Deception (13 page)

“I’ll make that call,” Willene said, “tomorrow morning. No point calling tonight, because if he’s breathin’, he’s out with some woman. Since Ms. Talla died, he doesn’t miss a night out.”

If Willene’s intention was to make Connor feel that Clay had more women than time to service them all, she’d been very successful. “Call in the morning. I’ve had enough research for tonight, and I’m going to bed.”

She picked up the books and slid them back into their places on the shelves. “This is a wonderful room. Some of the books are first editions in beautiful condition.”

“There was a time when it wasn’t so convenient to ride into town to find something at the local library. Old man Sumner, that’s Clay’s granddaddy, set great store by reading. He bought most of the books, but each Sumner has added to them.”

Connor hadn’t spent a great deal of time studying literature, but she knew enough to know the collection of contemporary fiction had been chosen with care. There were also at least thirty volumes on local history. Strangely, though, the one book written about the outlaw James Dickerson, a very controversial book, according to Willene, was absent.

“I think the magic show is a great idea. And tomorrow, I think I may go down to the main library for some more research.”

“Good. Then you can pick up a few special things for me. If we’re going to have a party, I’m going to need some things.”

Connor’s smile was wide and genuine. “The children are going to adore this. I get the feeling that there haven’t been a lot of special events for them.”

“Not since their mother died, and Ms. Talla wasn’t exactly the kind of mother who liked a ruckus. She was quiet, distant—more of a reserved woman, you’d say.”

Connor slid the last book back into place on the shelf. Why had Clay Sumner married such a woman? Family? Refinement? Connections for his political ambitions? Or love?”

“Connor?”

Willene’s voice brought her back to the library. “Yes?”

“Jeff is staying out at the barn for a few nights. He says someone’s been hanging around the property for the past few days. Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em, but he wants to see if he can catch ‘em. If you see something, it’s probably him.”

“Thanks.” Connor followed Willene out of the room. “Has anything been stolen?”

“No. Not yet. It isn’t good, though, for strangers to be snoopin’ around Mr. Sumner’s place. When Ms. Talla died, those reporters were crawling out of the shrubbery. Now we don’t like for folks to sneak around at all. Used to be Mr. Clay didn’t care about locals fishing in the lakes or walking in the woods. That’s all changed, though. No trespassing, and he prosecutes.”

“With livestock around, that’s the best policy,” Connor agreed. She and Willene were at the kitchen. The hallway ahead of her tunneled into darkness. Long-dead Sumners hung in portraits and photographs. Clay had jokingly referred to it as the rogues’ gallery. Like most old portraits, though, the occupants bore extremely serious expressions, not anything even resembling roguish smiles. Connor suddenly thought of Sally and her fear of the hallway and stairs.

“I haven’t seen Sally’s smiling face today. Is she ill?”

Willene snorted. “Sick from staying out all last night with Jeff. Keeping watch, she called it. I call it snooping, and the quickest way I know for her to get in serious trouble. Jeff may bed her, but he won’t marry her if she gets herself in the family way.”

“Maybe I should talk with her. I mean about birth control.”

Willene’s eyes behind her thick glasses were unreadable. “It’s a kind offer. Maybe you should. The girl is moony-eyed over Jeff. No telling what schemes are ricocheting between her ears. Men never marry a woman they’ve bedded. She don’t believe me when I tell her that. But it’s always been a fact that a man won’t buy the cow when he can get the milk free.”

“I’ll talk with her, then. Goodnight.” Connor stepped down the hallway, realizing that Sally’s fear had rubbed off on her. Even on the brightest days the hallway was dim. And the portraits were so foreboding. The ornate mirrors along the walls only captured the dour expressions and reflected them back. She didn’t linger as she hurried to her room.

Connor couldn’t decide whether it was the thunder or her overactive subconscious which made her sit bolt upright in the bed. She was straining, listening. For what? The windowpanes rattled with the force of the thunder.

Slipping out of the warm bed, she padded on bare feet across the oak boards to the large windows. She loved her bedroom. She had a view of the pecan orchard and the barn. Lightning popped behind the barn, illuminating the entire area for a split second. The rain hadn’t started yet, and Connor pressed her hand against the pane to stop the trembling brought about by the thunder.

