes snapped.
Claud stopped abruptly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that we’re on to you, Stephens.”
Visibly paling, Claud turned to Ashley. “He’s been telling you all sorts of lies, I suppose.”
Ashley held out her palm, hoping to diffuse the uncomfortable tension. She never really had been afraid of her cousin and she couldn’t really fear him now. Despite Trevor’s accusations, Claud was too much of a coward to try to do her physical harm. “Why don’t we all go into the living room and I’ll make some coffee. We can discuss whatever it is we need to, once everyone has calmed down.”
“I don’t know. . . .” Trevor said, his eyes calculating as he studied his opponent.
“I don’t want any coffee—”
“Something stronger?” Ashley asked, watching Claud walk agitatedly back and forth in the foyer. She started toward the living room and Claud followed.
“I need to talk to you alone.”
“Not on your life,” Trevor boomed, falling into step with Ashley. “I’m not about to forget what you said a couple of days ago, something to the effect that Ashley was expendable and you were willing to do the expending.”
“He’s lying, Ash! I swear—”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Trevor suggested, and the look of steely determination in his eyes coupled with his tightly clenched fists convinced Claud to keep quiet.
Claud sank into one of the stiff royal blue chairs near the bay window and had to hold on to his knee to keep it from shaking. “There’s been some guy following me, Ashley,” he said, avoiding the deadly look on Trevor’s face and concentrating on his cousin. “I don’t know who or why, but I think that it’s someone looking for information about the company. You know, there’s kidnappings all the time—families with money.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Trevor said with a cynical smile growing from one side of his face to the other. He sat next to Ashley on the couch, one arm curved protectively over her shoulders, the other at his side. He looked coolly disinterested, almost bored with the conversation, but he was tense, all of his muscles coiled. Ashley could feel it. If he had to, Trevor was ready to spring on Claud.
“I think someone might try to kidnap me, for God’s sake!”
“Why? Who would pay the ransom?” Trevor demanded, his lips curling bitterly.
“Ashley, please. Can I talk to you alone?” Claud was beginning to sweat. Tiny droplets formed on his forehead and there was a note of desperation in his voice.
“Forget it.”
“I can speak for myself,” Ashley intervened, but Trevor would hear none of it. He leaned forward, pushing his body closer and more threateningly toward Claud.
“While we’re on the subject of kidnappings, why don’t we discuss what happened to my father,” Trevor suggested, his voice low and demanding. “I have an idea that you know just what went on ten years ago.”
Claud lost all his color. His bravado was dismantled and he suddenly looked like a very small and frightened man. Nervously, he toyed with his mustache.
Movement caught Trevor’s eye and he looked from the scared face of Ashley’s cousin through the window behind Claud. “It looks as if we have more company—”
“What?” Claud’s gaze moved to the long drive and he saw the police car driving toward the house. “Oh my God . . .” Turning frantic eyes on Ashley, he whispered, “You can’t let this happen. Daniels is trying to frame me for something that I had no part in. Ashley—for God’s sake, you’re my cousin, can’t you help me?”
Ashley’s throat was dry. No matter how miserable Claud was, he was still her own flesh and blood. The doorbell rang impatiently just as she answered. “I’ll call Nick Simpson.”
“Jesus Christ, Ash, I need more than an attorney!”
“Then I suggest you start talking, and fast,” Trevor insisted, “if you want to save your miserable hide.” Trevor was convinced that Claud wouldn’t do anything harmful to the one person he felt would save him. “Stay where you are,” he warned as he left to answer the door.
Claud nearly leaped across the living room, so that he was close to Ashley. “I need to get out of here. I just want a little time, show me the back way out—”
“You can’t escape like they do on TV, Claud. This isn’t ‘Magnum, P. I.’”
“But I haven’t done anything—”
His words were cut off by the entrance of two policemen.
“Claud Stephens?” the taller of the two asked.
Claud made one more appealing look in Ashley’s direction before straightening and finally finding his voice. “Yes?”
As Ashley sat in stunned disbelief, the officer read Claud his rights and escorted him outside to the waiting police car. For several minutes she sat on the couch, trying to quell the storm of emotions raging within her.
