by Mari Carr
Mrs. Wythe’s brows lifted with interest. “Really? That would make her Grant’s great-aunt. Did I ever tell you Jessica was my mentor in the Trinity Masters for a brief time?”
“She was?” Elyse asked, hoping her tone sounded merely interested rather than horrified. She had learned far too many unsavory facts about Jessica Breton, including her Nazi sympathies and her secret, sizable donations to organizations that worked against civil rights and supported anti-Semitic causes. It seemed Jessica had been well ensconced on the wrong side of every issue during the thirties and forties.
“Yes. Jessica was a beautiful woman, so intelligent and well-spoken. She was a counselor to the Grand Master and her father was a very successful state Senator. I was eighteen when I joined the society. So young and unaware of my place in the world.”
Elyse tucked that piece of information away to share with Sebastian.
“I met so many important people through Jessica,” Mrs. Wythe continued. “It was one of the reasons I was delighted when the Grand Master asked me to take you under my wing. It gave me a way to pay it forward for Jessica’s kind guidance.”
“She sounds lovely.” It was a lie and it took some effort to speak the words, but Elyse knew better than to reveal too much.
“So needless to say, I’m dying to meet her great-nephew. That is…if you’re planning to stay in Boston. I recall you took a trip to L.A. a few weeks ago. Was that in preparation of moving to Grant’s home?”
Elyse shook her head. “Oh, no. That was simply a quick visit. Grant needed to pack some things for his extended stay here. While his loft was beautiful, we’re living in my condo for the immediate future.”
A shadow of a frown crossed Mrs. Wythe’s face before her usual countenance returned. “So his apartment was nice?”
Elyse nodded, her mentor’s question was odd and it seemed as if Mrs. Wythe knew she was lying. The loft had been destroyed, but there was no way Katherine could know that. Elyse chalked up the niggling, poking feeling to paranoia. She’d been jumping at shadows ever since that break-in at the hotel.
Regardless, Elyse felt compelled to push this conversation a bit. Sebastian and Grant had hit nothing but brick walls in their investigation. The fact that Mrs. Wythe knew Jessica felt like a boon, something Elyse should explore.
She wondered if Sebastian would be proud of or annoyed by her newfound interest in spying. Maybe she should consider working as a CIA asset.
“Grant plans to hire a moving company soon to pack up the rest of his things. The only reason we made the trip was so that he could grab the important items, you know, his laptop, some important papers and family heirlooms he wasn’t comfortable leaving behind.”
To a normal person, Elyse’s comment would have made complete sense and caused no reason for interest. She was devastated when Mrs. Wythe’s attention was piqued.
“Heirlooms?”
Elyse gave her a breezy nod, but didn’t reply. Silently she prayed Mrs. Wythe wouldn’t pursue it.
“Well, I must admit I’m curious about that. I know Jessica had some lovely jewelry. She didn’t have any children, so I’m wondering if any of that was passed down to Grant. You’d be a very lucky girl indeed to inherit those pieces.”
Elyse slowly released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Of course. Jewelry. Mrs. Wythe would obviously appreciate that sort of bequest. She was in possession of enough jewels to fund a small country for a decade. She had allowed Elyse to borrow a stunning diamond necklace one night to wear to a fundraiser the two of them had attended together.
“I’m afraid I didn’t see any jewelry. Perhaps Grant’s grandmother or mother has all of that.”
Mrs. Wythe took a sip of her tea as she digested that information. “Then what heirlooms did he bring back?”
The question was asked innocently enough, but it took Elyse down like an avalanche. She took a sip from her own cup, proud of how steady her hand was—in spite of the fact she’d just had her eyes opened to the very real possibility that Katherine knew about and possibly belonged to the purists.
Elyse shrugged as if bored by the conversation, then put her cup down on the coffee table. “Oh, I’m not really sure. Just a bunch of old papers.” As she spoke, she rose and walked to the mantel, looking at a photograph of Mrs. Wythe on her wedding day, flanked by two imposing, powerful men. “Your husbands were very handsome. What were their names again?”
