Deception

by Grace Brannigan

  "Or maybe you dyed your hair, wore braces and put on brown contact lenses every day." He waved a hand impatiently. "Forget it. I'm going to make sure Samuel gets his second chance. Everyone deserves one, right?" He came to his feet and jammed his hat on his head. Reaching forward he held out a slip of paper. "The address -- be there by Thursday."

  She looked down at the paper. "But that's only four days," she protested, "and this address is three states away." Trey walked away. As he pushed the door closed, he saw Harry hurry across the room to Sacha. Trey still wasn't sure if she were telling the truth or if she were a very good liar, but "Katharine" was coming to see her grandfather either way.

  #

  The taxi left. Sacha stood in front of the house, her legs shaking, her body tense. Even though there was a heavy dampness in the air and the threat of more rain, she didn’t immediately move. She allowed her eyes to skim the neatly mowed lawns and the never-ending roll of fields beyond the immediate perimeter of the house. It took her a moment to catch her breath, surprised that she should feel so…moved. The scenery alone could have been worth a trip.

  She stared at the mountains jutting sharply in the distance. She had to pretend she was that granddaughter from years ago, to get through the next several weeks. But who was she pretending to be? Trey somehow had also obtained her private cell number and called her yesterday, giving her a run-down on Katharine's life. He'd left her with the impression the Katharine who had lived here at the Rambler had been half-wild and selfish. Doing as she pleased, creating havoc in everyone's life, running out on the old man without regard for the mess she left behind. Could anyone be that black and white?

  She moved up the path toward the verandah that wrapped the entire house. Ivy crept up one side of the white two-story, and there was a wild tangle of flowers on the far side of the house. The entry to the walkway was flanked on either side by stone pillars, and the walk itself looked like fairly new concrete slabs. The steps up to the verandah were the new green of pressure treated wood, with a ramp to the side.

  A car drove up the circular drive behind her, and parked along the grass. A tall man with gray hair exited the vehicle and walked towards her with a welcoming smile.

  At the same time the front door opened, and Trey stood there. "Katharine, Horace," he said, "you've both arrived. Good." He walked down the steps and paused on the bottom step.

  "Katharine, I know it's been a long time since you've seen your grandfather's attorney Horace. When I told him you were coming, he said he hadn't seen you in nine years."

  She felt a headache starting in her right temple. She still wondered what Trey's game might be.

  "Hello, Horace," she said. As he drew closer he shifted his brief case to his left hand and gripped her hand, staring into her face.

  "How are you, Katharine?" he asked with concern. "You look well. I was so happy to hear you were coming back."

  "Temporarily," she murmured.

  "Right."

  "But I'm doing well." She smiled at Horace. "It feels very strange to be here." She threw her head back. "Everything changes."

  Reaching down, she picked up her small suitcase. Horace held open the heavy front doors, and she stepped inside with Trey behind her. The air closed in on her as she walked across the blue-grained tiled floor and stopped.

  "Welcome home," Trey said behind her.

  She turned quickly, tensely, her fingers releasing her case handle, so that it hit the floor with a dull thud. Quickly, she retrieved the case.

  "It doesn’t look like home," she said.

  Trey narrowed his eyes, but said smoothly, "Samuel sold off anything of value in the last year. I’m used to it, but I imagine it looks stark."

  Had this man taken everything of value the old man owned? Katharine felt the sudden tremble in her hands. What kind of man was she dealing with?

  "Before you meet up with your grandfather," Horace said, "I need both of you to come into the office." If he picked up the hostile, uneasy undercurrents, he chose to ignore them. He led the way to a room off the foyer.

  Sacha couldn’t dispel the feeling of being in a dream. Her limbs felt heavy and cumbersome. She sat on a small black leather sofa which looked fairly new, but then pushed herself to her feet. Restlessness gripped her, leaving her off balance. It was a long time ago that she'd been a trusting young girl. Now she watched Trey warily. She needed to watch her back with him.

  Horace sat at the big rosewood desk in the corner and thumbed through the sheaf of papers in his hands. He looked up at each of them in turn and adjusted his reading glasses. "Shall we begin?" he asked.

