Dangerous Deception

by Beverly Barton

  “How is pretending that I’m the primary suspect, who is on the verge of being arrested for the murders, going to smoke out the real killer?”

  Silence. Deafening silence.

  Dom almost shouted, Don’t agree to Desmond’s plan. Don’t put your life on the line. But he had to let her do whatever she wanted to do. Besides, they all knew that her life was already in danger and probably would be until the killer was apprehended.

  Lausanne glanced from Lieutenant Desmond to his partner, Sergeant Swain, then to Dom. “I’m not going to like the answer, am I?”

  “Lieutenant Desmond has come up with a plan to capture the real killer,” Dom said.

  “What sort of plan?” she asked.

  “I’m going to speak to the Bedell family later today and tell them about Megan Reynolds being killed and explain that we arrested you for leaving the country.” Desmond’s gaze met Dom’s and the two exchanged a knowing look. “I want the killer to draw a free breath. I’m going to imply that we suspect you might have killed Megan Reynolds for whatever reason, but there’s nothing we can do about it. However, we’re close to charging you with the murders of Audrey and Bobby Jack.”

  Lausanne couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Dom explained about Megan Reynolds’s letter and about her hiring a lawyer in Buenos Aires,” Desmond said. “If she was murdered to prevent her from writing that letter, then whoever was behind her murder and the murders of Audrey and Bobby Jack knew she would name him or her as the killer.”

  “And?” Lausanne asked.

  “And tomorrow morning, we want you to make three telephone calls,” Desmond told her. “To Grayson Perkins, Patrice Bedell and Cara Bedell. We want you to tell each of them that you have received a letter that was overnighted from Argentina. Tell each that you think he or she will be very interested in the information the letter contains. Then before they can reply, hang up. And don’t answer your phone. Not until we tell you to.”

  Lausanne sat there quietly for several minutes. Dom tightened his hold on her. She lifted her right hand and patted his left hand clamped to her shoulder.

  “You want to use me as bait.” She glanced away from Desmond and up at Dom. “Do you think I should do it?”

  “Do I want you to put yourself in the line of fire—no. I want to take you as far away from all of this as I possibly can. But this is your decision and I’ll stand by you, whatever you decide.”

  Lausanne took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

  Dom’s muscles froze and his gut tightened. He’d been pretty sure she would agree to Desmond’s plan, but hearing her say it out loud made it all too real.

  “Thank you, Ms. Raney,” Desmond said. “For now, we’ll follow through on your arrest. We’ve already arranged bail for you and you’ll be able to leave with Mr. Shea shortly. Stay with him from now until in the morning.” Desmond glanced at Dom. “Y’all have a reserved room at the Chattanoogan Hotel, under the name Sawyer McNamara. I don’t want Ms. Raney going to her apartment and I figure if anyone is looking for her, an expensive place like the Chattanoogan will be one of the last places they’d look.”

  “The fewer people who know where you are, the safer you’ll be,” Sergeant Swain said to Lausanne. “Once we get everything set up, we’ll come to the hotel in the morning and monitor your phone calls to the suspects, then wait and see if one of them takes the bait.”

  “If one of them does, they may want to come to you,” Desmond said. “But my guess is that he or she will want you to meet them. If that happens, we’ll send you out to hook up with them at their chosen rendezvous point. Naturally, you’ll be wired. And you’ll be under constant surveillance.”

  She looked at Dom. “Will you be with me?”

  “He’ll be with us,” Desmond replied. “You’ll have to go in alone. And I won’t lie to you—there is an element of risk involved.”

  “You know what, Lieutenant? I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

  “Yeah, it seems you are, Ms. Raney.”

  JEREMY LOMAN MET Bain at the door and escorted him into the living room at the Bedell mansion. “Mr. Bedell is expecting you.”

  Glancing around at all the opulence surrounding him in this big, old mansion, Bain wondered why in the world anybody would need a twenty-five room house and an eight-car garage. Because need and want wasn’t the same thing. Rich people wanted everything and more. They wanted the best their money could buy.

