Intimate Betrayal

by Donna Hill

  “Please, Carmen. It’s me, Victoria. I need to speak with Max. It’s urgent.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Davenport,” she replied curtly. “He’s busy.”

  “Would you at least try?”

  Carmen sighed heavily into the phone. “Hold, please.” She buzzed Max and was immediately informed that she was not to put any calls through from Victoria no matter what she said. “And don’t bother to take any messages,” he added.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Davenport. Mr. Knight informed me not to put any of your calls through. Good day.” Carmen broke the connection, thoroughly pleased.

  “But Carmen… You don’t…” The dial tone hummed in her ear.

  Dejected, Victoria hung up the phone, looked around, and got back into her car. She had to find a way to reach Max. She pulled out into the right lane of traffic and headed toward her office. But why should she? It was obvious that Max didn’t want to have anything to do with her. She choked back a laugh. What would make her think that he’d forgive and forget that easily? She’d deluded herself into thinking that she’d made some headway with him. But he’d left her believing that they could start over as friends. He’d even kissed her goodbye at the airport.

  Her smooth peaches-and-cream face contorted into a mask of anger. She flipped her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head. Her dazzling green eyes narrowed in fury. The old bitter jealousy stirred within her. Reese. Who else could have convinced him to stay away from her? She could almost laugh to think that Reese might feel threatened by her reappearance in Max’s life. If she helped Max, she might inadvertently help Reese. And there was no earthly reason why she should do that. Reese had never been more than a constant thorn in her side since the day her aunt Celeste informed her of her half sister’s existence.

  Victoria was about ten years old on the spring afternoon that her aunt Celeste had come to her home in Norfolk to visit. Celeste came every month to visit her niece and Victoria always looked forward to spending time with her exquisite aunt who always brought her a toy, a game, or a beautiful outfit from D.C. She always told her wonderful stories about the capital city and the famous political faces that she saw on the street.

  “Why can’t I come and visit you sometime, auntie?” Victoria asked as they strolled along the tree-lined streets toward the park. She looked up at her aunt’s face which vaguely resembled her own.

  “I told you, sweetheart, auntie travels a great deal for the government. I very rarely stay in one place very long. That’s why I always come to see you.”

  Victoria looked down at her polished patent leather shoes. “But why doesn’t my daddy come and see me? Mommy won’t tell me. Will you tell me?” The only constant male figure she had in her life was her uncle Frank, her mother Faith’s older brother. But his visits, too, were rare. His pressure-filled life in the Air Force kept him away. She longed to have a father like her friends in school boasted about.

  Celeste bent down and pulled Victoria into the comfort of her arms. “Oh, sweetheart, your daddy would come more often if he could. But he’s so busy. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, Vicky. He does.”

  “Why can’t I go and see him sometime? I’m not too busy.” Water brimmed in her green eyes.

  Celeste took a deep breath. “Come over here, sweetheart. Let’s sit down. There are some things…that I need to explain to you.”

  Victoria took a seat on the park bench and looked expectantly up into her aunt’s eyes.

  “You’re getting to be a big girl now and you’re a smart girl.” Celeste brushed the strands of reddish blond hair away from her face. “Now I just want you to listen. Your daddy has another family who he lives with.” She took a breath. “And you have a half sister. Her name is Reese. And she’s twelve years old.”

  Victoria’s eyes lit up with delight. “Really?” she squealed. “Can I go and see her?”

  Celeste took Victoria’s hands in hers. “No, darling, I’m afraid not. They don’t know anything about you and they must never know. Vicky, your daddy is married to Reese’s mother. Her name is Sharlene. She’s my sister. And even though he loves your mommy very much he can’t be married to both of them. Your daddy loved your mommy so much that they made you. You are very special, Victoria. You are a gift to your mommy and daddy.” She searched for words. “So special that they want to just keep you to themselves. They don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

  “I’m special?”

  “Yes, darling, very special.”

  “I can’t tell anyone?”

  “No. Never. You are the special secret in your mommy and daddy’s life.”

  The “special secret,” Victoria thought, the rage brewing in her, singeing the corners of her control. She turned into the parking lot and pulled into her reserved space, her breathing expelled in rapid, panting breaths. For several moments, she gripped the steering wheel with such force that her palms began to sting. She shut her eyes and swallowed down the bitter pill of her pain.

  Reese and Lynnette sat curled up on Reese’s couch sipping glasses of iced tea.

  “So how are the headaches and the nightmares?” Lynnette asked.

  Reese shrugged. “They come and go. Unfortunately, a lot more frequently than I’d like.” She stared, momentarily, down into her glass. “Lynn,” she began slowly, “when I woke up this morning, I…I think I remembered something.” She looked across at her friend with uncertainty swimming in her eyes.

  Lynnette sat up straighter in her seat. “What—what was it? Did you see anything?”

  Reese swallowed and closed her eyes, bringing the images to mind. “All I remember is that I see this young girl, which I get a sense is me. But it’s dark and I’m walking down some sort of path with a bag in my hand. When I look ahead, I see a shadow, or a figure, kneeling by a car. I think it’s a man. I feel as though he turns and looks at me, but I can’t quite make out his face. I see myself opening my mouth, but no words are coming out. The figure, or shadow, turns away and then I can’t see anything.”

