Deception

by Carolyn Haines

  “She wouldn’t come.” Renata finally looked at Connor. She smiled slowly. “I tried to warn you. She tried to tell you. Bad things are going to happen to you at Oaklawn.” Renata darted between two older women and disappeared into the interior of the tent.

  “She shouldn’t have done that,” Danny said. He looked at the toe of his shoe. “I’m glad you married Daddy, Connor. I hope nothing happens to you.”

  “Who was in the orchard?”

  Danny looked toward the pecan trees again, then back at Connor. “I couldn’t tell. He was hiding.”

  “He?”

  “I think it was a guy. Anyway, whoever it was was wearing pants and a jacket.”

  “You’re certain it wasn’t your friend from the woods?”

  “She always wears dresses. She says that where she’s from, women don’t wear pants like you do.”

  “Have you seen her lately?”

  Danny shook his head. “No. Renata’s afraid she’s gone away. After what happened in the garden room and all.”

  Connor heard the hubbub of the crowd. She was conscious of people looking at her, watching her talk with Danny. She knelt down, drawing him closer so that she could whisper. “What did happen, Danny? Do you know?”

  “Renata went down to meet Hilla, and she … fell into the pool. I’ve got to go.”

  Connor had to restrain herself from reaching out and grasping Danny’s shoulders. Instead, she watched him rush to Renata’s side. The two of them disappeared behind a heavy woman in a pink suit. All around her there was the buzz of conversation, the clink of glasses and laughter. For one brief moment, Connor was free. She found Clay, just at the edge of the tent, talking with four men. Whatever they were talking about had them enthralled. Connor knew she wouldn’t have another chance before nightfall. Easing backward, she slipped around the tent and ducked behind the first pecan tree. Working quickly from tree to tree, she moved across the orchard.

  She made it to the edge of the woods without anyone seeing her. When she’d seen the figure of the woman in black from her bedroom window, she’d counted fifteen trees from the south side of the orchard. Connor walked until she was in position. The grass was dead beneath her feet, and it was covered with brown pecan leaves. Connor walked slowly, using her feet to push the leaves aside. The woman had dropped a rose. It had been a challenge, like a glove dropped deliberately for a duel. Connor wanted that rose.

  In the distance she could hear the music and chatter of her wedding reception. There was the loud bark of male laughter, followed by several feminine laughs. Step by slow step, Connor worked through the leaves.

  When she saw the rose, she almost didn’t believe it was there. The petals were bruised and blackened where the woman had stepped on it. Proof at last that she’d seen someone. She bent to pick it up. As her fingers closed around the stem, she heard something behind her.

  “Connor!”

  The thorn bit deeply into her thumb as she whirled around to confront Richard Brian. “Richard!”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. I said I wasn’t coming, but then I couldn’t stay away. I think you made a big mistake, but I couldn’t let your wedding pass without being here to wish you a happy future.”

  “You’ve been out here, in the orchard?”

  “The entire time. I heard the vows, and I guess I have to accept the fact that you and Clay are man and wife.” He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “Best wishes, Connor, and forgive me for being such a bore about the wedding.”

  Connor let him hug her. She clutched the flower with her injured hand and tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart. He’d never know how he’d frightened her.

  “Come up to the tent for some champagne,” she managed, as soon as he released her. “Clay will be glad to see you. He was beginning to think I didn’t have any friends. And I have someone I want you to meet. She’s a horse trainer.”

  “The maid of honor in the green dress?”

  “That’s her. Elvie Adams.”

  “I didn’t think I’d seen her before. I guess it was too short notice for the California gang to make it. And your father didn’t make it back from Australia, did he?”

  “I don’t even know if he got the message.” Connor shrugged, determined not to show Richard any of her worries. She’d called him in a dead panic, gotten him all worked up about her safety, and then turned around and married the man she claimed to be afraid of. No, from now on, she wouldn’t involve Richard in her personal problems.

  Richard took her arm. “What are you doing out in the orchard? Your guests are all in the yard.”

