Intimate Betrayal (13 page)

Lynnette jerked her head back in response. “Max? That's weird. It's probably just transference. Maybe you just have him on your mind.”

Reese sighed, not totally convinced. She knew it meant something, she just didn't know what. Then again, Lynn was probably right. She was the one who had a second degree in psychology.

“Speaking of Max. You haven't spoken of him since I got here. What's up?”

Reluctantly, Reese explained about the scene she'd
witnessed the previous afternoon between Maxwell and Victoria and her “interview” with Carmen.

Lynnette slapped her thigh and laughed. “Girl, you sure know how to use your investigative skills to your advantage.”

Reese bit back a laugh and looked away.

“So why haven't you called him?”

Reese shrugged. “Maybe I just don't want to hear whatever lie he's bound to tell me.”

“Why are you so sure he's going to lie?”

“You didn't see them, Lynn. I did.” Her eyes flashed. “Sure, Carmen may think it's over and Max may even ‘say' it's over. But it sure as hell didn't look like it to me.”

Lynnette pursed her lips and stared at her friend good and hard. “When was the last time things looked like how they really were? Wake up, girl, and call that man. At least give him the benefit of the doubt. Anything could have been happening.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of.”

Lynnette pointed an accusing finger. “Afraid, that's the magic word. You'd prefer to walk around afraid of what you've only conjured up in your own head, rather than putting your fears aside and finding out the real deal? Is that what you're telling me? At the absolute worst, you'll find out that Maxwell Knight is a real dog and you'd be far better served devoting your time and attention to someone worthy. Or, you'll discover that what you saw, wasn't what you thought it was and that Max is just as crazy about you as you are about him.” Lynnette folded her arms beneath her small breasts and concluded her monologue.

“Well thank you, Ann Landers.”

They both burst out laughing.

“Seriously, Reese, give the man a break. From everything
you told me, he seems to be honest.” She pushed her designer glasses further up her slender nose.

Reese sighed. “I suppose you're right.”

“Of course I am.”

 

Maxwell continued to work on his new software design without success. His thoughts wouldn't stay focused. They kept drifting back to the early-morning phone call from Victoria. She had some nerve trying to contact him. What could she possibly have to say at this point?

He tossed his mechanical pencil to the side and got up from his seat. His jaw clenched as he paced his office. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Where was Reese? Why hadn't she come into the office?

He turned toward the phone, intent on calling her at the hotel, when his intercom buzzed.

“Yes, Carmen?”

“Reese is on line two.”

“Thanks.” A slow smile spread across his face as he depressed the red light on the phone.

 

“I thought you were an early riser,” he said in greeting.

“Oh, I've been up for quite a while. I've been working…and thinking.”

His guard went up. “I take it you've made some progress…in both areas?”

“You could say that,” she countered, pacing her words.

“Do you have something on your mind that you want to get off, Reese?”

“As a matter of fact I do. Let's start with Victoria Davenport.”

L
arry Templeton sat parked directly across the street from Maxwell's office. He had the perfect spot for seeing everything that came in and out of the building without appearing to do so. So far everything looked fine. If Murphy had anyone out there, they were damned good.

He took a sip of his coffee and resumed his watch. Life was so strange, he thought. He'd spent most of his life watching and waiting for the perfect moment—waiting for the signal. When he joined the Air Force, he always dreamed of being a fighter pilot like the ones he'd seen on television and in the movies while growing up. He would have never imagined that his skill with high-powered rifles would have led him to the Special Forces unit as a sharpshooter.

He shook his head in wonder and in sadness. He never thought much of his uncanny marksmanship. It was expected from every red-blooded male in his household, which included five brothers. Hunting was their livelihood, and any man that
couldn't shoot the eyes right out of their prey, couldn't eat. That was his dad's rule from the time each of them was old enough to hold a gun.

For the most part, he was proud of his career. There was only that one blotch—one error—one fatal mistake that had nearly ruined everything he'd worked for. He'd spent the last fifteen years paying penance for something over which he had no control. He still had nightmares. If only he hadn't dropped his radio and knocked out communications, things would be so different—he would have known. If only the little girl hadn't walked out into the yard that night. If only… But they were following orders. They were trained to follow orders no matter what.

