Dangerous Relations

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Dangerous Relations Page 22

by Marilyn Levinson


  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  "You thought what?" Ardin glared up at Brett while her insides sizzled with outrage. "We can get around the problem of custody by marrying? That's supposed to give Leonie a secure home?" She pounded her thighs with her fists. "What's secure about a marriage of convenience?"

  His wide-eyed shocked expression told her he'd thought she'd welcome his stupid idea with open arms. His trying to make her see the reasonableness of his plan only made it worse. "I figured that since neither of us plans to marry again, why not marry each other? It's not as though we don't get along."

  She was too hurt by his callousness to respond.

  "Leonie would have a home with two people who love her," he went on, clearly mistaking her silence for reconsideration. "You could still work in Manhattan, maybe cut it down to fewer, longer workdays, and spend long weekends with us here. Of course we'll get a nanny or a housekeeper."

  "Enough!" she shouted, and leaped to her feet.

  He shut up and stared. Ardin almost smiled at his expression of total shock. He didn't know she could shout. Probably never imagined she could rise to a rousing fury. Well, she damn well did when someone insulted her, and was too dumb not to realize he was ripping her heart to shreds.

  It took all her will power to clamp down on her wildfire feelings. She needed to draw on her cool rationality--the trait that made her a good attorney--and bring this unfortunate period of her life to a speedy end.

  "Brett, I won't marry you under those circumstances." She felt her cheeks heat and feared she was giving the wrong impression, that she'd marry him under other circumstances, which was ridiculous, especially since he'd made it painfully clear that love had no part in this arrangement. "I mean, I don't intend to ever marry, and I can't marry you, not even for Leonie."

  He started to speak, but she held up her hand.

  "I've made a decision, too. I'm not going to dispute the issue of custody." She swallowed as she forced herself to continue. "You're right. Leonie belongs with you. I'll write a letter of recommendation to the judge, telling him I think you'll make a wonderful father. That you are a wonderful father."

  The wind went out of him. "And you make her a wonderful mother."

  "I've thought it over, and I don't think I can cope," she lied. "It's better this way. Less complicated."

  To her astonishment, her words seemed to infuriate him. He stepped closer, nostrils flaring, green eyes flashing.

  "What's the matter, Ardin? Afraid to take us on as a steady diet? Scared we'll pen you in? Ruin your career? Hell, spend all five workdays in Manhattan if you like!"

  His nearness frightened and excited her at the same time. She sighed and breathed in his breath.

  "Brett, it won't work. People don't marry for the sake of a child. Besides, I just can't, okay?"

  He smacked the night table, sending her hairbrush flying to the floor. "Damn it! You claim you're free of Corey, but you're still letting him ruin your life."

  She flinched. "I can't help it. Besides, you have a temper."

  "You're damn right I have a temper. But don't you know I'd never hurt you? Don't you know anything about me by now?"

  "Did you know Suziette had black and blue marks on her arms ten days before she was killed?"

  Why did she say that? She hadn't known she'd harbored this final doubt, hadn't meant to throw it in his face. Not now, when everything was drawing to a close.

  His eyes filled with sadness before they turned to emerald marbles. When he spoke, his tone was sardonic. "You're right, Ardin. You shouldn't marry a man who might have hurt your cousin." He raised his eyebrows. "Murdered her, for all you know."

  "But I don't--"

  He spun around and left the room.

  * * * *

  Ardin spent a sleepless night wondering if she should apologize, leave the house, or--for one brief moment--tell Brett she'd go along with his scheme. As the sun rose, she fell into a fitful sleep, still undecided on her plan of action.

  It was almost eleven o'clock when she awoke. Feeling guilty for having overslept, she quickly dressed and went downstairs.

  Leonie was watching cartoons in the family room. "Daddy's in his workroom," she told Ardin.

  Ardin kissed the top of her head and, though she felt awkward, decided to go down to the basement. As long as she lived in Brett's house, she'd remain cordial and not go out of her way to avoid him.

