Dangerous Deception

by Beverly Barton

  “Nope. He says that once you’ve had the best, you won’t settle for anything else.”

  Tears moistened Lausanne’s eyes.

  Dom reached out and took both of her hands into his. “I want what my folks had. A marriage that’s rock solid. A woman I love more than anything on earth, who loves me the same way, and a pack of kids keeping us on our toes.”

  “I—I hope you get what you want. It sounds like a beautiful dream.”

  “Dreams come true every day, honey.”

  “For some people, but not for—”

  Dom yanked her out of the chair and pulled her over onto his lap. She grabbed him around the neck to keep from toppling over into the floor.

  “What’s your dream, Lausanne, the dream you think can’t come true?”

  She sighed heavily, then smiled. “I’m married to a man I adore, who adores me, and we have a couple of kids and…” Her smiled disappeared. “The other part of my dream is very selfish. My baby girl is with me and my wonderful new family.” She nuzzled against Dom. “Is it so terribly wrong for me to want a chance to be her mother?”

  “No, honey, it’s not wrong. Just highly unlikely.”

  “I know. That’s why it’s a dream.”

  CARA TOOK GRAY HOME after dinner. He’d drunk a little too much, and although he had offered to call a taxi, she’d volunteered to drive him. He was quiet on the drive from Lookout Mountain to downtown, but several times he reached over and patted Cara’s arm. When she glanced his way, he smiled at her, but her heart didn’t leap to her throat or do an erratic rat-a-tat-tat the way it so often had over the years whenever he’d paid her the least bit of attention.

  It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself. You’re tired, you’ve been under a great deal of stress and you know that it’ll be up to you to hold everyone together through Audrey’s funeral next week.

  At least now that the police were on the verge of arresting Lausanne Raney, Cara could stop worrying about a member of her family being accused of Audrey’s and Bobby Jack’s murders.

  When she pulled her Jaguar into the basement parking area of Gray’s apartment building, she turned to him, intending to give him a sisterly goodnight kiss, but Gray grabbed her hand.

  “Please, come up with me,” he said. “I really can’t bear to be alone.”

  For longer than she could remember, she’d dreamed of Gray turning to her, with that look of need in his beautiful eyes, and asking her to spend the night with him.

  “You should have stayed at the house with the family.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. But I didn’t want to wear out my welcome.”

  “I tell you what. I’ll come up with you, but I shouldn’t stay the night.”

  “People who know us would understand that you were here with me only as a dear, kind and loving sister-in-law.”

  “Of course.” Those old feelings of inadequacy and unimportance reared their ugly heads. “People would know you could never be interested in me. Not in that way.”

  “Oh, Cara, that isn’t true.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Audrey’s barely gone and it would be improper for me to court her sister so soon after…But in the future, the near future, I hope that you will give me a chance to rectify the mistake I made by marrying Audrey instead of waiting for you.”

  Her heart did skip a beat then and hope resurfaced. “Just what are you saying, Gray?”

  Holding her hand and gazing adoringly into her eyes, he smiled that million watt smile that made most women swoon. It certainly had been making her swoon ever since she’d been a kid. But right now, so close to possibly hearing what she’d longed for Gray to say to her, Cara suddenly felt oddly unsure.

  “When a proper amount of time has passed—at least six months—I’d like the privilege of dating you, and in time, perhaps a year from now, we might discuss marriage.”

  Marriage to Gray. The dream of a lifetime. So, why wasn’t she overjoyed? Why didn’t she feel the ecstasy she’d so often experienced in her daydreams about being his wife?

  You still love him, she reminded herself. Of course she did. She had loved Gray since she’d been twelve years old and she would probably love him until the day she died, but…

  But what?

  Gray laughed, the sound almost too cheerful, then he said, “You’re speechless, aren’t you, my darling? Have I made you so happy that you can’t talk?”

  “I…uh…you’ve surprised me,” she told him. “That’s all. I never expected you to…well, to practically propose like this.”