  Trey stood on the other side of the room, feet braced and looking like he owned everything around him.

  She strived for a calm she didn’t feel. Ever since she'd stepped on this property, she felt like her life was no longer in her control. She didn't like it.

  Horace looked up. "As the family attorney, Samuel has asked me to clarify the terms of his agreement with Trey, for your benefit, of course. The sale of half the Rambler interest to Trey was a fair deal at market value --"

  Sacha turned to Trey, her brain running in ten different directions. She was starting to get a clearer picture. "I knew you were up to something," she said. "Somehow you've swindled the old man."

  There was a tense silence and then Horace cleared his throat. "Now, Katharine, just hold on a moment. Please sit down."

  She sat down.

  #

  From across the room Trey could feel the quiver of outrage that shook Sacha, and although he should have been immune to the angry look she’d given him, he wasn't.

  The property in which he’d invested his entire savings and more than two years of his life also belonged equally to Katharine Garner. She owned Samuel’s half-share, and he wanted to offer her fair market value for that share, but she wasn't really Katharine, was she?

  "Now, Katharine," Horace went on, "I've made a copy of this document for you also, but I will sum it up and if you have any questions, please do ask. You are to take up legal residence on the farm known as the Rambler for a six-month time period or your half ownership in the property and all its assets will be forfeited. During that six-month period, neither you nor Trey Montgomery can sell your interests. Katharine," he looked at her over his reading glasses, "if you decide not to remain in residence during that time period, your share will be divided among three charities. Obviously, you can do as you please, but for Trey, this could be a legal nightmare if the property should be divided upon your forfeiture.

  "The terms are very clear. If you can persuade Samuel to change it, I would suggest you do so. Both of you will have equal control over all tangible and intangible assets. If at the end of the six months you decide to go your separate ways, one or both of you could sell out." Horace looked at him. "As you know, Samuel’s intent is that you work together toward the success of the farm."

  Trey saw the worried look Horace gave Sacha. "I did try to talk him out of it, but as you can see I wasn’t successful."

  She crossed her arms.

  "For the benefit of the farm, we need to pull together," Trey said.

  She glared at him.

  "Katharine --" Horace began.

  She stood up. "The bushes are overtaking the front yard, the house needs paint and one of the second story windows looked like it's missing. Why isn’t money going into the upkeep of the house?"

  "There are more important considerations right now." Trey hung onto his patience, but her questions grated on him. "However, I do have the window on order."

  "What’s more important? Your salary?"

  Trey gritted his teeth. "Let Horace finish going over the financial statement before you make any judgments."

  She began to pace the room. "I agreed to come back for a short time. I can't put my life on hold for six months."

  Trey wondered if she thought he’d manipulated the situation -- and maybe he had. "If you leave, I lose too, and I won’t let that happen."
>
  "You can’t force me to do anything."

  Trey spun away from her in disgust. He threw out his hand to Horace. "Would you please explain it to her? I’ve got work waiting for my time."

  "Trey bought half the farm and I handled the transaction myself. Samuel’s plan was to sell Trey the remaining half, but he wanted to talk with you first. Samuel has had a lot of medical expenses, and he was in dire need of the money." Horace paused, and Trey nodded at him to go on. "Your grandfather unfortunately was burglarized several years ago. Right now Trey owns every horse but one at the farm, and the breeding cattle are all his. As part of the agreement, he paid off all Samuel’s debt, and that's why the farm is slowly making its way back."

  "Your husband Brian tried to bleed Samuel dry after you left."

  Sacha hurriedly looked at Trey, then back at Horace. "Horace, you've been very good to explain this," she said evenly, "but now Trey and I need to talk."

  "Very well. I'm going to visit with Samuel. Catch me before I leave if there are any further questions."

  "He -- he's here?" she asked as the door closed behind Horace. She looked at Trey. She had not thought that far ahead. "I know you said he was sick. I thought he was in special care at a nursing facility or some such place. How do you pretend to an old man who's dying?"

