The Inheritance Part V

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The Inheritance Part V Page 1

by Mayfield, Olivia




  The Inheritance

  Part V

  Olivia Mayfield

  INTERMIX BOOKS, NEW YORK

  INTERMIX BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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  A Penguin Random House Company

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  THE INHERITANCE PART V: THE CONFRONTATION

  An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  InterMix eBook edition / November 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Rhonda Helms.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

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  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-62606-1

  INTERMIX

  InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group

  and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  About the Author

  The Confrontation

  Chapter 25

  Maggie blinked and stared at Andrew, unsure of what to say. Did she hear him right? “I’m sorry. Did you just—did you say Robert knows something about Cassandra disappearing?”

  He sighed and released her hands, standing to pace the room on the other side of the coffee table. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground. “I need to start from the beginning, okay? After your sister vanished, you left town for college and never came back. And a number of years have passed since then. But I’ve been here the whole time, and I see and hear things about what’s going on. Bay Village is a surprisingly small town.”

  She stared numbly at him, not wanting him to continue but needing to hear what he had to say. Her stomach wouldn’t stop churning, but her limbs felt cold. She rubbed her chilled fingers together.

  “I . . . have heard some rumors on and off about your brother over the years. Things he’s gotten tangled up in involving out-of-control debt.”

  That sounded plausible. The ball of ice in her gut grew larger. “But what does this have to do with Cassandra?” she made herself ask.

  Andrew paused, stared down at her. His eyes were pinched with concern, and a number of other emotions flashed across his face. “Maggie,” he said softly, “when your sister disappeared, everyone reacted in a different way. As you know, you left to make a new life for yourself.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  “Your grandfather became obsessed with finding her, of course. And from what I saw, your parents were divided on what to do, with your dad wanting to keep searching and your mom wanting to let it go. But your brother . . .” Andrew sat back down on the couch and rubbed his furrowed brow. “I was there, watching him spiral down into this really dark place. I wasn’t sure he’d come out of it alive, actually.

  “Robert was always a partier, but after your sister vanished he became worse, drinking all the time, passing out on my couch or in the bar nearly every day. He even got arrested a couple of times for drunk and disorderly conduct. Almost got thrown in jail on the last arrest a few years ago, but an attorney buddy of mine managed to talk the court down to probation and a steep fine.”

  Maggie’s heart lurched, in shock. “What? No one ever told me.”

  Why had her mom and dad never mentioned this? Dealing with her brother’s foolishness on top of her missing sister . . . it must have made things a hundred times worse for them. No wonder their relationship was so strained.

  “I feel so awful,” she said, her throat tightening. She shook her head, swallowed a couple of times in an effort to regain control over her emotions. “I can’t even imagine how my parents made it through all of that.”

  He huffed out a slow sigh through his nose. “I’m sure they wanted you to focus on school instead of agonizing over your brother. You were already stressed about Cassandra. You didn’t need to worry about something else you couldn’t control.”

  She gave a miserable nod. Logically what he said made sense, but the sadness just kept piling on.

  “After your brother narrowly avoided jail, he didn’t quite clean up his act, though he managed to keep it off the legal radar. He . . .” Andrew cleared his throat, regret in his eyes. “Somehow he got caught up in gambling. I went with him a couple of times to a casino in Windsor. We’d play some cards—nothing big at first, just small bets. But eventually that wasn’t enough for him. He got off on the rush of winning big money, despite how much it actually cost him. Soon he was betting on everything, finding bookies wherever he could. Losing money like sand through his fingers and borrowing more from various sources to pay off his debtors. He’s been on a downward spiral like that ever since.”

  So her brother had serious gambling debt. No wonder he was so stretched for money. “Do you know how much he’s in for?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “I did some checking when this whole . . . thing started. Your brother owes well into six figures to a few different bookies. Close to five hundred grand, from last I heard.”

  Shock froze her in place. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Five hundred thousand dollars in debt. Well, ten million dollars from the inheritance sure would help Robert pay all of them off, that much was clear. Then her heart gave a violent pitch beneath her rib cage, and a horrible realization crashed into her mind. She shook her head, too afraid to give voice to her treacherous thought.

  But it snuck into her mind, anyway, in the form of Joel’s bloody, dead face staring blindly at her from inside his smashed-up car.

  No. Her brother was a drunk and a gambler and apparently had no problems using women for whatever means he wanted, but that was too far. He’d never have killed someone out of fear of his own sister winning the inheritance. And she felt terrible for even considering the idea.

