His Deception

by Patricia Rosemoor

“I know how that feels. My mother kept me from my father, too, at first. By the time he knew about me, he had a new family.” She winced as she added, “And his bitch of a wife”—she used the term only because she was trying to identify with him—“made sure that I was always the outsider.”

  “ ‘Outsider’—bullshit! Your old man came for you in his fancy helicopter.”

  “My father might love me, but it’s the way you must have loved Nicole. From a distance.”

  “He wrapped his arms around you. I never got to do that with my little girl. She grew up without knowing who her real father was! I didn’t even know about her until a year ago.”

  Katelyn could only imagine why not. “How did you find out about her in the first place?”

  He laughed. “I spotted her bitch of a mother at a Milwaukee shopping center. I followed her and made it my business to learn the secret she’d been keeping from me for nineteen years. When I found those photos, she tried to lie, but I made her tell the truth.”

  He was obviously deranged. Following the mother? Watching his daughter for months? Waiting for his opportunity? To do what? What had he done in the first place to keep the girl’s mother from telling him about his daughter?

  Trying to keep her panic in check, she kept working her wrists, attempting to loosen the damn tape so she could pull one hand free. Then she would open the door and throw herself out of the car.

  What then?

  “I was going to get to know my Nicole,” he went on. “To have a relationship. To make her love me. And now I will never have that chance.”

  “I’m so sorry”—for him as well as for herself and her father.

  “Your old man has to pay!”

  There was nowhere to run to out here. Few side roads led down toward the lake and the houses overlooking it. No one even seemed to be around. She was on her own, so she kept talking.

  “My father didn’t kill Nicole. The police have the shooter in custody. A man named Gus Pratt killed your daughter and six others. He will pay for those crimes.”

  “Your father owns Hamilton Precision Weapons. He was responsible for manufacturing the assault rifle used to kill my daughter.”

  “That weapon was made to be used by the authorities. It was stolen—”

  “By someone you used to shack up with.” He suddenly turned down a side road that headed north, back toward the lake. “I’ve been watching the news. I know everything that went down.”

  Deflated, she couldn’t think of an argument that would change his mind. And she had the feeling they were nearly to their destination, where he planned to get rid of her. Which meant she needed to keep him talking while she continued trying to free herself.

  “What about Sam Gilbert?” she asked, wanting to know the truth about her bartender’s death. “Why did you kill him?”

  “He caught me trying to jimmy the lock on your door. I was going to be waiting for you when you came home that night, but Gilbert was in the way. Consider him another casualty of the Hamilton name.”

  She got her right wrist free of the adhesive, but the tape was wound so tightly she couldn’t pull her hand out of the loop.

  Frustrated, she said, “But you didn’t kill Sam right away.”

  “I shoved him down the stairs to the basement, then tied him up so I could go back up to your apartment. But you’d gotten home, and then it was too late.”

  Dear Lord, Sam had been trapped down there the night he’d come for his sunglasses? If only she had heard something that would have alerted her, she could have saved him.

  “Then why did you kill him?” she asked as the car jogged off onto a smaller side road that went uphill.

  “He was in the way of getting to you. I thought he might be dead and rotting down there. So in the middle of the night after Wednesday’s shift, I went down to the storage area, where I’d left him. He’d worked himself loose and tried to get away. So he left me with no other choice but to kill him.”

  Her gorge rose. She swallowed hard and asked, “How?”

  “A piece of pipe. Just before dawn, I walked him down to the pier. Bastard was supposed to drift off to the middle of the lake and sink to the bottom! And then you had to go and find him. You just kept spoiling my plans.” In the middle of a stand of trees, he stopped the car and cut the engine. “But not this time.”

  She knew they were near Black Point, the highest point around the lake, and adjacent to the deepest water.

