скачать книгу бесплатно
Her smile abruptly fading, she glanced coldly at Inez. “Get us some coffee and make sure it’s fresh brewed.”
It wasn’t until she turned back to Austin that she realized she’d made a mistake and nearly given herself away. The real Meredith would have never been so rude to the hired help. Oh, no, not her nicey-nice twin sister. She’d always been perfect, and Patsy had hated her for that.
Anger boiled in Patsy Portman like hot lava just at the thought of her sister, and it only enraged her more that she was going to have to watch herself with Austin, or he would start asking questions she couldn’t answer. If he figured out that she wasn’t really Meredith…
Paling at the thought, she stiffened. No, she was Meredith! She was! If she forgot sometimes, it was just because she couldn’t turn around without running into someone asking questions they had no business asking. First the police, and now Austin. Damn them all, how long did they think she could keep up this act when they kept pressuring her? If someone ran her fingerprints through the police computers, her prison record was going to pop up like a piece of burnt toast.
Feeling like she was coming unraveled, she swallowed a giggle at the thought. No! She had to get control. She needed her pills. But she couldn’t take them in front of Austin. Then he would know. Then everyone would know. She had to get it together. She was Meredith. Sweet, irritatingly pleasant Meredith.
Suppressing a shudder, she forced a tight smile and tried to repair the damage by saying sweetly, “Oh, and Inez? Don’t worry about the dry cleaning. I’ll wear the black lace. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said softly. “I’ll get your coffee.”
When the housekeeper scurried away, Patsy didn’t need to see Austin’s frown to know that she’d done little to redeem herself. For that alone, she wanted to scream at him. For as long as she could remember, she’d never measured up to Meredith. They may have looked just alike, but it was her twin who’d always known just how to act and what to say. Everything had come to her, dammit! Everything! While Meredith had played it up big in Washington parties as a senator’s wife, then later socialized in her fancy house with the rich and beautiful in California, Patsy had been serving time in prison for murder. Then there was that awful time she spent at the St. James Clinic for the mentally ill. It wasn’t fair!
In spite of what the doctors had said, she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t, dammit! She’d just wanted the charmed existence her sister led. So when she’d seen a chance to get rid of her and take over her life nine years ago, she hadn’t hesitated. And no one had been the wiser.
That wasn’t to say it had been easy. She’d had to keep a tight rein on her temper, and that had been a constant struggle. She hadn’t been able to do it indefinitely. Gradually, she’d showed sides of her true self, always using the excuse that she was tired or stressed or just not feeling like herself. And over the years, everyone had come to accept the changes in Meredith’s personality without being aware of it.
Austin, however, hadn’t been around to witness those changes in Meredith. He hadn’t seen her in years, and if Patsy wasn’t careful, he’d start to wonder why his now sharp-tongued aunt was so different from the simpering sweet one he remembered from his childhood.
He was a huge threat to her, and not just because there was a possibility he might notice the changes in her. The man had the eyes of a wolf. She wouldn’t be able to fool him the way she had Thaddeus Law and the other detectives who’d investigated the shooting. Those yo-yos never even suspected that there had been two attempts against Joe’s life that night. They’d gone over the grounds with a fine-tooth comb and completely missed the fact that she’d put poison in Joe’s champagne right before the birthday toast.
Poison, she thought resentfully, that he’d never gotten a chance to drink. He’d dropped the glass when the shooter took a shot at him.
Thankfully, the poisoned champagne had soaked into the ground when it spilled and there was no evidence to connect her to an attempt against Joe’s life. But Patsy wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was out of the woods. Not now. Not with Austin on the case. She’d heard of the cases he’d solved in Portland, cases that his co-workers had long since given up on. When he’d quit the police department after he’d been shot in a shoot-out with drug lords, his supervisors had tried everything they could to change his mind, even going so far as to promise him outrageous promotions if he’d only stay. A man like that wouldn’t rest until he cracked a case and hunted down all guilty parties.
