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On The Edge

Page 6

by Rebecca Deel


  “Thank goodness.” Nic yawned, then turned toward the living room. “I’ll set this by the door while you kiss the handsome prince, Grace.”

  He shook his head, amusement in his gaze. “A prince?”

  “Don’t forget the description of said prince, one I happen to agree with.” Although to Grace’s mind, calling Trent handsome was an understated description. Her boyfriend was drop-dead gorgeous.

  “If your suitcase is ready, I’ll take it to the door.”

  “Thanks.”

  Trent glanced at Grace. “Go get some coffee, babe. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She brushed his mouth with a soft kiss and made her way to the kitchen. To her surprise, Mason Kincaid was sitting at the breakfast bar beside his cousin. “Good morning, Rio, Mason.” She eyed the construction worker. “What are you doing here so early?” Had he come to see Nic?

  “I’m going with you to Dumas.”

  Nicole’s head whipped around, her eyes wide.

  Trent walked into the room, stopped. “Mase. What’s going on?”

  Rio circled the breakfast bar, headed to the coffee pot. “Mase is going with you, Trent.”

  “Why?”

  The medic glanced at him. “You need someone to spell you on night watch. We have a new class of bodyguard trainees starting today or I’d go with you.”

  Trent shook his head. “No way. Darcy doesn’t sleep well when you’re out of town. I’m not going to be the reason my sister looks like she’s sleepwalking.”

  “Then take Mason. He’s helped Durango keep watch a few times over the last year. He’ll provide enough security for you to sleep a few hours. He’ll alert you if there’s a problem. He knows what to look for and you can trust him to have your back.”

  The SEAL stared at Mason a moment. “You can work things out to be out of town?”

  The cheeks of the construction worker darkened. “I got clearance, Trent. I’ll need to check in every day and keep to the same guidelines.”

  Grace’s brow furrowed. What was going on? There was enough subtext in the conversation to choke a horse. Nicole glanced at her, unasked questions in her gaze.

  She shook her head. Grace poured coffee into a mug and took a sip. Perfect. Hopefully, the caffeine would wake up her brain cells.

  “I don’t know, Mase,” Trent said. “I’m not sure if this visit to Dumas is related to Grace’s accident and Nicole’s break in. If it is, things could escalate.”

  “You need another pair of eyes.” His gaze shifted to Nicole. “I want to help.”

  Another few seconds of silence, then Trent said, “I appreciate the backup, Mase.”

  Mason’s shoulders relaxed. “My bag is in my truck.”

  Grace had to admit having Mason come along made her feel better. Oh, she trusted Trent, knew he was very well trained for whatever emergency might arise. She’d been around him and his friends enough to know he’d be on constant alert unless someone he trusted helped protect her and Nicole. Plus, based on the way Nicole’s face lit up when she realized Mason was going along, her friend was in favor of the plan. If they had more time, maybe a romance would bloom.

  “It’s settled, then.” Rio placed his empty mug in the dishwasher. “Now I can report to the love of my life that you have someone she trusts watching your back. I have to go. Call if you need us, Trent.”

  Trent saluted.

  Rio chuckled. “Darcy left breakfast for you in the refrigerator. See you in a few days.” He strode out the back door.

  Trent opened the refrigerator. “We need to leave soon. I already have the route mapped including places to stop and let Grace walk.”

  “I feel pretty good today,” Grace said. In fact, today was the first time she didn’t have a headache since the accident.

  “You won’t feel good if we drive straight through, baby. You’ll be sore if we don’t stop.”

  “Don’t argue with the man.” Nicole refilled her coffee cup. “His mind is already made up.”

  Grace held up her hand. “I’m not arguing. He’s right.”

  Her boyfriend’s coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You’re right. I will be stiff if I sit for three hours without getting out to walk. Don’t let it go to your head, St. Claire.”

  “Of course not, sweetheart.” The SEAL grabbed a large platter of pancakes from the refrigerator and placed it on the table along with a bottle of maple syrup.