  Reese expelled a long, shaky breath. “That’s what I remember.” She opened her eyes to look at Lynnette.

  Lynnette frowned. “I don’t know what to make of it, Reese. Did you call your doctor?”

  Reese shook her head. “I haven’t been in touch with any of ‘those’ doctors in a while. They’d probably just prescribe something and send me on my way,” she said, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

  Reese uncurled her legs and put her feet on the floor. “The one thing that sort of scared me was that every time I tried to focus in on the face, I kept getting a picture of Max.”

  Lynnette jerked her head back in response. “Max? That’s weird. It’s probably just transference. Maybe you just have him on your mind.”

  Reese sighed, not totally convinced. She knew it meant something, she just didn’t know what. Then again, Lynn was probably right. She was the one who had a second degree in psychology.

  “Speaking of Max. You haven’t spoken of him since I got here. What’s up?”

  Reluctantly, Reese explained about the scene she’d witnessed the previous afternoon between Maxwell and Victoria and her “interview” with Carmen.

  Lynnette slapped her thigh and laughed. “Girl, you sure know how to use your investigative skills to your advantage.”

  Reese bit back a laugh and looked away.

  “So why haven’t you called him?”

  Reese shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t want to hear whatever lie he’s bound to tell me.”

  “Why are you so sure he’s going to lie?”

  “You didn’t see them, Lynn. I did.” Her eyes flashed. “Sure, Carmen may think it’s over and Max may even ‘say’ it’s over. But it sure as hell didn’t look like it to me.”

  Lynnette pursed her lips and stared at her friend good and hard. “When was the last time things looked like how they really were? Wake up, girl, and call that man. At least give him the benefit of the doubt. Anything could have b
een happening.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Lynnette pointed an accusing finger. “Afraid, that’s the magic word. You’d prefer to walk around afraid of what you’ve only conjured up in your own head, rather than putting your fears aside and finding out the real deal? Is that what you’re telling me? At the absolute worst, you’ll find out that Maxwell Knight is a real dog and you’d be far better served devoting your time and attention to someone worthy. Or, you’ll discover that what you saw, wasn’t what you thought it was and that Max is just as crazy about you as you are about him.” Lynnette folded her arms beneath her small breasts and concluded her monologue.

  “Well thank you, Ann Landers.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “Seriously, Reese, give the man a break. From everything you told me, he seems to be honest.” She pushed her designer glasses further up her slender nose.

  Reese sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Of course I am.”

  Maxwell continued to work on his new software design without success. His thoughts wouldn’t stay focused. They kept drifting back to the early-morning phone call from Victoria. She had some nerve trying to contact him. What could she possibly have to say at this point?

  He tossed his mechanical pencil to the side and got up from his seat. His jaw clenched as he paced his office. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Where was Reese? Why hadn’t she come into the office?

  He turned toward the phone, intent on calling her at the hotel, when his intercom buzzed.

  “Yes, Carmen?”

  “Reese is on line two.”

  “Thanks.” A slow smile spread across his face as he depressed the red light on the phone.

  “I thought you were an early riser,” he said in greeting.

  “Oh, I’ve been up for quite a while. I’ve been working…and thinking.”

  His guard went up. “I take it you’ve made some progress…in both areas?”

  “You could say that,” she countered, pacing her words.

  “Do you have something on your mind that you want to get off, Reese?”

  “As a matter of fact I do. Let’s start with Victoria Davenport.”

  Chapter 14

  Larry Templeton sat parked directly across the street from Maxwell’s office. He had the perfect spot for seeing everything that came in and out of the building without appearing to do so. So far everything looked fine. If Murphy had anyone out there, they were damned good.

  He took a sip of his coffee and resumed his watch. Life was so strange, he thought. He’d spent most of his life watching and waiting for the perfect moment—waiting for the signal. When he joined the Air Force, he always dreamed of being a fighter pilot like the ones he’d seen on television and in the movies while growing up. He would have never imagined that his skill with high-powered rifles would have led him to the Special Forces unit as a sharpshooter.

  He shook his head in wonder and in sadness. He never thought much of his uncanny marksmanship. It was expected from every red-blooded male in his household, which included five brothers. Hunting was their livelihood, and any man that couldn’t shoot the eyes right out of their prey, couldn’t eat. That was his dad’s rule from the time each of them was old enough to hold a gun.

  For the most part, he was proud of his career. There was only that one blotch—one error—one fatal mistake that had nearly ruined everything he’d worked for. He’d spent the last fifteen years paying penance for something over which he had no control. He still had nightmares. If only he hadn’t dropped his radio and knocked out communications, things would be so different—he would have known. If only the little girl hadn’t walked out into the yard that night. If only… But they were following orders. They were trained to follow orders no matter what.

  Larry shook his head, sweeping away the damning memories. And now, the entire scenario had come full circle. The descendants had taken the places of their predecessors. He couldn’t let anything go wrong. Not this time. James was depending on him, just as he had fifteen years ago. He’d allowed James to take the heat for him then. Not again. He wouldn’t let him down.