And that infuriated her. Damn Joe! When she’d found out he’d hired Austin, she’d wanted to poison his drink all over again. He’d given him a key to the house, for God’s sake! He could come and go as he pleased, and just thinking about it made her break out in a cold sweat. If she hadn’t already been on the patio chewing out Inez she never would have known he was there!
So what the hell was she going to do about him?
Keep a close eye on him and distract him as much as possible from his investigation without being obvious, she concluded. It was the only way. But dammit, she couldn’t watch the front door every minute of the day!
Fuming, desperate for her pills, she sank down into one of the patio chairs and gave him a look of concern that could have fooled the Pope himself. “I never thought to ask the police, but do you think it’s safe for us to still use the patio? What if the man who tried to kill Joe is still out there somewhere, watching us?”
Her eyes deliberately wide, she turned to look out at the magnificent view of the ocean and was proud of the little shiver of fear she was able to manufacture. “He could be in a boat, with a high-powered rifle, pretending to be fishing and waiting for a chance to kill us all…”
“What makes you think it’s a man?”
Expecting him to rush to reassure her that she had no need to be afraid, Patsy blinked. “Well, because it is!”
“How do you know that? Did you see the shooter?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t see anything.”
“But you were standing right next to Joe, weren’t you? I believe he pulled you down to the ground when the shot rang out. What happened right before that? Were you looking out at the crowd? Did you notice anyone who looked particularly angry? You must have seen something.”
Furious that he was putting her on the spot, it was all she could do not to cuss him out. Damn him, who did he think he was, questioning her? She was Mrs. Joe Colton, by God, even if she wasn’t the real Meredith, and she didn’t have to take this from him or anyone else!
But even as the hot words sprang to her tongue, she bit them back. No, she thought furiously. She’d be damned if she’d let him push her into losing control and destroying everything. Because once she lost it, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back again, and that terrified her. She wasn’t going back to the St. James Clinic! she thought fiercely. Or any other lockup for crazies. There was nothing wrong with her. She just had to remain calm and think straight.
It wasn’t easy. There was a tight knot of nerves in her gut that burned like the fires of hell. “It all happened so fast, it’s hard to remember what happened,” she said stiffly. “Before the shooting, I was busy playing hostess and making sure there was plenty of champagne for the toasts. When the shot rang out, I was looking at Joe, just like everyone else. I didn’t see anything.”
That seemed to be the favorite line of everyone he talked to, Austin thought in annoyance, and that was nothing short of amazing. A man had nearly been killed in front of three hundred guests, and no one claimed to have seen anything!
Frowning, he said, “So you don’t know who was standing at the edge of the crowd? You didn’t see anyone sneak off into the shadows? Hell, I’d be happy if you could just tell me if anyone disappeared for a while. But I guess you didn’t notice that, either.”
When she gave him a look that should have dropped him in his tracks, Austin expected her to blast him with a few choice words, but he had to give her credit. Visibly holding on to her temper, she said tightly, “No, I didn’t. I told you I was busy. There’s nothing else I can say.”
If she wasn’t going to be any help to him, Austin wished she would find something else to do and leave him alone so he could work, but that, apparently wasn’t going to happen. Instead of excusing herself, she settled more comfortably in her chair, as if she was prepared to stay awhile, probably as long as he was there. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This was her house, after all. He couldn’t very well demand that she make herself scarce in her own home.
Resigned, he said, “According to Joe’s written notes of the shooting, the two of you were standing on the stage for the band, but he doesn’t say where that was.”
“It was set up at the end of the patio, on the left side,” she retorted. “It was so crowded, a lot of the guests had spilled from the patio out onto the lawn.”
“And the shot came from out in the yard somewhere?”
She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The floodlights for the stage were blinding and it was impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the patio.”
