“Ha!” Leslie Anne smiled, spreading her arms wide in a phony pose. “Of course, that’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “Instant cure. Find me a stepdaddy with whom I can bond. That’s all I’ll need to forget the fact that some psychopath’s blood flows through my veins, that I could possibly have inherited his demonic need to kill.” She walked up to the doctor, stood on tiptoe and got right in his face. “Maybe I’ll start by killing you. Doesn’t that worry you?”
His ruddy face paled. Despite the fact that she was crying inside, screaming with pain and humiliation, she laughed. Dr. Barrett wasn’t as unaffected by her threat as he tried to pretend, even though he managed to maintain his composure.
“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped,” he told her in a calm voice. “Your mother desperately wanted help. Apparently you’re not ready. Not yet.”
“I’m ready for you to leave me the hell alone.” With her chin tilted, her gaze defiant, she stood her ground.
“If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
“Very well. Why don’t I walk you back to the house and we can tell your mother how you feel about therapy? That you’re not ready to begin sessions with me. Not yet.”
“Why don’t you tell her yourself? And while you’re at it—tell her I want everybody to leave me alone. And I mean everybody!” Feeling an overwhelming need to escape, Leslie Anne turned and fled.
“Leslie Anne!”
Dr. Barrett kept calling her name, but she didn’t pause in her flight, didn’t look back. She kept running down the path, hurrying away from the doctor and from her home and family, running from a truth too horrible to bear. But where was she going? What was her destination? She didn’t know, didn’t care.
By the time she realized which pathway she’d taken, she had reached the river. Winded and perspiring, she skidded to a halt near the edge of the embankment that overlooked the dark, lazily flowing waters of the mighty Mississippi. Gazing down, over the tops of the brush that clung tenaciously to the jagged, sloping earth, she suddenly wondered why she shouldn’t jump. If she threw herself over the edge, into the river, all her problems would be solved. She wouldn’t have to deal with the knowledge that Eddie Jay Nealy was her father. Not now. Not ever.
“Are you thinking about jumping?” a familiar male voice asked.
Leslie Anne gasped, then whirled around to face Tad Sizemore. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing really,” he replied, a silly grin on his much-too-pretty face. “Jump if you’d like. But you should know that if you do jump, there’s a very good chance you’ll break your fool neck.”
“Is that so? Well, maybe I want to break my fool neck. Did you ever think of that?”
“Now, tell me, princess-of-all-she-surveys, why would you want to kill yourself?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to kill myself.”
“Sugar, if you break your neck, it’ll more than likely kill you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Why don’t you go away and leave me alone? What are you doing out here anyway?”
“Mother and I are having lunch with G.W. today,” Tad said. “I’m early because I stopped by the airstrip to pick up your aunt Sharon and give her a ride home. Mother will arrive shortly, so there’s no point in my leaving and returning later. But I did feel that I might be in the way up at the house, so I decided to take a leisurely walk and not butt in while your aunt informs the family she’s returned.”
“How considerate of you.”
“Hmm. They’re probably talking about you, you know. You certainly upset the household when you ran off the way you did. I’m curious. Whatever possessed you to run away? You’ve got the world by the tail, little girl. Old G.W. dotes on you. He’d cut off his right arm for you. And you seem to be the beginning and end of your mommy dearest’s whole world.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you, Tad?” Well, she didn’t care if he hated her. She certainly despised him and his butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth mother.
“Other than the fact that you’re G.W.’s heir, you really aren’t even a blip on my radar screen. But you and your mother are definitely thorns in Mother’s side. She’s bent over backward to make you two like her and yet—”
“Your mother doesn’t care anything about Granddaddy. All she’s interested in is his money.”
“Words straight out of Tessa Westbrook’s mouth. But then you are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you? A spoiled little rich girl who snaps her fingers and gets whatever she wants.”
“And you’re your mother’s son,” Leslie Anne retaliated. “Blood-sucking leeches, the both of you.”
Tad’s face reddened and for just a moment, Leslie Anne thought he might hit her. Instead, he laughed.