  His smiled vanished and a sorrowful expression quickly replaced it. “Oh, I know it’s much too soon to make plans, and we must keep this our little secret for now, but just think how pleased Edward will be when…say this time next year, perhaps at Thanksgiving or even Christmas…we tell him that I’m going to remain a true member of the Bedell family.”

  Pop! Cara’s balloon burst.

  More than anything, she wanted Gray to love her the way he’d loved Audrey. She had fantasized about being his wife, the woman he worshiped and adored. And here he was proposing to her, albeit a year in advance of their being able to announce their engagement. But Gray hadn’t mentioned the word love, hadn’t proclaimed his undying affection for her, hadn’t said he couldn’t live without her.

  Think how pleased Edward will be. I’m going to remain a true member of the Bedell family.

  The truth hit her like an unexpected slap across the face, brutally honest and painfully real. Gray didn’t love her, had never loved her and never would. Had he ever truly loved Audrey or had it all been for show, for Edward Bedell’s sake? Had Gray cared deeply for Audrey as he proclaimed or did he simply love being Edward’s son-in-law more than he could ever love anyone or anything?

  “Cara, darling, are you all right?” Gray pressed her hand to his heart.

  She managed to resist the instant impulse to jerk her hand away. Instead she stared at him, at his absolutely beautiful face, and for the first time since she was twelve years old, she saw beyond the grand facade. Instinctively, she lifted her other hand and caressed his smooth, flawless cheek. Her heart ached with love for the phantom Gray who had never existed, who had been a figment of her overactive, hormone-driven, adolescent imagination.

  “I’m fine, Gray. Really.” You poor darling, she thought, realizing just how truly perfect Gray had been for Audrey. Two totally self-centered, egotistical people. Audrey, who had possessed sadistic tendencies, and Gray who had and still did possess masochistic traits, had been a match made in heaven—or perhaps in hell. Did her father realize what a magnificent job he’d done pairing his elder daughter with Grayson Perkins?

  “Will you come up with me?” Gray asked. “I really hate being alone.”

  “I shouldn’t,” Cara said. “But if you truly don’t want to be alone, why don’t I go up with you, help you pack a bag and then you come back to the house with me and stay for a while longer, at least until after Audrey’s funeral.” Or stay for weeks or months or years. Come home with me and plant your roots so deep at the mansion that Daddy will never kick you out, despite the fact you aren’t his son-in-law any longer and never will be again.

  “I suppose that’s what I should do,” Gray said, as if the thought of living in the Bedell mansion had never crossed his mind. “It would be unbearable staying here in the apartment. There are so many memories of Audrey here.” He glanced at Cara, checking her reaction.

  She patted his hand. “I understand. You loved my sister. She was your wife.”

  “You’re the most kind and understanding woman I know, dear Cara.” He gazed at her longingly, just a hint of sadness in his expression. “One day…”

  Yes, one day, dear Gray, when you ask me to marry you, I’ll say no.

  Cara supposed she should hate Gray, but she didn’t. She still loved him. But her eyes were open now and it was such a pity that, until tonight, she hadn’t been able to see the man he truly was. Realization dawned in th
e far reaches of her consciousness. Dear God, Audrey had seen the real Gray, had known how shallow and pathetic he really was. But Cara had looked at him, judged him all these years, through the eyes of a young girl, worshiping her idol from afar.

  “Come with me, darling, and help me pack,” Gray said, unable to completely disguise the giddiness in his voice.

  “Of course, Gray, whatever you want.”

  But only for now. I’ve paid too high a price for loving you, so from now on, things will be different. Once Audrey is laid to rest and Lausanne Raney is arrested for her murder, things are going to change drastically. After that, it will be whatever I want and to hell with everyone else.

  DOM AND LAUSANNE LAY spoon fashion in the king-size bed in the fifth-floor room of The Chattanoogan Hotel facing the Tennessee River. They had eaten dinner by candlelight, finished off a bottle of excellent wine and made slow, maddeningly passionate love. The thought of making love to her aroused Dom all over again. But he would not wake her. She needed to rest. Tomorrow would be a difficult day for her. A day that could change their lives. A day he dreaded in a way he’d never dreaded another. He couldn’t bear thinking about the possibility of something going wrong. If he lost her…

  Completely naked, Dom eased out of bed and walked to the windows overlooking the river. He stared out into the nighttime stillness and tried to erase the worst case scenarios that kept playing inside his head.