Disgusted, Austin swore softly. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
Standing at the edge of the patio, he surveyed the surrounding area with a scowl and silently acknowledged that the shooter had chosen a perfect setting in which to try to commit murder. He’d waited until it was dark, and the house and patio were crawling with people. When it came time for the toast, everyone was looking at Joe, so all the shooter had to do was stand at the back of the crowd, wait for the right moment to pull the trigger, then step back into the darkness, just beyond the reach of the lights. In the chaos that followed the shooting, he could have walked around the house, entered through the front door and merged with the rest of the party-goers and no one would have suspected a thing.
“Whoever did this had to be nuts,” he said half to himself. “Joe’s not the kind to generate anger in people—he makes friends wherever he goes. I can’t believe anyone would hate him enough to try to kill him.”
“It does seem crazy,” Meredith agreed. “But there’s a lot of nuts walking around loose. And Joe is so easy-going that he thinks everyone is like him. But they’re not. Not everyone can let bygones be bygones. Joe always got along with the parents of the foster children we raised, but deep down inside, some of them had to resent the fact that they weren’t raising their own children. Who knows? Maybe one of them was the shooter.”
That was an option Austin hadn’t even considered. At this point, he couldn’t overlook anyone. Turning back to Meredith he pulled the guest list from the notebook he’d brought with him. “I’ll need to know which of the guests are from the foster families.”
Only too happy to direct suspicion away from herself, Patsy obligingly gave him the names.
In spite of that, however, she didn’t fool herself into thinking she’d cleared herself as a suspect. There were any number of family members, not to mention so-called friends, who had probably already told Austin that her marriage to Joe had deteriorated over the years. It was only a matter of time before he asked her why. She’d lie, of course, not that it would do her any good. With those emerald-green eyes of his, he could see through a lie in a split second, damn him. If he started asking her questions she couldn’t answer and really put the pressure on her and made her mad, God only knew what she’d say or do.
Her heart slamming against her ribs, she told herself she couldn’t let that happen. Because if she snapped and gave herself away, she’d lose the boys and she’d get locked up again. And while she might find a way to bear prison again, she couldn’t lose her boys. Not Joe and Teddy. They were hers, dammit. Hers! Joe, Jr. didn’t have a drop of Colton blood in him, and Teddy was a result of a hot quickie with Joe’s brother, Graham, in the guest bathroom during a dinner party. Granted, that had been a mistake—she never would have taken a chance on getting pregnant if she’d known Joe was sterile—but she couldn’t regret that now. They were her babies, and she wouldn’t risk losing them.
Talk! she told herself fiercely. Distract him. Do whatever you have to to keep his focus off you.
Before she could speak, the patio door opened behind them and they both turned in time to see Rebecca step out onto the patio.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, startled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just on my way to the barn.”
“For a ride?” Pleased, Patsy thought things couldn’t have worked out better if she’d planned them herself. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Why don’t you take Austin with you? It’s been years since he was here last, and he’s probably forgotten how beautiful it is.
“That’s okay with you, isn’t it, Austin?” Patsy continued smoothly, turning her attention to him before Rebecca could say a word. “I know you’re working, but everybody needs a break once in a while. It’ll do you good.”
Trapped, there wasn’t much the two of them could do except exchange polite looks. “Company would be nice,” Rebecca said.
“A ride would blow some of the cobwebs out of my head,” Austin added.
Hiding her contempt—how easily manipulated they were—Patsy shooed them toward the barn. “Then go on. Get out of here and enjoy yourselves.”
Left with no choice, Rebecca fell into step with Austin and they headed for the barn. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them said a word. Rebecca had never felt so awkward in her life. “I’m sorry about that,” she said finally. “I know you didn’t really want to take time away from your work, but Meredith can be pretty insistent sometimes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Actually,” he said honestly, “the only reason I hesitated was because I didn’t want to intrude on your ride. Don’t feel like you have to do this. I can go back to work if you want to be alone.”
“Oh, no!” How could he think that? “I’d like some company,” she said shyly as they entered the barn. “It was an awful day at school today, and I’d just like to forget everything and have some fun.”