The giggle was unexpected.

She heard it, seeping softly under the door of her room. Or was it outside?

No one had reason to be wandering past her door so late at night. Since the children were in town, no one else was even staying on the second floor. Willene preferred living on the first floor, beside her domain, the kitchen. Sally lived with her relatives down the road, and Jeff stayed at the barn, when he stayed.

Lightning played once more across the sky, a magnificent three-pronged attack that showed the pecan trees twisting in a powerful wind. Maybe if the storm blew through, the sun would be out in the morning.

When the giggle came again, Connor went to the door of her suite and pressed her ear against it. The hall was so quiet. She could feel her pulse in her throat, a sensation brought about by fear. Who would be outside her door laughing?

No one she wanted to meet.

Still, she forced the lock open and eased the door wide so that she could see the landing and the stairs. There was nothing except the creaks and moans of an old house fighting the push of the wind.

Connor closed and locked the door and went back to her bedroom. Maybe she’d imagined it. It was possible that she’d been dreaming and the giggle was a part of the dream she’d brought forward with her to a waking state.

Possible, but not likely.

Her feet were freezing on the cold floor. Any moment the rain would begin to fall. Even as she thought, the first drop spattered against the glass. Connor was drawn to the window once more.

A sudden movement among the gray pecan trunks caught her eye. Someone dashed behind a tree in the orchard. It was during one of the lightningless moments, she had a glimpse of movement only. Perhaps a slender person.

Like Sally.

As soon as she thought it, she realized that if Sally was rendezvouzing with Jeff, she might well be giggling. Connor sighed. She’d have to have a talk with the girl as soon as possible, before it was too late.

She went back to her bed, sliding beneath the warm sheets and the quilts Willene had piled on.

Connor remained hidden beneath the large dining room table. To her left she could see a pair of shiny men’s shoes, black leather, expensive. There was the swish of tuxedo pants as the legs walked in front of her.

“And now, for the young lady, a flower!”

Renata’s giggle was reward enough for Connor, even though she couldn’t see the child’s face. As Clay paused again, she handed up the cane that she’d loaded with the scarves. There was another round of applause as Clay, in the role of magician, produced the multicolored wisps of material.

Willene had draped the table with several sheets as a backdrop for Clay the Magnificent, but it was actually to give Connor a place to hide while she worked as magician’s assistant. Her role, by her own insistence, was strictly behind the scenes.

Renata and Danny had chosen not to go trick-or-treating in town. Instead, they’d come to Oaklawn. As Danny had so succinctly pointed out, there was no way they were going to get anything better in their Halloween sacks than Willene’s homemade cookies.

The tricks she and Clay had perfected were all juvenile, but with some dim lighting and a bit of showmanship on Clay’s part, they were coming off well. She could hear Sally clapping and whistling, too. Connor grinned to herself. Sally had denied being in the pecan orchard in the middle of a storm with Jeff, but she’d taken Connor’s advice about birth control to heart. Even though she swore she wasn’t sleeping with Jeff—and accused Willene of spying on her—she had her first gynecologist’s appointment set for the next week. Connor had agreed to accompany her.

There was a stomping of feet and applause, and Connor knew the magic show was over. According to plan, Willene herded the spectators into the kitchen for cocoa and cookies so that Connor could crawl out from under the table.

Just to be on the safe side, she eased out the back of the table and raised her eyes to table level, scanning the room.

“You can come out,” Clay said softly. He stepped forward and closed the door. “You were wonderful, Connor. Thanks.”

“It sounded like you were a big hit.” Feeling a bit undignified, Connor crawled out from under the table and stood up. She was grinning widely.

Clay laughed, his blue eyes more carefree than they’d been since Connor had met him. “The kids enjoyed it. And so did I. I guess I have enough of the ham in me to love being center stage, even as a cornball magician.”

“Happy Halloween,” Connor said, laughing at Clay’s boyish exuberance. “Maybe I should say ‘Trick or treat.’ “

Clay’s eyes darkened. “Meet me in the orchard tonight, after the children are in bed. Please.”