“Heredity is a bitch, isn’t it, kid? We don’t get to choose our mommies and daddies, but we have to spend our entire lives trying to overcome their influence.”
What did he mean by that? Did he know about Eddie Jay Nealy? Had Tad learned about who her biological father was from somebody in the family? Had Granddaddy told Olivia?
“Who told you?” she demanded.
“Who told me what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know about my father, don’t you? Did Granddaddy tell Olivia and then she told you? Did you two get a big laugh at my expense? G.W.’s precious little princess is the devil’s daughter. Bet you found that funny.”
She hated Tad. She hated Olivia. And she hated Granddaddy, too!
“The devil’s daughter?” Tad laughed.
Leslie Anne reached out and slapped him, then gasped and jerked her hand away. What had she done? Rage boiled inside her. Murderous rage?
“Why you little minx.” Tad rubbed his cheek. “You’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? I’d say you need the same thing I needed growing up—a father who’d put you over his knee and give you a good walloping.”
Horrified as much by the fact that she’d hit him, that she had reacted violently, as by his comment about her needing a father to beat her, Leslie Anne ran past Tad, back up the path toward the garden area. With tears blinding her, she couldn’t see where she was going. But she didn’t care. God, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
TESSA STOOD in the shadows of the arbor and watched her father and Olivia in the gazebo. That woman had no shame. She’d chased G.W. unmercifully, calling him five times a day, dropping by the house unexpectedly several times a week, arranging to be invited to every social occasion where she knew he would be. She’d worn him down, little by little, and all with Aunt Myrle’s help. Didn’t her mother’s sister see Olivia Sizemore for the gold digger she was? The woman had been married four times. She’d buried two husbands and divorced two. And she seemed damned and determined to make G.W. number five.
Over my dead body, Tessa thought.
It wasn’t that she objected to her father dating. He’d kept company with several very suitable ladies since her mother had died over thirteen years ago. If he wanted to remarry, why hadn’t he chosen someone halfway worthy of him? Olivia might have been Aunt Myrle’s sorority sister, but she certainly wasn’t the same type of woman. She wore too much makeup, dyed her hair that hideous red to cover the gray, laughed too loud and talked like a magpie.
Tessa crept closer, wanting to hear what Olivia was saying to her father. She didn’t trust that money-hungry floozy any further than she could throw her. If she didn’t protect her father from the woman, then who would?
“Oh, G.W., I do wish you wouldn’t fret so about that child.” Olivia forked her fingers up the back of G.W.’s neck in a playful, petting gesture. “Children will act up from time to time. They all do. Even my darling Tad sowed a few wild oats.”
“You don’t understand,” G.W. said.
“Then tell me, sugar. Explain what’s going on. Maybe I can help.” She nuzzled his neck as she laced her arm through his and cuddled against him. “You know little old m
e would do just about anything for you.”
Oh, God, Daddy, don’t tell her! Tessa said silently, praying her father had better sense than to divulge a family secret to Olivia.
G.W. wrapped his arm around Olivia’s tiny waist. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s a family matter.”
“I’m practically family, aren’t I?” The woman cooed the words.
Tessa thought she might throw up.
“Now, Olivia, honey, we’ve discussed this before and—”
“I don’t know why Tessa and Leslie Anne don’t like me,” Olivia whined. “I just adore both of them and I’ve done everything I know to do to make them like me. Thank goodness my Tad thinks the world of you. Why he said to me only this morning how he surely did wish G. W. Westbrook was his daddy.”
G.W. chuckled. “Did he now?”
Oh, get real. Daddy, you’ve got to know what a lie that is. Tessa inched closer and closer to the gazebo, hiding behind a massive live oak tree and staying just out of sight from the gazebo’s two occupants.
“A man like you should have had a son,” Olivia said. “Someone to carry on the Westbrook name and take over the reins of Westbrook, Inc.” Using the tip of her finger, she caressed G.W.’s lips, then pulled his bottom lip down and stuck her finger in his mouth. “If we got married, I know Tad would gladly let you adopt him and legally change his name to Westbrook.”