His green eyes dancing, he said dryly, “I think I can manage that.” And before she could guess his intentions, he had his mount saddled and had stepped into the stirrups. “Race you!” he challenged, and was off like a shot, leaving her and her horse flatfooted.
“Hey!” Vaulting into the saddle, Rebecca sent her favorite mare bounding after him, and it didn’t take her long to catch him. Her smile wide and her eyes dancing, she bent low over her mare’s neck and headed for the beach. The race was on.
There was no finish line. With the wind whistling through their hair and the low rolling hills of the ranch flying past them, they rode neck-and-neck, broad smiles lighting their faces. And when they reached the beach and both pulled up by unspoken agreement, they were laughing.
Rebecca couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun, and that should have been enough to set off alarm bells in her head. Getting to know him better was a mistake. It would only deepen her feelings of loneliness when he returned to Portland. She knew that, accepted it, but she couldn’t worry about next week or next month. Not when the day had just turned wonderful. Loving the feel of the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she wanted to laugh out loud with joy.
“That was great!” she said, grinning at him. “C’mon. I’ll show you my favorite spot on the whole ranch.”
Leading the way, she took him to a secluded rocky cove down on the beach. Years ago, Meredith had taken her to that same spot when she’d first come to the ranch to live. Overwhelmed—not only by the ranch, but by the Colton family and the foster children they’d welcomed into their home so easily—she’d been feeling very lost that day and Meredith had sensed it. So she’d taken her to the cove to show her her secret hideaway.
There’d been no other footprints but theirs that day, and Rebecca had loved it. The pounding of the surf against the shore and the cry of the gulls had given her a serenity she’d found nowhere else on earth, and to this day, whenever she was feeling low, she only had to close her eyes to feel the spray of the Pacific on her face and the damp sand under her feet.
Nothing, however, beat being there in person. Unable to resist the call of the pristine sand that had been washed clean by the waves, she dismounted and looked up with a smile when Austin joined her. “Isn’t it beautiful here? When I first came to live here, Meredith and I used to have picnics on the beach here all the time.”
Her tone was wistful—she could hear it in her voice—and she wasn’t surprised when Austin heard it, too. Frowning, he said, “Don’t you go on picnics now? You two seem so close.”
“We used to be,” she said. “I admired her so much. She was wonderful with the foster children, and I loved helping her with them. But after the accident, she didn’t have time for picnics. Her priorities changed.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “There were little changes at first. She became totally devoted to Joe Junior—then she had Teddy and was the same way with him. Later, she got wrapped up in her social schedule, and she just didn’t have time to do the things we used to do.”
She didn’t have time for me anymore, Rebecca added silently. And she didn’t know why. She just knew Meredith was different, and they weren’t as close as they’d once been. And the only explanation she had for it was the accident.
The thought saddened her, and the mood was somber as they returned to the house, where they found themselves guests at a small dinner party. Feeling underdressed in riding clothes, Rebecca felt her heart sink at the sight of a former congressman and a famous Hollywood producer who had joined the family in the courtyard for before-dinner drinks. Why, she wondered in frustration, did Meredith insist on inviting the entire world to dinner? When she’d first come to the ranch, one of the things she’d loved the most about living there had been the family suppers in the eat-in kitchen. They’d been homey and fun and intimate and given everyone a chance to catch up on each other’s day.
But those times were, unfortunately, long gone, and now it seemed like there were always outsiders around. Meals were much more formal and in the dining room. And Rebecca hated it. Given the chance, she would have used the excuse that she had homework to grade and left. But she’d had so much fun with Austin that she hated to see the evening end. And one look at his resigned expression and she knew he wasn’t any more thrilled than she at the idea of attending a dinner party. The least she could do was stick around and help him through it.
Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be as bad as Rebecca had anticipated. The conversation shifted back and forth between politics and the movie industry, and the discussions on the future of both were lively and sometimes more than a little intense. But Joe was in his element, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, and for the first time since the shooting, he seemed like his old self. Rebecca could have sat there for hours, just listening to him talk.