  Brett was varnishing one of the walls of the playhouse. He glanced up as she approached. "I left you some coffee," he said by way of a greeting, "but it's probably tar by now. I'd make some fresh if I were you."

  "I will." When he made no answer, she babbled on. "Today's the big day. Shouldn't you be getting ready for the opening of the mall?"

  "I'm well aware of the time."

  "Oh." Chastened, she turned to leave.

  "Would you mind bringing Leonie to the opening ceremonies? They're having entertainment for the kids. I told her she could come, but I'll be up front with the officials."

  "Of course I'll bring her." Ardin said.

  "Thanks." Brett returned to his varnishing.

  Dismissed, Ardin climbed the stairs.

  * * * *

  She was surprised by the size of the crowd that had gathered to celebrate the opening of the strip mall. A band played, and magicians and balloon-twisting entertainers amused the children. During the speeches, she beamed with pride when the president of the mall praised Brett and his construction company for their fine workmanship and for completing it on time.

  Afterward, Brett joined Ardin, Leonie, and the Presleys, who invited them back to their house.

  "Okay with me," Brett said. "Ardin?"

  "Sure," she said. "Thanks." It was better than sitting at home staring daggers at each other.

  They brought in pizzas for an early dinner, and ate them in the black-and-white art deco dining room. The little girls ran off to the family room to watch a video.

  "The town's growing nicely along with the twenty-first century," Bill commented.

  "There's talk of putting in a multiplex movie theatre that will include foreign and indie films," Vivie said. She winked at Ardin. "Are we cosmopolitan enough for you or what?"

  "I admit Thornedale's not the hick town it used to be."

  Bill shot her a knowing glance. "The town's changed in more ways than one."

  "Right," she agreed. It was true. The Thornedale she'd been living in these past six weeks was nothing like the town of her childhood memories.

  It rained on Sunday. Although she'd have rather stayed home, Ardin went with Brett and Leonie to a silly movie in the next town's Cineplex. The theater was packed with the under-eight crowd and their parents. Each time Leonie tugged at her arm to make sure she'd seen "the fun part" was a knife thrust to her heart. How she was going to miss this adorable, warmhearted child she had come to love.

  Brett said little during the day. Ardin knew her angry rejection of his plan had hurt his pride, and he'd retreated to a safe place deep inside. No doubt, he was waiting for her to leave, but was too polite to send her on her way.

  Monday morning, she helped Leonie decide which outfit to wear to school, and followed her downstairs to prepare breakfast. Brett was gone. She found his note on the counter. He'd left for some business meetings and would return later.

  She missed him. God, how she missed him, even when he was cold and angry, and barely speaking to her. After watching Leonie eat her cereal, she waited outside with her until the bus arrived. And then she was alone. The day yawned before her like an endless cave.

  She forced herself to view her situation in as clear and rational a manner as she would a legal case. She was Leonie's temporary guardian, which meant she couldn't simply take off and return to Manhattan without appearing before Judge Dawson.

  What if he wouldn't let her go? She felt a mounting sense of panic. It wasn't likely, but it was a possibility. Her decision to step out of the adoption proceedings had no effect on the five-mont
h delay.

  Unless they could identity Leonie's biological father.

  Ardin gave a snort. She knew damn well who that was. The question was how could she force Corey to own up to the fact?

  She grinned as the answer appeared in a brilliant flash of inspiration. She'd talk to Frank. He and Corey were estranged, probably over some minor issue, but they were father and son.

  Besides, Frank had a soft spot for Leonie, and Suziette had been his employee. He'd want to help settle the matter of Leonie's adoption, once Ardin explained it was for Leonie's sake, and she and Brett would keep Corey's secret.

  She looked up his office number and dialed. A nasal voice asked her to hold, and she was disconnected. She called back, gave her name, and asked to speak to Frank. She waited a few minutes until Frank got on the line.

  "Hello, Frank. I'd like to speak to you. It's important."

  There was a pause, and then he said, "I see. Do you mind telling me what it's about?"