“I’m sure he would,” G.W. said, then bit down on Olivia’s finger.
She yelped and jerked her finger away. “You naughty boy you.”
He grasped her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “I’m not ready for marriage. Not to you or anyone else. And although I appreciate the fact that Tad would very much like to be my son, he’s not. As for carrying on the Westbrook name—I have a daughter and a granddaughter who carry that name. And as for Westbrook, Inc., Tessa has already proven she’s more than capable of taking over when I’m gone.”
Good for you, Daddy. That’s telling her! Tessa felt like jumping for joy.
“Eavesdropping?” Sharon Westbrook whispered as she sneaked up behind Tessa.
Tessa gasped. “My God, Aunt Sharon, you scared me half to death.” Tessa turned around, grabbed her aunt and hugged her. “When did you get home?”
“Just a little while ago. Olivia’s darling boy, Tad, picked me up at the airstrip and brought me home. When did she arrive?”
“About five minutes ago. She’s a couple of hours early for lunch.” Tessa gave her aunt a condemning look. “Tad’s bad news. He’s just like his mother, out for whatever he can get.”
“Give me some credit, Tessa. I know what that beautiful boy is all about.” She nodded toward the gazebo. “And G.W.’s got Olivia’s number. He just enjoys screwing her. He’s not going to marry her.”
“Aunt Sharon, you’re outrageous.”
G.W. cocked his head to one side and looked out toward the big live oak. “Is somebody out there?”
“We’ve been caught,” Sharon said.
“It’s just us, Daddy,” Tessa called to him. “Aunt Sharon’s home.”
“Well, come on up and say hello to Olivia.”
Sharon laced her arm through Tessa’s. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go face the enemy.”
Tessa laughed.
When they entered the gazebo, Olivia reached out and hugged Sharon first and then Tessa, before Tessa could sidestep her grasp.
“How’s our little Leslie Anne?” Olivia asked. “She will be joining us for lunch, won’t she?
“Leslie Anne’s fine,” G.W. replied.
“I’m not sure she’ll be joining us,” Tessa said. “She’s rather tired after her…er, her adventure.”
Lowering her voice and putting a concerned look on her face, Olivia asked, “Did she ever tell y’all why she ran away?”
Silence. Loud, profound silence.
How could they answer such a direct question? Tessa wondered. Why Leslie Anne ran away was none of this nosy woman’s business.
“She did it on a dare,” Sharon said, in a matter-of-fact way that brooked no doubt.
“On a dare?” Olivia’s hazel eyes widened quizzically.
“You know how teenagers are.” Sharon offered the woman her most sincere smile. “One of her friends dared her to run away from home and our bold Leslie Anne accepted the challenge.”
“Is that right?” Olivia forced a smile, obviously uncertain whether Sharon was lying or telling the truth. “It’s unfortunate that her adventure almost ended in tragedy. G.W. told me that the poor child was almost raped.”
“Daddy!”
“Oh, Tessa, don’t scold him,” Olivia said. “Your father was overwrought early this morning when y’all brought Leslie Anne home. He needed someone to talk to, didn’t he? And after all, I am practically family.”
“Where is my favorite great-niece?” Sharon asked, apparently hoping to prevent a scene between Tessa and Olivia.
“She’s taking a walk,” Tessa replied, then looked directly at her father. “She was walking with a friend who came for a visit earlier. He stopped by and spoke to me before leaving. It seems he and Leslie Anne had a little misunderstanding, but he said he’d be back to see her another day.”
“Oh, how sweet. A lover’s quarrel.” Olivia stayed cuddled against G.W.
The woman’s an idiot, Tessa thought.
G.W. huffed loudly. “Sharon, why don’t you and Olivia go to the house and check on lunch. Tell Eustacia to set another place for you.”
“I believe we’ve been dismissed,” Sharon said. “Come on, Olivia, let’s leave father and daughter alone to talk about us.”