  Loman opened the double pocket doors and announced, “Lieutenant Desmond is here.”

  Scanning the room quickly, he noticed Patrice Bedell sitting in a chair by the massive fireplace, perched there like a queen on her throne. She was an attractive woman, but a little too phony for Bain’s tastes. Grayson Perkins sat on the sofa. Cara Bedell stood behind him, her hand resting on the sofa back, almost touching Perkins’s shoulder.

  What did she see in a guy like Perkins? Yes, he was handsome—too handsome—in a rather effeminate way. During the course of the investigation into the two homicides, Bain had learned a great deal about Grayson Perkins. The man possessed some business savvy, but was lost in the corporate world without his father-in-law to guide him, step-by-step. The guy spent a fortune on his clothes, got a weekly haircut and manicure and even indulged in frequent massages and body wraps. He drove an expensive sports car and the jewelry he wore—watch and rings—cost more than Bain’s yearly salary. From what they’d learned about Audrey Perkins’s husband, Bain’s assessment of the guy could be summed up in two words: weak and useless.

  Edward Bedell approached Bain, his big hand outstretched. They shook hands, then Edward said, “When you telephoned, you said you had news for us about Audrey’s murder.”

  Bain nodded, then casually glanced around the room. He needed to make a quick study of each face after he gave them the news about Megan Reynolds and even more so when he suggested that the police might be on the verge of making an arrest in the double homicide case.

  His gaze lingered on Cara Bedell. She wasn’t the beauty her sister had been, but he sensed a strength in her that impressed him. The investigation into her life had surprised him. While Audrey had spent her time as a social butterfly and an adulterous wife flitting from one man to another, Cara Bedell actually worked. At twenty-four, she was a vice president in her father’s company; and word at Bedell, Inc. headquarters was that when the old man retired she would be first in line to take over as CEO.

  “Please, Lieutenant, if you have news for us, then don’t hesitate to tell us,” Cara said. “No matter how unpleasant your news might be, it can’t be any worse than our learning about what happened to Audrey.”

  “Straight to the point, Ms. Bedell,” Bain said. “All right. We received word that Megan Reynolds has been located in Buenos Aires.”

  A hushed silence fell over the room.

  “Well, you can tell her that she’s fired,” Edward said.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Bain told them.

  “Why not?” Cara asked, her gaze connecting with Bain’s.

  Some weird sort of current passed between Cara and him and for half a second, he couldn’t think straight. Mentally shaking himself free of whatever had happened, he cleared his throat and looked directly at Edward Bedell.

  “Ms. Reynolds is dead.”

  Patrice’s mouth gaped. Cara’s eyes widened.

  “Dead,” Edward whispered the word. “What happened to her?”

  “According to the Buenos Aires police officer I spoke to earlier today, Ms. Reynolds was strangled in her hotel room.”

  “Who would want to kill Megan?” Cara asked.

  Bain realized that he didn’t want Cara Bedell to be a murderess, that his gut instincts told him she was no more a killer than Lausanne Raney. But being attracted to both women might have his normally keen instincts slightly off center.

  You’re attracted to Cara Bedell? Hell, are you out of your mind? She’s not your type. She’s not even pretty.And she’s
an Amazon. An Amazon with freckles and an attitude. Man, did the lady have an attitude.

  Before Desmond could reply to Cara, Edward asked the question Bain had hoped one of the suspects would ask. “Do the Buenos Aires police have any idea who killed Megan?”

  “Well…yes and no.” Okay, here’s your chance to test your acting talent, Desmond told himself. “It seems they have a description of an American woman who was seen leaving Ms. Reynolds’s hotel room shortly before her body was found.”

  “An American woman?” Patrice entered the conversation. “How did they—”

  Bain cut her off mid-sentence. “I arrested Lausanne Raney this morning on her return from Buenos Aires.”