Larry shook his head, sweeping away the damning memories. And now, the entire scenario had come full circle. The descendants had taken the places of their predecessors. He couldn't let anything go wrong. Not this time. James was depending on him, just as he had fifteen years ago. He'd allowed James to take the heat for him then. Not again. He wouldn't let him down.

Larry resumed his watch.

 

Claudia stared into the bubbly dishwater, mindlessly holding a plate in her hand as she listened to her husband. Her heart ached.

“You've been a good wife, Claudia. Better than I deserved.” James shook his head in regret. “I allowed my work to consume me, consume us. I wouldn't let myself be a husband to you or a father to my son.”

She turned away from the sink, dried her hands, and sat down at the table. Her warm brown eyes swept over her husband's face. “James, we all make choices in this life. I could have chosen to leave. But I didn't. When I took those wedding vows thirty-five years ago, I meant it when I said
‘for better, for worst…until death do us part.' I can't blame you for the direction our marriage went in. I was one of the players. I allowed just as much as you did. I didn't fight for you, James, the way I should have. I didn't demand what was mine, which was your love and respect. I allowed you to use me as a doormat. Can I blame you for walking over me?

“Instead I withdrew into a world of books and social clubs. I shut you out and left Max to fend for himself. Sure I kept a beautiful house, and prepared delicious meals, never complained, and always kept a smile on my face. But my heart, James, was breaking into minuscule pieces day by day and I didn't know what to do about it.”

He reached across the table and took her hand.

“I didn't have any real friends. At least no one that I could trust with my deepest feelings and fears. Growing up as an only child, you learn to just deal with things on your own. So I did.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Or at least I thought I did. I couldn't go to my parents and let them know the trouble our marriage was in.” She looked briefly away. “Not after…Maxwell.” James's stomach knotted, seeing her hurt. “I needed you to love me so much that I was willing to put up with anything, in the hope that one day you would—that you'd forget about—Suki and love me the way—” her voice broke “—you once did.” Hot tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

“Oh, God, Claudia.” He came around the table and gathered her in his arms. His own tears mixing with hers. “Please, don't…”

Vehemently she shook her head. “No, James. It's been too long. I need to say this. You need to hear this. That morning, when I was out in the garden all I could think about was how long you'd been away in Japan—nearly eighteen months.” She smiled wistfully and wiped her tears away. “I had the last letter you wrote to me in my apron pocket, telling me
how much you missed me and you'd be home in six months. I was so busy thinking of all the things we could do together when you returned, I almost didn't hear the front doorbell.”

James moved back to his seat as Claudia stood, her eyes transfixed on a place he could never be.

“I remember it was so hot. I was sweating like crazy and I'd just wiped my forehead with a muddy glove and had dirt streaked across my head.” She smiled at the memory. “I tossed my gloves on the grass and dashed through the house, thinking it was probably the mailman. I pulled the door open…”

A young, strikingly beautiful Japanese girl stood on the doorstep. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, Claudia guessed. But all she could think about at the moment was her extraordinary ink-black hair that looked as if it must be two feet long. She had it braided and wrapped, layer upon layer atop her head. Claudia, self-consciously, touched her own hair that was damp and matted to her head. The girl had a flawless bronze complexion, devoid of any makeup and the most incredible eyes Claudia had ever seen. And she couldn't for the life of her imagine why this girl-woman was on her doorstep and carrying what looked to be a baby no less.

The girl gave a short bow and Claudia had the overwhelming desire to bow back. “Ah, hello, good afternoon. I am Sukihara. I beg your pardon for trouble, but I come from long way to bring baby to you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You are wife of James Knight?”

Claudia's heart began to race with dread. Her answer got caught in her throat. She nodded.

Suki extended her bundle toward Claudia. “This James's son.”

Claudia shook her head. She knew it was hot, because sweat was pouring from every crevice of her body. That had to
be the reason why she suddenly felt lightheaded. This woman, whoever she was, was lying. She was crazy. “Get away from me with your lies!” She started to shut the door, but the girl pushed the baby forward.

