Deception (Tamia Luke)

by Naomi Chase

  “So you killed Isabel so I couldn’t have her?” Sonny demanded furiously.

  “Yes!” Fiona sneered at him, heedless of the revolver pressed to her temple. “The stupid bitch thought I came over to talk about you. When I pulled my gun out, she got scared and tried to run. But she never stood a fucking chance.”

  Tamia stared at Fiona, chilled by her words and the cold, calculating gleam in her eyes. How could she not have known the extent of her sister’s mental illness? Her depravity? How could she have missed all the warning signs? How?

  “I don’t believe this,” Tamia whispered, shaking her head at Fiona. “It wasn’t an accident. You didn’t panic because Isabel threatened to call the police. You went over there to kill her, knowing that I was supposed to meet her that very same night. You murdered her, and you deliberately let me take the fall for it. How could you, Fiona? How could you?”

  Her sister’s gaze was disturbingly calm. “I knew you wouldn’t be convicted—”

  “Bullshit!” Tamia raged. “You knew no such thing! No one knew how the trial was going to turn out! I could have been convicted and sent to prison for the rest of my life. I could have gotten the death penalty, Fiona! But you didn’t give a shit! All you cared about was getting rid of an innocent woman who never did a damn thing to you. I hope you rot in hell for what you did to Isabel!”

  “Because that’s where I belong, right?” Fiona spat, her eyes flashing with bitter resentment. “I’ve always been the fuckup, the black sheep in a family full of black sheep. Mama never expected me to amount to anything, so she never bothered to encourage my dreams. You always thought you were smarter than me just because you went to college, even though you whored yourself out to pay your fucking tuition. You thought you were better than me just because you snagged yourself a rich boyfriend while I was still running around with broke hood rats. When I got in trouble with Marquis, you never let me forget what a stupid mistake I’d made by trusting him. You threw that shit back in my face every chance you got—”

  “I did not!”

  “Did, too! As I recall, I had to check your ass about it earlier this year. So I considered it poetic justice when you turned around and got yourself caught up with Dominic’s mess.”

  “Oh, my God,” Tamia breathed, eyeing her sister incredulously. “So that’s why you set me up? To get back at me for criticizing you?”

  Fiona smirked at her. “You know what they say. What goes around, comes around.”

  Tamia felt sick to her stomach. “You need help.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Sonny interjected darkly.

  Tamia looked at him. “I don’t understand something. If you knew she killed Isabel, why didn’t you come forward sooner?”

  “I didn’t know for sure,” he admitted grimly. “At first I thought Dominic may have killed Isabel because he’d somehow found out about us. She’d always warned me how vindictive he could be, so I knew I couldn’t put anything past him. But my gut instinct told me Fiona had done it. When you got arrested and went on trial, I knew you were protecting her, just like you’d always done when you two were children. But the stakes were much higher this time. So I kept waiting for you to crack under the pressure and tell the truth. But you never did. After you were acquitted, I waited some more to see whether you’d do the right thing and turn your sister over to the police. As you can see”—he dragged the barrel of the gun down to Fiona’s throat—“my patience has worn thin. So I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

  A chill ran through Tamia. “W-What does that mean? What are you planning to do?”

  Sonny met her stricken gaze. “I was a terrible father to you and your sister. I had a nasty temper that caused me to hurt your mother, and I know that our constant fighting traumatized you and Fiona. I’m not proud of my behavior, especially since I know I created a monster. I can’t change the past, so there’s only one thing left for me to do.” As he cocked the trigger, Fiona whimpered fearfully and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Please don’t kill me, Daddy,” she begged.

  Sonny sneered. “Maybe I should have a long time ago. If I’d gotten rid of you back then, your poor grandmother would still be alive.”

  Tamia went completely still, staring at Sonny. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked at her. Even before he opened his mouth to speak, icy foreboding settled over her heart.