  “I needed some time alone. I came …”

  “Out to find part of your bouquet? A bit the worse for wear, isn’t it?” He fingered the rose.

  “I must have stepped on it.”

  “Connor, you’re incredibly beautiful today. Always beautiful, but exceptional today. That dress is perfect, and I can see Clay’s taste in the necklace and rings. The good thing about Clay’s jewelry selections is that he always manages to pick designs that only increase in value.”

  “Richard,” Connor interrupted him, “did you see anyone else in the orchard?”

  “Nary a soul. I was here by myself, listening to the ceremony and kicking myself once again for letting you get away from me.”

  With Richard’s hand on her arm, they walked back to the reception.

  “Connor!” Clay called, motioning them over to a group of men and women. “Richard! Thank goodness you decided to attend. Connor was afraid you were upset with her hasty decision to marry.”

  “And I was,” Richard said, smiling. “As a confirmed bachelor, I’m always disturbed when someone decides to enter the baleful ties of matrimony.”

  While they were talking, Connor signaled Elvie over. She made the introductions and then watched, amused, as the two fell into immediate conversation. Richard would be a fun person for her new friend to know.

  “Connor, I want to introduce you to some friends.” Clay took her elbow and led her away. Connor winked at Elvie as she departed. The amiable chatter continued as Clay introduced Connor to several lawyers and their wives.

  “Have you given any thought to the way you’re going to redecorate Oaklawn?” Amanda Frost asked. “You’ve been living here for months. You must have a million ideas about how you’re going to change the place.”

  Connor looked helplessly at Clay. He rolled his eyes. “Well, actually, I’ve been thinking more about the barn,” Connor said, smiling. Her remark had the desired reaction—shock.

  Amanda shot a glance at a tall brunette. “You should talk with Carol, then. She’s just started a very small, exclusive decorating business. Not really a business, just consultation. Our husbands don’t really care for us to work, but we like to have some creative outlets. Carol has a way with fabrics and old houses, and she works with Midgie Denton, who helped Talla with some of her renovations. Why, the only room in that house, if you’ll excuse me for saying so, Clay, with any personality, was that room Tallulah refurbished.”

  “She did a little more than refurbish it,” Clay said evenly. “It was a sewing room. Now it looks like it belongs in a hacienda in the Southwest.”

  “Men just hate change,” Amanda said, resting her hand lightly on Clay’s arm. “Connor, honey, why don’t you take us in the house? I’m sure Carol would like to see what kind of potential it has.”

  “Today is Connor’s wedding day,” Clay said as he clamped his hand over Amanda’s. “Perhaps another time.”

  “No better time for Connor to start spending all that money you make,” Amanda said, sliding her hand out from under his. “What about it, Connor?”

  Connor gave Clay a lopsided smile. “I don’t mind.” She turned to Amanda and the tall brunette. “I want to tell you, though, that I hadn’t considered changing Oaklawn at all. Maybe it’s because I’m not from the South, but I find the house charming. The furniture is beautiful, and so old.”

  “Oh,
after a year or two, you’ll want a change.” Amanda took Connor’s hand and pulled her toward the front of the house. “We don’t want to stand around and talk to these stuffy old men, anyway. Legal rulings, precedents, judicial opinions.” She wrinkled her nose at Clay and her husband. “Such tedious subjects!”

  Her bright laughter mingled with the men’s as she led Connor and Carol around the corner of the house.

  Connor watched with amusement at the vague distaste Carol displayed as she walked around the first floor of the house. Not even the library drew a smile of approval. Connor skipped the master bedroom, but opened the door to the garden room at Amanda’s urging.

  “This is the room I was talking about,” Amanda said excitedly. “Tallulah was always a bit eccentric—forgive me, Connor, but I know you never knew her. Anyway, these mirrors! I always figured she paraded up and down in front of them nude. She was just wild about her body. She dieted all the time. And took those speed pills whenever she gained a pound.”

