by Helen Conrad
“Well, that’s enough shop talk for one evening,” Matt said heartily, rising. “I think it’s time we dressed for dinner. Come along, Vanessa. We’ll see you all later.”
“Yes.” Janet rose, smiling all the way. “It’s been fun.”
They walked side by side down the hall. Matt let out a long sigh as they hit the stairs. “So far, so good,” he said in a low voice. “With very little thanks to you!”
Fury was sizzling along her spine, but she wasn’t ready to let it fly just yet. She waited, not saying a word, until they were behind a locked door, back in the bedroom she’d been sharing with him. Then she whirled, her eyes dark with anger.
“Hey, Mr. Matt Jessup,” she taunted coldly. “Mr. Brazilian oil man. Mr. Geologist. What happened down there?”
“Janet . . .” He tried to reach for her, but she stepped out of his grasp, yanking her hand away from his touch.
“Geologist,” she said scathingly. “Some geologist. I should have had a little more fun with you. I should have brought up a few more terms and definitions for you to stumble all over.” She shook her head, looking at him wonderingly. “You probably think age-dating means going out with older women. You probably think bedrock is what you find in cheap motels.”
“Janet . . .” He gave up trying to touch her and put his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
“Sorry?” She threw up her hands. “For what? The first thing you did when we met was ask me to lie for you. You never pretended to be anything but a conman, did you? I shouldn’t have been so naive. I should have known you’d never tell the truth.”
“Janet!” This time he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pulled her into his arms. She looked up at him, her lower lip trembling, and then avoided him by twisting away, leaning away from him, trying to keep him from seeing her face.
Tears were welling up inside her. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. Setting her jaw, she forced back her tears.
“Janet,” he crooned softly, “listen to me. I never meant to hurt you this way.”
“Everything you’ve ever said to me was a lie,” she whispered hoarsely. “Everything. I don’t even—“ she swallowed hard, but the tears began to break through anyway. “I don’t even know your real name—“ She broke down and let out a sob. He held her tightly to his chest, making wordless noises, stroking her hair.
“Hush,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry, darling.” Gently he pulled her down to sit beside him on the bed. “Let me tell you all about it. Maybe you won’t feel quite so bad once you know the truth.”
Bad. The word hardly described how she felt. Dead inside was more like it. She was filled with a vast, cold nothingness she was sure she would never lose again.
“Now listen to me,” he said, and she placed her head against his chest obediently, because she was too shaken to think of anything else to do. “My real name is Matt, believe it or not. And that was what gave me the idea to pretend to be Matt Jessup.”
Another involuntary sob came up her throat before she could smother it. He drew her closer.
“I’m going to start at the beginning. My name is Matt Carrington. I was born and raised right here in Destiny Bay, but that was long ago and I hadn’t come back for ages.”
She raised her head and stared at him. “You’re a Carrington?” she whispered. Yes! She’d known he looked familiar from the start. Everyone knew who the Carringtons were. She put her head back down and took a deep, shuddering breath, but she listened.
“I went to university down in LA. I had a blow up with my family and haven’t spoken to my two brothers for years. I did espionage work for the government for a few years, then got disgusted with the phoniness of it and left for Hawaii. I had a small measure of success there and bought myself a hotel. Now I have three of them. I never married.”
She drew in another quivering breath. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes were very wide, staring out the window at the distant ocean, listening.
“I came back to LA a few weeks ago to visit my college roommate, Joey Marks. Joey works for his father-in-law, managing the western branch of a small independent insurance company. Joey has had some problems in the past. I’ve had to pull him out of a few scrapes. But he’s always tried so hard. The kid has heart. You would love him. And he was trying hard at the insurance business. And failing badly.”
Her breathing was more normal now. She closed her eyes, listening almost as much to the beating of his heart as to what he had to say.
“When I arrived, I found a broken man. His branch office was about to go under. Too many claims, too many poor decisions. Joey was desperate. The final straw was a claim made by a woman who’d had an accident in the parking lot of a supermarket and would never walk again. Once this claim was paid off, Joey would be forced to go Chapter Eleven. He’d have to close the office and to face his father-in-law—not to mention his wife. When he told me about it, I knew right away I had to do something to help him. And in order to do that, I fell back on that old talent of mine, undercover work.”
Her eyes were open again. His hand caressed her arm, but she jerked it away. He drew his hand back slowly, his face twisted with regret that she didn’t see.
“I started out doing research—everything I could find out about this woman. By now you must have guessed she was Mavis herself. Anyway, what I found was quite enlightening. It seems Mavis has done this a number of times. She’s made her fortune on insurance claims, not rich husbands, as she would like you to believe. And once I found that out, I knew I had a pretty good chance of proving her latest claim invalid.”
“So I did some more research. I found out about Matt Jessup and his wife, Vanessa. It seems he’s quite well known in South America. And when by chance I found out he hadn’t seen Mavis for years at least, perhaps never, I realized that she wouldn’t think twice about a visit from me, claiming to be her long-lost nephew. And it worked.”
Taking a deep breath, she slowly straightened to face him. “Especially when I arrived at an opportune moment to play Vanessa,” she said dully.
