Bed Of Lies

by King, Dean

  He had to change the subject. “Mother,” he said lightly. “There’s a woman at the main office, she needs some help in the style department. I'd like you to help her.” This will distract her. If anyone could get Nina to at least buy clothes that fit her, it was his mother. He walked to the desk and sat down.

  “Pardon?” she frowned, her black brow nearly touching. “What is this? From one topic to another?” She caught his hand in hers. “This isn't like you to beat around the bush, tell me what’s bothering you, my son.”

  “Nothing, mother, my chief financial officer has a little bit of a problem dressing for the job. That's all.” Rafe pulled his hand away from hers again, he walked to the large window behind him. Sitting so close to her made him feel as if she could read his thoughts. Leaning his hands on the ledge he stared out at everything but saw nothing.

  “What do you mean?” Her sharp eyes missed nothing. “Why the concern?”

  “She’s a beautiful woman and I'd like you to help her realize that.” Rafe nibbled at his fingernail as he walked back to the desk.

  “What does this have to do with business?” Miranda frowned and swatted at his hand. He removed the hand only to fumble with the neat stack of papers on one corner of the desk. “I'm confused, Rafael, what does this have to do with the other woman?”

  “Nothing.” He turned to her. “One has nothing at all to do with the other.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her, and tapped the toe of one shoe on the floor. “Why the concern? Even if the woman has bad taste, I'm sure she would take offence if I just show up and say, 'Hey I don't like your clothes, try these.’”

  He closed his eyes, praying for patience, he shook his head. “She doesn't have bad taste, she has different taste,” he said, in as calm a tone as he could manage. “I’m going to start sending her out of town, to conferences and such. I want her to look good representing our company.” He refused to look at Miranda. “You have wonderful taste in clothes.”

  “What?” she threw her head back and gave a small bark of laughter. “Since when?” She scoffed when she could control herself. “I've always been told I have outrageous taste.”

  “Stop it, mother,” Rafe was ready for this to be over. “You know you have very good taste.”

  She crossed her hands over her lap and pursed her lips. “I’ve never heard of this before. Why don’t you just have someone else go?” Miranda wondered where this was going. “I do thank you for the compliment.”

  “Because I want her,” he snapped from between clenched teeth, and then fell into the chair he had just vacated. Rafe knew in that instant, truer words had never been spoken. “I mean, I want her to better represent the company.” Why isn’t she married? Did the father of her children leave her or did she leave him? So many questions, and yet for the first time in his life, he was afraid. Fear was not an easy thing to admit to. Neither was it a familiar thing. He did not even know if it truly was fear rushing through him. But something was there, pulling at his heart, making pudding out of his usual cavalier attitude.

  He didn’t feel anything deep for Nina. Of that he was dead sure, but she intrigued him. Did she still love the father of her children? If he came back into her life, would she return to him? He closed his eyes and leaned back. His head ached, he was sure once he had the answers to his questions his fascination with the girl would go away. But this was a new feeling; and the uncertainty ceaselessly nibbled at his. He had no idea how to deal with it. It was his own fault, he made the rules and now she was sticking to them. No questions, no answers. Damn!

  Miranda’s gray eyes narrowed, she leaned closer to the desk. “I'm not stupid you know,” she murmured, he stiffened. “Don’t lie to me, Rafael. If you want to date this girl, then why must she change? Why not take her as she is? And since when do you date employees?”

  Rafe sighed in defeat; he had known this would not be easy. “Because, mother, she doesn’t know how incredibly beautiful she is. I’m not dating her, I just think it’s a waste.”

  “Either you’re dating her or you’re not. Which one is it?” She insisted.

  Rafe stood up; burying his hands deep in the pockets of his black slacks, he began to pace the room. “I told you I'm not dating her. You know the rules dad set. No dating employees.” He heaved a frustrated sigh and turned pewter eyes on her. “But she's different, mother. Nina is so… I don't know how to say it. She's just so not like other women. She seems to want nothing from me. It's as if she could take me or leave me and not lose a night’s sleep over it.”

