Deception (33 page)

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Clay’s voice made her stomach clench. “I thought you’d be on your way to Oaklawn by now.” She tried not to let her disappointment show. But as she’d lain on her bed, she’d been counting the minutes until it was time for Clay to come home.

“I’m at the office still, and I’ve got some bad news.”

“Trouble?”

“Benedict, my campaign manager, is coming to pick me up in fifteen minutes. We’re taking a flight out of Brookley Airfield to Emelle.”

“Where’s Emelle?”

“The better question is what is Emelle, and it could be a disaster for me, politically, if I don’t get up there and check some facts out.”

“What’s happening?” Connor was completely lost.

“Emelle has a waste-disposal plant there, and it’s come to my attention that some nuclear waste from the North, and possibly some chemical waste from the Midwest has been dumped there.”

Connor didn’t follow. “That’s bad news, but how does that involve you?” Clay’s term as a state senator had been up for at least three years.

“It could be bad, Connor. There are rumors flying around that when I was in the state senate I gave permission to these out-of-state companies to dump their waste on Alabama soil. That I did it for campaign contributions.”

“Clay!” She understood completely now. “Why would they say that?”

“It’s been cleverly orchestrated. My opponent, or I should say, the man who will be my opponent when he declares, claims that he has documents with my signature showing I took money from these companies. He’s asked for a private meeting in Emelle, which is a little town on the western border of the state. The gist of his offer is that he won’t ruin me if I tuck my tail and don’t declare as a candidate for this Senate race.”

“That’s out-and-out blackmail!” Connor was outraged.

“Even worse, it’s a complete lie. Whatever documents they have are fabricated.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” Cool relief touched Connor.

There was silence on Clay’s end of the phone. “It isn’t that simple, sweetheart. This seat is crucial to the Republicans, especially with a Democratic president in office. The power of the Senate could very easily swing on which party wins this seat in Alabama. Sam Black was a very powerful Democrat. His death has left a big vacancy, and a seat the Republicans want very badly. They have a lot of money, and they’re capable of almost anything. They have more dirty tricks than a snake has twists.”

“But you just said the documents were fakes. All you have to do is show that …”

“Listen, I have to go up there and take a look at what they claim to have. I’ll be able to decide what to do after that. I’m afraid this is going to get very nasty, Connor. This is only the beginning of what they’re going to try to do to me. I haven’t even officially declared my candidacy yet.”

“What are you saying, Clay?” Her entire nervous system was strumming like a piano wire.

“We’ll talk when I get home. I’m planning on seeing them tonight, and then heading for Montgomery. If Benedict thinks it’s necessary, I might have to go to Washington. This is the worst possible time, with you feeling bad after your spill down the stairs. I know you need some comforting and attention. If there was any way to avoid this trip, I would, but I can’t.”

Connor felt as if she’d been slapped, but she was determined not to show it. “Good luck, Clay. And don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than you think. The fall only made me sore. If there’s anything I can do on this end, call me.”

“I love you, Connor. I’m sorry. Keep an eye on those children for me, and explain to them what’s happened.”

“I love you, too. And don’t worry about things here.” She heard the click on his end of the line and she replaced her receiver. Without thinking, she went to the closet and selected clothes. Numbness had crept over her entire body, and that was the way she wanted to keep it. Just move, keep moving. She brushed her hair and went down to dinner. Renata wasn’t going to like the news, but there was little she could do about it.

Throughout dinner, Danny kept the table from silence. Connor, on one side, and Renata, on the other, pushed the food around their plates and tried to converse. When the meal was finally over, everyone got up with a sigh of relief.

Renata had taken the news of her father’s business trip with less angst than Connor had anticipted. The children seemed more tired than upset, and it was with relief that Connor turned off the lights in the den and library and started up to bed after the children. Clay’s news, on top of the events of the past forty-eight hours, had taken its toll. She felt nerveless, boneless, unable to think. Sleep was the only thing that promised any relief.

The stairs were endless, and Connor felt as if she needed to sit down and rest when she got to the top. Instead, she inserted her key and pushed the door to her suite open.