  Larry resumed his watch.

  Claudia stared into the bubbly dishwater, mindlessly holding a plate in her hand as she listened to her husband. Her heart ached.

  “You’ve been a good wife, Claudia. Better than I deserved.” James shook his head in regret. “I allowed my work to consume me, consume us. I wouldn’t let myself be a husband to you or a father to my son.”

  She turned away from the sink, dried her hands, and sat down at the table. Her warm brown eyes swept over her husband’s face. “James, we all make choices in this life. I could have chosen to leave. But I didn’t. When I took those wedding vows thirty-five years ago, I meant it when I said ‘for better, for worst…until death do us part.’ I can’t blame you for the direction our marriage went in. I was one of the players. I allowed just as much as you did. I didn’t fight for you, James, the way I should have. I didn’t demand what was mine, which was your love and respect. I allowed you to use me as a doormat. Can I blame you for walking over me?

  “Instead I withdrew into a world of books and social clubs. I shut you out and left Max to fend for himself. Sure I kept a beautiful house, and prepared delicious meals, never complained, and always kept a smile on my face. But my heart, James, was breaking into minuscule pieces day by day and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand.

  “I didn’t have any real friends. At least no one that I could trust with my deepest feelings and fears. Growing up as an only child, you learn to just deal with things on your own. So I did.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Or at least I thought I did. I couldn’t go to my parents and let them know the trouble our marriage was in.” She looked briefly away. “Not after…Maxwell.” James’s stomach knotted, seeing her hurt. “I needed you to love me so much that I was willing to put up with anything, in the hope that one day you would—that you’d forget about—Suki and love me the way—” her voice broke “—you once did.” Hot tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

  “Oh, God, Claudia.” He came around the table and gathered her in his arms. His own tears mixing with hers. “Please, don’t…”

  Vehemently she shook her head. “No, James. It’s been too long. I need to say this. You need to hear this. That morning, when I was out in the garden all I could think about was how long you’d been away in Japan—nearly eighteen months.” She smiled wistfully and wiped her tears away. “I had the last letter you wrote to me in my apron pocket, telling me how much you missed me and you’d be home in six months. I was so busy thinking of all the things we could do together when you returned, I almost didn’t hear the front doorbell.”

  James moved back to his seat as Claudia stood, her eyes transfixed on a place he could never be.

  “I remember it was so hot. I was sweating like crazy and I’d just wiped my forehead with a muddy glove and had dirt streaked across my head.” She smiled at the memory. “I tossed my gloves on the grass and dashed through the house, thinking it was probably the mailman. I pulled the door open…”

  A young, strikingly beautiful Japanese girl stood on the doorstep. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, Claudia guessed. But all she could think about at the moment was her extraordinary ink-black hair that looked as if it must be two feet long. She had it braided and wrapped, layer upon layer atop her head. Claudia, self-consciously, touched her own hair that was damp and matted to her head. The girl had a flawless bronze complexion, devoid of any makeup and the most incredible eyes Claudia had ever seen. And she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why this girl-woman was on her doorstep and carrying what looked to be a baby no less.

  The girl gave a short bow and Claudia had the overwhelming desire to bow back. “Ah, hello, good afternoon. I am Sukihara. I beg your pardon for trouble, but I come from long way to bring baby to you.�
�

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “You are wife of James Knight?”

  Claudia’s heart began to race with dread. Her answer got caught in her throat. She nodded.

  Suki extended her bundle toward Claudia. “This James’s son.”

  Claudia shook her head. She knew it was hot, because sweat was pouring from every crevice of her body. That had to be the reason why she suddenly felt lightheaded. This woman, whoever she was, was lying. She was crazy. “Get away from me with your lies!” She started to shut the door, but the girl pushed the baby forward.

  “No, please, you must listen. I cannot take care of this baby. I not live the life of a mother. You must take him. He will make a wonderful son. He is your husband’s blood.” Suki pushed the light blanket away from the baby’s face and Claudia stared down in stunned disbelief at James’s features.

  With his eyes closed, he could be a miniature of her husband, with the wide, sweeping brows, high cheekbones, and cleft chin. He had his mother’s beautiful complexion and silken hair.

  Surely this was some bizarre mistake. Some miserable joke someone was playing on her. Claudia shut her eyes and ran a hand across her face. She opened her eyes. They were still there—this woman and the baby. It wasn’t a joke, or an apparition. She took several deep breaths, looked down at the baby who’d begun to fret from the incredible heat. Finally reason took hold.

  Claudia stepped aside. “Please—come inside.”

  “W…where did you meet my husband?” Claudia asked as she poured them both tall glasses of iced tea.

  Suki smiled in remembrance. “I meet James almost two years ago. He and friend Larry came to where I work.”

  “Work? You don’t look old enough to work.”

  Suki giggled behind her hand. “I have been working since I was fifteen.”

  “How…how old are you now?”

  “Nineteen,” she answered proudly.

  “Where is it that you work?”