  “Oh, my God!” Patrice gasped as if suddenly putting two and two together. “The Raney woman killed Megan just as she killed poor Audrey and Bobby Jack.”

  “Now, Mrs. Bedell, don’t put words in my mouth,” Bain said.

  “But it makes sense, doesn’t it, Lieutenant Desmond,” Grayson Perkins said. “If this Raney woman left town and went to Buenos Aires, she and Megan were somehow connected, perhaps Megan was involved in murdering Audrey and—and that man. That would give Ms. Raney a reason to kill Megan.”

  “It’s possible,” Bain agreed, but thought how totally illogical the theory really was. But then again, it didn’t matter what conclusions Grayson Perkins or any of the others drew, as long as the real killer believed he or she was in the clear. At least until the morning, when Lausanne would drop her little bombshell.

  “Do the Argentinian authorities have any evidence against Ms. Raney?” Edward asked.

  “No, not really,” Bain replied. “But we are gradually building a case against her.” Bain grimaced. “I’ve said too much, but…well, since y’all are Audrey Perkins’s family, I suppose you have the right to know that I personally think it’s only a matter of time before we make an arrest in our double homicide case.”

  For some reason, Bain found himself looking at Cara. She removed her hand from the back of the sofa and met Bain’s stare head-on. Her cheeks flushed slightly and she clenched her jaw as if she was agitated.

  “Then you have evidence against Ms. Raney that you aren’t at liberty to discuss at this time?” Cara asked.

  “Not exactly, but we expect to procure that evidence very soon.”

  “If she killed my darling Audrey, I want her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” Grayson clutched his chest in an overly dramatic manner, making Bain wonder just who he was performing for—Edward Bedell or perhaps Cara. Had the son of a bitch decided he needed a new meal ticket?

  Bain glanced from Grayson to Cara, who glowered at him. How was it possible for a smart, sophisticated woman like Cara Bedell to be so fooled by a scoundrel like Perkins? He was a weak, lily-livered sycophant. Couldn’t she see past his pretty-boy facade?

  According to those who had known her all her life, Cara had been carrying a torch for her brother-in-law since she was a kid. Even if she was now all grown up, smart, savvy and a tough-as-nails businesswoman, maybe emotionally she was still a teenager who had a crush on her big sister’s fellow.

  “When you arrest Ms. Raney, we would like to be notified,” Edward said.

  Bain turned to the elder man and saw the suffering in his eyes. A father’s pain. He’d never thought he would be capable of feeling sorry for a rich old bastard like Bedell, but right this minute, he did. Rich or poor, powerful or insignificant, all parents experienced the same torture when they lost a child.

  “Yes, sir,” Bain said. “Once an arrest is made, you will be the first to know.”

  “Jeremy, please see Lieutenant Desmond to the door.” Edward shook hands with Bain again. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll see the lieutenant out.” Cara marched across the room and preempted the butler’s orders by shooing Jeremy Loman aside and indicating with a sweep of her hand to Bain that they should exit the living room.

  Halfway down the hall, Cara paused. “When you arrest Ms. Raney, I’d appreciate it if you contacted me personally and allowed me tell my father and Gray. They’re both quite fragile right now. Gray is on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Daddy…well, Daddy isn’t handling things as well as he appears to be. He’s drinking quite a bit and…no one knows this, but he has a heart condition. Hell, he’s not aware that I know, but his doctor felt someone in the family should be told and—”

  “And you’re the responsible one, right? You’re the strong, in-charge caretaker for the rest of this bunch.”

  “You don’t like us very much, do you, Lieutenant Desmond?”

  He shrugged, but didn’t reply.

  “Are you trying to be diplomatic by not responding?” she asked.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  They resumed their walk toward the foyer. Once there, Bain turned and faced her. “It’s none of my business, but…Never mind.”

  When he opened the front door, she reached out and grasped his arm. “No, please, tell me what’s none of your business.”