  Connor fell behind the two women. This was exactly some of the talk she’d hoped to hear when she’d agreed to show the house. Amanda Frost was a bottomless pit of juicy morsels. And if the past was going to be used as a weapon against her or Clay, she intended to know what ammunition was being fired at them.

  “This room is magnificent,” Carol pronounced. “Now, this is something to work toward.” She turned back to look at Connor.

  “I see your point,” Connor lifted an eyebrow.

  “The ceilings in the rest of the house are high enough. We could work with those. And the mantels are good. With some new windows, carpeting, some comfortable furniture …” Carol walked forward, captured by the mosaic tiles along the pool. “How interesting.”

  Connor remained in the hallway as the two women drifted about the room, oohing and aahing over plants and tile and roofline. Of all the rooms in the house, Connor disliked only the garden room. She hadn’t been in there since the night Renata had fallen into the pool. What had she seen? For the first time since the incident, she deliberately tried to replay it in her mind. She’d heard Renata talking either to herself or to someone hidden behind the plants. There had been a splash, the sound of a struggle, and then she’d rushed forward to find Renata in the water.

  The sound of the women talking brought Connor out of her reverie. She glanced in the mirror to her right. Behind her, hands upraised, was the woman in the black dress. Her dark eyes caught Connor’s in the glass and held. A slow smile crept over her face as she lifted a claw-foot hammer.

  Connor threw up an arm to ward off the blow. The handle of the hammer struck her forearm a glancing blow. Reeling backwards, Connor struck one of the mirrors. Glass shattered as Connor fell, down, down into the silver shards.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The pungent odor assaulted her nostrils, and Connor pulled back, flailing with her arms until someone restrained her.

  “Your bride seems to have an equilibrium problem, or else she’s hitting the bottle harder than anyone suspects.” Harlan withdrew the ammonia vial he held under Connor’s nose.

  Connor opened her eyes to find Harlan bending over her, a shock of blond hair over his eyes and his suit wrinkled.

  “She’s coming ‘round now,” he said, tilting back on his heels. Clay stepped forward, worry on every feature.

  “Clay,” Connor shifted, positioning her body to sit up. She was lying on the floor, and she could feel what she suspected was blood trickling down her ear and into her hair.

  “Just stay there,” Clay said. “Amanda said you slipped on something and crashed into one of the mirrors.”

  “Clay … of course. My heel slipped.” Connor knew exactly what had happened, but she didn’t want to start an explanation in front of Harlan and the dozen or so other people who stood around, gaping at the wounded bride. “I think I can sit up.”

  “You banged the hell out of your head,” Harlan said, pushing her hair back. “You’re going to need a few stitches for sure.”

  A jolt of pain arced through her head at Harlan’s touch, followed by a wave of dizziness. She fought the impulse to lie back and cry.

  “Let’s move her to the library,” Clay said. Pushing Harlan aside, he scooped her up in his arms. There was the tinkle of glass as he lifted her from the wreckage.

  “That mirror must have cost a fortune. Such a shame,” Amanda Frost whispered. “There wasn’t a thing on the floor. Poor Connor, what a way to end her wedding!”

  Cradled in Clay’s arms, Connor ignored the woman and all the whispers. They could think what they wanted. She hadn’t stumbled into a mirror; someone had tried to kill her, and she was lucky to be alive to tell about it.

  “Clay, I have to talk to you,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Let Harlan put in a few stitches, and while he’s doing that, I’ll assist our guests in leaving.” He kissed her cheek. “Poor baby, you’ve had a hell of a day.”

  “Someone tried to kill me.” She clung to Clay’s neck and whispered in his ear. Even saying the words made her want to cry.

  “Easy, Connor,” Clay whispered back. “Take it easy. You had a nasty fall. From the looks of your head, you hit that mirror pretty hard. You must have struck your temple on the frame.”

  Connor twisted her fingers in Clay’s hair, tugging gently. “She tried to hit me with a hammer.”

  Clay’s long stride faltered. “Who?”