“Yes.”
“So there’s no real Vanessa in your life?”
“No.”
“So—is the real Matt Jessup married or divorced?”
“As far as I know, he and his Vanessa are the perfect couple.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And you?”
“I told you, I’ve never married.”
She looked away, feeling like a zombie. “You’ve told me a lot of things,” she murmured. She looked back, her gaze sharpening. “And is Mavis guilty of filing a false claim?”
“I’m certain of it. I’ve found evidence that she’s funneled huge amounts of money to her son, good old Gregory. She obviously needed more for her greedy baby boy.”
Janet’s face didn’t change. “But is she guilty? Was she really hurt in that accident? Will she ever walk again?”
He shrugged slowly. “So far, I haven’t been able to prove that,” he admitted.
She frowned, thinking that over, then turned back to him. “Gregory suspects something.”
Matt felt a lot of his tension drain away. She was taking it well. Maybe things would work out just fine.
“Yes, I know. That’s why we’ve got to work fast. Somehow, we’ve got to prove that she’s faking it.”
Janet noticed the “we,” but she didn’t comment. “Mavis knows too,” she said calmly.
Matt’s head jerked back. “What?”
“Mavis knows. She’s known from the first. I don’t think she ever bought your story of being her nephew at all.”
Matt’s face had gone stone-hard. “What makes you say that?”
“Yesterday, when we were talking in the sitting room, she said some things—like wondering exactly what you were up to—that I didn’t pay too much attention to at the time. But now, I realize that she knows.” She nodded slowly. “She pretends to be a scatterbrain, but in actuality, she’s a sharp old bird.�
�
He rose, swearing savagely under his breath. “I hope you’re wrong,” he said harshly. “Because if she’s on to me, I don’t have a chance in hell of catching her.”
Janet sat very still, watching Matt pace the room. She let her gaze linger on his strong, broad shoulders, on his gentle hands. The love she had for him twisted inside her. Her emotions were tumbled like stones in a wild river, shifting first this way, then that. She needed something to cling to, some sure sense of where they were going.
“If she’s known from the start,” Matt said, stopping in front of her with a frown, “why did she let me in? Why has she played along?”
Janet shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she was so lonely, even a con-man was better than nobody.”
Matt considered that, running a hand through his thick hair. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully. His face brightened. “Listen, I left a digital camera running while we were rafting. Maybe it picked something up while we were gone.”
“A camera?”
“I hid it in the flowers at the end of the hallway.”
“To catch her walking?”
“To catch her doing anything not consistent with the injury she claims to have.”
Janet shook her head, her eyes huge and forlorn. “I don’t know how you can be so ... so underhanded. She’s so nice. And besides, she must have had a doctor declare her disabled.”
“You can buy doctors, you know,” he said gently. He came close, taking her chin in his hand. “Janet, please understand. I’m doing this for Joey. Mavis is the crook. Not me.”
“I understand.” She met his gaze bravely. “I understand that you have to do what you can for your friend. I even admire you for that. And I understand that Mavis can’t be allowed to continue to do these things.” She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, her voice was low and rough. “But I can’t understand why you had to lie to me. Why you had to keep the lie going for so long, even after . . . even after we were together . . .” Tears were threatening again. She bit them back fiercely, raising her chin high as she glared at him. “You ask me to trust you, but you didn’t trust me from the first. I can’t understand that. And I can’t forgive it either.”
“Janet . . .”
“I told you this afternoon that trust was very important to me,” she said, her voice stronger. “I still feel that way. And I don’t think I could ever trust you, Matt. Not after all you’ve done.”
He winced as though she’d slapped him across the face. He wanted to tell her about Cecile, about how afraid he’d been of losing her, of his hopes and fears and everything that moved him. But he couldn’t find the words. Besides, it probably wasn’t the time for it.
“Janet,” he said, his voice rough with pain, “don’t say things like that yet. Wait a bit. Let it all soak in. Don’t cut me out of your life. Not yet.”
He pulled her up, kissing her urgently, and she responded, tears trembling on her eyelids. He tasted sweet, hot, irresistible. But she knew it was no use.
“Wait here,” he told her. “I’ll go check that camera. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She stood still until he’d left the room. The moment the door closed, she began to pull off her clothes, rummaging for the jeans and sweater she’d first come in. She slipped them on and then hesitated, looking at the cat box with the air holes sitting in the corner where it had stayed since two nights earlier, when Matt had discovered her behind his drapes.
The thought of Alexander brought new tears to her eyes, but she shook them off angrily. She couldn’t get Alexander now. She would have to think of something when she got home. Picking up the box, she walked quickly to the door, listening for the sound of someone on the stairs.
There was no evidence of anyone. Walking quietly, she hurried down, almost running through the living room, heading for the big front door. She’d almost made it when a voice boomed out from behind.
“Hey, little lady, where do you think you’re going with that?”
She whirled to find Gregory coming toward her. It took her a moment to realize he was suspicious-- of her cat box.
She held it up. “Oh, this is only an empty box,” she said brightly. “I thought I’d stick it out in the garage.”