  "He's nearly blind." He held up a hand as she narrowed her eyes. "Before you say anything, nearly blind or not, no one will ever get anything over on Samuel."

  She turned away from him. "I hate what you're doing to me and possibly the old man," she said. With her back to him she stood at the window behind the desk, which looked out onto the front of the house. She felt wound tighter than a spring, ready to explode but seeing the hills outside gave her a measure of calm. "So now I have a husband you forgot to mention."

  "Brian tried to extort money from Samuel after you took off."

  She swallowed. "After Katharine took off. Is the marriage still valid?"

  "No. Apparently it never was."

  Tensely, she looked over her shoulder. "Explain it to me."

  "When Katharine left, Brian came to the farm looking for her. Samuel had no idea where she was, or even until that moment that she was gone. Brian demanded money from Samuel. He claimed she took a hammer to his new SUV."

  She turned shocked eyes on him.

  "Luckily, Samuel contacted Horace and had him do some digging on Brian. It turns out Brian was married to someone else for about three years, so their marriage was never legal to begin with."

  "Why would he think he had a right to any compensation?"

  "Because he's out to get whatever he can. To get him out of Katharine's life, Samuel gave him several thousand dollars with the promise of three more when he sold the farm."

  Sacha put up a hand. "Enough -- enough. You're involving me in things that are getting more and more complicated. Why would you interfere in my life? I had things on track. With my art I'd finally found something that was my creation from the ground up."

  Her words touched something deep inside Trey. "Believe it or not I understand. I've also worked my way from the ground up."

  "If you really understood, you wouldn't do this."

  "Samuel's been darned good to me. All he wants is his granddaughter. He gave her everything; a home, money, horses, cars, anything she wanted. She ran out and never looked back."

  "Maybe she's dead," Sacha said, the words stark and cold.

  He looked surprised, then stepped closer. "You are one cool customer, I'll give you that." He shrugged. "Maybe she is dead. Maybe she's been dead all these years. But whatever happened, I'm giving Samuel a granddaughter, and maybe he'll die a happy man."

  She met him glance for glance. He noticed the shining cap of her hair, the auburn highlights like fire under the light cast by the lamp. For a moment, he had a strange urge to reach out and caress that hair. The thin strap of her top slid across her shoulder, exposing the fragile bones there. Strangely, he wanted to offer her reassurance, but he knew he had none to give. Right now, the Rambler was everything he'd ever wanted and everything he might lose if this all went to hell.

  "So you'll stay?" he asked. "When it's over, I won't bother you again."

  She made an exasperated sound and turned away. She stared out the window. "I don't have a choice, do I? I hate that it's all a lie," she said intensely. "You'd be better off if you never brought me back here. Katharine could be declared dead, and you'd have it all."

  "Maybe it's more important that I keep the hope alive in the old man," he said.

  #

  Sacha didn't have anything else to say. She felt too bombarded by this entire situation.

  "Why don't I show you your room? You can have a little time before you meet Samuel." he suggested.

  She nodded. "I've been traveling all day." She tried to calm the panic at being here, but a sense of invasion filled her. The heat rose from the depths of her body, beading sweat on her forehead and upper lip. All her life she'd felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled. The last several years, she'd thought she was finally free, but then this cowboy had come into her new life, her gallery showing, and her world was suddenly tilted sideways.

  She was stuck here for now. Trey was right to some degree. She wasn't sure how her corporate sponsors would react to someone new to their scene with a welfare fraud background. For now, that was hidden. She could see no way out, and she still had the most difficult task ahead of her: meeting Samuel.

  "Let's go."

  He indicated the staircase. "Upstairs, first door."

  He reached for her case but she shook her head and hoisted it herself. Trey followed her upstairs. "I came to work for Samuel a few months after you -- Katharine -- left. It was easy to see he needed someone to take this place in hand."

  "And you just happened to be there to fill the need?" she asked sarcastically.

  He looked away. "I was in the area. I asked around for work."

  "And this Brian?" she asked crisply. "How do you know he won't come back to harass Katharine?"

