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Page 122
“Yes. That’s when he changed his will to include you. And you came back to town. Don’t tell me you didn’t know!”
“But…but I didn’t,” Veronica stammered. Why hadn’t Eli told her?
“Then he started inviting you over, wanting us to get to know you. He pretended you were his goddaughter when all along I knew the truth and I hated you.”
Veronica swiped at a tear streaming down her cheek. This was too much. Eli was her father. She barely knew how she felt about that, and now she’d learned he might be dying.
“How long does Eli have?”
“That’s none of your business,” Tessa snapped, taking a step forward.
Veronica tensed. She had to stall a little longer, try to talk some sense into Tessa. “So you shot Nathan.”
“That bullet was meant for you. Just like the knife.”
“You broke into my apartment and tried to kill me. And all along I thought it was a man who tried to stab me.” I even suspected Eli.
“Of course. All it took was a little padding. And a little help from my friend. She kept drugging your tea.”
“What friend?”
“Louise.” A sickening smile lit Tessa’s face.
The tea Louise kept making for her. Veronica felt dizzy. How easy it had been for Tessa. “So Louise was helping you? Why, for money?”
Tessa laughed, a hideous sound that turned Veronica’s stomach. Tessa truly was psychotic. “You idiot. I didn’t have to pay Louise. All I did was blackmail her.”
Snatches of small things flitted back to Veronica. She remembered Nathan saying Louise had a shaky history, but she’d never suspected Louise was involved with Tessa. She’d thought the connection was Gerald.
“I see. And she took my keys from the office. That’s how you kept getting in.”
Tessa looked triumphant. “It was a great plan. Louise was so afraid someone would find out about her past and she’d have to leave. She loved this stupid small town.” Tessa laughed. “I thought we’d succeed in making you go nuts before I had to kill you, but I guess you’re stronger than I thought.”
You’ve got that right, Veronica thought, digging her nails into the side of her purse. If she could get the gun, maybe she could ward off Tessa.
“When Louise drugged your tea at the office before our lunch, I was hoping you’d fall asleep at the wheel.”
“But instead I showed up for our lunch meeting and got sick.”
“Right.” Tessa waved the knife around, laughing.
“And the red jacket and pin? The fire at my office?”
“That was Louise’s idea. She got nervous, wanted to cover her own tracks.”
“And that detective, Ford?”
Tessa giggled. “He got in the way.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you—you’re going to die just like your parents.”
Veronica sucked in a harsh breath. Ironic, everyone had thought she was the crazy one, when Tessa had obviously been unstable all her life. She would not let Tessa kill her. She would see her rot in jail or a mental ward. Tessa licked her lips like a predator coming in for the kill, and Veronica knew the time had come to defend herself. She reached inside and pulled out the gun just as Tessa lunged for her.
“HURRY!” Nathan bellowed as Eli raced down the road. He used Eli’s car phone to call for backup. He’d wanted to explain his suspicions to Eli, but he’d decided to wait. Maybe he was wrong about Gerald. He could always hope.
“Are you sure she’ll be here?”
“No, but it’s our best guess. She’s been coming here to try and regain her memory.”
When they turned the corner to the old homestead, a black customized Cadillac sat in the drive.
“Gerald’s car?” Eli said. “What the hell?”
Eli barreled into the drive and Nathan leaped out with Eli on his heels, his bandaged arm pressed against his side. Nathan stopped by the car for his gun and quickly checked the glove compartment. It was gone. He prayed Veronica had taken it. Putting a finger to his lips, he motioned for Eli to be quiet as they padded up to the porch. Just as they made the last step, Nathan heard a scream. Then a gunshot.
Veronica.
He bolted through the door, sending a fresh wave of pain jolting through his shoulder. He’d probably undone his stitches, but he didn’t care. He had to save Veronica from Gerald. He quickly scanned the den, but saw nothing. Then he heard sounds from the back. He raced through the hall toward Veronica’s parents’ room. Eli hurried behind him. The sounds of scuffling brought another surge of panic. He hoped he was in time! Bracing his good arm against the door, he inched into the doorway.
Only it wasn’t Gerald who was fighting with Veronica. Veronica was struggling with Tessa. Their heavy breathing filled the air. Tessa knocked the gun from Veronica’s hand, and it fell to the floor. Then Tessa pushed Veronica down and climbed over her, raising the knife to Veronica’s neck.
Eli ran in behind him. Nathan kicked the gun aside, then grabbed Tessa’s arm and tried to drag her off Veronica. Tessa struggled, clawing at him with one hand while arcing the hand with the knife above Veronica. Veronica bucked upward, trying to dislodge Tessa.
“Tessa, stop!” Eli shouted. Eli grabbed Tessa’s hand and pried her fingers from the knife. Tessa stared at him as if she didn’t recognize him, her face etched with fury. Veronica pushed Tessa away and Eli managed to drag Tessa to the corner. She kicked and screamed. “No, she has to die. She has to.”
“Tessa, my God, what are you doing?” Eli said, choking on his emotions.