  Radtke got out of the car, and by the time he came around to her side, he had his gun in his hand. He opened the door and motioned with it for her to get out. She stumbled to her feet. Her right hand slid around inside the tape loop, but she simply couldn’t pull it out. If only she could find something sharp to nick the material with, she could rip it open.

  “What are your plans for me?” she asked, already searching for someplace she could run to get away from him.

  He waved the handgun in her face. “After I shoot you, I’ll shove your body off the point. They’ll never find you.”

  She took a frantic look around for an escape route. Woods and more woods. Could she outrun him before he got her close enough to the edge to shove her off it?

  Maybe, if he didn’t have the damn gun…

  Without thinking it through, she feigned a twisted ankle, cried out, and pretended to be off-balance. And then, when Radtke reached out to grab her, she aimed her shoulder at him, hitting him on the right side of his chest as hard as she could. His gun hand jerked and the weapon went flying, landing within feet of the bluff’s edge.

  And she took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as she could.

  “You’re not getting away from me this time, bitch!” he yelled after her.

  Seeing the edge of a massive home through the trees, she headed straight for it. Halfway there, she heard another vehicle screech to a halt somewhere behind her. A glance over her shoulder revealed a truck mere yards from where Radtke was bending over to pick up his gun. She nearly tripped for real this time.

  That was Thorne’s truck!

  He’d come back for her!

  She stopped long enough to regain her breath as she surveyed the scene. Radtke had his gun. And when Thorne left the truck, he was empty-handed. She ran toward him as Radtke raised his weapon, aiming it at the man she loved.

  “Take it easy,” Thorne said, stopping and raising his open hands. “I’m unarmed.”

  “Don’t shoot him, Radtke!” she yelled. “You want me, not Thorne!”

  With that, Radtke whirled toward her, gun hand first.

  As he fired, she dropped to the ground, not because she was hit, but to make herself a smaller target. Thorne lunged forward and slammed into him. The gun went flying, as did both men. She felt something sharp dig into her hip, scooted forward, and reached back for it. Her fingers found something slightly curved, but sharp at its edge. A piece of broken glass, maybe from a beer bottle. She could try using it to cut the tape binding her wrists together.

  Carefully picking it up, she got to her feet and stumbled toward the wrestling men. Thorne was on top, then was quickly overturned. Radtke pummeled him.

  “Just stop this, Radtke!” she screamed. As she approached them, she used the glass edge to pick at the tape around her wrists. “You’ve already lost.”

  Even as the men rolled on the ground trading punches, Katelyn felt the sharp side of the glass catch on the tape. Radtke got to his feet and aimed a kick that caught Thorne in the head, making him go down hard. Frantic now, Katelyn pushed and tugged and twisted that piece of glass until finally the edge of the tape gave way with a whispered rip.

  Radtke was going after his gun.

  Thorne was getting to his knees.

  Katelyn was putting herself between them.

  Radtke’s gun had fallen within feet of the bluff overhanging the lake.

  “Katelyn, get out of the way!” Thorne yelled when Radtke picked up the gun.

  If she did, Radtke would shoot Thorne ins
tead of her. Finally ripping free of the binding, she lunged forward, arms outstretched, and grabbed Radtke’s arm, deflecting it upward and to the side.

  “Let go of the damn gun!” she screeched.

  He stumbled backward, feet dancing toward the vertical drop to the lake, but he wouldn’t give it up.

  “Die, bitch!” he yelled, striking her in the head with his free fist.

  Seeing stars, she went off-balance, got a fast look at Thorne, and realized he wasn’t unarmed, after all. She let go of Radtke’s arm and threw herself at him, knocking him backward in what seemed for a moment like slow motion. But as the motion speeded up, he grabbed her elbow with an iron grip, and she realized his feet were still earthbound at the drop’s edge.

  “If I die, you die with me!” he growled.

  Could she survive a fall from this height?

  Suddenly she felt Thorne grab the back of her pants, jerking her to a stop. She looked down and saw that Radtke still had ahold of her arm, the man the only thing between her and a lot of nothing behind him.