  “Your sister was mad at me for breaking another promise to come see her. She wanted to get back at me, so she told your grandmother that I’d been molesting her for years.” Sonny’s expression hardened. “Esther believed her. She went to your mother and urged her to call the police and Child Protective Services, or she’d do it herself. When your mother confronted me about Fiona’s accusations, I went to Fiona and told her to tell the damn truth before the police threw me in jail.”

  “I never wanted that to happen!” Fiona burst out desperately. “I just wanted to get your attention, Daddy. That’s all I ever wanted!”

  “So what happened?” Tamia whispered, her body quaking with fear and dread. “Tell me what happened!”

  Fiona looked at her, her eyes glistening with tears of shame and regret. “I told Mama Esther that I’d made up the whole story about my father, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I was just trying to protect him. She insisted that she was going to call the authorities first thing in the morning.” Fiona shook her head slowly. “I couldn’t let her do that. I couldn’t let them take away my daddy.”

  Tamia stared at her sister with mounting horror. “No,” she whispered. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

  “Late that night, while you and Ma were sleeping, I took Ma’s car keys and snuck out of the house. I was fifteen, remember, and I’d just gotten my learner’s permit. I drove to Mama Esther’s house and parked a few blocks away, like I did that night at Isabel’s.” Silent, mournful tears streamed down Fiona’s face. “I had a baseball bat. Mama Esther was fast asleep in her bed. She ... she never saw me coming.”

  “NO!” Tamia screamed.

  Fiona was trembling violently. “After I h-hit her, I t-took all her money and s-some jewelry so it would look like a r-robbery.” Her face crumpled, and she began weeping uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, Mama Esther... . I’M SO SORRY!”

  With an anguished wail that was wrenched from her soul, Tamia launched herself at her sister—clawing, slapping, and punching Fiona before Sonny grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back.

  Tamia kicked and flailed against him, sobbing hysterically. “She killed our grandmother! Oh, God, she killed Mama Esther!”

  “I know,” Sonny said soothingly. “And she’s going to pay for it.”

  Suddenly the front door crashed open.

  “POLICE!” an authoritative voice boomed. “Nobody move!”

  Tamia watched as several armed police officers rushed into the house.

  Moments later, everything went black.

  Chapter 42

  Tamia

  One week later, Tamia and Brandon sat beside each other on her living room sofa. They were alone in the apartment, since Honey had not yet returned from visiting her family in New Orleans.

  Tamia’s hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of hot chocolate Brandon had brought her. She’d been taking small sips, hoping to chase away the chill that had settled deep into her bones and wouldn’t let go.

  Although an entire week had passed since that harrowing night, she was still struggling to process everything that had happened. Overcome with shock and horror, she’d fainted when the police arrived at the house that evening. When she came to, she’d found herself peering into the concerned faces of Sonny and Brandon, who’d called 911 and rushed over after listening to Tamia’s cryptic voice mail message.

  As it turned out, the police had already been camped outside the house, along with Assistant District Attorney Cal Hartwig. After Tamia regained consciousness, Sonny had explained to her that he’d struck a deal w
ith the D.A.’s office. In exchange for Sonny’s assistance with solving two homicides, the prosecutor had agreed to grant Tamia immunity for concealing the identity of Isabel’s murderer.

  When Sonny showed up at the house on Saturday night, he’d been wearing a wire. He knew Fiona would never willingly confess her crimes to him, so he’d ordered her to call Tamia. Everything had gone according to plan.

  Sonny revealed to Tamia that he’d stayed away for the past ten years because he’d feared that Fiona would maliciously try to implicate him in Mama Esther’s murder. In light of everything Tamia had just learned about her sister, she realized that Sonny had been wise to keep his distance.

  She couldn’t believe that after all these years, she finally knew who’d killed her grandmother. And it was the absolute last person she would have ever imagined.

  After confessing to the two murders, Fiona had waived her right to a jury trial, opting to be tried and sentenced by a judge. She was refusing visitors, and Tamia had made no attempt to go see her. She knew it would be a very long time before she could even think about forgiving Fiona.

  Observing her haunted expression, Brandon said softly, “I’m really sorry about your grandmother.”

