A Just Deception

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A Just Deception Page 22

by Adrienne Giordano


  Peter sat back, drummed his fingers on the scarred desk. This could work. “We’ll drive into Cannonsville tomorrow. Call me after Seth goes into the restaurant. I’ll send Billy in there for some takeout so he can see who Seth is with.”

  Izzy’s moan floated over the phone line. “I don’t know. What if Seth sees you and then you show up here the next day?”

  “Seth isn’t going to see me. I’m going to wait out of sight and Billy will go into the restaurant. Once he gets a visual, we wait for the person to leave, and we follow them. I want to know what kind of business this guy is doing.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The next morning, after a fitful sleep, Isabelle waited on the bottom step of the front porch for Seth to pull his car around.

  The lunch was an hour away. That meant two hours of being alone with Seth. Not something she relished after he’d dragged his hand over her ass at breakfast that morning.

  The man was ratcheting up his mating signals. This flirting tactic of hers had to be dealt with carefully. She had to give him just the right amount of encouragement, but not so much that he would think she intended to have sex with him any time soon.

  A fine line.

  Seth pulled his sparkling sedan around front and she got in, grateful she’d purposely worn knee-length shorts that didn’t ride up as she sat. The pink crew neck summer sweater she paired with the shorts gave her an added defense against Seth’s wandering eyes.

  He gave her a once-over and nodded. “Nice sweater.”

  She nearly laughed at his disappointment at not seeing any cleavage, but checked herself. For all she knew, he’d pull off on some deserted road and try to force himself on her. At which time, she’d kick his pathetic ass.

  “Thank you for letting me tag along.”

  Seth smiled and lifted his foot off the brake. Mary Beth appeared on the front porch and he waved to her. She waved back, but her blasting gaze was on Isabelle.

  Yikes.

  “Mary Beth doesn’t like me,” she said.

  “She doesn’t like most people. She’s had a tough life. We’re—” Seth stopped, shook his head. “I can’t get used to Kendrick not being part of this anymore. It’s odd. I know you had your differences with him, but he was my partner and friend. He did a lot of good around here.”

  Isabelle found that hard to believe. “I’m sure.” She stared out the window at the sun dappled pasture across the street while her stomach did a quick pitch and roll.

  Seth turned onto the road and hit the gas.

  “Thank you for setting up the meeting with Peter Jessup. I know your influence got their attention. The funding from outside sources is vital to what we do.”

  “That’s how you support this place? Outside funding.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Corporate sponsorships, grants, that sort of thing. In fact, I’d like to take you up on your offer of legal help. Would you read a few sponsorship agreements? I’ve been holding off sending them to our attorney because he’s expensive and I’ve been watching our money.”

  Perhaps this would get her into his office to snoop in his files. “Of course. I can do it today if you’d like.”

  Seth smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “I have the agreements on the computer in my office.”

  The computer. Even better.

  “You know,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the bucket drives you mentioned. Do they provide enough money to help an operation of this size?”

  “The bucket drives are a way for the residents to take some responsibility. They are expected to find work—we help with that—so they can move out on their own, but we expect them to help with fundraising. This grant from the Jessup Foundation would be exceptional. We could do a lot of good with that money.”

  A sliver of guilt sliced her. If this guy were as honest as he played, she’d feel like a first class dope for setting up this ruse about Peter’s visit.

  “Seth, I’m just the messenger when it comes to the Jessups. I sent Peter the application and that’s all. I don’t think I know enough about your organization to vouch for you. I was happy to get the process moving because you’ve been kind to me, but we’re talking about a lot of money. Peter will do his own research. And he will be thorough.”

  Seth glanced at her, his drab hazel eyes intent. “We have nothing to hide.”

  “You have nothing to worry about then.”

  “Does Peter know about your history with Kendrick?”

  The question landed with a thud. What the hell business was it of his? “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not prying—”

  “You don’t think?”