  “Drop the gun if you want to live, Radtke!” Thorne ordered.

  Katelyn realized he was pointing his gun at the other man’s head. “Don’t shoot!” She didn’t want a man killed because of her. She didn’t want Radtke on Thorne’s conscience.

  Perched precariously as they were on the precipice, all three were about to take what would likely be a deadly fall. She grabbed Radtke’s arm as she straightened up and leaned backward, Thorne hauling her closer to him. Radtke dropped his weapon so he could grab her with both hands, but before he could do so, he lost his tenuous footing on the shifting earth and his feet did a dance as they slid out from under him.

  As Radtke’s mouth opened in a silent scream, Thorne reached past Katelyn and grabbed him. “You’re not going to be lucky enough to die!”

  Sliding Katelyn away from him, he used both hands to haul Radtke back onto solid land. The moment his feet hit the earth again, Radtke shoved Thorne in an attempt to get away. It gave Katelyn some real gratification when Thorne punched Radtke so hard that his head nearly spun around. Then he tossed the murderer facedown on the ground and put a knee in his back just as a siren announced the police had arrived.

  —

  Later, when they were alone in Katelyn’s apartment, after they’d given their story and their captive to Detective Cole, Thorne wondered how much longer the détente between the two of them would last. Acting as though everything was normal, she had the café deliver food, and she ate as if she was starving—which she probably was, Thorne thought, considering that she hadn’t eaten earlier.

  “I can hardly believe the nightmare is ended,” she said. “And Radtke is behind bars.”

  “If we can trust the justice system, he’ll get life.”

  “I wonder if they’ll seek life for Aaron, as well.”

  “I doubt it. He’ll get time for stealing that weapon and illegally selling it, but unless the prosecution can prove that he knew what it was going to be used for…”

  “You’re right.”

  Thorne was glad to see her face had regained some of the color it had lost due to the stress of the past few days. She finally put down her fork and sat back in her chair.

  “I’m glad Gerard wasn’t guilty of anything but being nosey.”

  “And of liking you a little too much.” Even though he hadn’t eaten that day either, Thorne simply pushed his full plate away.

  Katelyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m just not hungry.”

  “Really?” She rose and took the dishes from the island to the counter next to the sink. “You look as if you have something on your mind.” She scraped the plates and set them in the sink. “So tell me, Thorne, why did you come back for me?”

  He hesitated a moment before offering the truth. “Justus called to tell me that Radtke was Nicole Dyer’s father. The danger wasn’t over, after all.”

  “I see.” Her expression remained neutral, but there was a slight edge to her voice as she forgot the dishes and concentrated on him. “So, then…it was a work-related decision.”

  “At that moment, yes.”

  That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. It wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. And it was probably his last chance to tell her how he felt about her. If she sent him away, that would be the end of them. He chose his words carefully.

  “Before Justus called, I’d already realized I’d made a mistake in letting you chase me off.” He quickly added, “I know you were angry with me, but—”

  “I wasn’t angry with you.” She moved closer to him. “I was upset because I thought you were ready to move on. You didn’t deny it.”

  “You didn’t make me want to,” he countered, turning on his stool to face her.

  This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He wanted her soft and pliant and ready to hear the loving words he’d been waiting to shower on her. Instead, she was challenging him, making it more difficult for him to get his feelings out in the open.

  “Let’s be clear on this,” she said, practically getting in his face. “We should be clear after the lies that pushed us apart. I. Didn’t. Want. You. To. Go.”

  His pulse surged at her admission. And at the fact that she was practically wedged between his knees. “And I didn’t want to go.”

  “You didn’t want to leave Lake Geneva?”

  “I. Didn’t. Want. To. Leave. You.” This was it. He had to say it now. “I barely got twenty miles out of town before deciding I was a fool and I had to do whatever it took to convince you I care. I’ve had feelings for you from the moment we met, Katelyn Wade. And the more I get to know you, the stronger those feelings grow. God help me, I’m madly in love you.”