  Tamia nodded, staring at the foamy surface of her hot chocolate. “Losing her the first time was devastating enough. Knowing that my own sister killed her ... it’s like losing Mama Esther all over again.”

  Brandon nodded, gently rubbing the nape of her neck. “Have you had any more dreams about her?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. I’ve been waiting all week, hoping to see her and talk to her. But she hasn’t come back. Maybe she doesn’t need to anymore, now that her murder has been solved.”

  “Maybe.”

  In the silence that followed, Tamia reflected on the last dream she’d had. Mama Esther had come to her to warn her of pending trouble. But Tamia now realized that she’d never been in any danger. Her grandmother had summoned her to the house knowing that Sonny had no intention of hurting her.

  “I wish you’d told me the truth about Fiona,” Brandon said quietly, his voice breaking into Tamia’s thoughts.

  Swallowing hard, she risked meeting his gaze. He looked more disappointed than angry.

  “I know I should have been honest with you,” she confessed. “I was genuinely trying to protect Fiona, but it was wrong of me to keep you in the dark. I’m truly sorry.”

  Brandon was silent.

  She remembered what he’d told her the night Dominic showed up at her apartment. If I find out that you’re lying to me about anything—absolutely anything—I promise you there won’t be any second chances.

  A knot of dread tightened in her stomach.

  She was going to lose him. Again.

  She anxiously searched his face. “Do you accept my apology?”

  He hesitated for a long moment, then heaved a deep breath and nodded shortly. “I do.”

  “You do?” Tamia echoed hopefully.

  “Yes.” A small, humorless smile touched his mouth. “I think you’ve gotten so used to keeping secrets, you don’t know any other way to be.”

  Tamia couldn’t deny it, though she desperately wished she could. And judging by Brandon’s disappointed expression, he probably wished the same.

  After a prolonged silence, he asked casually, “Have you heard from Dominic?”

  Caught off guard by the question, Tamia shook her head. “No. Why?”

  Brandon shrugged. “Just curious.”

  In the wake of Fiona’s confession, Dominic had been cleared as a suspect in his wife’s murder. After Tamia dropped the charges against him, he’d been released from prison, where he’d been waiting to stand trial for violating the restraining order. His assets had been unfrozen, and once he collected on Isabel’s multimillion-dollar life insurance policy, he’d be richer than ever.

  Tamia sipped her hot chocolate. “Now that his wife’s killer has been caught, Dominic has no reason to bother me anymore.”

  Brandon gave her a long, dark look. “Don’t be too sure about that.”

  Tamia was silent. She was suddenly remembering something, a fragment of the dream that had been forgotten in all the madness of the past week.

  She looked at Brandon. “Is Cynthia pregnant?”

  Startled, he stared at her. “What?”

  “In the dream I told you about, my grandmother was knitting a baby blanket. She wouldn’t tell me who it was for. She just said I’d know soon enough.” Tamia paused, pulse hammering. “Is Cynthia pregnant?”

  Brandon held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  The bottom dropped out of Tamia’s stomach. “When did you find out?” she whispered.

  He hesitated. “Last Saturday, after we got back from Italy. She told me when I went into the office that she suspected she was pregnant. Her doctor confirmed the results on Wednesday.”

  “I see.” Tamia swallowed painfully. No wonder Cynthia had been all sunshine and smiles at the office this week. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Brandon looked grim. “I was waiting for the right time. You’ve been dealing with a lot this past week.”

  “You’re right,” Tamia said shakily.“I don’t think I could have handled hearing this news before today. I’m not handling it very well right now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brandon murmured.

  “For getting Cynthia pregnant? Or for the decision you’ve already made to be with her?”

  Brandon met her accusing gaze. “I don’t want my child to be raised by a single parent, especially one who’ll be struggling to balance the demands of motherhood with a busy law career.”

  Tamia wanted to tell him that women juggle motherhood and careers all the time. But she knew she’d come off sounding horribly selfish and insensitive. And she knew that she’d want and expect Brandon to marry her if she were carrying his child.