  While consuming the pancakes, she couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead in Dumas. Did the summons by the law firm have something to do with the trouble trailing her and Nicole? If so, Trent and Mason would be in the center of a firestorm.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Trent opened the passenger door and held out his hand to Grace. “We made good time. We have a few minutes to walk around.”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m too anxious.”

  “Me, too,” Nicole said. “Maybe the lawyer will see us early. The wait is driving me crazy.”

  Trent and Mason exchanged glances. His friend’s lips twitched. Yeah, Trent agreed. Any time he dealt with a lawyer, he waited beyond his appointment time.

  They escorted the women into a brick two-story building. In the lobby, a receptionist directed them to the second floor to the offices of Washington, Randall, and Satterfield where an administrative assistant indicated for them to sit in the waiting area. Ten o’clock came and went.

  Thirty minutes beyond the appointment time, an outer door opened and a tall, slender man with a scowl on his face stalked inside. He glanced their direction, then turned his back on them. Following a low-voiced conversation with the assistant, he dropped into a seat on the opposite side of the room from Trent and the others.

  Five minutes later, an office door swung open to reveal a man around sixty, dressed in a dark gray pinstriped suit. “If you all will come with me, please.”

  Interesting. The other man was also involved in whatever was going on. Inside the room, the lawyer had chairs ready for each of them.

  “Please, be seated. I’m Simon Randall. Ladies, thank you for coming to Dumas to meet with me.”

  “What’s this about, Randall?” the blond man asked. “Who are these people?”

  “All in good time, Mr. Bowen.” Randall held out his hand to Trent. “Simon Randall.”

  “Trent St. Claire. This is Grace Rutledge. Beside her is Nicole Copeland and Mason Kincaid.”

  “Get on with it, Randall,” the other man snapped. “I have an appointment with my tailor. I don’t want to be late. He’s booked solid for two months.”

  His tailor? Trent’s lip curled. He visited a tailor to have a jacket fitted so his weapon wouldn’t show. Other than that, he didn’t spend time with men who wielded sharp needles and scissors like he handled his Ka-bar and Sig. Though he had stitched himself up on the battlefield when necessary, he preferred to avoid needles when possible.

  Randall’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course.” To the others, he said, “This is Devin Bowen.”

  “Fine. Now you’ve fulfilled your obligation to society by displaying good manners,” Bowen said. “Why am I here?”

  “Be patient, Mr. Bowen, and you’ll find out why you’re present.” Randall turned his attention to Grace and Nicole. “I suppose I’d better start from the beginning.”

  He turned his gaze toward Bowen. “Hold your questions until I finish my explanation. I’ll answer what I can.”

  Bowen motioned for him to continue.

  “Twenty-nine years ago, a woman named Gayle Bowen was the victim of rape.”

  Bowen surged to his feet. “What are you doing, Randall? These people are strangers. You have no business discussing my mother’s past with them.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Bowen. All will be clear in a moment.”

  Gayle Bowen? Trent frowned. She founded G & N Chemicals, a billion dollar company. What did she have to do with Grace and Nicole?

  Once Devin
sat, a scowl on his face, Randall continued. “Understandably, Mrs. Bowen, known as Gayle West at the time, wanted her assault kept quiet. She didn’t want to be the center of attention any more than she already was. Her father was a wealthy and powerful man in this city.”

  “Did the police find the rapist?” Trent asked.

  “Unfortunately, they did not.”

  “What does this have to do with us?” Grace asked.

  “Mrs. Bowen became pregnant as a result of the rape.”

  Oh, man. Trent glanced at his girlfriend. He could guess where this was headed. Nothing else explained why Grace and Nicole were here. He reached over and gripped Grace’s hand. Her skin was cold.

  “What are you talking about?” Bowen frowned. “Mother never mentioned having a child before me. Did she terminate the pregnancy?”

  Randall shook his head. “She carried to term. However, she didn’t want to be reminded of the rape when she saw their faces every day so she gave the babies up for adoption.”