  Andrew gave a small, sad nod. “Seems like you’re thinking along the same lines I am.”

  Maggie rose, rubbing her arms to ward off her chill, despite the warm room. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe it. He’d never do that.” Even if he did owe a shitload of money. How desperate was he to win this competition, though? Not desperate enough to resor
t to murder—she refused to even consider that.

  Andrew rubbed his forehead. “At first, I thought all of this was your brother just trying to deal with his grief. Escaping it with booze, gambling.” He paused, gave her an intense stare that made her almost shiver. “But now I think Robert knows something he hasn’t told anyone else. Something about that party.”

  She bit her lip. Maggie had wondered about that too, but she hadn’t known all of this information about her brother. Hadn’t understood that things were that bad for him. Now that Andrew explained everything, the pieces were coming together. Perhaps Robert had drunkenly seen Cassandra having sex with those guys, and the fact that he didn’t know who they were was eating away at his soul. Making him drown his sorrow in drinking and gambling. Anything to take away that helplessness.

  If it had been Maggie, who knew how she’d have handled that guilt? Could she honestly say she’d have been able to keep her shit together, that she wouldn’t have been desperate to purge those dark emotions?

  “Maggie, we need to get him to talk to us, whatever it is.” Andrew’s face was as serious and steeped in concern as she’d seen on him. It made her own heart pinch in response. He was right—whatever the answer was, she wouldn’t know unless they talked to Robert.

  “Why are you telling me all of this, anyway?” She couldn’t help the raw tone in her voice; while it wasn’t aimed at Andrew, he was getting the brunt of her emotions right now. “Isn’t this going to impede your chances of winning?”

  His lips thinned as his face became an inscrutable mask, and he studied her eyes for a moment. Then he stood. “Stay here for a sec,” he ordered, then left the room.

  While he was gone, Maggie drew in several slow breaths, struggling to control her emotions. Yes, her question was a fair one, but she didn’t need to be rude or alienate him, not when they were finally being open for once. She’d asked for his honesty, and he’d given it in spades. She just hadn’t been prepared for what he was telling her. The doubt he’d cast in her about her own blood.

  After another moment, Andrew returned and thrust a letter in her hands. “Read this,” he said, going to stare out the window.

  Maggie licked her dry lips. She recognized her grandfather’s handwriting on the paper, the sure lines of his bold penmanship. Her heart thudded as she read, and she struggled to keep her hands steady.

  Dear Andrew,

  I’m sure you’re confused about why you’re here today. After all, it makes sense that my grandchildren would be involved in my inheritance, and even Bethany, I suppose. But you aren’t a relative, and we haven’t spoken much beyond niceties in quite a while.

  But there is a method to my madness.

  I’ve lived a long time—not long enough, not nearly long enough, because I wanted to achieve so much more in my life. But that is another story, and I am running out of time. Anyway, Andrew, I’ve lived a long time and I trust my gut. You’re a good man. I saw the way you came to Robert’s aid time and again when he fell into his legal messes.

  I saw the love in your eyes for my granddaughter.

  And I know you are tied to our family as surely as if you were our own blood relative.

  So I’m enlisting your help. Cassandra is out there somewhere. She needs you. And I trust you. You are fair; you have a good reputation among the legal community as an honest man. And my Maggie is going to struggle with this search—I know that much. She’s tough, my granddaughter is, but she’s also so fragile, though she hates to admit it.

  Help our family, Andrew. Find Cassandra. I know you’ll do the right thing, the honorable thing. And if you can keep that soft spot in your heart, help Maggie be able to let go of this painful chapter in her life and find happiness again.

  Sincerely,

  Jeffrey

  Maggie’s hand pressed to her mouth before she realized what she was doing, and she let out a surprised gasp. She dropped the letter to her shaky thighs and stared at Andrew’s stiff, proud form.

  “I don’t want any of the money, Maggie,” he said. “Not one penny. I haven’t from the first day. I’m bowing out of the competition, and I’m going to let Mr. Webber know at our next check-in meeting. But I still want to help you find your sister.”

  Showing her the letter, letting her into his life, sharing his thoughts with her—the positive and negative ones . . . Her chest was exploding with rampant emotion right now, making her throat close even tighter.

  Andrew was giving her the ultimate show of trust and faith. He was passing on winning the inheritance so that she could have family closure. Her heart swelled in a massive surge, and she put the letter on the coffee table and stood, hot tears burning in her eyes. It took her a few paces to reach him. With trembling fingers she rested her hand on his upper arm.