“No, please, you must listen. I cannot take care of this baby. I not live the life of a mother. You must take him. He will make a wonderful son. He is your husband's blood.” Suki pushed the light blanket away from the baby's face and Claudia stared down in stunned disbelief at James's features.

With his eyes closed, he could be a miniature of her husband, with the wide, sweeping brows, high cheekbones, and cleft chin. He had his mother's beautiful complexion and silken hair.

Surely this was some bizarre mistake. Some miserable joke someone was playing on her. Claudia shut her eyes and ran a hand across her face. She opened her eyes. They were still there—this woman and the baby. It wasn't a joke, or an apparition. She took several deep breaths, looked down at the baby who'd begun to fret from the incredible heat. Finally reason took hold.

Claudia stepped aside. “Please—come inside.”

“W…where did you meet my husband?” Claudia asked as she poured them both tall glasses of iced tea.

Suki smiled in remembrance. “I meet James almost two years ago. He and friend Larry came to where I work.”

“Work? You don't look old enough to work.”

Suki giggled behind her hand. “I have been working since I was fifteen.”

“How…how old are you now?”

“Nineteen,” she answered proudly.

“Where is it that you work?”

“I work for Ichitaro. She pay for this trip to America to bring baby. She is the proprietress of the teahouse…”

“Teahouse?”

“Yes,” Suki smiled. “It is where the gentlemen come to be entertained. I am a geisha in training,” she added with pride. “Ichitaro say I will make wonderful geisha and does not want to lose me. One day I will own my own teahouse and be very successful like Ichitaro.”

A whorehouse. Dear Lord she's a prostitute.
“My…husband met you at this…this teahouse?”

“Yes.”

Claudia straightened her spine and jutted her chin. “Then how do you know this baby belongs to my husband?” she demanded.

Suki lowered her brilliant black eyes, focusing on the tiny baby suckling at her breast. “James…first man for me.” She looked up and met Claudia's painstricken eyes. “That's how I know.” She nodded her head sadly. “That's how I know…”

Claudia turned away from the window, from the garden that bloomed with brilliant life and faced her husband. “I never thought I'd ever get over the betrayal, the anger, the humiliation I felt. How could I go on? How could I face my family, my friends? I wanted to die. But I couldn't because she'd left that baby for me to take care of. It was so ironic,” she added sadly, “that we could never have children and here I was raising some other woman's son. A child that you gave her but were never able to give me.” Her voice grew in strength. “But I did go on. Because I wasn't going to let this come between us. I convinced myself that in a moment of weakness and loneliness, you and she…” She swallowed back the thought, recrossed the room and sat back down.

“Claudia, I never wanted to hurt you. When I met Suki, I was young and vulnerable. She was exotic, different. I thought I was in love. But it was separate from what we had. That was another life. You were my life.”

“But you kept going back to her.”

He looked at her with wide-eyed surprise.

“You think I didn't know? I knew.” She looked down at her hands. “She wrote to me for the first year after she left Max. Oh yes, I have letters from Suki, too.” She paused for effect. “She would tell me whenever you came to visit, how long you'd stay and how well you looked. She always asked about Max and was he growing to be as handsome as his father. But she always reassured me that these were two different lives that you led—and that I shouldn't worry. Life with her was a fantasy, because that was what she did, make men's fantasies come true. I was your real life, the one you would come back to.”

James took her hands. “I did come back, Claudia. I know I made a shambles of your life. Because of me we had to pack up and move just to give some sort of legitimacy to Maxwell's life before he got old enough to ask questions or listen to the gossip from the neighbors.” He shook his head in remorse. “And then the lies began. But what else could I do? How could I tell my son I was already married when he was born?”

Claudia took a deep breath. “There's nothing to do now but go forward, James. We've weathered many storms together. I too closed myself off from being the mother Maxwell needed. I have making up to do as well.” She reached for her husband's hand. Her eyes pleaded with him. “This time, we'll do it together.”

James pulled his wife to him, burying his face in her pillow-soft hair. “Oh, Claudia, can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me for all of the pain I've caused you?”

“I forgave a long time ago, sweetheart. It's time that you forgave yourself.”