  And there it was. Trent’s grip tightened around Grace’s hand. “Mrs. Bowen had more than one child?”

  “Twin girls. Fraternal twins.”

  Explained why Grace and Nicole looked similar but not carbon copies of each other. They were sisters.

  “But why are we here?” Nicole asked.

  “You and Ms. Rutledge are Mrs. Bowen’s daughters.”

  “No way!” Bowen’s hands fisted. “You can’t be serious. How do we know these are the same girls? I demand a DNA test to confirm their claim.”

  “Mr. Bowen, I assure you these young ladies are your half-sisters. Though she didn’t want to be part of their lives, your mother kept track of the girls, making sure they were adopted into good homes.”

  “Nicole and Grace’s birth mother watched over them from a distance?” Mason sounded skeptical. “Why do that if she didn’t want anything to do with them?”

  “Although Mrs. Bowen didn’t want to be reminded about the assault, that didn’t mean she wasn’t concerned about their wellbeing. She also didn’t want the knowledge of the circumstances of their conception to damage them.”

  “I’m sorry for the trauma Mrs. Bowen suffered,” Grace said. “Why are we here, Mr. Randall?”

  “Mrs. Bowen passed away three months ago. She set aside provisions for you and your sister in her will.”

  Grace and Nicole exchanged glances as Bowen once again leaped to his feet.

  Trent watched him as did Mason.

  “This is insane.” Bowen stabbed a finger in the lawyer’s direction. “Why didn’t you mention this when you read the will after she died?”

  “I’m bound by your mother’s wishes. She wanted you to have ninety days to deal with the emotional and financial turmoil in the aftermath of her death before I contacted Ms. Rutledge and Ms. Copeland.”

  “What did she leave them?”

  “Five million dollars each.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Grace snuggled deeper into the leather of the SUV’s passenger seat as she tried to process the announcement from the lawyer. Slim chance of that happening. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the staggering amount of money her birth mother had left for her and Nicole. The woman had given them up for adoption yet set aside a chunk of money to be delivered to them upon her death. Why bother making provisions if she turned her back on them?

  Faced with the same circumstances, Grace wasn’t sure what she would have done. If nothing else, she was grateful her birth mother decided to have her and Nicole. They both had good lives and, in a twist of fate, had met and become friends.

  One bright spot in this bizarre situation? Learning Nicole was her sister. Maybe that’s why she and Nic bonded so fast in college. So strange that both of them attended the same college and ended up best friends.

  They had both been scholarship recipients. The current circumstances made her wonder if the scholarships were simply the result of their hard work in high school after all. Was is possible Mrs. Bowen provided the money for college for her daughters? Something to ask Mr. Randall tomorrow.

  “You okay, baby?” Trent threaded his fingers through hers.

  “I suppose.”

  “You don’t sound convincing.”

  “I understand,” Nicole said. “I’m not sure how I feel about all this. Discovering Grace and I are related is amazing, but I wish I didn’t know the rest of the information.”

  No kidding. Knowing their conception was caused by a physical assault was difficult. Grace had worked with sexual assault victims at the hospital. Their devastation and sorrow had always affected her deeply. She’d never again see another rape victim without thinking of her birth mother.

  “Did you two know each other before college?” Mason asked.

  Nicole shook her head. “Grace and I met in general education classes and became fast friends. We thought our birthdays being on the same day was a coincidence.”

  Grace gave a soft laugh. “Now we understand why people thought we were related.”

  “I noticed the resemblance the minute I saw you together at the house,” Trent said.

  “Same here. What will you do with the money, Nicole?” Mason asked.

  “I don’t really want it.”

  “According to the lawyer, you have to take the money. What you do with it is up to you.”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder, noted that Nic looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “The money seems tainted to me.”

  “Blood money,” Nicole said.

  “Exactly. Devin certainly wasn’t happy about his mother’s gift to us, either.”