  He turned toward her, deep emotion etched in his profile, his eyes filled bright blue. She could feel his muscles bunch under her hand. “I don’t know how else to show you how I feel about you, Maggie.” And now she could see it, all the vulnerability she hadn’t noticed before. The way he’d been opening himself up to her every day, though she’d been too afraid or too blind to accept it.

  Andrew was falling for her too. She wasn’t the only one risking it all here. Maggie gave a silent nod, too choked up to speak any further.

  “I want you to find your sister. I’ve always wanted that. It’s never been about winning for me. Don’t you see?” His eyes were intense, unbelievably so as they bored into hers. She’d never seen such potent power in them before; she was captivated. He stroked a strand of hair away from her face. “Maggie, your brother . . . I think he needs this money. And I think he’ll do anything to get it so he can pay off that debt. But there’s only one way to find out if that’s really what’s eating at him, and that’s for us to make him talk.”

  She thinned her lips, sadness eking into the fringes of her feelings. “Do you think he will?”

  “I don’t know. But we have to try.”

  “Okay.” Whether to prove Andrew wrong . . . or right . . . she did need to talk to Robert. Figure out why he’d kept this gambling secret from her. How deeply he was in it. And how far he’d go to get rid of the debt.

  But would he talk? Would he finally be honest and lay it all on the line?

  Andrew’s hand reached behind her neck, his thumb stroking the base of her hairline, a gesture meant to soothe. Light shivers slid across her skin. It drove away thoughts of the inheritance, of all of her deep-seated sadness, scattering them from her mind.

  She pressed her breasts to his chest, slid her hands up his arms to rest on his muscled shoulders. His skin was warm, the heat seeping from beneath his thin shirt. She’d missed touching him, had craved it like nothing else. Had missed feeling him close to her body.

  Missed the quietness she’d found in her soul because of his soothing presence.

  “It’s been lonely without you around,” he murmured, fixing his gaze on her lips for a moment before glancing back into her eyes again. His pupils had grown larger, and she could see a stuttering pulse at the base of his throat.

  He’d missed her too. The naked longing and vulnerability was apparent in his face, and his sheer honesty, despite having no guarantees of her feelings in return, shattered the last of the walls around her heart.

  Standing on her tiptoes, Maggie brushed her lips against his; she reveled in the hitch of his breath from the simple but potent gesture. He smelled warm and crisp, the light undertones of his skin filling her senses.

  Andrew tilted his head and pressed his mouth to hers, slowly deepening their kiss. His hands slid down to her lower back, his fingers stroking her skin beneath her turtleneck. This wasn’t like their previous kisses, which were all heat and fire and a burst of intensity.

  This was quiet. Resonant. Layered with emotion. Her whole body began to tremble, and her skin tingled from his caresses.

 
She parted her lips and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. Tasting him. Drawing him deeper. Her pulse picked up, throbbed in her lower belly. He was delicious but not close enough.

  His warm hands cupped her face as he drank from her mouth, and her knees nearly buckled from the intimacy of the gesture.

  Andrew pulled back for a moment, eyes hooded, pupils large and dark. Desire pulsed from him in waves. “I need you,” he said, his voice almost raw with emotion.

  Her breath became ragged in response to his yearning. “I need you too,” she managed to say. This man had gotten under her skin again, had made that seed of teenaged love blossom into something deeper and more resonant.

  And she knew, beyond any doubt. She was falling for him again, tumbling headfirst into love, and there was no way to stop this from happening. And right now, she didn’t want to.

  Andrew took her hand and led her back to his bedroom. Her body vibrated, hummed with anticipation of what was to come. Not just the sexual pleasure, but finding him again, feeling him deep inside her, so deep they were one person. Despite the years and distance, they’d found each other again, and she craved him.

  The curtains were drawn so the room wasn’t bright, but light slivered through the center part, slashed on the floor.

  Andrew kept his gaze fixed on hers as he stroked his fingers along the soft curve of her belly. He was all intensity and power, wrapped in a lean package, and she couldn’t help the delicious shiver that skittered across her. He drew her shirt over her head, and then his gaze dropped to the curved mounds of her breasts.

  “I want to taste every square inch of your body,” he said. The words were simple, but the fire lighting his eyes made her core give a tight, almost painful squeeze.

  Anticipation.

  And God, did she want to taste him too.

  He moved close, brushed his lips along that sensitive part under her ear, and she sighed. His mouth was soft, warm. His fingers stroked the flesh under her jeans, and then they were down her legs, with her kicking them off.

 

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