  Seth rolled his eyes and she nearly climbed over and smacked him.

  “I think I have a right to know if Peter Jessup has formed opinions regarding my organization. If you’ve told him about your relationship with Kendrick, he might not look upon us so favorably.”

  Her relationship?

  “Peter is fair. Whatever his thoughts about Kendrick are, he won’t hold them against you.”

  “What exactly is your relationship with Peter Jessup?”

  Where the heck was this going? “Why do you ask?”

  He made a left turn onto another rural road, pulled over and parked. Isabelle swung her head left and right, surveying the surrounding area. No houses, no other cars.

  This is it.

  She wrapped one hand around the door handle, ready to yank it and run. Spotting her grip on the handle, Seth punched a button on his door and the thump of the lock engaging vibrated against her hand. Locked in.

  With her hand still on the door, she turned to him. “Why are we stopping?”

  Seth scooted an inch closer and she backed away while escape scenarios materialized and she readied her free hand for a palm strike. “What are you doing?”

  His gaze dropped to her chest. “I think you’ve noticed I’ve developed an attraction to you, and Peter Jessup is coming to my home. I’d like to know what to expect so I can avoid any complications.”

  Holy cow. He flopped that right onto the table. Complications. This butthead didn’t have a clue. “Peter and I are friends.”

  You jackass.

  He reached a hand toward her breast, a half grin plastered on his face. Don’t let him touch you. With her free hand, she grabbed his wrist and held it. If necessary, she could flick it backward and twist until the pain left him begging for mercy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “We’re never alone. And since you just told me you and Peter are only friends, I thought we could take a few minutes.” His grin widened. “Get better acquainted.”

  Could this guy be any more arrogant? He certainly wasn’t the most handsome guy she’d ever run into, but he carried himself with self-assurance. Like she was a shoo-in. Then again, she’d probably given him every reason to think so.

  She’d have to backpedal. She squeezed his wrist making sure to press her nails into his skin. A low groan came from his throat—the perv liked it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not here in the middle of a road where anyone can come along.” She released him. “I enjoy your company, but next time, ask if you can touch me in an intimate way. That, I insist on.”

  Seth rubbed two fingers over the spot on his wrist where she’d punctured him. “You are a puzzle, Isabelle. I rather enjoy this game of yours.”

  Idiot.

  He shifted front, his challenging stare never leaving hers. “I’ll be sure to ask permission next time.”

  “Probably a wise move,” she said.

  That evening, after loading the last of the dinner plates into the dishwasher, Isabelle straightened to find Mary Beth staring at her. Hard. This woman made Creepy Izzy look like a Girl Scout.

  “What?” Isabelle asked.

  Mary Beth shook her head. “Thank you for helping.”

  That was weird. Still though, nice of her to say. “If I eat, I help clean. Besides, with Rebecca not feeling well and in bed, you needed the extr
a hands.” Unlike Seth who left the cleaning to the womenfolk. Isabelle’s mind wandered back to Peter standing at the kitchen sink the night she had dinner with him and his mother. He didn’t have a problem washing dishes.

  Feeling Mary Beth’s eyes on her, Isabelle folded the dishrag that had been haphazardly thrown on the counter and wiped her hands on her shorts. “I think we’re done here. I promised Seth I would review some papers for him.”

  She’d tossed it out there with nonchalance but, if her plan worked, Mary Beth would wait a few minutes then turn up in the office. With luck, she would pull Seth away and Isabelle could search his office.

  When she got to the stairs, she thought back on Peter’s earlier phone call informing her they’d followed Seth’s lunch date to a maximum security women’s prison an hour away.

  Maybe some of the prisoners, upon their release, came to live at the compound?

  It made sense, in an odd way, but then again, these women must have committed harsh crimes to be in maximum security. She made a mental note to ask Seth about his screening process. Isabelle hoped the prison system reformed people, but the criminal defense attorney in her knew that wasn’t always the case.