  “I saw her in the pecan orchard, just at the woods. She was wearing a wedding dress, exactly like mine, only black. She dropped a rose. I found it when I saw Richard. He saw me pick it up, he can prove she was there.” Connor knew she was talking too fast and incoherently, but she sensed that Clay wouldn’t believe her. It was happening again. Someone had attacked her, and no one wanted to believe it.

  “Richard left with your friend Elvie shortly after you went in with Amanda and Carol.” Clay’s voice was perfectly reasonable. “It’s really important that people see us as happy and healthy.” He took her into the library and closed the door. “Connor, look at me.” Easing her into his chair, he kissed her forehead very gently. “A fall is a misfortune, but if you tell people some maniac tried to kill you with a hammer on your wedding day, it’s going to make people wonder about us.”

  “I don’t care what people think, I was attacked …”

  “But I do care.” Worry had settled into the lines around Clay’s mouth and eyes. “Harlan went to get his bag. A couple of stitches and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not making it up.” Connor grabbed Clay’s sleeve.

  “That garden room has been nothing but trouble. First Renata in the pool, now this. I’ll see that it’s completely dismantled.” He took her hand that gripped his jacket, released the fingers, and kissed them one by one. “I won’t have this happening to you. I won’t have the woman I love tormented like this.”

  Connor started to speak, but Willene bustled into the room. “What’s happened here?” She took one look at Connor. “Sweet Jesus in the burning bush! What happened, child?” She hurried over. “Sally! Sally, girl! Get me some warm water and a clean cloth. If this blood dries in her hair, it’ll be hard to get out.”

  Clay stepped back, allowing Willene to clean the wound, followed by Harlan. In a few seconds Harlan had injected her with novocaine and started on the stitches. Connor made no effort to resist.

  “I’d better check on Renata and Danny. I’ll be back in a minute.” Clay glanced at his watch.

  “She’ll be fine, Clay, go on and see about those kids. Willene, could you get Connor something to drink, and give us a few minutes to talk?” Harlan asked.

  He tied off the last stitch as Willene closed the door. “You’ll live, this time, Connor. You’d better get used to cuts and bruises. Clay’s women seem to attract a lot of abuse.”

  Connor slapped his hand away from her head. “You’re pretty damn good with the warnings and threats. Well, try this one on for size: stay out of Clay’s business and mine. We’re marri
ed now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Or?” Harlan was openly amused.

  “Or you’ll discover that I’m a different kettle of fish from Tallulah Bienville Sumner.”

  Harlan didn’t smile. “I’ve always known that, Connor. I tried to warn you. I really did. I did everything in my power to prevent this wedding. It’s going to be the end of Clay’s political career, and I don’t want to think what’s going to happen to you. Now I wash my hands of it.” He snapped his medical bag shut. “Any opposition you’ve had from me in the past is over.”

  Connor swallowed. She liked Harlan much better when he was being aggressively nasty. Now he was really frightening her.

  “If you need anything, call me,” Harlan said, as he left the room without a backward glance.

  Connor eased to her feet. For a moment she was unsteady, but she regained her equilibrium. The sound of the music from the gardens drifted faintly to her. The wedding guests, many of them unaware of her injury, were still eating and drinking and talking. Clay would have his hands full trying to encourage them to leave so early. Now would be a good time to revisit the scene of the crime, before anyone had a chance to meddle. There was a burning question in her mind: how had the woman in the black wedding dress gotten out of the garden room unnoticed when the house was full of guests?

  The library door opened on an empty hallway. Connor eased down it, moving as if she were a thief. Her heart was pounding when she made her way to the door of the garden room.

  She twisted the knob and stepped inside. The broken glass from the mirror was all over the floor. There was a small spot of blood. A tiny, niggling idea was beginning to take shape in her head. It was more than possible that Harlan had “hired” a woman to wear a black wedding dress. That he might have gone so far as to have that woman stage a terrifying attack. With Harlan’s help, the intruder could have slipped in and out of Oaklawn at will. In all the events of the past, Harlan had been handy enough, and she didn’t trust him at all. Maybe, just maybe, she’d finally unraveled the source of her troubles.