Deception (38 page)

“I mean, money isn’t the issue with me.”

“Money’s always the issue. It’s just the price that’s in question. Did you ever hear the joke about …”

“I don’t have time for jokes. Dr. Sumner.” She reassembled the bridle and picked up the last one she had to clean. “This is it. Then I’ve got work to do with the horses. If there’s something you really think you have to say to me, you’ve got about ten minutes.”

“So, you don’t like jokes.” Harlan was unruffled. “What about history?”

“U.S., or western civilization?”

“You are a smart-mouthed little thing, aren’t you?” Harlan smiled, but his eyes were small and mean. “Personal history, sweet thing. Clay’s personal history. Or has he told you about little Melanie?”

Connor felt her lip curl up in a sneer and couldn’t stop it. “In fact, he has. I know all about her.”

“You do, do you?” Harlan’s smile said she did not.

“Clay told me all about her. There’s something you need to understand, Harlan. Clay has been completely honest with me. I know everything about the girl in high school, about his wife, and about Melanie. There’s no dirty little secret you can drag out and slime up our relationship with, so you might as well give it up.”

“Then he told you about the abortion?”

Connor tried not to let her reaction show, but she could tell by Harlan’s face that she hadn’t been successful.

“Maybe he did forget that little minor point, eh?” Harlan got up and walked around the tackroom. He sauntered over to one of the medicine cabinets, giving his back to Connor. “Let’s see, Talla used to keep a little libation around here.” He pulled open the door and pushed aside jars of salve and bandages. He reached his arm way back into the corner and drew out a bottle of Maker’s Mark. “Talla always had good taste in bourbon and clothes. She was piss-poor when it came to picking out men, though.” He turned back to Connor. “How about a little nip? You look like you could use one. Your face is absolutely bloodless.”

Connor still held the bridle she’d been cleaning. It was all she could do to put it down without letting her hands tremble out of control. No matter how much she wanted to know, she couldn’t ask Harlan what he meant.

“Why don’t you give it up, Harlan? You can’t come between Clay and me. Not with this kind of stuff.”

Harlan put the bottle of bourbon on the windowsill and applauded. “Brazen it out, Ms. Tremaine. I admire your pluck. Not many women would try to stand up to the fact that the man they loved had gotten a nineteen-year-old girl pregnant, then tried to buy her off, and when she wouldn’t leave, forced her into having an abortion.”

“How can you say this about your own brother?” Connor almost hissed the words.

“Because that selfish bastard convinced me to do the abortion.” Harlan’s mouth had tightened into a line of hatred. “That’s always the story of my life. Clay fucks up, and he gets me to sweep up the mess after him. People look at Clay like he’s a hero, someone magnificent. The truth is, he’s a million times worse than me. He’s just smooth enough to get away with it.”

“I’m sure he didn’t hold a gun to your head and make you do anything against your will.” Connor held onto her belief in Clay. She clamped her mind around it and refused to consider Harlan’s accusations.

“Oh, no, Clay would never use force, at least not with me. I’m his brother. He used his charm and reasoning and the power he would have if only I helped him get out of this one last scrape. And so I did. What he forgot to tell me was that the girl didn’t want an abortion. Didn’t know she was going to have one. Can you imagine what it’s like when you’re with a girl who comes out from anesthesia and finds that you’re the one who’s killed her fetus?”

No matter how hard she tried, Connor couldn’t block out the images Harlan threw at her. “She didn’t know she was having an abortion?”

“Clay told her it was a routine exam. He brought her to my office late at night. There was no nurse present, at Clay’s request. He’d given her something to make her sleepy, and she was already incoherent when I got there. I assumed she was there of her own free will, and that she’d decided the abortion was the best thing since Clay wouldn’t divorce Talla and marry her.”

The deception was unbelievable. Incredible. Impossible for Clay to commit. Connor’s body was cold and sweating. Sickness pushed at the back of her throat, but she held it at bay.

“You’re telling me that you performed an abortion on an unwilling woman, and that Clay brought her to your office against her will? That he deliberately deceived her and you?”