  Could one of the released prisoners have been staying at the compound and had a falling out with Kendrick? Could she have killed him?

  Isabelle climbed the stairs to the second floor thinking about the five families with young children living in the cabins on the property. Would Seth put those children in danger by possibly allowing unreformed inmates to come here? She just didn’t know.

  She strode down the hall, past her room and Courtney’s, then Mary Beth’s and her daughter’s rooms. At the end of the hallway, on the left, Seth’s office door was slightly ajar. She rapped twice.

  “Come in,” he called, and she stepped in to find him at his desk writing on a legal pad.

  The office held the same casually elegant decorating style as the rest of the house. The wood trim gleamed and the burgundy walls brought hominess to the room. The desk lamp replaced the fading sunlight streaming through the large window.

  Isabelle sat on one of the black leather chairs in front of the desk and Seth’s eyes locked on her with the anxious hunger of a man needing to get laid. The oily slickness dripped over her and, despite her forced smile, an inward groan traveled down her throat. He was definitely stepping up his aggression.

  “I thought I’d check that paperwork for you,” she said.

  An odd look crossed Seth’s face and his eyes narrowed. What? Did he expect she was coming to have some quiet time with him?

  Not.

  “Oh, right. I forgot.” He swiveled to his computer, grabbed the mouse and began opening files. “I’ll print them for you.”

  “I can read them on-screen if you’d like. Save the cost of paper and a tree.” She fisted a hand in the air. “Go green.”

  Come on, Seth. Go green with me. We’d save the earth and I’d search your computer files.

  He smiled. “Go green. Absolutely.”

  Yes! A rat-a-tat-tat of victory started in her head and Isabelle smiled before moving to the other side of the desk. All she needed was to get him out of the room for a few minutes and she could peruse his hard drive.

  Seth stood and spun the chair for her to sit. “I’ve opened all three files for you. Let me know if you have questions.”

  When she scooted the chair closer to the screen, he plopped his hand low on her shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing the rise of her breast. Hold it, fella. Her instincts took over before her brain could engage and she stiffened against the unwelcome touch. This jerk just loved testing her.

  He snatched his hand away. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

  Sure you did. She breathed deep and thought about her behavior the last few days. She’d been leading him on. Sick as it was, she knew he wanted her, and she’d manipulated it by wearing revealing clothes and prolonging the eye contact. And let’s not forget laughing at his bland jokes.

  Yep. Seth had been reading all those come-hither signals and, after the incident in the car earlier, he was ready to make his move.

  The speed of this process left her needing to back him off before he started to question her motives. He probably already had questions about her visit. She’d explained those away as confusion over her strained relationship with Kendrick and her quest for closure.

  Now though, this man expected her to jump in the sack with him.

  Stall him. She could do it. Sex was a tool she knew the intricacies of.

  “Isabelle?”

  She glanced up at him. “It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to flinch. I should have explained when we were in the car today, but I have issues with people touching me. It stems from my mistrust of people.”

  Ack! Wrong thing to say. Backpedal. “Not that I don’t trust you. I do, but it’s ingrained and totally unfair to people who have been kind to me.”

  Seth’s dull hazel eyes softened, and he folded those wandering hands in front of him. “I’ll be more careful.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Their gazes locked for a long moment. She refused to look away. To waver. Giving in to a man like Seth hadn’t been part of her repertoire for years. He finally broke the eye contact and held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention.”

  My butt, Isabelle thought because she never heard an apology.

  A knock sounded at the door and they both turned to see Mary Beth hovering in the doorway. Finally. Isabelle refrained from blowing out a breath.

  Seth grunted and Isabelle sensed the negative energy swirling around her. Old Mary Beth didn’t disappoint.

  “What is it, Mary Beth?” he asked.

  “Can I see you a minute?”

  “We’re busy.”