Flustered by Sharon’s comment, Olivia nevertheless did as she’d been told. She kissed G.W. on the cheek and then went with Sharon toward the house. As soon as they were out of earshot, G.W. turned to Tessa.
“Did Leslie Anne refuse to cooperate with Arthur?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, she most certainly did. Not only did she tell him to leave her alone, she even made some silly comment about killing him.”
“What?”
“He didn’t take her seriously. He’s quite certain she said it to shock him.”
“She’s got it in her head that she has some sort of evil inside her,” G.W. said. “We’ve got to get that ridiculous notion out of her head, prove to her that she’s still the same wonderful girl she’s always been, that—”
“If I could get my hands on the person who sent her that letter and those newspaper clippings, I just might be capable of murder myself,” Tessa told her father. “Whoever did it has done irrevocable harm to my child. She’ll never think of herself the same way she once did, not ever again.”
“Mr. Moran and the Dundee agency will find this person and when they do, I’ll make certain they regret hurting my family. Nobody crosses G. W. Westbrook without paying a stiff penalty. Dante Moran is the type who understands a man doing what must be done.”
“I should tell you now that Mr. Moran is going to send another agent out here to the house. He plans to take charge of the actual investigation and work in the field.”
“What happened?” G.W. grabbed Tessa’s arm. “Why is he sending someone else to work directly with us? Leslie Anne likes Dante. She trusts him.”
“I’m sure Mr. Moran has his reasons. After all, he is the professional, isn’t he? He knows best.”
G.W. nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”
Tessa could hardly tell her father the real reason Dante wouldn’t be coming back to the Leslie Plantation. G.W. might like Dante, but she wasn’t sure he’d approve of him as his daughter’s lover.
DANTE CAUGHT a glimpse of Leslie Anne as he headed toward the rental car Lucie and Dom had left for him. She was halfway up the long, winding driveway. Where was she going? he wondered. Maybe he should say goodbye to her before he left. After all, it wasn’t likely that he would see her again anytime soon. Probably not until they’d discovered the identity of the person who’d made sure she knew t
he truth about her paternity.
“Hey there,” he called to her as he waved. “Leslie Anne!”
She stopped suddenly and turned around. When she saw him, she threw up her hand and waved back at him. “You headed somewhere?” she asked.
Increasing his pace to a fast walk, he caught up with her in a couple of minutes. As he looked at her, he was once again reminded of her uncanny resemblance to Amy. “I’m going into town for a meeting with the other Dundee agents,” he told her. “We have to plot a strategy for finding the person who sent you those newspaper clippings.”
“What difference does it make?” She shrugged. “Whoever it is, he—or she—did me a favor. They told me the truth when my own mother and grandfather wouldn’t.”
“Don’t be so hard on Tessa and G.W. You know they lied to you to protect you.”
“You wouldn’t lie to your kid, if you had one,” she told him with great certainty.
“I’m not so sure about that. If I had a kid, I don’t know what I’d do, what lengths I’d go to or what lies I’d tell, if I believed it would protect her from something that could cause her great harm.”
“Yeah, I guess finding out your father raped, tortured and killed dozens of women could cause a girl a lot of harm, couldn’t it?”
When he looked at Leslie Anne, he saw Amy. Amy, young and beautiful and alive. As hard as he tried to shake the notion that there was some connection between Leslie Anne and Amy, he couldn’t. Logic dictated that there had to be a reason, other than coincidence. If Amy died seventeen years ago, she couldn’t have given birth to a child sixteen years ago. And if by some miracle Amy was still alive somewhere and she’d had a baby, it wasn’t possible that Leslie Anne was that baby. Not unless Tessa was lying about being Leslie Anne’s mother.
Maybe Tessa doesn’t know the truth. Maybe Tessa’s baby died at birth and G.W. arranged to swap babies. Or maybe the hospital switched babies.
You’re doing it again, Dante told himself. You’re creating impossible scenarios. Ridiculous scenarios. None of it makes sense.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Leslie Anne asked.
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