“Jesus Christ!” The image of the man reflected in the mirror made her jump backward into the hall. She recognized him in the next second, and felt a tidal wave of anger sweep through her.

“What are you doing in my rooms?”

“The door was open, so I came in to wait for you to finish dinner and come up here.”

The thump of her heart was a clear signal of her anger. The first wave of fright had passed. “You have no business in my rooms. Get out!”

“Spoken like the true lady of the manor. That
is
what you hope to be, isn’t it? You aren’t here for the good job and exorbitant salary, you’re here for the long haul. You’re here with the intention of becoming Mrs. Clay Sumner, aren’t you?”

“Get out!” Connor swung the door open and pointed down the stairs. Clay’s brother only chuckled.

“How dramatic, my dear. Living in this big old hulk of a house must have given you some airs. The only problem is that this is my house, too. One of those old southern habits, leaving the estate to both children. That way, you can make them rivals and get them to hate each other even more than they normally would.”

“Take this up with Clay at a later date. For now, get out of my rooms.”

“Where is the dear boy?”

Connor realized that storming at Harlan was going to have no effect, except maybe to rouse the rest of the household, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“He’s in Emelle.”

“I told him those contributions were going to come back to haunt him.” Harlan tsk-tsked. “When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.”

“Whatever you’re implying, I know Clay didn’t take money to let some company pollute this state. He cares about Alabama.”

“It’s a pity,” Harlan grinned, as he patted the sofa beside him. “You’re completely won over by Clay. If he could screw every woman in the state, he’d win this election by a landslide.”

“You’re one of the most disgusting people I’ve ever met.” Connor’s voice was controlled and very soft. “I don’t know how you can be related to Clay.”

Harlan laughed out loud. “The problem with a woman like you is that you expect more than a few easy months. That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”

“Harlan, get out of here.” Weariness was nipping at Connor’s soul. She didn’t want to argue with him, he was just too nasty for her.

“No, Connor darling, you’re the one who’s going to leave. I just came by to see how much it was going to cost, this time.”

“When my contract is up, I’ll leave, if that’s what Clay wants.”

“You’ve developed into a real liability. If Mitch Wolfe is already bringing out the Emelle situation, he won’t hesitate to blast Clay with a morals campaign. And you’re the silver bullet, Connor. You can go straight into Clay’s political heart and kill him dead.”

“I’m not going to talk about this with you, Harlan. If Clay has a problem, he can talk with me.”

“How about fifty thousand, right now, in cash, and you pack up and leave before he gets back?”

Connor pointed to the door. “Go.”

“Sixty thousand. That’s a good stake for your little horse farm. And I know a guy in Louisiana who’ll help you setup. Racing is legal there, thoroughbred and quarterhorse, take your pick. There’s also a big hunter-jumper crowd.”

Connor rubbed her forehead. “If you weren’t so pathetic, I’d be angry. Now go, before I call Clay and tell him about this.”

Harlan got slowly to his feet. “You think you love him, Ms. Tremaine, but let me assure you, you don’t have a clue to Clay. Once you finally see him without that charming facade of his, you’ll leave here screaming. Until that time, see if you can convince him to keep his pants zipped, unless you’re certain that no one can catch you. No unwanted photographs or pregnancies. Clay has never been discreet. That’s because I’ve always been able to clean up behind him. But I’m tired of it. And by the way, if you aren’t on some kind of protection, let me know. For your sake, and the baby’s. Pregnancy isn’t a trap that works well with Clay.”

Connor pointed at the door. She was too sick, too disgusted, to say another word. Without waiting for Harlan to leave, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door. Leaning back against it, she felt nausea strike. She pressed her back and hands to the door, waiting for the sickness to pass. When she could open her eyes without getting dizzy, she went into the bathroom, put a clean cloth under the cold tap, and went to bed with the cloth over her neck.

Her very bones felt as if they weighed five hundred pounds, and her heart was a rock that was too large for her chest. She didn’t believe a thing Harlan had said. Not a single thing. No facade covered Clay. And no matter what Richard said, Clay wasn’t in the habit of making women suffer. There was a point where the woman had to assume some responsibility for her actions. Talla had given as good as she’d gotten.