  Isabelle spun back to Seth. “I don’t mind. I’ll get started on these agreements.”

  Mary Beth smiled, but it didn’t resemble anything close to happiness. This smile was all about her winning a perceived battle. Knock yourself out, Mary Beth. Just get him out of here for a few minutes.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Isabelle turned to the screen. “I’ll be here.”

  Reading your files.

  The second he hit the doorway she reached for the mouse, quickly opened the file directory and scanned it. One was labeled Org Undr Priv and Isabelle double clicked. Various names popped on the screen in front of her. Nothing on Marshall Correctional Facility.

  Voices from the first floor—Mary Beth’s daughters—drifted up the stairs and Isabelle’s fingers stilled on the mouse. Were they coming up?

  She heard the front door close and the voices went silent. Must have gone outside.

  She clicked on the main directory. Several more folders to review. One marked Business. She clicked on it. Password protected.

  Dammit. What could the password be? Birthday? Someone’s name? On a whim, she tried Rebecca. No dice. Too simple. Seth wasn’t that dumb.

  “Isabelle?”

  She yelped and the sound rattled around inside her brain.

  Caught.

  She turned to see Courtney in the doorway. Deep breath. Slow and deep. Her heart slammed a vicious thump against her ribcage and she pressed her hand over the spot. This 007 stuff wasn’t easy.

  “Startled you, huh?” Courtney said, her lips quirking.

  Isabelle faked a laugh while she closed the directories she’d been scanning. “Holy cow. You scared me.”

  Just then Seth stepped into view. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Isabelle said. “Courtney snuck in and startled me.”

  “I didn’t sneak. I walked.”

  Isabelle laughed again. “Whatever. What’s up, Courtney?”

  “Never mind that,” Seth said, his voice harsh. “Something has come up and I need to go out. You can do this tomorrow, Isabelle. There’s no rush.”

  “Is somethi
ng wrong?” She vacated the desk chair so Seth could shut down the computer.

  He slid her a sideways glance. “Rebecca is not in her room. Her sisters can’t find her and think she’s taken off somewhere.”

  A young, pregnant girl alone in a rural area. Dangerous. “Can I help you search? Courtney and I can go in my car.” And if I find her first, maybe she’ll tell me something.

  Seth finished with the computer. “That would help. Thank you.”

  Ninety-eight minutes later, Isabelle and Courtney returned to the compound after receiving the call from Seth that they’d found Rebecca. Courtney’s normally irreverent mouth had remained firmly shut during the search, and Isabelle was sure the young woman knew something. She’d have to work on that later.

  She strode into the house, heard voices from the kitchen and came to a halting stop when she turned into the room and found Rebecca seated on one of the counter stools, her feet hooked around the top rung, her shoulders stooped and her arms wrapped around her torso. The girl was as closed up as her pregnant body would allow, but Isabelle could still see her shivering.

  What the hell?

  Seth stood to one side while Mary Beth flanked the other. Isabelle stepped forward. “Rebecca, are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Seth said.

  Isabelle ignored him and focused on Rebecca. She shoved the girl’s long hair out of her face. No blood or bruises. At least that she could see. Thoughts of a pregnant girl being beaten slammed into Isabelle and the insidious rage smothered her. She whirled on Seth. “What happened?”

  “This doesn’t concern you.” His voice held the flat, lifeless tone of someone barely tolerating her presence.

  And oh, how she wanted to hurt this man. Just let him have a good, solid palm strike. Because deep down, where her once-healthy soul used to be, Isabelle knew he’d done something to Rebecca. Looking at him now, his total disregard for her or Rebecca, she saw a truly disgusting person.

  “She is shivering, clearly terrified and you want me to mind my own business? I don’t think so.” She reached a hand to Rebecca and slowly, inch by inch, the girl raised her gaze. Isabelle’s pulse hammered. Creepy Izzy eyes. Just dead. Nothing there. This is what Peter sometimes saw.

 

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