A Guilty Affair (21 page)

Jonas was silent for so long she wondered if he intended to ignore her question. Finally he said quietly, “I know you're looking for the silver lining in all this, a reason to forgive Trevor for the way he betrayed your love and your trust. But speaking from experience, I can tell you that knowing whether or not he regretted the choices he made won't change the outcome. The challenge for you is to try and find a way to come to terms with what he did, and then, somehow, to pick up the pieces of your life and move on from there. Sometimes, Miss Kane, there are no silver linings.”

Riley nodded, her throat clogged with emotion. Reaching over, Noah took her hand and gently squeezed. Their eyes met and held in a moment of shared pain and sorrow. It was more than they'd ever shared in the aftermath of Trevor's death.

Without releasing her hand, Noah turned back to Jonas, who had been watching them with gentle, discerning eyes. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to us, Mr. Ludwig,” he said quietly. “As difficult as it's been to hear these things about Trevor, it was important for us to finally learn the truth about what happened.”

Jonas inclined his head. “I hope, in time, you'll both find closure.” He looked at their joined hands and smiled softly. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there's a silver lining after all.”

Noah and Riley exchanged meaningful glances.

As they prepared to leave the antiques shop a few minutes later, Noah said to Jonas, “Just out of curiosity, how is it that so many of your family members managed to be deported back to Germany? From what I understand, no charges were ever brought against anyone for the money-laundering operation.”

“That's true,” Jonas calmly acknowledged. “You know, when you consider the recent political debates surrounding illegal immigration in this country, it's not surprising to discover just how many people have educated themselves on deportation laws. What you may find surprising, and perhaps a little alarming, is how simple it is to get someone deported. In some rare cases, all it takes is one discreet phone call to a high-ranking friend in INS to get the ball rolling.” His expression was all innocence. “Not that I'd know anything about that, of course.”

Noah and Riley stared at him, then looked at each other and laughed.

A warm, fine mist began to fall from the sky as they walked back to the church parking lot in silence. Even after they'd climbed inside the truck, they sat without moving or speaking for several minutes, the only sound between them the soft patter of rain against the windshield.

It was Noah who finally broke the silence. “I'm sorry,” he said thickly.

Riley's gaze flew to his face. “Why are you sorry?”

“For not believing you when you first came to me about your suspicions. For ridiculing your instincts.”

“You don't have to apologize for anything, Noah,” she said gently. “Who could blame you for your reaction? It was a lot to digest at once. I'd had three years to grapple with my fears and suspicions, and what I brought to you wasn't exactly a slam-dunk case. Talk of dreams, gut feelings, faceless men with German accents. Anyone in your shoes would've had a hard time believing my story.
I
had a hard time believing it.”

Noah shook his head. “But there were signs all along, things I purposely chose to ignore. Not glaringly obvious things, like a new Porsche on a cop's salary or hidden wads of cash in his kitchen drawer. What I'm talking about was the way he'd disappear for days at a time, and come back with stories about visiting you in Houston, which he later contradicted in other conversations. Or the way he behaved whenever his mother came around—antsy and irritable, as if he was afraid she'd slip up and say something she wasn't supposed to. At the most, I wondered if he was cheating on you.”

“In a way he was,” Riley murmured, staring through the windshield. “Cheating on both of us by lying and deceiving us about who he'd become. He was leading a double life that we never knew about. When I think about the hypocrisy of him getting on his soapbox and criticizing corrupt cops…” She shook her head angrily. “If he were here right now, I'd kill him.”

“You'd have to get in line behind me,” Noah growled.

Riley's lips twisted bitterly. “I honestly don't know what hurts me more. The fact that Trevor kept such a terrible secret from me, or the fact that he got involved with criminals. Why didn't he confide in me? We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. Is that how he planned to start off our marriage? With lies?”

She thought about her dreams, in which Trevor slammed the door in her face to prevent her from overhearing a conversation between him and Conrad Weiss. She now realized that Trevor closing the door on her was metaphorical for the way he'd shut her out of his life by keeping secrets from her. Her subconscious had made the connection, even if her heart hadn't been ready.

Gloomily she said, “I always knew that deep down inside, he was just a scared little boy trying to find his place in the world, trying to figure out where he belonged. I wish he'd realized his place was among those who loved and accepted him for who he was, even if the same blood didn't run through our veins.”

“Yeah,” Noah said quietly, “me, too.” He turned his head, glancing out the window for a moment, giving her a view of his stony profile. “I'm angry with him, damned angry. He was like a brother to me, and the fact that he didn't trust me enough to confide what he was going through is tearing me apart. I'm mad as hell, Riley, and I honestly don't know how long it's going to take me to get over that.”

Her heart clutched in her chest. Reaching across the console, she placed her hand over Noah's tightly clenched fist. After a few moments, the muscles began to relax, enough for her to lace her fingers through his.

“This won't be like before,” she told him, her voice breaking with emotion. “We're going to get through this, Noah. And this time, we're going to get through it together.”