  It was her turn to pause. If she said Corey, he might misunderstand and tell her she'd be better off keeping away from her ex-husband. "It's about Leonie," she said instead.

  "Leonie?"

  "Yes." She hesitated before adding, "It concerns her future as well as her past."

  "Hmm. I've a very busy day, Ardin, but if you stop by here--let's say around six-fifteen--I'll be free for a little chat."

  * * * *

  It was close to three-thirty and Brett was starving. He never should have scheduled the meetings back-to-back. The first had started late and proved to be a waste of his time. The second finished up ten minutes ago.

  He'd downed gallons of coffee as plans and numbers bounced back and forth. But the upshot was his company's bid had been accepted. As soon as their lawyer went over the paperwork, he and his crew would start work on the new mall in Cliffendale, probably next month.

  He knew he should be glad to have found something so quickly after the condo deal had soured, but he felt hollow inside. Cheer up, he told himself as he drove south to Thornedale. You've got work. Looks like you'll be getting Leonie. Things are finally going your way.

  But things weren't going his way. At least, not where women were concerned. He'd sure screwed up last night, transforming Ardin into some kind of wildcat.

  In spite of the rotor blades churning up his gut, he grinned. Those blazing gray eyes had turned awesome, practically shooting sparks, because she hadn't gone for his marriage proposal.

  In the light of day, he had to agree with her. A marriage in name only was a stupid idea, especially for two people passionately drawn to each other like two magnets. Ardin would be leaving soon, leaving him forever. But that was what she wanted. He wouldn't try to stop her, either. He was tired of chasing after impossible dreams.

  Suziette had been an impossible dream that had turned into a nightmare. Still, she'd been his wife, and he owed it to her to find her murderer. And to be honest, he needed closure. It was the only way he could get on with his life.

  He turned off the parkway at the Thornedale exit and headed for the diner. When he entered, he waved back to three or four people who greeted him, and sat down at the counter. As he ate his late lunch of turkey on rye, he considered his options. Another round with Corey was a waste of time. But he could talk to Marshall Crewe, and try to find out why Suziette had his phone number in her raincoat.

  He was getting up to pay his bill when his cell phone rang.

  "Hi, Brett, it's me."

  "Ardin!" The unexpected pleasure of hearing her voice made him smile.

  "Will you be home in time to meet Leonie's bus?"

  He looked at his watch. "Actually, I was planning--"

  "I thought you might be tied up. I've asked Vivie if Leonie could go home with Michelle, and she's invited her to supper."

  "Damn it, Ardin, soon Leonie will think her last name is Presley. And where are you off to?" The click told him she'd disconnected.

  He paced Marshall Crewe's outer office for close to an hour, waiting for the lawyer to complete whatever business he was conducting. At last the secretary ushered him in. Crewe leaned over to shake his hand. Brett gave it reluctantly. The man was as scummy as he remembered him.

  "Sorry you won't be part of the condo deal. We start clearing ground June first."

  Despite his best intentions, Brett glared at him. "It's not what your aunt had in mind for the property, and you damn well know it."

  Behind his desk, Marshall Crewe pulled a look of concern as phony as a three dollar bill. "I'm afraid Aunt Rennie is past caring how the property is used. She signed the necessary papers yesterday in the hospital." He sighed loudly. "We're braced for the bad news; it can come any minute now."

  Brett gritted his teeth, determined not to ruin everything by telling Crewe just what an SOB he was. Instead, he said, "I was wondering if you could help me with something else."

  Marshall Crewe's small eyes lit up. "About a legal matter?"

  "It's about Suziette. I found your phone number in her raincoat, and was wondering why she'd have it."

  A frightened expression flit over Crewe's fat face before he smoothed it away. "Could be she wanted some legal advice. That's what I told Detective Rabe."

  Brett placed his hands on the desk, and leaned forward until his face was inches from Crewe's. "Cut the bull. Suziette called you. I want to know why."

  "She didn't. I swear."

  Brett leaned an inch closer, forcing Crewe to pull back in his chair. "Did she have something over you? Were you paying her off?"