Connor’s thoughts whirled chaotically. Who was responsible for trying to hurt her? There had been a knife or something sharp on the steps. A booby trap. And her girth had been cut. Who?

She tossed on the bed. Renata? She didn’t want to believe that the young girl was capable of such a thing, but if it was her, it only showed how desperate she was to protect herself from the loss of her father. It was desperation, not wickedness—wasn’t it?

And the woman standing at the end of the bed? Connor sat up, exhausted by her own inability to lie still. Who was the woman she’d seen? Had someone else really been in the house? God, even as she tried to think about it she doubted what her own eyes had seen. Everyone was so determined to make her believe that she couldn’t have Clay that maybe she was seeing things to make herself believe she should leave Alabama. It was a crazy thought, but not any crazier than what was happening around her every day. She had to talk to someone, someone she trusted. Even if that someone was furious with her at the moment. She dialed Elvie Adams’ number. She and the Baldwin County horse trainer had shared a couple of rides and some great conversations. But Elvie’s telephone rang without an answer.

It was still a respectable time of evening, just a bit after nine. Her hand hesitated on the buttons, but she dialed Malcolm Brian’s listed number.

“Hello.”

The sweet voice, soft and delicate, had to be Richard’s mother, the incredible Sugar, or Shu-gah, as Richard pronounced it.

“Mrs. Brian, this is Connor Tremaine. Is Richard in?”

“You’re that woman who works for Clay Sumner, aren’t you?” Connor didn’t know whether to smile at the audacity of the question or take offense at the tone. “Yes, I’m
that woman. “

“Richard isn’t here.”

Connor had the feel that even if he was, Sugar wasn’t going to tell her so.

“Would you ask him to call me before he leaves?”

“He’s already gone. He took an earlier flight this afternoon. He was very distressed after he came back from Oaklawn. Practically snapped my head off in front of Mrs. Maxwell. Richard never displayed that rude type of behavior until he went out to that godforsaken state. His manners have deteriorated and he’s ruined himself there.” She as much as added, “I hope you’re happy.”

“I’ll call him out there. Thank you.” Connor hung up fast. Based on that one snippet of conversation, Connor understood a lot better why Richard was always complaining about Alabama. No one could come home to that and not feel abused.

Even as she replaced the receiver, she was smiling. She’d call Richard in a few days, after his temper had cooled. Then they’d be friends again. No real damage had been done. She was lucky to have someone who worried about her the way Richard did. Very lucky.

Still dressed, Connor eased back down in the bed. She’d try to doze off, but if she couldn’t, maybe a walk would do the trick. She liked walking at night, especially around Oaklawn, where the stars were so bright.

And on the off-chance that someone was wandering around the orchard or the edge of the woods, Connor intended to catch them. Maybe she couldn’t force the truth out of Renata, but she’d have no compunction about twisting a few adult arms and wringing out a few answers. Clinging to that dim plan of action, Connor drifted off to sleep.

Uncertain what woke her, Connor blinked into full consciousness. The room was dark, the window only a duller black than the rest of the room. Thunder rumbled a warning. A weak flash of lightning illuminated the room for a moment, and Connor automatically tensed. She expected to see someone in her room.

In the burst of uneven light, there was no one in evidence.

Even so, Connor felt her skin creeping along in legions of goosebumps. She was spooked, and she didn’t know why.

It took her a moment to realize she was still fully dressed, her slacks and shirt wrinkled. In her disoriented state she couldn’t remember going to bed, but sleep had been fraught with fragments of dreams, moments of tension and danger. Now that she was awake, alone in her wing of the house on a stormy night, she felt as if all her nightmares were real.

Reaching out to snap on the bedside light, she heard the click of the switch with no results. “Damn,” she whispered. The electricity was out. If there had been a prayer of going back to sleep, it was gone now. She swung her legs off the bed and sat up. Somewhere she’d put a flashlight. Now, where? She went over it in her mind, trying to remember the last place she’d seen one. On the small bookcase to the right of the fireplace. In her socks she drifted across the room.