  Nothing will go wrong. She’ll be protected at all times. I’ll be nearby. If the police don’t act quickly enough, I will.

  If only they knew who the real killer was. Knowing his or her identity would help them follow through with Desmond’s plan and keep Lausanne safe. At least they had been able to narrow down the suspects to three. Better than a dozen, but not as good as singling out one person.

  Desmond thought Grayson Perkins had killed his wife and her lover; the odds were that he had. But they couldn’t rule out Patrice or Cara, both with motives of their own. And what if the killer sent a hit man after Lausanne, instead of coming himself?

  Dom’s cell phone rang. Damn! He rushed over, picked up the phone off the nightstand and opened it before it rang the second time. He didn’t want anything to disturb Lausanne. Before putting the phone to his ear, he noted the time on the lighted digital face. Ten-fifty. Then he checked the caller ID.

  “Yeah, Sawyer, what’s up?” Dom asked quietly as he headed to the bathroom.

  “I have some information I thought you might want right away,” Sawyer said. “It’s about the child Lausanne Raney surrendered for adoption.”

  Dom’s heart pounded. “Have you located the child?” He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “Yes, we’ve located her.”

  “Is she—”

  “The child’s name is May, named by the hospital staff where she was born, since she was born in the month of May,” Sawyer said.

  “I don’t understand. If she was adopted, why—?”

  Interrupting again, Sawyer said, “May was never adopted. She’s been living in foster care most of her life.”

  A knot of apprehension stuck in Dom’s throat. He cleared his throat and asked, “Why wasn’t she adopted?”

  “Because there was a problem. Nobody wanted her.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  LAUSANNE HAD FORCED DOWN a few bites of toast and drunk a cup of coffee this morning, but for a while she’d felt as if she might throw up at any minute. Dom had been her rock, helping her in every possible way he could. And Lieutenant Desmond, Sergeant Swain and the other members of the CPD, who had showed up promptly at nine-thirty, had all been polite and supportive.

  “You’ll make the calls using this phone. We have it fixed so that the person on the other end will see a specific number and your name on their caller ID. We’ll be recording each call.”

  “We already have people in place to keep track of all three suspects, which won’t be that difficult since all three are at the Bedell mansion this morning,” Sergeant Swain explained.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Raney,” Lt. Desmond said. “Do you need to go over what you’re going to say one more time?”

  She looked directly at Dom when she replied. “No, I’m fine. I know exactly what I’m supposed to say.”

  From where he stood across the room, Dom gave her a thumbs-up sign. She inhaled deeply and exhaled, then sat down at the desk where the police officers had connected the special phone she would be using.

  “Okay, everybody, clear out,” Lt. Desmond said. “Y’all take your places in the adjoining room.” He glanced at Dom. “Are you staying?”

  Dom narrowed his gaze. “Damn right I am.”

  Lt. Desmond focused on Lausanne. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  When she reached for the phone, she thought it odd that her hand wasn’t shaking, not in the least. That’s when she realized she was functioning off pure adrenaline, that she’d shoved fear and uncertainty deep inside in order to do what had to be done.

  She glanced at the list of numbers, each a cell phone, private numbers that she would have no way of knowing. Would that fact register with the suspects—would they question where she’d obtained their telephone numbers?

  “Is something wrong?” Sergeant Swain asked when he noted her hesitation.

  “Won’t they wonder how I got hold of their private cell phone numbers?”

  “Possibly,” Lt. Desmond said. “But the guilty person will probably be too concerned with the fact you’re in possession of a letter written by Megan Reynolds to even think about how you got his or her private number.”

  Lausanne nodded.

  “Do you need a few more minutes, honey?” Dom asked.

  She shook her head, then picked up the phone and dialed the first number. It rang five times before Grayson Perkins answered.