“Victor Wright and my dear Charles.”
Charles Wythe. C.W.
Though his name had been on the list Franco supplied Sebastian, they hadn’t seriously investigated the man. For one thing, there had been nothing to tie Charles to Richard and Jessica, either professionally or personally. Jessica’s mentorship of Katherine must have been a very short, private connection because there was no mention of it in any file.
And finally, Elyse had dismissed the man, claiming he was Katherine’s husband and asserting there was no way either of them could be involved in the purist sect. Elyse had gone on to list all of the charitable, socially aware organizations Mrs. Wythe was involved in.
Elyse jumped slightly when Mrs. Wythe spoke again. At some point, the elderly woman had risen and joined Elyse at the mantel.
“That’s Jessica there.” Mrs. Wythe pointed to a beautiful woman Elyse had always assumed was Katherine’s mother.
There were definitely some familial likenesses between the woman and Grant.
“Not a day goes by when I don’t think about Jessica and miss her.”
Elyse turned, surprised to see tears in Mrs. Wythe’s eyes. She had never seen the woman cry, never seen her be anything other than incredibly stoic and strong.
Uncertain how to respond, Elyse reached for Mrs. Wythe’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Katherine.”
“Her death was sudden. A heart attack when she was only thirty-nine years old. And it came at a time when I was traveling abroad. I missed her funeral. I wonder…” Mrs. Wythe paused, as if hesitant to go on.
“Wonder what?”
“I wonder if I could look at the heirlooms Grant has. We used to correspond frequently and I’m curious to see if she saved any of my letters.”
Mrs. Wythe’s sorrow seemed so genuine, so sincere, Elyse found herself questioning whether or not she’d misread this entire conversation. For seven years, Mrs. Wythe had indeed been like a grandmother to her. Elyse loved the woman dearly. It was difficult for her to believe that Katherine would ever take part in anything so horrible as the secret sect.
“I don’t recall seeing any letters,” Elyse said slowly, wondering if Mrs. Wythe would push the issues.
“Would you mind asking Grant for me? I’d love to reread some of that old correspondence.”
“I’ll ask.”
“I’d love to see anything that he has from her. That he doesn’t mind sharing with me, of course. Jessica used to collect some beautiful things, silhouette portraits and maps.”
Elyse’s hands turned to ice. Maps.
She fought hard to maintain her composure. “I—” Her chest had seized, gone tight. She needed to get out of here. She cleared her throat. “I don’t know about any of that.”
Considering Mrs. Wythe had just been wiping away tears a few moments earlier, her gaze was too intense, too keen. Elyse was uncomfortable under her sharp scrutiny.
“But you’ll look, yes? For me?”
Elyse nodded, the slight action making her dizzy in her light-headedness. “I’m afraid I need to go. I’ve got a few things to do this afternoon.”
The sooner Elyse got out of this house, the better.
“Of course. It was lovely to see you. We really must make plans for you to bring those new men of yours over to meet me soon.”
Elyse reached for her purse before walking back to the foyer where she’d hung her coat. “Sure. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“I hope you will.”
Elyse said a rushed goodbye as she departed Mrs. Wythe’s house, walking rapidly
toward her car. Her mind whirled over what to do next.
If her suspicions proved correct, her beloved Mrs. Wythe was part of the purists and responsible for the break-in at Grant’s loft and the hotel.
Elyse’s initial shock gave way to a searing anger as she made her way back to her condo and to her future husbands. As she drove, she crafted a plan. She wanted to see the secret sect exposed and shut down. Only then could she focus on forging a happy future with the two men she’d fallen in love with.
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastian listened as Elyse recounted her conversation with Mrs. Wythe. For weeks, they’d been spinning their wheels, investigating everyone with ties to Richard Breton. Charles and Katherine Wythe’s names had never appeared in the mix, short of Charles’ name appearing on the list of members with the initials C.W.
