Chayton

by Danielle Bourdon

  Either way, she would need another room tonight, too. And maybe that's where she would stay until she had things under better control. Swiping a tear from her cheek, she sat up and used the rear view mirror to study her bloodshot eyes. She looked fresh from a wicked hangover. Resetting the mirror, she started the car and pulled out of the rest stop. The first decent looking, reasonable hotel she came to was the one she would call home for the next few days, at least.

  The thought of Chayton's home, as much as she wanted to find comfort there, wasn't the option she needed to take. It pained her to give up on it, yet as she pulled off the freeway eight miles later, and into a hotel parking lot, she knew it was the right choice. It would take her the better part of five or six days to reach Montana with her frequent breaks and stopping early due to burnout.

  After bribing the night clerk to let her rent a room for the night with no identification, Kate toted her purse and one duffel bag into the elevator and got off on the third floor. As weary as she was, she still started in surprise when a door opened behind her in the hallway.

  It was just a guest, ice bucket in hand, heading the opposite direction.

  Kate let herself into the room via a card key and closed the door behind her. Done in shades of peach and cream, with a single queen bed, a small table for two and a flatscreen television, the room served its purpose. She dropped her purse and bag on the bed and rifled through the duffel for pajamas. During the drive, she'd stopped twice to purchase the bare minimum she needed in clothes and undergarments.

  After taking care of personal business, and hitting the shower, she emerged with a towel on her head and simple pajama pants with a matching shirt. Right away she turned on the television and sought the news stations. As the reporters droned about this report and that, she plopped in a chair at the small table and opened the complimentary newspaper.

  Every day she took the time to seek news of Chayton's death. He wasn't royalty or someone who sought a high public profile, but she figured she'd hear something about it somewhere. His death deserved a mention in the paper, at the very least. Yet every day, she found nothing. No article, no news, not even speculation.

  She wasn't sure how it made her feel. Was his family withholding information while an investigation was under way? She knew they had the power—as long as the media didn't catch wind.

  Running a finger along her lower lip, she got lost in the memory of Chayton's mouth, his touches, the way he looked at her so intently. Kate fought back more tears and closed the paper. Guilt was a beast and a burden she couldn't shake. His death was her fault. She should have never left the beach house, never went searching to make clandestine deals in the rain.

  Turning off the television, she climbed into bed and pulled the sheets to her chin.

  Tomorrow, she would start the process of retribution.

  . . .

  When morning came, and she'd had a good night's rest, Kate had the desire to shirk her former idea and start driving for Montana. She wanted to be near things that had once belonged to Chayton, wanted to raid his closet for a shirt to snuggle up in at night.

  Instead, she got out the phone book from the night stand and started perusing the yellow pages. It took her four hours and eight phone calls before she found someone she liked. What was more, Mister Espinosa of Espinosa and White Law firm out of Las Cruces New Mexico, knew who her mother was. He'd heard about Anna's death through a co-worker and agreed to meet her in the conference room at the hotel in two days time. All she had to do was lay low and keep out of sight. Kate spent the hours in between digging up all the information she could about Anton, including making notes about her suspicions that he'd had a hand in her mother's murder. She knew it would be all but impossible to prove, but she made the notes anyway.

  Every morning she turned on the television and went downstairs to the lobby to get a newspaper. Searching—in vain—for news of Chayton's death.

  On the afternoon of the second day, she met Mister Robert Espinosa in the conference room that she'd reserved just for the occasion. Neat and tidy in a navy suit with a crisp white shirt and blue tie, Mister Espinosa turned out to be efficient, professional and courteous. Hair slicked back away from a strong featured, handsome face, Espinosa was the epitome of a successful businessman. He listened to every detail Kate had to tell. About her mother's insistence on not marrying Anton, and Anton's persistence in the matter. She brought up Anton's debts, his pursuing of her before and after Anna's death, and the entire situation in Hawaii. During her explanation of overhearing Anton tell someone on the phone to 'dispose of the body', she'd been forced to pause and take a sip of water. Mister Espinosa took notes with a shiny platinum pen, asked pertinent questions, and reassured her that he could—and would—help her.

  With instructions to stay put at the hotel for now while he built a case against Anton, Kate saw the lawyer to the double doors, shook his hand, and teared up a little at the kindness she saw in his eyes.

  Back in her hotel room, she paced back and forth in front of the window, restless and nervous. Hopeful, too, that Espinosa could once and for all bring an end to Anton's reign of terror.

  Three days after her first meeting, Espinosa called to say that Anton was no longer staying at her property. He'd departed shortly after her, according to the staff, taking off for parts unknown. Espinosa reinforced his wish for her to remain where she was, and to not contact anyone from home. No friends, no employees. Nothing. He didn't want to give Anton any way to find her. Over the next week, he'd told her, he would be turning his investigation to Hawaii and what had happened there.

  For now, he was finishing conducting interviews at her New York homestead and securing the property from any further visits by Anton.

  Stuck at the hotel, Kate wiled away her time with laps in the hotel pool, sunbathing and working out in the gym. Every morning without fail she checked the news, disconcerted that there was no report on Chayton. His family must have put the brakes on the situation and kept it out of the media altogether.