  She blinked, her eyes widened. “Indeed, she doesn’t sound like your type at all.”

  “Thanks,” he said bitterly.

  She dismissed that. “Tell me a bit about her. This is the same woman who has three children, right?”

  He flushed, slightly embarrassed at being so easy to read, but he nodded. “They are one and the same, but I’m just curious, that's all. She means nothing to me.”

  “Yes, yes,” she nodded. “Okay, start from the beginning. I want to know everything. Start with why she can’t dress herself?”

  Rafe sighed in frustration, “You aren't listening to me,” he could never tell his mother where he met Nina. Neither would he tell her how he felt. He really didn’t know how he felt, but the less she knew, the better.

  “Oh, I hear you just fine. Now, tell me what I want to know.” Miranda sat on a floral settee crossing her legs and waited for him to start. “Come and sit down,” she said. “You're starting to give me a headache watching you wear a hole in my fifty year old Persian rug.”

  He walked to her and fell onto the seat beside her. He shoved his fingers through his already tousled curls. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. The girl is just an employee.”

  Miranda sighed. “Tell me.”

  Rafe stared at the vaulted ceilings, thick wooden beams crossing high overhead. “She’s not my type. She’s tall, but not blond. She isn't at all well endowed.” He chuckled. “You could say she is kind of on the thin side.” He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “She can dress herself just fine, it’s just that she doesn’t seem to be into the latest fashions. I think she should show off her beauty that’s all. So don’t make so much out of it.” He said gruffly.

  “What do you really want from me?” Miranda asked quietly, staring at his profile.

  “I want you to talk to her,” he turned to face her. “She’s never had a mother. Since you've never had a daughter, you might help her.” There. It was out. Now all he had to do was ask her to find out about Nina and the children. “Besides, you’re the best mother in the world.”

  Miranda’s eyes cleared; relieved it wasn’t something big.

  “How kind of you to go looking for a daughter for me. But I had thought to have a daughter-in-law to be friends with. Unless this is your way of telling me that you’re going to marry the girl?” She arched a blue-black brow at him.

  Rafe ignored the sarcasm that dripped from her words. “Don’t have such a one track mind, mother. I just thought you might like to talk to her. If not, then forget I mentioned it.”

  “Oh no, I’d love to talk to this little motherless child. What will I talk to her about?” Miranda kicked off her slippers and curled her small feet under her to get comfortable.

  “Forget it, mother.” He growled, his lips tight.

  “I remember the last time I tried to give you help with a girl, it blew up in my face.” She looked at her manicured nails, and then dusted them on her shirt, looking at him through hooded eyes.

  “I didn’t ask for help with her, you stepped in and took over. If it were up to you I'd be married with five children by now.” Rafe griped as he studied the glass paperweight. Inside, amber bubbles seem to explode, shooting in all directions, much like his thoughts right now.

  “Seeing you married is better than seeing you boys go through girl after girl.” Miranda stared hard at him, righteous indignation on her pretty face. “It’s a shame
how you two leave a trail of broken hearts everywhere you go.”

  “I don’t do that, and you know it.” Rafe sighed; this was a battle no one could win. “I’m too busy for that.”

  “All I know is you boys need to get yourselves one girl each, and settle down. I hate lying to your women. It makes me feel underhanded.” Miranda declared.

  “Mother, that’s Frank, not me, and you well know it. When was the last heart I broke?” Rafe challenged.

  Miranda looked thoughtful for a moment. “That would be Cecilia seven months ago.”

  “You broke her heart. You told her I loved her and that I was thinking about asking her to marry me. That was so far from the truth it was unbelievable. All I wanted was to break it off with her.” Rafe said dryly.

  “You told me you had feelings for her.” Miranda threw over her shoulder as she got up and walked away from him.

  “Yes, feelings of disgust, boredom, suffocation. I felt trapped between you two.” Rafe said, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “She was addicted to the club.”