  "He's been in jail for embezzlement for the last three years."

  "Have you been keeping track of him?" she asked in surprise.

  "For Samuel's sake, yes."

  "Did you know him?" she asked stiffly.

  "Yes."

  She was shocked that he answered in the affirmative.

  "I’d known Brian a long time," he added, piercing her with a hard stare. "Here's your room. When do you want to meet Samuel?"

  "In about twenty minutes." She wanted to move through this next part, since it would only make things harder for her if she waited. "There's no sense in delaying it," she added.

  "I agree, though I thought you might want to put it off."

  "You never told me what's wrong with him?" she asked stiffly.

  "Samuel has congestive heart failure. At the moment he seems to be holding his own, though about four months ago he suffered a double heart attack. He is eighty-six years old."

  "And he knows you've asked me to come here?"

  "I told him this morning." He narrowed his eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were coming before I talked to him."

  "You must realize what you're setting up here could backfire not only causing damage to the man you're trying to help --"

  "There's always a risk," he conceded.

  "-- but what if I decide to push you out -- maybe as Katharine I could persuade Samuel that I want it all."

  "There's always fingerprints," he said. The power emanating from him reinforced her earlier thoughts that she needed to discover his real motives.

  She pushed the bedroom door open.

  "Just remember --" he said.

  She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "Yes, yes, I know," she cut him off. "I'm Katharine."

  He nodded. "I'll be back."

  Sacha watched him turn and retrace his steps down the stairs. She went into the room he'd indicated and quickly closed the door and locked it. Her knees gave way and
she reached for a chair in front of a dressing table and quickly sat down.

  A flutter of panic rippled through her, her heart pounding in her chest. She closed her eyes, taking deep calming breaths, until slowly, gradually, the pounding subsided. She hated this trapped feeling, as if she were being pushed somewhere against her will. But she wouldn't be pushed, she would maintain her own control. She had promised herself years ago she would never again be at the mercy of another human being. Right now, she needed a strategy.

  #

  Sacha looked through the bedroom, surprised to find the dresser drawers full. Jeans, shirts; there were even underclothes still in packaging. The flowered paper on the walls looked timeless, but the cutsie pink flowers reminded her of something a little girl would like. She reached up to a row of shelves, lightly touching a finely crafted carousel horse, an antique doll, its china face worn and faded. A young girl's dream, except young girls grew up into women. She felt like boxing up this dated stuff during her stay here. It just felt too uncomfortable staying in the room with it all.

  Without giving it any more thought, Sacha pulled the dolls from the shelves, the carousel horse, Christmas ornaments. She gathered them in her arms and walked across the room to the window overlooking the front driveway. She placed the items in a pile on the window seat. She would find a box later.

  Trey's information about Katharine had included continuous quarrels with Samuel. The relationship had been uncertain and full of rebellion. And then there was Brian, a man Samuel never trusted, and someone the young Katharine had idolized and adored. She grimaced with distaste. What a mess!

  Sacha felt a catch of sadness for what people allowed to happen in their lives. People were selfish, loved ones got hurt; it all seemed so senseless at times.

  Checking her watch, she left the bedroom and began to descend the stairs, not surprised to find Trey waiting for her.

  Without a word, he led the way toward the back of the house. Sacha heard the murmur of voices as they kept walking.

  "I will get up, by God. I've been an invalid long enough." The irritated growl reached her as Trey paused outside a door. He knocked once and pushed the door inward. She began to feel lightheaded.

  "I'll see my granddaughter on my own two feet!" that same deep voice growled.

  Sacha stepped into the room, almost reeling at the hospital-like scent of alcohol and antiseptic that hung in the air. For a moment, an almost cloying panic gripped her, and she had a strong urge to back out of the room. She put a hand to her forehead, blinking her eyes, trying to pull herself out of it. She made herself focus on the old man struggling to stand upright, but who fell back into a bedside chair. The woman behind him, who wore a name tag with Helen on it, helped steady him as he pushed himself back into the seat. His glance fell sharply on her, his watery blue eyes narrowed and suspicious.