  Kate mourned the loss, more distraught about the circumstances with each day that passed.

  If only she had it to do over again.

  If only.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chayton stared out the window of his home office, looking at nothing in particular. Hands clasped behind his back, a muscle twitching in his jaw, he waited for Kate's attorney to arrive.

  So this was it. This was when he finally discovered what she wanted. What she and Anton wanted. Two weeks had passed since his meeting with his own lawyer, two long weeks of waiting and wondering. Now he was about to find out just what kind of a fight he had on his hands.

  “Mister Black, Mister Espinosa to see you,” the butler said, stepping back from the open doorway to admit the lawyer.

  Chayton turned around as Espinosa nodded to the butler, and entered. His first impression of the attorney was one of calm intellect and subtle confidence. This was a man used to winning the cases he took on.

  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Espinosa said. He extended his hand.

  “Of course.” Chayton schooled his features. After the cordial shake, he gestured to a chair opposite his own, then sat down behind his desk. Chayton restrained himself from asking questions outright. Instead, he said, “I'm surprised you didn't go through my attorney.”

  “I needed to see you and talk to you in person,” Espinosa said as he sat down. He set his leather-clad file on his lap. “There has been a gross misunderstanding, I believe.”

  “About?” Chayton leaned back in the chair, one foot hooking casually over his opposite knee.

  “My client—your wife—thinks you're dead.”

  Chayton's brows arched high. “Excuse me?”

  “Kate Fairchild believes you to be deceased. Imagine my surprise once I started digging into the case to find you very much alive.”

  “I'm sure that makes everything a bit more complicated than if I was dead. Pity for her.”
Stung by the thought that Kate probably imagined she could waltz in and take everything he owned, he picked up a pen to click the end over and over in agitation. It wasn't like him, these nervous habits. A moment later he set the pen back down.

  Espinosa looked genuinely surprised. “I'm sorry?”

  “Let's just get on with it. I'm in no mood for more games. How much of my estate and business are they going after? And just know this from the start—I intend to fight them all the way.”

  For several seconds, Espinosa just stared. Then he adjusted his wire rimmed glasses and shifted on his seat. “Mister Black, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm here because I'm investigating the claim of your death, and now that I've found you alive, I'd like to ask you some questions. You see, my client hired me to go after Anton, not anything of yours. I'm here to find out why she thinks you're dead, and to find out what happened in Hawaii.”

  “To go after Anton?”

  “Yes. She didn't mention about anything regarding your business or estate.”

  Chayton, battling confusion, stood up from his chair. So much for pretending to relax. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and strolled behind his desk. There was plenty of room to make a small circuit in front of the bookcases.

  “Where is Kate?” Chayton asked first.

  “I'm not at liberty to say until we make sure she's out of immediate danger.”

  “What danger? From me?” Chayton frowned.

  “No, no. Anton Bertini absconded with her in Hawaii, told her you were dead—even went so far as to make arrangements for your body—and then took her back to her home in New York where she promptly fled for her life. She was driving here, actually, but stopped somewhere between and called me in to deal with Anton. She was too mentally and emotionally drained to complete the long drive.” Espinosa cocked his head a little to the side, as if examining Chayton's reaction to the news.

  Chayton continued to pace. This wasn't what he expected. Not at all. “So she's not working with Anton? Are you sure? Because I was told a plot was afoot regarding my demise, probably to get their hands on my estate.”

  “I'm sure. She's attempting a restraining order on Anton, and more than that, to get him brought up on charges of murder.”

  “Except I'm not dead,” Chayton reminded him.

  “Not just you. But her mother. She's suspected Anton was behind Anna's death all along and it was part of the reason she went on the run to begin with. She's afraid he'll do the same thing to her if he manages to get his name on a marriage certificate with hers.”

  “She never mentioned she thought Anton might be Anna's murderer.” It shed new light on everything and explained better some of her actions in the beginning. Chayton exhaled and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Bringing his pacing to a halt, he considered the information.

  “That's not something you want to tell someone you just met, especially after the circumstances that brought you together.”

  “She told you?”

  “Everything, yes. I needed to know the whole story to take her case.”

  “I've been waiting weeks to hear something. What took so long?” Chayton asked, looking back to Espinosa.

  “I started at her house, interviewing the staff to see how strong of a case we have. It took a while to go through the members, and then some of the managers of the business who had contact with Anton. Then I went to Hawaii and got the run around. The people in charge of the beach houses there don't like to give up any information on the guests that rent them.”

  “And for good reason. Most of their clientele are high profile.”

  “Indeed. I didn't know you were still alive until I got back to the states and did some inquiring.”

  “You haven't called Kate to tell her?” Chayton began pacing again, mind racing a mile a minute. Perhaps his gut instinct had been right all along. Maybe the assassin had lied in a last ditch effort to save himself, or to aid Anton in absconding with Kate. He should have taken Mattias and Leander and stormed Anton's beach house and demanded answers.

  “No. I wanted to see you and talk to you first, make sure I had the facts straight.”