“Now you’ve finally got the picture.” The fury had left Harlan’s face, but the hatred was still in his eyes. “This is the man you’re going to marry?”

“Where is the woman now? Where is Melanie?”

“Why?”

“I don’t believe a word you’re saying. I want to hear it from her.”

“That might be a little hard to do.” Harlan’s smile was sharklike.

“Surely wherever she is there are telephones or airports. I can find her, and it’s worth it to me to make the effort.” A small drumbeat of relief sounded in the back of Connor’s head. If Harlan wouldn’t give her the woman’s whereabouts, there was a good reason. Probably because he’d made up the whole incredible tale to discredit Clay, and hopefully to get her to move on.

“She’s dead, Connor.”

That was the one answer she hadn’t anticipated. Her hopes crashed. “How did she die?”

Harlan rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger as if he were debating how much to tell. “She was so distressed over the abortion, she lost her mind. Clay’s deceit, the moral implications of the abortion.” He took a long swallow of the bourbon as if he needed it. “Even though she’d been an unwilling participant, it was all too much for her. She wasn’t an angel by any stretch of the imagination, she’d been around a bit. But she’d had a strict religious upbringing and became convinced that she was going to burn in hell because of the baby.”

“Good God.” Connor didn’t bother to hide the fact that her legs had betrayed her. She could no longer stand. She sank onto a bale of hay.

“Clay wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. He paid her tuition into a school out on the West Coast. A very good school, but Melanie wasn’t emotionally or socially ready for that scene. Dreams about the baby tormented her at night, and during the day she couldn’t seem to fit in. Then, I guess she fell into the wrong crowd. Drugs, sex, all the usual. Except she came apart at the seams. Somehow she got back to Mobile and back to Clay’s townhouse.” Harlan smiled. “And wouldn’t you know, Clay had to call on his brother once again to clean up his mess.”

“How?” Connor had to hear the end of it. She was beyond feeling anything except a terrible dread.

“I had her institutionalized under a false name. It took them about three months to get the drugs out of her system enough so that they could begin some work on her, but the prognosis didn’t look good. She was tortured by that dead baby. It was horrible to watch her talk about it and how she could hear it crying for her, all torn …”

“Stop it!” Connor tried to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t. “Just tell me how she died.”

“Fell off the roof of the mental institution. Seven-floor drop.”

“I see.”

“Do you, Connor? Do you really see what getting too close to Clay Sumner can mean for you? Talla thought her name would protect her. It didn’t. Not even the Bienvilles could save her or avenge her. Do you really think a horse trainer from California with no family and no friends in this town could stand a chance if Clay ever really decided to get rid of you?”

“I cannot believe this.” Whatever it cost her, she couldn’t let Harlan see the effect he’d had on her. “Can’t, or don’t want to?”

“You’ve told me that your brother is literally guilty of murder and a host of other criminal offenses. I could go to the police with this. I could ruin him and you, too. Why are you telling me this, Harlan?”

There was a snort and Harlan took a long swig out of the bottle before he lowered it from his mouth. “Not for Clay’s sake.” He stared at her. “I’m not sure I know all the reasons.”

“Would it have anything to do with the power Clay can obtain? Power you think you can control?” Connor’s voice shook with fury.

“You’re right. I want Clay to win that Senate seat. I need for him to win.” His hand trembled as he lifted the bottle again. “Mostly I don’t care what Clay does with his women. After Talla and Melanie, I didn’t think I’d have to worry about any serious involvements. But I knew when you got to town and he was talking about you that he wanted you bad. I had hoped I could get you to leave, before it got to all of this.”

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

“You’ll hold Clay back. You won’t even mean to, but you will. He’s already losing sight of the goal. He’s talking about you and horses and Oaklawn, just like he’s going to come out here and live the life of a country gentleman. He can’t have this and Washington, too.”

Connor caught a glimmer of hope. “What if he wants this, Harlan? He has a right to have it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Connor. He has no choice. I didn’t, and neither does he. Clay may think he can change his life, but it’s too late. He’s done too much to back away now, and deep down inside, he knows it. If you try to change his course, he’ll only grow to hate you.”