  When he glanced down at her hand clutching his forearm, she released him immediately.

  “Just in case no one has ever pointed it out to you before,” Desmond told her, “you’re way too much woman for Grayson Perkins. A woman like you deserves a hell of a lot better.”

  While she stood there staring at him in shock, Bain left the Bedell mansion. And with every step he took toward his vintage Corvette, he mentally kicked his own butt. Why would Cara Bedell give a damn what he thought?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THE CHATTANOOGAN, occupying a corner at 12th and Broad Streets in the heart of downtown Chattanooga’s Southside, was a luxury hotel. Lausanne seriously doubted that the CPD was picking up the tab for her overnight stay. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d bet Dom would be paying the bill. After they checked in at three that afternoon, under the guise of Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer McNamara, the bellman carried their bags and led them to the elevator.

  When they reached their fifth floor room, which had a waterfront view, Dom tipped the bellman and requested he fill their ice bucket. After he left to do Dom’s bidding, Lausanne stared at the king-size bed, then looked at Dom.

  “You don’t like it?” he asked, all innocence.

  “I like it just fine,” she told him. “Since we’re Mr. and Mrs. McNamara, there’s nothing wrong with our sharing a bed, is there?”

  Dom grinned. “If you’re uncomfortable with—”

  She rushed to him, wrapped her arms around him and said, “Stop talking nonsense. The way you’re acting, you’d think we weren’t already lovers.”

  Dom heaved a deep breath. “It’s just that I don’t want you to think that I think just because we’ve made love that I expect—”

  She kissed him. “I know you’re trying to be a gentleman and I appreciate it. You really are too good to be true. But you have to know that I want to be with you—” she rubbed herself against him intimately “—the way we were together on the plane flying home.”

  Just as Dom lowered his head to kiss her, the bellman returned with their filled ice bucket. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. McNamara.”

  Dom released Lausanne, took the ice bucket from the bellman, set it on the table, and then walked him out into the hallway. “I’d like a couple of medium steaks, with all the trimmings, a bottle of the Broad Street Grill’s best red wine and two crème brûlée desserts, if they’re on the menu.” Dom handed the bellman more money. “See that it’s delivered around six.”

  “Yes, sir.” The bellman grinned from ear to ear when he saw the amount of his second tip.

  When Dom came back into the room and shut the door behind him, Lausanne flopped down in the comfy armchair by the window. “The way you’re throwing money around, a person would think you’re made of it.”

  “I’m not hurting for money,” Dom told her. “I don’t have any ex-wives I’m paying alimony to, no child support payments, and I’ve managed to make some wise investments over the years. I�
�m not wealthy by Edward Bedell’s standards, but I’m comfortable.”

  “You don’t have to spend a lot of money on me, you know. We could have stayed at a much cheaper hotel.”

  “So you figured out that the CPD isn’t paying for this room.” He came over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed across from her chair. “I figure it’s money well spent. After all, I wanted to impress my best girl.”

  Lausanne patted his knee. “You impress me just by being you, Dom Shea. Don’t you know that you’re one in a million?”

  Dom grinned sheepishly. “Maybe you’d better talk to my sisters before you definitely decide about that.”

  “Oh, would your sisters tell a different tale?”

  “Would they ever.”

  “Just how many sisters do you have?”

  “Three. One older, two younger. Pilar is married to Hart Lawton and my dad lives with them on their ranch in Texas. They’ve got two kids, a boy and a girl. My sister Marta lives in New York City. She’s a clothing designer and just came out with her own line this past year. She’s thirty-four and has no plans to ever get married. Then there’s the baby, Bianca. She’s in her last year of college at Texas A&M. She was our parents’ surprise baby.”

  “It must have been wonderful growing up in a big family with a brother and three sisters and happily married parents.” Lausanne’s gaze connected with his. “Your parents were happily married, weren’t they?”

  “Yes, they were, for thirty-five years, until my mother passed away six years ago.”

  “Your father hasn’t remarried?”