  “To make sure I was really alive,” Chayton said.

  “Yes.”

  “Do me a favor. Don't tell her yet. Give me her address and I'll go see her myself.” Chayton wanted to see her reaction when she found out he wasn't dead. He wanted to ask her a hundred questions, none of them easy or simple.

  Espinosa hesitated. “No one knows where she is but me. I've kept it that way so there wouldn't be any leaks over her whereabouts while I bring formal charges against Anton.”

  “I won't give her address to anyone, not even my personal assistant.” Chayton rounded the edge of the desk and leaned his hip there. “She could use company by now, I'm sure.”

  “I'll tell you what. Give me another week. I need the copy of your marriage certificate, also. You can fax one to my office.” Espinosa stood, holding the folder in one hand, and fished a business card from his pocket. “Now that I know you're alive, her charges of murder are going to be harder to prove. I only have Anna's death to go on, and so far, there just isn't enough evidence to convict Anton of anything. A restraining order will only go so far with someone like him.”

  Chayton accepted the card without breaking eye contact with Espinosa. “If he finds out she's hired a lawyer and that you're trying to put him away, it'll make him more aggressive. Leaving her alone anywhere is dangerous.”

  “But it's kept her safe and secure so far. A week, that's all I'm asking.” Espinosa extended his hand.

  Chayton tapped the card against his fingers, then traded handshakes with Espinosa, sealing the deal. “All right. If you think she's in any kind of danger, though, I want to know immediately. I have the means to help if she needs it.”

  “I'll let you know, and I'll be in touch as soon as I get everything together.” Espinosa smiled, then turned to the door.

  Chayton walked the lawyer back through the house to the porch, lingering there as Espinosa climbed into his sleek black car and drove down the long driveway. He tapped the card against his fingers again, then glanced down at the sleek, easy to read black writing against the white background. Name, office number, fax number, address. This should be more than enough to do what he needed to have done.

  Heading inside, Chayton pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Leander.

  Thanks to the Elite, and all their connections, it was only a matter of time before Chayton traced Kate back through Espinosa's phone records.

  . . .

  “I'm telling you. He's taking extreme caution whenever he does contact her,” Leander said. “We've traced all his cell phone calls and nothing goes anywhere unusual. His wife, his children, his office, co-workers. A few friends outside work that he golfs with. No leads back to Kate.”

  “Then Espinosa must be using a public phone or something,” Chayton said. Sitting in his home office again, he glanced from Leander to Mattias as the prince spoke up next. It was pushing early evening and his friends had been here for two hours, going over details with him.

  “We've had someone keeping tabs on Espinosa, thinking the same thing. If he's using a public phone, then he's doing so under cover somewhere instead of in the open. None of our guys have seen him stop to call anyone while he's out.” Mattias raked a hand back through his hair.

  “It's been a week. I'm getting impatient.” Chayton pushed up from his chair, unable to sit still. He'd expected one of their leads to take him straight to Kate's door—where ever that may be. So far, nothing. The longer he waited, the more questions he had. His wariness thinking Kate was working with Anton had mostly faded, leaving him concerned about her welfare. He didn't see why the lawyer would lie, and all the information pointed to Espinosa telling the truth with what happened to Kate.

  “Well, I know you said Espinosa promised he'd get back with you in a week, so we're there. Maybe he'll call with the informati
on,” Leander added.

  “He called day before yesterday, in fact. He needs more time. He said there might be a new lead from Kate's household, but he has to fly there and do more interviews, which just means more waiting.” Chayton paused, then glanced at Mattias and Leander. “What can we do to speed things up? We're already tapping Espinosa's phone and tailing him around his hometown.”

  “He's either calling her from somewhere else, as in a friend's house, or he's using a different cell phone. He probably bought one just to call her, one not connected to his account. I have to say, he's covered his tracks pretty well.” Mattias spread his hands, gesturing while he spoke. “I'd guess he isn't using his house phone, but we can track some of those calls, too, just in case.”

  “One thing in Kate's favor here, is that if we're having a hard time tracking Espinosa's phone calls to find her, then so is anyone else,” Leander said.

  For some reason, that didn't ease Chayton's impatience or make him feel any better. “It's only a matter of time. While Espinosa's building a case, he's out there, looking for her. I can't believe he's given up.”

  “Anton's bound by the same limitations we are. I think Espinosa's covered his—and Kate's—tracks pretty well,” Mattias said. “But I know that doesn't help. I know you just want answers.”

  “Son,” a quiet voice said from the doorway.

  Chayton glanced across the room to see his father standing on the threshold. Mattias and Leander rose from their seats and faced the door. Something about Waya's expression and the tone in his voice sent Chayton's inner alarm bells ringing. And it wasn't just him. He noticed Mattias and Leander withheld greetings they would have otherwise freely given.

  “What?” The word came sharp and short out of Chayton's mouth.

  Waya drew a steady breath, and after an acknowledging glance at Mattias and Leander, said, “My lawyers received a call from Mister Espinosa's office. I'm sorry to say that Mister Espinosa is dead. He, along with the entire staff at Kate's household, were found murdered just before noon today.”