  A brilliant smile lit Katelyn’s face. Finally. The smile that had drawn him in when he’d first seen a photograph of her. The smile that had made him love her.

  “I didn’t know if I could ever learn to trust you again,” she said. “But you’ve kept every promise you’ve ever made me. You’re the one who’s come to my rescue time and again, who’s kept me safe and protected me even after I shut you out. Your actions have given me reason to believe in you. Have given me reason to love you, Thorne Hudson.”

  Thorne felt his features shift into some weird, loopy expression that conveyed his happiness.

  Katelyn snuggled against him and lowered her voice. “Now I’d like to request a different kind of action, please. Something more…physical.”

  Starting with a kiss that promised her his complete loyalty and love, Thorne was only too happy to comply.

  Epilogue

  FOUR MONTHS LATER

  “Today’s the day,” Thorne growled into Katelyn’s ear.

  Barely awake, she snorted. “I thought every day was the day.”

  “I didn’t mean to have sex.”

  Astonished, she pulled away from him. “You don’t want to have sex with me?”

  “That’s not what I meant. Today’s the day you’re moving back to Lake Geneva permanently.”

  “Oh, that!”

  Smiling, she threw a leg over him and between his thighs and was rewarded with an instant salute. Mornings seemed to be Thorne’s favorite time. Truthfully, he was ready anytime.

  “Have you changed your mind?” he asked.

  “No!”

  She started to remove her leg, but he was quick to slip a hand over her butt and lock her in place against him. Katelyn laughed and tucked her head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

  She’d never been so happy.

  Having spent the last months going back and forth between Lake Geneva on the weekends and Chicago during the week—Thorne had been working for Justus Nance—she’d had enough time to recover from the nightmare of Donald Radtke. Enough time to grieve for the friend who had died a senseless death. Enough time to realize that she still wanted to hold on to the dream that had almost died with Sam.

/>   “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “For what?” Thorne slid his hand up from her butt to her breast. “I haven’t done anything.” He arched one eyebrow at her as he flicked her nipple into aching need. “Yet.”

  Her pulse fluttering with anticipation, she smiled. “You convinced me not to make any decisions until I’d had time to think everything through.” She was returning to Lake Geneva in time to prepare for the winter holiday madness.

  “And you convinced me to decide what I really want, too.”

  Thorne would be the one commuting back and forth until his security business was up and running in a month or two. Being in Lake Geneva full-time together would be the best Christmas present ever.

  Sighing, she said, “I’m still amazed that you decided to make Lake Geneva your first real home.”

  “Not Lake Geneva.”

  “Wait a minute! You haven’t changed your mind, I hope!”

  “Not Lake Geneva,” he said again. “You. I choose you to be my home. Wherever you want to live.”

  Katelyn’s eyes stung and she blinked away a couple of heartfelt tears. “What is it you told me? Not to judge a person by his words, but by his actions?”

  Pulling her over him, Thorne murmured, “Gladly,” before making love to her in a way that left no doubt they were meant to be together.

  Forever.

  A champagne toast to Sherrill Bodine, who generously opened her Lake Geneva homes to our critique group for writing retreats two or three times a year. My time spent there over two decades gave me a fun, realistic setting for His Deception.

  PHOTO: FIREFLY NIGHTS PHOTOGRAPHY

  With ninety-seven novels and more than seven million books in print, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author PATRICIA ROSEMOOR is fascinated with “dangerous love,” the kind combining romance with danger. She has written various forms of romantic and paranormal romantic thrillers, bringing different mixes of thrills and chills to her stories. Patricia was the recipient of a Golden Heart Award from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers’ Choice and two Career Achievement awards from RT Book Reviews. In her other life, she taught popular fiction and suspense-thriller writing in credit courses at Columbia College Chicago.