  Miranda blanched at his quiet admission, her stomach heaved. “The club?” Memories flooded her, memories long since buried.

  Rafe nodded, never noticing her sickly pale color as she turned away from him. “Frank told her about it and she dove in head first. It became a nightly ritual with her. After the first three times, I gave up but she continued to go.” He seethed. “I hate that place.”

  “Oh, Rafe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Miranda bit her lip. “Have you spoken to Frank again about tearing it down?”

  Rafe snorted. “Yes, but Frank lives there. He isn't actively participating any more, as far as I know, but that's the one company dad left him that he actually enjoys running. The rest he leaves to me and I have to keep him afloat.”

  “God, I hate that your father won it in that awful card game!” Miranda wrapped her arms around her waist holding tight. She did not add that he’d won her the same way, that very same night. Her eyes became fathomless pools as she stared into space. Despite her struggle against it, the past grabbed her and pulled her in.

  When her mother died in childbirth, what little respectability her father had vanished and, it seemed, so was his heart. Her father hadn’t been a proud man. And he was a piss-poor gambler. He’d run from England with his tail tucked between his legs, like a whipped dog. Only to land in America. Texas, to be exact, to start a new life he said. Ha! A lesser version of the old one. With his horrible gambling and drinking problems.

  When the family bakery he ran began to go under, he thought to win money playing poker to keep it afloat. But when he lost his savings, the only thing he had left was his last child. Her. That night he lost his shop, his child, and his life after shooting himself through the head. At seventeen, Miranda was left in the hands of an American Spaniard. A man who didn’t want her. That night the Spaniard went on to win the disgusting club that would shape her family’s early years.

  “Mother?” Rafe took her cold hands in his, concern marred his strong features.

  Miranda forced a laugh as she gave his hand a squeeze. “I'm alright.” She changed the subject. “You know I’m getting older, I want to see some grandkids before too long. Forgive me if I thought to rush you just a bit.” Her sharp eyes took on a speculative look.

  “It’s okay, mother, just don’t mix Frank’s list of bimbos up with me. Besides, he was just fine until Diane came into his life. After their divorce, he went sour on women and life.”

  “I know, and one day I pray some woman will bring him to heel.” She sighed. “You’re not as bad as Frank, but still, you boys need to think of these women and what they want from the relationship, not just your own gratification.”

  “I'm not in the market right now, thanks.” Rafe admitted quietly. “I am, however, thinking of Nina. She needs a woman to talk to.” He knew his mother well. She would do this for him. Even if it were only out of curiosity.

  “Yes, at this moment you’re thinking of her. But what of later?” She asked.

  “Mother don’t, Nina is different, she’s special.”

  “So you care for this one?” Miranda said, eyeing him.

  “I think she’s different that’s all.” Rafe realized he’d spoken a bit too quickly. “Will you talk to her? I think she needs a shoulder to cry on, and mine is busy at the moment.”

  “Who said anything about anything?” She shrugged lightly, but Rafe didn’t like the undertones in her voice. “Come on, tell where I can meet with your friend and what I’ll talk to her about.”

  *****

  “Sir?” Peter walked into the dark paneled mayor's office.

  Mayor Martin waved him to a seat. The look on his face was thunderous. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Peter sat straight, eyeing the mayor with barely concealed distain. If he wasn’t his meal ticket, Peter would’ve left the fat drunken letch long ago. He cleared his throat. “It seems everyone on my list has either moved or died.” He shrugged. “That is what's taking so long.”

  “Damn!” Mayor Martin twirled from side to side in his chair an intense frown making his usually stern face that much harsher. “Look, Peter,” he leaned forward in his chair. “It's the first week in June. The candidates have all tossed their hats in the ring. I’d hoped to make her bow out before it could get this far. That bitch has the popular vote. I went to her, told her what we found, and still that stuck up witch denied everything. Are you absolutely sure this isn't just some rambling of a bitter old woman?”