When he’d first shown that list to Grant and Elyse, he’d been worried about Elyse’s reaction when she spotted her grandfather, Maximilian, on it. Elyse hadn’t blinked an eye at that name, but had instead insisted that there was absolutely no possibility that Katherine’s husband could be involved in something so unsavory.
Sebastian had teased her about not defending her own flesh and blood, but she’d merely shrugged and said Max Hunt was a more likely candidate than Katherine.
“I just can’t believe it,” she said for the four-hundredth time. “I’m so upset. And fucking pissed off. How could she have deceived me for so long?”
Elyse had always had issues with trust. Her brother had let her down, then him, and now Mrs. Wythe. Sebastian hated to see her constantly hurt by the people she cared about.
Grant sat down next to her on the couch and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Elle, you still don’t have any definite proof Mrs. Wythe is connected to the purists. Perhaps she was truly blind to Jessica’s actions.”
She looked at Grant incredulously. “Do you seriously believe she’s not involved?”
Grant closed his eyes briefly. “No. I think she knows. To mention the map…”
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair. He’d been sleeping like shit for weeks. Between long hours spent studying the Trinity Master’s files, sex marathons with Grant and Elyse, and guilt over hiding the truth about their futures, he was worn out—physically and emotionally.
He was in love with Elyse and he had been since they were eighteen. And he’d come to think of Grant as one of the best friends he’d ever had, a brother even. The longer they were together and he let the deception remain, the deeper he dug himself into a hole. If he couldn’t convince Juliette to let them marry, if they found out he knew this was all a farce, he’d lose both of them. Forever. They would never forgive him for this. God, he couldn’t forgive himself.
Sebastian walked over to the coffee table and perched on the end. “I need to call Juliette and fill her in.”
“And say what? Juliette doesn’t know that I know about this investigation. Won’t it seem a bit suspicious that I’m having conversations with Katherine about a map and Jessica Breton?”
Sebastian blew out a long exasperated breath. “Then I’ll dig for the information. We need to set up some sort of dinner date with Mrs. Wythe. See if we can get close to her.”
Elyse shook her head. “No. She’s too smart for that. She knows about your ties to the Trinity Masters, Seb. Your loyalty runs too deep. She’ll never confide in you.”
“Then me,” Grant said. “She was clearly fond of my great-aunt. It shouldn’t be too difficult for me to convince her that the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree.”
Again, Elyse dismissed the suggestion. “You’re both underestimating her. The purists tried to rob you rather than recruit you, Grant. They’ve obviously done their own assessment of you over the past seventeen years and determined you wouldn’t fit in. Think about it. These purists are members. Chances are good they come to the Trinity Masters’ galas with the intention of feeling out people they think might follow their cause. Somewhere along the line, you said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Otherwise, they would have tried to recruit you years ago.”
Sebastian rubbed his jaw, trying to find some way to unclench it. He was frustrated as hell. She made a very good point. Chances were slim Mrs. Wythe would take either of them into her confidence. Which put them back behind the brick wall they’d been slamming their heads against for weeks.
“Maybe I could turn suspicion back on Charles Wythe somehow. Juliette might know of someone who could—”
“You’re kidding, right?” Elyse asked, cutting Sebastian off mid-sentence. “Are you guys being purposely obtuse?”
“What do you mean?” Grant asked, clearly as confused as Sebastian.
Elyse raised one finger and directed it toward herself. “Me. I’m already close enough. The very fact that she asked me to bring her the map tells me she thinks she’s gained my trust. For all I know, she’s been breeding me for her little underground society all these years. Like I’ve said, my father and grandfather aren’t known for being particularly altruistic. They’re uber-conservative, protective of their money and more than a little bit power hungry. Seems to me it’s my fruit Katherine believes hasn’t fallen far from the tree.”
“But surely she knows you’re not like that after all these years of friendship,” Grant argued.