Meredith, however, changed the entire mood with just a few carelessly chosen words. The meal was almost over—Inez was serving her fabulous praline cheesecake—when Meredith took advantage of a sudden lull in the conversation to turn her attention on Austin. “So, Austin,” she said brightly, “how is the investigation going now that you’ve had time to check out the guest list? You must have narrowed down some suspects.”
Just that easily, silence fell like a rock. For a moment, Austin didn’t say a word. A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he just looked at her. But everyone at the table was waiting for his answer, and he finally said quietly, “I can’t discuss that at this point. The investigation is ongoing, and I still have a lot of leads to follow up.”
“But what about suspects?” she pressed. “You must have some idea of who the shooter is by now. You’ve been talking to people all week.”
“This kind of case takes time to solve,” he retorted. “You don’t do it overnight.”
“But—”
“That’s enough, Meredith,” Joe growled. Glaring at her from the opposite end of the dining room table, he gave her a hard look that anyone who knew him well was familiar with. Without saying a word, he told her to shut up. Glancing at his guests, he smiled wryly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to talk about violence at the dinner table. It doesn’t do a lot for the digestive system.”
Far from intimidated by his warning look, Patsy just barely resisted the urge to scream at him. How dare he correct her in front of guests! She could talk about anything she wanted to, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it!
“I would have thought you’d want to know who your enemies are,” she said coldly. “But if you want to live in a fairy tale and pretend everything is hunky-dory, go ahead. I know where you want to be buried.”
Urged on by that voice in her head that always seemed to get her in trouble, Patsy knew she may have gone too far, but she didn’t care. He could be such a jackass sometimes. She didn’t know what Meredith had ever seen in him. If he hadn’t been so damn rich, she, herself, would have walked away from him years ago. But she’d been alone and poor before, and rich was better—even if that meant she did have to put up with Joe Colton.
Not, she silently amended with a secret smile, that she might have to do that for much longer. Somebody else out there wanted him dead. They’d tried to kill him once. They were bound to try to do it again. And next time they just might succeed. Then she’d have all that lovely money to herself, and she’d never have to deal with Joe Colton again.
Three
The nightmare came out of the darkness like a thief in the night, grabbing her before she even thought to note the danger. Coming awake with a startled cry of horror, Louise Smith bolted up in bed, her brown eyes wide and unfocused, her heart slamming against her ribs. In her subconscious, vague, shadowy images rose up before her, terrifying her, and for a moment, she couldn’t even have said where she was. Then she blinked, and the neat feminine decor of her bedroom came into focus and she realized she was safe and sound in her modest little home in Jackson, Mississippi.
It was then that the tears started.
Suddenly cold all the way to the bone in spite of the fact that it was a warm summer night, Louise wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth in her bed. The nightmares had become more frequent over the course of the last few months—and more terrifying. She’d had them for years, ever since she’d woken up one morning at the St. James Clinic with no memory of who she was, but they’d never been so bad before. Every night for the past week, she’d hardly closed her eyes when she went to bed before the nightmares began. And they were always the same—a little girl crying out for her mommy in the dark. And she was the mommy the little girl cried out for.
A sob welled up from deep inside her, and she could no more hold it back than she could change the fact that she was Patsy Portman, a woman with a prison record and a history of mental disability, a woman who’d had a baby girl taken from her soon after her birth that was still, to this day, lost to her. Just thinking about that still made her cringe. What kind of monster was she?
When the hospital staff at the St. James Clinic had told her about her past, she was sure that there had to be some mistake. She wasn’t that kind of person. She couldn’t be! She might not remember who she was, but surely she would know if she’d killed a man! But then her doctor had shown her her prison record, and there was no denying that she was as amoral as she’d been told she was. Horrified, she’d vowed to change her life right then and there.