Tessa broke into hysterical sobs, and Eli took her in his arms and rocked her back and forth. Nathan rushed to Veronica and crushed her to him, prodding her body with his hands to check for injuries. Veronica clung to him, her breath erratic. He felt her heart pounding as he hugged her. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” Veronica whispered.
He spotted blood on her blouse. “But you’re bleeding. Tell me where you’re hurt!”
A soft nervous laugh escaped Veronica. “It’s not me. It’s you.” Her voice broke on a sob. “You undid your stitches.”
Nathan looked down and realized blood was seeping through his bandage. His shoulder and arm throbbed, but it didn’t matter. Veronica was safe. And the whole nightmare was over. All his prior reservations about marriage and his job faded when he looked into her eyes. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if he wasn’t with her. Nothing mattered without Veronica. He kissed her hair, her face, her mouth, her fingers. His voice cracked as he said, “Dammit, why did you come here by yourself? I might not have made it in time.”
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters,” Veronica said in a strangled whisper. He hugged her to him and braced her face with his hands to kiss her again.
“Eli’s my father,” Veronica said when he finally relaxed against her. “I…I didn’t know.”
Nathan stroked her hair. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
AS SOON AS the police arrived, Tessa was taken into custody. Her frantic, hysterical sobs had died, and she looked like a shattered, injured animal. Veronica almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
“I’ll be there with you,” Eli told Tessa. “We’ll get you some help.”
“We’ll wait for you in the car.” Lieutenant Stevens escorted a handcuffed and subdued Tessa outside.
Eli’s eyes were red and swollen and his expression wary as he approached Veronica. Nathan sat beside her on the old couch, holding her hand. She was still trembling from shock. The memories that had flooded back were painful, yet in the background of her mind, occasionally a sweet memory surfaced. She hoped in time she would recall completely the precious little time she’d had with her parents. And no matter what Eli or Tessa said, her mother and father were dead.
“I’m so sorry, Veronica,” Eli said, kneeling in front of her. He ran a hand through his disheveled gray hair.
“I remember everything,” Veronica said, squeezing Nathan’s hand for support. “I remember all about t
hat night. You and my mom…and dad.”
Eli lowered his face. “I…I didn’t know Tessa was there.” He shook his head sadly. “I swear I didn’t. When I left that night, your parents were so upset, I honestly believed what Scroggins said.”
“You didn’t know Tessa was disturbed?” Nathan asked.
Eli cleared his throat, his voice husky with emotions. “She had problems as a child, emotional ones after her mother died. But I never knew it was this bad. And I never realized my transgressions hurt her so badly.” He wiped a tear from his cheek. “I covered up her problems. She got in trouble with the law a few times, but Scroggins always helped me cover it up. And lately…”
“Lately what?” Nathan asked.
“Lately I thought she was doing better.” He sighed. “I know I made some mistakes, Veronica. I hope you can forgive me.”
Veronica’s throat tightened. “You didn’t know my mother was pregnant when you broke up with her?”
“No. I was young and ambitious and foolish. I had no idea.”
“And you didn’t know your mother threatened her?”
“No. I was caught up in the campaign. I allowed Mother to run my life. Then when I found out about you…” He paused and squeezed her hand. Veronica stiffened, unsure how to respond. “I wanted you. But your parents didn’t want to make it public. We argued. And I left.” He paused again, then cleared his throat. “Then after they died, I wanted to come for you. But your grandmother was there. And when I saw how traumatized you were, I was afraid if you remembered, you’d blame me. I didn’t think I could live with that.”
“Then I didn’t remember,” Veronica said.
Eli wiped tears from his cheeks. “I decided that was for the best. I was so afraid you’d hate me.”
The sincerity in Eli’s voice tugged at Veronica’s heart. She remembered Tessa saying Eli was ill. “Was Tessa telling the truth about your illness?”
Eli nodded. “When I discovered my illness, I knew I had to make up for lost time with you. Then you moved back, and I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Veronica felt Nathan’s arm tighten around her. She pressed her hand over his and squeezed it, thanking him for his silent support.
Lieutenant Stevens poked his head in. “We’re ready to go.” He nodded toward Nathan. “They picked Louise Falk up a few minutes ago.”
Eli stood. “I’d like to see you again, Veronica.”
Veronica hesitated. “Give me some time, Eli.”
He bent and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be waiting.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
Eli smiled. “They’ll have to understand. It’s about time I took charge of things.” Then he left to take care of Tessa.
Veronica turned to Nathan and saw the blood still soaking his bandage. He must be in pain, but he hadn’t complained. “We need to get you back to the hospital.” She started to rise, but he pulled her back against him.
“Not until we settle something.”
“What?”
Nathan cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Veronica. I want you to marry me.”
Veronica’s emotions ranged from surprise to joy to fear. “I can’t.”
He winced as if she’d hurt him. “Why not?”
Veronica bit her lip and moved across the room, distancing herself from him. “I love you, Nathan. But…but I cause people to die.”