Elyse shrugged. “This may come as a shock to you guys, but I’m not exactly brimming with self-confidence. For at least the first four years of my acquaintance with Katherine, I was too intimidated to say much. I have grown a bit of a backbone, but I have no doubt she sees me as someone she can easily influence. I’m not particularly proud of that. Which is one reason why I’m so damn mad right now. And why I’d like to show her exactly who she’s dealing with.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No, you’re not getting involved in this. These people could be dangerous. They’re obviously willing to do whatever it takes to protect their secrets. There’s no way I’m letting you walk into that lion’s den.”
“But—”
“Save your breath, Elle,” Grant said, turning to cup her face in his large palm. “I’m with Seb on this. Put it out of your head right now. It’s not happening.”
While Sebastian appreciated Grant’s support, as always, he overstated the case, coming off way too caveman.
Elyse rose from the couch, her face red with fury, her hands waving wildly. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I may let you guys order me around in the bedroom, but I have by no means made you lords and masters of my life.”
Sebastian stood up quickly, adopting a gentler tone. “We’re not trying to control you. God, if anything happened to you,” he reached out to place his hands on her shoulders, “you know it would kill me—kill us—right? I just got you back, Elle. I can’t lose you again.” They were the most sincere words he’d ever said. Because all he’d been able to think about for weeks was eventually losing her.
The scowl lines on her forehead faded, her anger seeming to evaporate. He loved how easygoing she was. Though she had brief outbursts of anger, she never held on to it. Her forgiveness came quick.
“I feel the same way about the two of you. I hate that someone hurt Grant, hate knowing he could still be a target as they search for that map. And don’t even get me started on your career with the CIA.”
He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Then you understand what we’re saying.”
She nodded and glanced over at Grant, who gave her a rueful grin.
“I suck at saying things with any level of political correctness,” Grant admitted.
Her brows rose, but clearly the anger had passed. “So I’ve noticed.”
“Seb said what I was thinking a hell of a lot better than I did.”
She sighed as she reclaimed her seat on the couch. “I’m tired of living in limbo. We’re less than a week away from the official marriage ceremony and I don’t feel like we’ve addressed anything about our personal lives.”
They still believed this thi
rty-day bonding period was going to end in a wedding, despite the fact they’d been given no task. Sebastian was to blame for that. Every time the topic of the future came up, he changed the subject. Today wouldn’t be any different.
“We’re close now, Elle. You’ve given us our first break in weeks.” Sebastian reached down to pull her into his arms. Elyse, as always, curled into his embrace as if she’d been there forever. “For now, I think we should call it a day on the investigation. Give ourselves a break.”
He kissed her hard, anxious to drive every concern out of her head—the purists, the future, her scheme to put herself in harm’s way.
Grant didn’t rise or seek to join them immediately. Sebastian worried that he’d reject his attempt to put off a conversation that was long overdue.
Finally, after a few minutes, Grant stood, reached out and pulled Elyse to him for his own hungry kiss.
Sebastian fell back only a step, not willing to give them more room than that. They’d had no trouble forging a solid physical relationship. Personal space vanished whenever they came together.
Grant released Elyse, his gaze finding Sebastian. For a moment, Sebastian saw something unnerving in his friend’s face. It almost felt as if Grant had looked deep and found the deception. “Elyse is right. Time’s running out.”
His words confirmed Sebastian’s fear. While Elyse knew something was wrong, she hadn’t figured out what. Grant seemed to know they were hitting the end of the road.
Sebastian nodded. “I know.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
There was something very comforting about the way Grant said we. Since the binding ceremony, Sebastian had felt terribly alone in this triad. Torn between loyalty to Juliette and the love he’d come to feel for these two people.
“We flip the hourglass over and keep going.” Sebastian reached for Grant and kissed him. While they’d kissed nightly, Sebastian hadn’t been able to cross the line he’d drawn between them that very first night they were together.
Grant gripped Sebastian’s head, holding him close as their kiss became almost brutal with the needs burning between them. Grant pulled away first. He hadn’t pushed Sebastian, respecting his request for time to think. Apart from the kissing and touching, they hadn’t gone any farther down the path toward becoming true lovers.