Connor swallowed and cursed her own weakness. She wanted to meet him; just the invitation made her pulse race. “No.” Her voice faltered and she mentally cursed herself again. “No.” This time she sounded more certain.

“I’ve thought about nothing but you since the day we went riding.”

Connor put the tips of her fingers on the sheet-covered table to steady the trembling she felt in all her limbs. Clay was less than five feet away. Too far—and way too close.

“We agreed that we’d be friends.” Connor held her voice firm. The words sounded right even to her. It was a bad idea, getting involved with the boss … especially a boss who was known for womanizing.

“Connor, I see something in you that I’ve never seen in another woman. You care about people. You care about my children.”

“I’m paid to care about your children.”

Clay shook his head. “Easy enough to say, and believe me, plenty of women would say it. But even if you weren’t getting paid, you’d care. Are you getting paid to counsel Sally?”

The question stopped her. “Who told you?”

“Willene. She said you were taking the girl to the doctor.”

“No one’s ever explained certain things to Sally. She’s an accident waiting to happen.” Connor turned away. “Sally would die of mortification if she knew we were discussing this.”

“See?” Clay took a step in her direction. “You’re worried about her feelings even now. More than about your own.”

Connor sighed. “Okay, guilty as charged. I care about Sally’s feelings. She’s a cute kid with too much innocence. I care if she gets herself pregnant and ruins the rest of her life. That doesn’t have a thing to do with us. Clay, we’re either boss and employee or I’m out of here. There’s a rule in my family. It may be the most useful advice my father ever gave me and it has to do with separation of work and pleasure.”

Clay stood very still. “Look at me, Connor.” She was helpless to resist his request. She met his blue gaze and felt her body tremble again. Once started, was there anything she would deny him? The question sent a flush of heat across her body.

“Will you answer one question for me?” he asked.

“Is it for the prosecution or for the defense?” She had to inject some lightness into the moment or she felt she’d snap from the tension between them.

“Are you involved with anyone?”

“You mean, am I dating anyone?” She almost didn’t believe he’d asked that question. Almost. But the way he was looking at her made her realize he was serious.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Clay, I don’t see …”

“It’s a simple question. You may not see the point in it, but I do. Please.” His voice was soft as he walked hesitantly toward her. At the table he stopped and rested one hand on the back of a chair. “Are you?”

“No, I’m not.” It would be easier to tell the truth than hedge. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t be.”

Clay’s smile was slightly crooked. “I can always keep you so busy here at Oaklawn that you don’t have time to meet other men. No one comes here except Jeff and the hands.”

“There has been one other male visitor.” Connor had almost forgotten about Harlan Sumner’s visit. “He said he’d be back when you least expected him.”

She’d meant to tease Clay, to try and lighten the sexual awareness between them. She hadn’t anticipated the sudden change.

“And who might that be?” Clay’s mouth, usually so sensual, was hard.

“It was your brother, Clay. I was only kidding.”

“Harlan was here? He was at Oaklawn? Why didn’t he see me? Why didn’t Willene tell me?”

“The man said he was your brother.” Connor wasn’t certain now. “He was tall, heavier than you, blond hair. But he didn’t look like you. Heavy drawl. It was a few weeks ago.”

“That’s Harlan! I wonder why he never mentioned it to me.”

“I tackled him in the barn. I thought he was an intruder.”

The tension eased gradually from Clay’s tone. “You actually tackled him?”

“I’m afraid so. He rolled in the dirt for a minute, but he wasn’t hurt.”

“I’ve seen Harlan downtown several times, and he didn’t mention coming out here.”

“Maybe he was humiliated at being tumbled by a woman.” Connor took a few breaths. Clay’s good temper was restored. Whatever mood had struck him had passed on. Maybe he’d thought it was a newspaper reporter snooping around the grounds.

“Harlan hardly ever comes to Oaklawn. He hated it out here as a kid. Did he say what he wanted?”

Connor shrugged. “To check out the new horsewoman, I suppose. He gave me a start, and I don’t think I did his growth patterns any good, either.”

Clay chuckled. “Harlan needs a good scaring every now and then. He did his best to frighten me to death when we were children. I can remember one Halloween …”