Nathan grabbed her with his uninjured arm and lowered his mouth to hers. “I’m still here.”
Veronica gazed into his eyes.
“Ah, darling, you’ve given me back my life. Don’t you know, you’re the very reason I want to live.” Then he crushed her in his embrace and there was nothing else for her to say except “Yes.”
Epilogue
Veronica slipped her hand into the crook of Eli’s arm, and he escorted her down the aisle. She couldn’t control the smile on her face. The wedding was set in the small chapel in Oakland, and beautiful azaleas flanked the front lawn. Tulips and wildflowers lined the walkway outside, and gorgeous white dogwood blossoms filled the trees. Inside she’d asked for pots of pansies so she could take them home and plant them in her yard—the one she and Nathan would share—the one where their children would run and play.
Church organ music drummed softly, and she hugged Eli’s arm, grateful she’d made peace with her past and with him. Then she looked up and saw a wicked, sexy gleam in Nathan’s amber eyes, and couldn’t wait for her honeymoon.
At the end of the aisle, Eli kissed her and handed her over to Nathan.
“Hi, beautiful,” he whispered.
“Hi.” She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “I had another vision.”
A serious expression replaced Nathan’s smile. He’d been so kind and understanding during the last month while she’d sorted out her past and her feelings about Eli. And while she’d dealt with a host of memories that constantly grew. Dr. Sandler had helped her understand that she’d blamed herself for her parents’ deaths because they’d been arguing about her. They’d also talked about Ford’s death and how they would handle Nathan’s job.
Veronica smiled. “It’s a vision of our future. With lots of little Dawson babies in it.”
“Don’t scare me like that.” Nathan dragged her into his arms and kissed her. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”
Veronica smiled. With Nathan’s love and support, she felt confident she would. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you back.” He pressed his mouth to hers again.
The judge cleared his throat. “We haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
Laughter erupted in the church, and Veronica clung to Nathan’s hand, ready to take the vows that would last for the rest of her life.
Tangled Lies
by Anne Stuart
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Prologue
December 1969—Cambridge
There was a biting wind ripping through the Cambridge streets, laced with the icy tang of the sea and the Charles River, whipped into stinging pellets of freezing rain that assaulted the back of his neck as he ducked his head down. He brushed past the crowds of people with unseeing hazel eyes trained on the cracked sidewalks, his affable grin absent. Usually he made a concerted effort to look strangers in the eye and smile, but his cheerful friendliness was nowhere to be seen that day. Ducking around a corner, his booted feet moved faster. He hadn’t wanted to leave the town house. Second-year chemistry students tended to think they had all the answers. He would have felt safer if they were graduate students. By that time in their studies people knew enough to realize how much more they had to learn.
Charlie’s Pizza Palace was a small, funky hole-in-the-wall that served as meeting place, dining hall, and home away from home for their small, dedicated group. Tinny Christmas carols were blaring forth from an old AM radio behind the counter, and some ratty-looking tinsel, spotted with tomato sauce, adorned the seldom-used cash register. The man slammed the door shut behind him as he entered, closing out the biting wind and some of his misgivings, and went to pick up the pizzas.
Three large, with the works, ought to keep them occupied most of the night, until he could make sure they knew what they were doing. He was older than most of them—he felt so
mehow responsible. A staid, sober influence, he thought with a laugh. Who was he kidding? But the pizzas and the gallon of cheap red wine they’d brought with them when they’d arrived earlier that afternoon served to distract them for a while, and one of those intense all-night arguments on political theory would finish the night. A wry grin lit his lean, youthful face. There’d be no revolution without pizza and cheap red wine to fuel it, he thought, and lots of theory. Bringing out the money, he felt the customary twinge of guilt. Money was too available to him; too many people were in need, and his pockets were always bulging.
“Keep the change.” Hefting the three large boxes in his small, strong hands, he headed back out into the Massachusetts winter. Charlie looked after him, wiped his nose, and stuck the fifty-dollar bill in a back pocket before turning up the radio as dogs barked “Jingle Bells.”
The pizzas would be cold by the time he made it the four blocks back to the elegant town house that resembled nothing so much as a Haight-Ashbury crash pad right now. Donovan’s parents were touring Europe. He could imagine their horrified reaction if they returned early, in time for Christmas, and saw the holiday decorations Donovan and Julianna had fashioned. But Donovan’s parents weren’t going to return any time in the near future, and Christmas would pass undisturbed and unnoticed.
Not by the majority of Boston, however. Songs about peace on earth blared forth from every radio, interspersed with bulletins announcing the rising death toll and the constant escalation of that nasty, vicious little war. All is calm, all is bright, he thought, turning the corner into the wealthier section of Cambridge, where there were neater streets and quieter houses, where the silent weight of wealth and prosperity and capitalism radiated its smug self-assurance to the deliberately scruffy passersby. Peace on earth was a cruel joke, he thought, ducking his head against the stinging sleet. When the most peace-minded people he knew spent the season of joy and hope constructing bombs, and he was a half-hearted patron. Nitroglycerin cost money, which he had in abundance.