Sarasota Sin (20 page)

         The first thing that popped into Payton’s mind was a shunned lover, the next a livid and very jealous husband swinging a baseball bat. “Tell me,” she said while making her way to Noah’s room. “What happened?”

       “That freaking gift basket is what happened!”

       Noah was ashen, sprawled out in the middle of his queen-sized bed.  He looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open.  “Why?” She lowered her voice. “He’s not allergic to any foods.”

        “He bit into a truffle loaded with benzonatate capsules.”
       Payton touched his cheek and Noah leaned into her hand. “What the hell is that?”

       “It’s a prescription cough medicine doctors prescribe in lieu of narcotics, but it has to be swallowed whole.  If the capsules or pearls are broken in the mouth or throat, they usually swell the throat fatally.  Noah freaking chewed them,” she whispered fiercely.  “It’s a miracle he’s alive.” Tears rolled down her face and Payton was right there with her, hugging her. “I never prayed so hard, Pay. Never in my life do I want to feel that fear again.”

         Payton trembled. “H-he was poisoned.”

       “Yeah.” Libby leaned back, curling her hair behind her ears and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “He was poisoned, but it could have been any of us.”

        “Obviously you called the police,” Payton prodded, pulling the information from an exhausted Libby.

         “Actually, the hospital called the police.  They left a few minutes before you arrived after confiscating the basket.  I also gave them your cellphone number so they can reach either of us for when they find out something.”

         “Someone was going to kill me.” It finally registered with Payton, due to her shock, that the candy was meant for her.

        “There wasn’t a card, remember?” Libby reminded. “That basket could have been for any of us, but most likely you or me.”

       “Make her get some sleep, Pay,” Noah insisted, his voice sleep-slurred. “She’s exhausted.”

       “Go to bed, Lib. I’m here now.” She turned Libby to face the hall, shooing her out.

       “I’ll go downstairs to grab my tablet, and then I’ll jump in the bed,” Libby said with evident relief.

       “No, I’ll get your tablet,” Payton argued.

        Libby walked on. “I need some fresh air and it’ll only take a second or two.”

       Payton crawled next to Noah, wrapping her arm across his big chest. “I’m so sorry.”

       “I’ll be much better after we find out who did this,” he said, running a shaking hand through her hair. “I can’t believe those tabloids…and you. That asshole saying you are going to be his wife is messing with my head.  If those chocolate hadn’t sent me to the emergency room, I think I would have gone to jail after doing what I envisioned to Dylan Easton.”

        “Noah, get some sleep.” The last thing Payton needed was for him to stay upset. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

        “Get my laptop off the nightstand.” He refused to be deterred. “I want to show you something.”

       With a frustrated sigh, she put it on his chest.  He entered his password and went into his documents. When he pulled up a picture, Payton thought it was one of her when she was sixteen or maybe seventeen. But on closer inspection, she realized it was another woman. “An obituary,” she murmured, her eyes traveling from the name to the face and then to the name again. “Helen Savon.”   Her mind started whirling.  ‘I miss you,’ Dylan had said. ‘I thought I’d dreamt you.’  She cupped her mouth, bile rising, recalling the other telltale comments Dylan and Avery had made.  “I was wondering why they wanted someone like me when they could have anyone.”

       Noah scowled. “I won’t have you talking about yourself that way. Payton, look at her…really look at her.  Baby, you have to realize you’re a walk in the past for Dylan Easton.”

       A sob left her. “I can’t believe this.”

       “That’s not the half of it,” he said. “Read this news article regarding the way she died.”

       Payton took the laptop from him, her eyes growing wider and wider with every bomb of information the article threw at her.  Silent tears streamed her face.  She remembered Dylan had said only one person could break someone’s heart, but anyone could mindfuck you.  We’ll he’d done both to her.  “Oh, God, I can’t read anymore.” She placed his computer on the nightstand and made to leave.

       Noah caught her wrist. “You slept with him.”

       It wasn’t any of his business, but she nodded anyway.

       “Come here,” he said, tugging her down. “Cry all you want. I’m right here, Pay.” She lowered her shaking body back down, and pressed her ear to his chest. “That’s it…I’m right here just like always, your lifetime guarantee.”

                                                            ***

“
Daddy
,” Libby spoke evenly into the phone, rubbing her temple with her fingertips.  Exhaustion and worry couldn’t take a backseat long enough for her to rest.  “I don’t understand how you lost everything.  When you mean everything, absolutely all your money?”  His proclamation rocked her, her father bankrupt. “But you have retirement for you and Mom, right?  No?” She dropped her hand on her desk and gripped a pencil. “Bonds and stocks are worthless. I understand.” He’d lost all his properties and was putting the house up for sale.  “How can I help?”  How could she help someone in sudden astounding debt other than to let him cry on her shoulder?  “Please, if there’s anything I can do, just tell me.  Yes, I love you, Daddy. And kiss Mom for me.  Of course, I’ll give Noah your best.” The pencil snapped in her hands. “Bye.”

“I see Bailey’s house of cards has fallen.”

Libby jumped a mile out of her chair.  She held up the sharp end of the pencil as a ridiculous weapon. “Who are you?”

       A man, tall and broad shouldered, stepped into her office, using a cane to maneuver around her furniture.  “Trey Easton, Elizabeth.”

       That voice, she knew it well. It was deeper, sure, but she’d spend hours and hours talking to him over the phone when she was a teenager. But the man wasn’t the teenage boy she’d known.  When he lowered his glasses, Trey locked eyes with her and she dropped back into her seat. “You?” She would never forget the intensity of his green eyes, the way he’d looked at her when her sixteen-year-old self had given him her virginity.  “You’re not Trey…Easton. Y-you are Travis Henderson.”

       “Not since I was sixteen,” he said blandly. His hand came up and touched her face, lightly, as though he were seeing her through his hands. “I was adopted by Gilda Easton six months after you and I parted ways. She’s an amazing mother, far better than my own grandmother.”

       She remembered Travis living with his grandmother, because his mother had wanted nothing to do with him.  Then the pieces starting clicking so quickly, her brain went numb.  “My father hated you.”

       “Oh, if you think he hated me then,” Trey lowered his hand and gripped his cane, “it’s nothing comparable to the way he feels now.”

       “The firehouse was nothing to you,” she said in horrified awe. “It was to distract me while you ruined my father.  Well fucking played,” she hissed through sudden tears.

       “Well,” he said, tapping his cane on the floor, “the game’s not over.  Do you want to save him from ruin, Elizabeth?”  He leaned forward, his eyes a remarkable green tourmaline.  And although she hated him, he was still so very, very handsome. “Do you also want to keep this pitiful firehouse?”

       She stood up again, stiffening her spine. “What do you want?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Sarasota Revenge Book 2 in the Level 69 trilogy available March 7, 2014.