  “Can’t blame him. He thought he was the sole heir to his family’s fortune and we just lightened his bank account by a cool $10 million.”

  Trent snort. “I doubt he’ll miss the money. My guess is his mother set aside the funds soon after you were born.”

  “Out of sight, out of mind?” Grace asked.

  He inclined his head, sympathy in his gaze.

  “Just like us.” Nicole sighed.

  Feelings of rejection and being unloved resurfaced. No, Grace told herself. She’d put those feelings to rest a long time ago. She couldn’t let them have a foothold now. Those feelings colored everything she said, did, or thought if she didn’t squash them like a bug.

  Besides, Susan and Greg Rutledge couldn’t have loved her any more even if she’d been their biological daughter. Grace had been doted on and treated like a princess.

  She sighed. Oh, goodness. She needed to tell her parents about Gayle Bowen and the money. If the news media got wind of this before she told them, her parents would be hurt. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “Devin won’t miss what was never in the main account.” Trent glanced at Grace. “Do you recognize the Bowen name, babe?”

  “Not really.” Though she’d heard the name mentioned in the news, she didn’t remember the connection.

  “Mrs. Bowen founded G & N Chemicals.”

  “Are you sure?” Nicole whispered.

  “Positive. I’ll have a friend verify the information if you want.”

  “Zane?” This from Grace.

  “He can unearth anything although an Internet search of G & N’s website would confirm the founder’s name.”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder at her sister, received a nod. “Call him. I think learning as much as we can about the Bowen family might be wise.”

  “People can be intense when it comes to money, especially that much.” Mason sat forward. “Do you still believe Nicole’s break-in and Grace’s accident are related to their Dumas visit?”

  Trent lifted one shoulder. “Not sure, but I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “How could the incidents be related?” Grace stared at him. “No one knew about the bequest.”

  “The lawyer knew and so did his staff. As much as secrecy is part of their work, I wouldn’t be surprised if word leaked.”

  “What about Devin?”

  “He has more
to lose than anyone else. People have killed for much less than $10 million.”

  His theory didn’t make Grace feel better. In fact, Trent’s words made her wonder how good an actor Devin Bowen was.

  Trent squeezed her hand, then called Zane.

  A moment later, the tech guru answered his phone. “Murphy.”

  “It’s Trent. You’re on speaker. I need a favor.”

  “Perfect timing. I was going to call you. What do you need?”

  “All the information you can dig up on Gayle Bowen of G & N Chemicals as well as her family. I need to know everything, Z. Finances, enemies, friends, future plans, the works.”

  “This have anything to do with Grace?”

  “Oh, yeah. Grace and her friend Nicole Copeland are Mrs. Bowen’s biological daughters. They were given up at birth.”

  A soft whistle from Zane. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “You said you were going to call me. What’s up?”

  “The Knoxville police have processed the truck.”

  Grace twisted in her seat to look at Trent. Could this be the break they needed? If the police found fingerprints, they could identify the person who forced her off the road.

  “And?” Trent prompted.

  “The vehicle was wiped clean. No prints inside the truck and nothing on the driver’s door or handle. They found paint transfer that probably came from Grace’s car so they can prove the truck was involved in the hit-and-run, but that’s all.”

  Her boyfriend blew out a breath, frustration evident on his face. “So the cops have nothing.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  Disappointment spiraled through Grace. She’d wanted a quick end to the danger. Looked like that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

  “Did you have a chance to check hotels in the area?” Trent asked.

  “You have a suite reserved at the Westbridge Hotel. Need an address?”

  “I saw it on the way through town. Thanks, Z.”

  “Yep. Is Grace with you?”

  “I’m here, Zane,” she said.

  “Are you all right, sugar?”

  Was she? Grace didn’t know how to answer the mysterious Zane Murphy. Physically, she was healing. Her heart, however, was bruised. Thinking of Gayle Bowen made her heart hurt. “It’s a lot to process.” Though the words didn’t really answer his question, she spoke the truth. “I’m glad Trent is home.”

 

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