  “Sir, I'm not sure, but it gives us something to work with.”

  “Oh Christ!” Martin groaned and fell back in his seat, his head clasped in his hands.

  “I'm down to my last two contacts. If they don’t pan out I'll leave it alone. But, sir, I don't think you should’ve told her about this.”

  Wiry silver brows shot up. “Why the hell not? It would get her running scared and, by some small miracle, she might’ve dropped out.”

  “But what if it’s true? What if she finds the girl first?”

  Martin dismissed that. “So what? What is she going to do kill her? I don't think so.”

  “She found a way to make the girl disappear once, maybe she'll do it again.” Peter suggested.

  “In that case, I suggest you get back to work. Find me the child! If she’s alive, she can hand us our future on a silver platter.”

  *****

  “Rafe!” Wayne rushed into Rafe’s office and ran to his desk.

  Rafe stood up, immediately alarmed by the look on Wayne’s face. “What? What happened?”

  “Sharon is missing!”

  “Calm yourself Wayne,” Rafe came around the side of his desk and caught Wayne’s arms. “Who’s Sharon and how do you know she’s missing?”

  “You remember,” Wayne said and shook free of Rafe’s hold. “She’s Ms. Manchester’s secretary.”

  Rafe was instantly alert. “Tell me what you know?”

  Wayne went to a set of cabinets and pulled open the doors. He turned on the Television and the DVD player. “I got this from the security guard. Watch, and tell me what you think.” Wayne popped the tape in and Rafe sat on his desk his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the DVD to play.

  After viewing the tape Rafe looked at Wayne. “Call the police, bring them straight to me. I don’t want Ms. Manchester involved.”

  “But she will be, they’ll have to ask her questions.”

  “What do you think about what he said?” Rafe asked.

  “I don’t know what to make of it.” Wayne said. “What could the man want? Ms. Manchester doesn’t keep any money all she does is work with the numbers.”

  “I hate to think it but, it doesn’t look good for Sharon. While we wait on the police I want you to start a search party. Start around here, search the Bayou, the mall, anywhere and everywhere you can think of.”

  “I’ll start gathering my crew right now.”

  “Get Doug and his guys,
I need you here.” Rafe felt a sick pull in his stomach. “I need eyes on Ms. Manchester, this maybe an isolated event, but I don’t like what he said. She may be in trouble.”

  “I’d really like to help with the search Rafe,” Rafe turned at the catch in Wayne’s voice.

  “Are you okay?”

  Wayne nodded. “She was sweet,” he sucked in his breath and headed for the door. “I’ll see to the arrangements.”

  Before Rafe could say anything Wayne was out the door. Rafe didn’t have time to wonder about Wayne, someone had been that close to Nina. She could have been the one missing right now instead of Sharon, and he shivered. She was fast becoming as necessary as air was for breathing. He would do everything he could to make sure she stayed safe. First and foremost he needed to talk with Clem and find out how this had happened without him seeing it.

  *****

  A test. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky. A light breeze swayed the branches of the large oak tree overhead, just enough to make them sigh and gleam. This was one of those rare days in Houston, those precious few days between winter and spring, which made everyone want to be outside.

  Miranda walked briskly down the tree-lined sidewalk outside the office building. She’d fought hard to hide her surprise upon first sight of the girl, having assumed she’d be white or Spanish. But black had never crossed her mind. Why did he think he could keep his feelings for this girl from me? Lord knows it’s written all over his face every time he talks of her. If the test worked, she would give the girl a chance. If it failed, then her son was better off without this tall slender woman.

  Miranda was tempted to look up at the sixth floor where Rafe stood watching, but she continued on her way. He refused to admit there was anything going on between himself and this girl, but he’d insisted the meeting be as soon as possible. He’d been a barrel of nerves the whole while. It warmed her that he would come to her with this, even if he wouldn’t confess. It warmed her heart knowing he valued her opinion.