“I’m willing to risk that.”

“And I’m not. I’m sick of cleaning up after Clay. Talla, Melanie. Sick to death of it.” Harlan looked straight at her. “I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars, and I won’t ask any questions about which direction you’re going in. Just leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m sick of tidying up after Clay and his dark obsessions, but I’ve gone too far down the road with Clay to back out now. If you won’t go, I guess you’re the mess I’ll be cleaning up next.”

Connor replaced the telephone receiver with a less than gentle slap. It was the seventh call she’d placed to Clay. He had not responded from Emelle, from Washington, or from his Mobile law offices. Benedict Ashton, his campaign manager, was not able to take her calls.

Was he avoiding her? There seemed no other answer for his behavior. At a time when she needed to talk with him more than anything in the world, he was unavailable to her.

She picked up the phone again and dialed Richard Brian’s number. She doubted that Richard could shed any light on the things Harlan had told her, but he was her only shot, and the one thing Connor couldn’t do was sit around and wait for Clay to find time to call her back at his convenience.

There was no answer at Richard’s house, so Connor dialed his agent, several old friends, and the gym where he worked out on a daily basis. She finally hit it lucky.

“What’s going on?” Richard’s voice was breathless.

Connor choked. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Connor? What the hell’s going on?”

“I don’t know what to do.” She couldn’t hold back the tears. “Clay’s asked me to marry him, but Harlan just left. If what he said about Clay is true, I won’t stay here. I can’t stay here.”

“Harlan, huh.” Richard hesitated. “It must be something bad, to tear you up like this. Listen, Connor, I think Harlan is one of the biggest bullies around, but before you do anything like marrying Clay, maybe you’d better check out whatever it is Harlan has to say. There are some things about Talla you should know.”

“It’s not Talla,” Connor managed. “This is worse.”

“Worse?” Richard sounded as if he didn’t believe her. “What could be worse?”

When she only sobbed, he changed his tone. “More than likely the humidity has inflamed your brain. You need to get away from there, just to let the swelling go down. Listen, pack a light bag and catch a flight out here. I’ll meet you at the airport and we can sort this out together, in person.”

It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it beat the hell out of staying at Oaklawn with a man she didn’t know whether to love or run from. “I’ll catch the next available flight. When I get there, Richard, you have to tell me everything you know about Clay. Everything. There are too many secrets.”

“Leave a message on my machine with your flight number and time of arrival, and I’ll be there. I don’t know what in the devil’s happened down there, but just remember: if it isn’t as bad as you think, then you can go back. If you don’t want to go back, then I’ll help you get your things and your horses and we’ll take it one step at a time.”

“Thank you, Richard.”

“Not necessary. Just pack up and get moving. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Connor depressed the switch-hook and held it a moment. She needed a number for the airport and she didn’t have a telephone book handy. She lifted her hand from the button, There was silence, then the sound of another receiver going into place. Finally she got a dial tone.

Someone in the house or at the barn had been listening to her conversation.

A chill danced down her back, tingling all the way into her legs. It could have been innocent, someone picking up the phone to use it. It could also have been someone deliberately listening, someone who wanted to know her plans. Maybe even the same someone who’d cut her girth and left a knife on a set of steep stairs for her.

The bedroom door was locked, but Connor double-checked it. Where in the hell was Clay? She didn’t want to leave without seeing him, and she didn’t want to see him. As she went to the closet and pulled out a suitcase, she moaned. Never in her life had she ever felt so totally confused. And afraid. Fear, for her personal safety, was a very new and terrible sensation.

Hardly looking at the clothes she packed, Connor filled the bag. She’d drive to the airport and get on the first plane headed west. That’s all she had to think about—getting to the airport.

Outside her door she heard a giggle. The hair on her arms and neck slowly stood on end. Easing to the door, Connor put her ear against it. The old oak door gave back only silence. For good measure she opened the door and looked out. The hall was empty. Connor’s fingers dug at the wooden door frame. She’d heard the giggle, hadn’t she? But if someone had been outside her door, they couldn’t have gotten down the stairs so fast. Was she losing her grip on her sanity?