His dark face was unbelieving. “Let me see that,” he demanded. A whiff of his breath told her that he’d been drinking something other than coffee for the last half hour. “For all I know, the two of you have been robbing my mother blind for the last few days.”
He grabbed the box from her, grunting when he found out she’d been telling the truth. But instead of handing it back as she expected, he threw it to the ground and turned on her aggressively.
“Your husband’s a slick operator,” he told her. “But you ... I bet you’d break under pressure.” He took hold of her arm with his rough hand. “Wouldn’t you, honey? I bet you’d spill the beans and tell me all about what my cousin is up to, with just a little of the right kind of encouragement. Now, what about it, huh?”
“Let go of me,” she demanded angrily, trying to pull away.
But the man was big and strong and, right now, slightly intoxicated. His other hand lashed out and took her by the throat, backing her up against the wall of the entryway.
“Come on, little lady,” he growled, his face contorted and ugly. “Let’s have it. What’s he up to?”
He jammed her hard against the wall, his hand pressing on her throat, his huge body towering over her. The room swam before her eyes and she was sure she was going to pass out. Her fingers clawed at him, but he seemed oblivious.
“Come on, little bird.” He was grinning, clearly enjoying roughing her up. “Sing for me. What’s he here for?”
She tried to speak but nothing came out. He loosened his hand, and she managed to cry hoarsely, “Let me go!” before his hand clamped back down again. His grin faded.
“You’re asking for it,” he said in a low, harsh voice.
She closed her eyes, certain she was doomed. She tried to struggle, but he was just too strong. There was nothing she could do.
“Gregory!” Mavis’s voice rang through the entry-way and Janet slumped with relief. “You let Vanessa go this instant!”
But Gregory didn’t loosen his hold. “In a minute, Mother,” he said coldly. “After she talks.”
“Now!”
Gregory looked at his mother and Janet did too, desperately struggling for breath.
“Get out of here, Mother,” Gregory snarled. “I don’t need your bleeding-heart kindness right now. I’ve got work to do, protecting both of us.”
Janet could see Mavis’s anger, see her strain in the wheelchair. Gregory was holding her captive on a raised platform, just in front of the front door. The wheelchair couldn’t climb the steps.
“Gregory!”
Gregory swore, his face contorted and ugly, and he turned away from his mother to concentrate on Janet again. But she was still watching Mavis. Her consciousness was slipping away, but her eyes were on Mavis, her only hope. In one determined movement, Mavis rose out of the wheelchair and came thundering up the steps, grabbing an umbrella from the umbrella stand and raining blows upon the back of her oafish son.
“Mother!” Gregory instantly released Janet. She fell limply to the floor, gasping for breath. “Mother, what the hell are you doing? Get back in that chair.”
The room was spinning, a confusion of sound, light, and color. Janet tried to lift her head, but she was too dizzy and weak. She thought she saw Matt arrive in the doorway, camera in hand. She knew she heard Gregory say, “They’re going to lock us away if we don’t do something,” and then she heard Gloria announce that she’d called the police. She was pretty sure that Mavis was crying. But for some reason, all she could focus on was the empty wheelchair, and the ring of keys that had fallen from it as Mavis had stood up.
“Are you all right?” Matt was bending over her, helping her up. “Janet, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just ... a little . . . tired
.”
“God, I could kill him!”
She felt Matt leave her again, but she kept looking at those keys.
“The police will be here any minute,” someone said.
Janet rose slowly to her feet. The babble of voices hardly penetrated the curious humming in her head. Everyone was talking at once, each one trying to explain or accuse or argue. She paid no attention as she walked straight for the keys, scooped them up, and carried them with her to the stairs.
No one noticed her leave. She felt a bit lightheaded as she climbed the steps, but she was determined and made it up to the third floor. The third key she tried opened the door to Mavis’s room. And there was Alexander.
She ran in, sweeping the huge dark Siamese up in her arms. His purr was all the encouragement she needed.
“Mavis is going to jail,” she whispered to him. “And I need you back.”
She took one quick look around the room. Dark and shadowed, it was filled with books and papers.
“Goodbye, Mavis,” she said, then escaped, tripping down the stairs with her cat clutched against her shoulder.
She made a detour through the house, bypassing the commotion in the entryway. She let herself out the kitchen door and began to run toward her car. Once there, she set Alexander down carefully in the backseat. He’d been in there before, and settled down right away, as though he knew this was his trip home. The car started beautifully. In another moment, she and her cat were sailing down the highway, leaving Matt and Mavis and all that deceit and confusion behind them forever.
A few minutes down the road, she passed a police car going up. She waved, but they didn’t notice.
“Good luck, people,” she murmured. “Nice to have known you. Sort of.”
CHAPTER TEN:
All I Need Is You
Matt was just finishing up a huge, delicious breakfast at Mickey’s On the Bay. He looked out at the fishing boats that were heading out to sea. He’d spent the last week in Hawaii, and now he was back. Mickey had promised to put him in touch with her friend Robert Harding, the finance guy, and she had been true to her word. Today, he was going to look at a couple of hotels that were up for sale.