The first thing she’d done was return to Mississippi and her last known address, where she’d changed her name to Louise Smith so she could start her new life with a clean slate. But putting the past behind her hadn’t been that easy. She’d had no references to get a job, no education that she knew of, no skills. Finally she’d gotten a job at the University of Mississippi. She’d worked hard, and with time, she’d eventually risen through the ranks to become the head of administration services.
She was proud of that and all that she’d accomplished, but there were some things she couldn’t change regardless of how hard she tried. Her past was still lost to her. And then there were the nightmares that haunted her nights. Inexplicably, they’d first started nearly five years ago, and had never gone away. Losing weight and sleep, she’d finally sought out Dr. Martha Wilkes, a therapist who specialized in repressed memory, and for a while, she’d felt like she was making real progress. Then she’d started having migraines, and her nightmares had gotten progressively worse. Even with Martha’s continued help, she still couldn’t say what her dreams were about. She just knew she was scared to death, and she didn’t know why.
The dreams had to be related to her past—she and Martha both agreed on that. But what had she done that was so awful that she couldn’t face it? After all, she’d murdered a man, for heaven’s sake, and had a baby stolen from her arms. What could be more terrible than that? What had Patsy Portman done?
Scared, her heart aching with a hurt she couldn’t put a name to, she huddled under the covers and told herself whatever it was, she couldn’t keep running from it. With Martha’s help, she had to find a way to face and accept whatever was haunting her dreams. Because if she didn’t, it was going to slowly destroy her, and she was determined not to let that happen.
But when she lay back down and closed her eyes, the specter of her nightmare was right there beside her in the dark, towering over her like the devil himself. Her eyes flew open, and in the deep silence of the night, she would have sworn she could hear the thundering of her heart. With the covers pulled tight around her, she stared at the darkness. It was a long time before she fell asleep.
Rebecca woke with a smile on her face the next morning and didn’t have to ask herself who put it there. Austin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much with a man. He was just so easy to be around. There’d been no pressure like there was on a date, no expectations of anything romantic. They’d just gone riding like two friends who’d known each other forever, then had dinner with the family and a few guests. It couldn’t have been more perfect.
A kiss on the cheek wouldn’t have hurt, she thought with a smile, but then again, she’d accepted the fact that there wasn’t going to be any romance in her life. If friendship was all she could have with Austin, then she’d take it.
Happier than she’d been in a long time, she pulled on one of her favorite dresses, a white cotton sheath with an embroidered neckline, and stepped into flat white sandals. Feeling very feminine, she French-braided her hair in a single braid that hung down her back, then applied a minimum of makeup and a spritz of perfume. And when she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t stop smiling. She felt pretty this morning and it showed.
The glow of the morning stayed with her all the way to work and well into her first class. There must have been something in the air, because her students were all alert and eager, and everything seemed to flow as smooth as silk. Then there was a knock at her classroom door and she turned to find Mildred Henderson, an aide from the school office, hesitating at the threshold with a note from the principal.
Surprised, Rebecca took the note and arched a brow at the curtly written message instructing her to report to the office immediately. “Mr. Foster wants to see me now?” she asked Mildred. “During the middle of class?”
The elderly, grandmotherly woman nodded somberly. “I don’t know what happened, dear, but he seemed very upset. Run along now. I’ll stay with the class while you’re gone.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.” Shaken, Rebecca hurried down the hall to the office, worry eating at her stomach. Had the shooter gotten to Joe? Was that what this was about? Was he hurt? Dead?
The blood draining from her face, Rebecca gave a perfunctory knock at the principal’s door and hardly waited from him to respond before she barged inside. “Is something wrong with my family?”
Richard Foster knew all about the shooting at Joe’s birthday party—the story had been all over the newspapers and covered extensively on both the local and national news programs on TV—so he knew what she was really asking. “As far as I know, Joe Colton is fine, Ms. Powell,” he said stiffly. “You’ve been called here on school business.”