  When all was said and done, the sad truth was that she was still reaping from her treacherous behavior. If she’d never cheated on Brandon, she wouldn’t have opened the door for Cynthia to step into the picture. Ultimately, Tamia had no one but herself to blame for driving Brandon into the arms of another woman.

  Still, she couldn’t help but wonder whether Cynthia was really with child. She certainly wouldn’t be the first woman who’d faked a pregnancy to trap a man into marriage. Mama Esther had been smiling when she’d told Tamia that she would find out soon enough who the baby blanket was for. Would she have smiled when she knew that Cynthia’s pregnancy would devastate Tamia?

  “Are you sure she’s telling the truth?” Tamia blurted.

  Brandon sighed heavily. “Yes. I spoke to her doctor myself.”

  “Oh. I see.” Blinking back tears, Tamia forced a wobbly smile. “Then I guess congratulations are in order. So ... congratulations.”

  Brandon reached over and gently cupped her cheek. “I’ll never forget Italy.”

  “Neither will I,” Tamia whispered achingly.

  They gazed at each other for several moments.

  As Brandon slowly withdrew his hand, Tamia swiped tears from the corners of her eyes and cleared her throat. “Sonny told me about a job opening for an advertising assistant at the construction company he works for. He said he’d put in a good word for me if I’m interested. I think I am.”

  Something like regret flashed in Brandon’s eyes. But he merely nodded.

  “I see that your father’s political opponents wasted no time capitalizing on Fiona’s arrest,” Tamia said cynically. “They ran a spot on TV this morning that referenced your involvement with me—a former porn star and murder defendant whose sister just confessed to killing two people, including her own grandmother. The ad made me and Fiona sound more depraved than the Manson Family.”

  Brandon grimaced, shaking his head in angry disgust. “I’m really sorry you had to see that shit. It had Russ Sutcliffe’s sleazy fingerprints all over it.”

  Tamia waved a dismissive hand. “You
don’t have to be sorry. I understand that politics is a dirty business, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they’d come after me. Let’s face it. I’m a gold mine of scandal.” She sighed heavily.“On the bright side, once they find out that you and I are no longer involved, they’ll have to sling their mud elsewhere.”

  She thought of Joseph Yarbrough’s secret relationship with Honey. She hoped, for Honey’s sake, that Bernard Chambers’s political rivals never caught a whiff of her scandalous affair with the bishop.

  “Brandon?”

  “What, baby?”

  “If we ever meet in another life,” Tamia said softly, “I hope we’ll have less obstacles to overcome to be together.”

  Brandon smiled sadly. “Me too.”

  A heavy silence lapsed between them.

  Reaching a decision, Tamia set her cup down on the table, rose from the sofa, and held out her hand to Brandon. “Come with me,” she whispered.

  He stared at her hand for a long moment, then slowly raised his eyes to hers. She saw his internal struggle, his desire for her warring with the sense of responsibility he felt toward Cynthia and their unborn child.

  Slowly he stood, shaking his head at her. “I shouldn’t.”

  “One more night.” Tamia’s throat tightened with raw emotion. “We’ll make it a long good-bye.”

  Brandon’s expression softened.

  After an agonizing eternity, he took her hand and allowed himself to be led to her bedroom ...

  Chapter 43

  Cynthia

  Cynthia carefully smoothed down the pleated skirt of her white silk dress. It wasn’t the Vera Wang gown she’d already selected for her wedding because, technically, today wasn’t the “big day.” Or at least not the big day she’d always envisioned whenever she’d fantasized about exchanging vows with Brandon.

  The kind of lavish society wedding she wanted—and intended to have—would take months of planning and preparation. Unfortunately, she couldn’t wait that long to get Brandon down the aisle. She’d had a hard enough time convincing him to marry her in a small, intimate ceremony at the justice of the peace. He’d claimed not to want a shotgun wedding, but Cynthia knew better. The only reason he preferred a long engagement was to give himself more time to change his mind. Because as long as Tamia was around, he would always feel torn between doing the right thing and succumbing to temptation.