“Was that really necessary?” she asked, her eyes searching the harsh angles of Trevor’s face once he returned to the living room.
“I wish it weren’t,” he admitted, “but whether you believe it or not, Claud can be dangerous.” He noticed that Ashley had paled. She was still wearing her coat, but looked as if she were cold and dead inside.
“I don’t think we should go anywhere, not for a while.” He came back to the couch and wrapped comforting arms around her. “Come on,” he said, squeezing her tightly, “I’ll get you a drink.”
“I . . . I don’t think I want one.”
“It’s been a rough couple of days, and it’s bound to get worse,” he cajoled.
“Then I think I’d better keep my wits about me.” She ran her anxious fingers through her blue-black hair. “And there’s no reason to put off going back to the house, now that the police have Claud.” She forced her uneasiness aside and tried to concentrate on Trevor and her love for him. Regardless of anything that might come between them in the future, she felt secure in his love.
“I don’t think it would be wise—”
Ashley placed a steady finger to his lips. “Shhh. If I’m going to be your wife, Senator, I’d better learn to cope with crises, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“But that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it—for better or for worse?”
“You are incredible,” he said with a seductive smile.
She slapped him on the thigh and stood up, filled with renewed conviction. “Let’s get a move on. I wouldn’t want to miss the reporters when they get here.”
Trevor groaned, but got off of the couch. “Anything you say.” He laughed and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
* * *
When they returned to Trevor’s home, after having tea and a lengthy discussion with Mrs. Deveraux, Trevor checked the messages on the tape recorder. As he had suspected, several reporters had called requesting interviews. There was also a terse message from Everett to call him immediately.
Trevor dialed Everett’s number and smiled wickedly as the agitated campaign manager answered.
“I thought you were going to wait for my call,” Everett complained. Trevor could picture steam coming out of the campaign manager’s ears.
“I had other things on my mind. . . .” Trevor’s eyes slid appreciatively up Ashley’s body. Dressed in jeans and a red sweater, with her black hair looped into a loose braid wound at the base of her neck, she looked comfortable and at home in Trevor’s huge house.
“I’ll bet,” Everett replied. “Now that you and Ashley are together, you’ll never be ab
le to keep your mind on the campaign.”
“That would be a shame,” Trevor murmured irreverently as his eyes followed Ashley up the polished wooden stairs. She was carrying two suitcases, oblivious to his stare or the fact that her jeans were stretched provocatively over her behind as she mounted each step.
“Listen, there are a couple of things you really should know,” Everett commanded. “And they have to do with Ashley and Stephens Timber.”
The low tone of Everett’s voice and the mention of Ashley’s name captured Trevor’s attention. “I’m listening.”
“You’d better brace yourself,” Everett warned. “Claud Stephens has started to talk. . . .”
* * *
Ashley felt his eyes on her back as she unfolded the last blouse and hung it in the closet. She whirled to face Trevor, a sly smile perched on her lips. “What took you so long?” she asked, but the wicked grin fell from her face when she saw Trevor’s expression. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching her silently and fighting the overwhelming urge to break down. “What happened?” She was beside him in an instant, placing her warm hands against his face. He managed a bitter smile filled with grief.
“The case against Claud looks pretty solid,” Trevor said at length, while gazing into the misty depths of her sea-green eyes. “The private investigator I hired called Everett when he couldn’t reach me.”
“And?”
“Claud’s having a rough time. He can’t seem to make up his mind whether he needs an attorney or should plea-bargain on his own. I think he opted for the lawyer.”
“I hope so,” Ashley said fervently. “Claud’s used to doing things his own way, and since he’s a lawyer I was afraid he would try to defend himself.”
“He’s smarter than that.” Trevor entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. His shoulders sagged and he forced tense fingers through his unruly chestnut hair.
“What else?” Ashley asked as she sat next to him. She felt her throat constrict with dread. Something horrible had happened to Trevor. What?
Trevor’s midnight-blue eyes pierced into hers and his arms wrapped around her as if in support. “Claud’s desperately trying to clear his own name, you realize.”