  Marshall Crewe shook his head. "Are you crazy? I hardly knew your wife. I only saw her when I went to Frank's office." He covered his mouth, as if he'd said too much.

  Brett stared into the small, set-together eyes until they turned away. His gut told him Marshall Crewe was involved in Suziette's murder, somehow or other.

  "I'll be back," he tossed over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

  He wished Ardin had come with him. She'd have known what else to ask Crewe. They had no future together, but they were united in their desire to find Suziette's murderer.

  * * * *

  Ardin took a long walk through town until ten after six. She refused to sit in Frank's waiting room while he saw to last minute work details. She wanted his undivided attention when she persuaded him to convince Corey to submit to a blood test so Leonie's adoption could be finalized and she could go on her way.

  The parking area was empty save for two or three cars. Ardin pulled into a spot facing the three-story brick building. MacAllister Enterprises were in Suite 301. She rode the elevator to the top floor.

  The reception area was tastefully decorated in shades of purple and gray. She sat down and was about to reach for a magazine when Frank appeared.

  "Hello, Ardin." He kissed her cheek and guided her through a door that led to his inner office.

  It was more like a sitting room, with dove-gray sofas forming a right angle beneath corner windows. The shades were drawn, even though the sun would not set for another half hour. Abstract oil paintings hung on two of the walls. Beneath the larger picture, three Chinese ceramic bowls adorned a narrow table. They appeared to be antiques and very expensive.

  Frank went to the one bare wall and pressed a button. A panel slid open, revealing a bar. "Can I get you a drink?"

  "No, thanks." She sat on one of the sofas and wondered where to begin. How was she to present her case without offending Frank's arrogant sense of pride?

  He poured himself a healthy shot of Scotch, gulped it down, and turned to face her. "Finally."

  His smile of pure malice sent a chill down her spine. "Finally what?" She hated the tremor in her voice.

  He put down the empty glass and walked slowly toward her. "You know, Ardin. I've been waiting for you to come talk to me about Leonie ever since Suziette died."

  "Why on earth...?"

  Frank pulled out a small pistol and pointed it at her. "I know you want your share of the goodies.
But with all your degrees, you're no smarter than your cousin."

  A pistol! Frank had gone berserk. Ardin fought to control her mounting terror. "Let me explain. I want to talk to you about Corey."

  "Liar. I know why you're here."

  Terrified now, her only hope was to calm him and get him to see reason. If he could still see reason.

  "You're the only person who can help us. You're the only person Corey will--"

  He leaned close enough for her to smell scotch on his breath. "The smart thing would be to turn over the tape."

  "I don't have any tape."

  "Of course you do." Frank slapped her.

  She whimpered as she fell back against the cushions. Quickly, she righted herself. I have to stay strong. She drew a breath to quell her rising panic. They were speaking at cross-purposes. She had to make him understand why she'd come. "I swear, Frank, I came to talk about Leonie."

  "And about the recording Suziette made. I know you have it."

  When he raised a hand to strike her again, Ardin ducked and slid to the other end of the sofa. Nothing Frank said made any sense.

  She took a deep breath, hoping if she explained everything, he'd let her go. "Brett and I are pretty sure Corey is Leonie's biological father. We both want to adopt Leonie, but the judge is dragging out the matter unless we can ID her natural father. If you can convince Corey to take a blood test, we promise to keep the results quiet. We only want to settle--"

  Frank roared with laughter. He doubled over, holding his belly.

  The gun was still in his hand. The hand against his belly.

  She saw her chance and took it.

  She was halfway to the closed door when he yelled, "Stop!"

  She froze.

  "Sit down or I'll shoot you here and now!"

  Terrified, Ardin returned to the sofa on trembling legs.

  Frank was still chuckling, but the hand that held the pistol was steady. If he shot her now, he wouldn't miss.

  "What a pair of losers! I told Suziette she'd regret marrying Waterstone, and boy did she ever. Corey had a fit over it." He chuckled again. "Almost as big a fit as when he found out about Suziette and me."

 

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