  “Hello, Ms. Raney.” His voice resonated with uncertainty.

  “Good morning, Mr. Perkins. I suppose you wonder why I’m—”

  “How dare you contact me,” he said, as if suddenly getting over the shock of her phone call. “I thought you were in jail.”

  “I’m out on bail.”

  “I’m not speaking to you. I’m hanging up—”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lausanne told him.

  Silence.

  “I thought you might want to know that I received an Express Overnight delivery from Buenos Aires only a few minutes ago.”

  “Buenos Aires?” Grayson’s voice quivered.

  “Mmm…hmm. The delivery package contained a very interesting letter that Megan Reynolds’s attorney, Senor Alejandro Lopez, was instructed, by Megan, to send to me.”

  “What does the letter say?”

  “I think you know.”

  “What sort of game are you playing, Ms. Raney?”

  “The game is called I Want To Be a Millionaire,” Lausanne told him, then ended their conversation.

  When she replaced the receiver, she looked at Lt. Desmond. “Did I do all right?”

  “You were great.”

  “What if he calls me right back?” she asked.

  “He will get a busy signal no matter how many times he tries,” Sergeant Swain said. “After you make the next two calls, we’ll wait for a couple of hours before letting any calls come through to you. We want to give the killer a little time to sweat.”

  Lausanne took a deep breath, then lifted the receiver and dialed the second number.

  Patrice Bedell answered on the third ring. “Ms. Raney, why are you calling me? And just how did you get my private cell phone number?”

  Lausanne cut her eyes up toward Lt. Desmond, who gave her a hand signal to continue.

  “I thought you’d might want to know that I received an Express Overnight delivery from Buenos Aires only a few minutes ago.”

  “Isn’t that where you found Megan Reynolds and killed her?” Patrice said.

  Disregarding Patrice’s accusation, Lausanne forged ahead. �
�The delivery package contained a very interesting letter that Megan Reynolds’s attorney, Senor Alejandro Lopez, was instructed, by Megan, to send to me.”

  “Then I suggest you turn the letter over to the police. I can’t imagine why you’d think the letter would be of any interest to me.”

  Did Patrice Bedell’s reaction indicate she was innocent? Or was she just a very good actress?

  “You really don’t want me to give this letter to the police, do you, Mrs. Bedell?”

  Lausanne slammed down the receiver, then turned to Lt. Desmond. “She told me to turn the letter over to the police.”

  Lt. Desmond grinned, then tapped the earpiece he wore. “I heard what she said. And the lady wasn’t finished talking to you. She’s calling you back as we speak.”

  “Oh.” Lausanne twined her fingers together, released them and rubbed her hands together. Her pulse accelerated. Her palms dampened.

  “Call the last name on the list,” Lt. Desmond told her.

  After dialing the number, she waited for Cara Bedell to answer, but after the sixth ring, the call went directly to voice mail. Lausanne looked up at Lt. Desmond, silently questioning him. He mouthed the words, Leave a message.

  “Ms. Bedell, this is Lausanne Raney. I received a package from Buenos Aires this morning from Megan Reynolds’s attorney. The package contained a letter from Megan, a letter I’m sure you’ll find quite interesting.”

  Lt. Desmond zipped his index finger across his throat, giving her a “hang-up” signal. Lausanne replaced the receiver, then whooshed out a thank-God-that’s-over sigh.

  Dom came out of the corner where he’d been watching over her, shoved Lt. Desmond aside and pulled a visibly shaken Lausanne securely against him.

  “You did a great job, Ms. Raney,” Sergeant Swain said.

  Lausanne looked up. “What now?”

  “Now we wait and let them stew,” Lt. Desmond replied. “Perkins and Mrs. Bedell have tried to call you back.”

  “Which means?” Lausanne asked.

  “Nothing…something…everything,” he told her.

  She emitted a chuckle, her nerves finally unraveling. As if instinctively knowing she needed to lean on him, Dom walked her over to the bed and the two of them sat down, side by side. He took her hand in his and she rested her head on his shoulder.