When he turned his head to look at her, the moisture glistening in his dark eyes matched the tears blurring her own. He raised her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the center of her palm, pouring heat through her veins.

“Do you promise?” he asked huskily.

“I do,” Riley whispered.

“Let's go home,” Noah said softly.

Riley nodded, settling comfortably into the seat for the ninety-minute drive back to San Antonio.

The thought of returning home had never sounded better.

“E
verything
looks wonderful, Riley.”

Riley turned to smile as her mother appeared at her side and draped an arm around her shoulders. Barbara Kane had dark, almond-shaped eyes and smooth mahogany skin that defied her fifty-seven years. Thick shoulder-length braids marched back neatly from her face and accentuated her exotic features. She was effortlessly chic in a white sheath dress that flared out gracefully from gently rounded hips she wryly referred to as the “love handles I ain't lovin'.”

Smiling now, Barbara stroked a hand down the cropped, silky layers of Riley's hair. “You really outdid yourself this time, baby.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Riley said. “But I can't take all the credit. The caterers did a fabulous job with everything, from the menu to the amazing decorations. Look at this place. I feel like I'm back in Washington, D.C. in the middle of January.”

“It is rather amazing, isn't it?” Barbara agreed.

Riley nodded as she and her mother surveyed the festive scene before them. The oversized backyard had been transformed into a breathtaking winter wonderland to commemorate the fact that Florinda Kane had been born during a rare snowstorm in San Antonio—the largest snowstorm in the city's recorded history. Fake snow powdered the large oak trees and was sprinkled liberally across the lawn. Linen-covered tables arranged under a tent were adorned with silver candles and vases filled with fresh-cut white flowers. The band was playing a golden oldie that had lured many partygoers to the dance floor, which had been decorated to look like an ice rink.

Invitations had been sent to one-hundred-fifty people, and if the number of entries in the guest registry was accurate, all had shown up to celebrate the seventy-fifth birthday of one very remarkable woman.

“Your father and I felt so guilty about going to Hawaii and leaving all the party planning to you,” Barbara confessed.

“Don't feel guilty,” Riley said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I told you guys to go, remember? Between your patients at the practice and Dad's classes, June was the only month you could coordinate your busy schedules. Believe me, I know you both needed to get away for a while and recharge your batteries. Besides, I had a lot of fun organizing the party. It gave me something to do.”

Her mother sent her a knowing smile. “From what your grandmother tells me, you found plenty to do.”

Riley couldn't stop the smile that curved her mouth. “Maybe.”

“Uh-huh, that's what I thought.” Barbara chuckled. “Don't think I'm letting you off the hook that easy, young lady. I know we haven't spoken often over the past few weeks—”

“Which is as it should be. You were supposed to be enjoying your vacation, not worrying about what was happening at home.”

“Don't change the subject. Not once during any of our phone conversations did you mention that you and—”

“Great party, Miss Riley!” said a passing guest, an elderly man from the community center where Florinda volunteered.

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor!” Riley called back, watching as he made his way to the dance floor to cut in on Crandall Thorne, who'd snagged Florinda the moment the band struck up again after a short break. Florinda, understated elegance in a white pant-suit, laughed as Crandall scowled at Mr. Taylor and grudgingly relinquished her. He then proceeded to cut in on Caleb and Daniela Thorne, who'd just returned from their honeymoon two days ago. As Daniela stepped into her father-in-law's arms, she sent her husband a conciliatory grin. But Caleb wasn't without a partner for very long. He was quickly snatched up by Riley's great-aunt, who saved him from the clutches of one of the matchmaking mamas who'd been scouring the crowd for young, handsome prospects for their granddaughters. Although they knew Caleb Thorne was off the market, that didn't stop them from seeking him out in the hopes that he'd drop the names of a few close, unattached friends. They'd already flocked to Noah—which was probably the reason he'd conveniently disappeared from the party.

“The last time I saw him,” her mother said with a knowing little smile, “he was talking to your father.”

“Oh.” Heat crawled up Riley's neck. “Was it that obvious I was looking for him just now?”

Barbara's smile widened. “Sweetheart, you haven't stopped looking for Noah since he arrived.”

It was probably true. In the two weeks since they'd learned the truth about the circumstances surrounding Trevor's death, she and Noah hadn't spent as much time together as Riley would have expected. Although they'd agreed to keep Trevor's secret to themselves and help each other through the painful aftermath, an awkward tension had worked its way between them. Confronted with the horrible revelation that Trevor wasn't the man they'd both loved and trusted, they'd suddenly found themselves at odds with each other, unsure how to proceed in their new-found relationship. After all, if they were so wrong about Trevor, could they also be wrong about their feelings for each other?

As if by mutual consensus, Noah had retreated into his work, and Riley quietly left her job at the agency and threw herself into last-minute preparations for the party.

And then, just yesterday morning, she'd received an unexpected phone call from her editor at the
Washington Post
. He'd indicated, without actually coming right out and saying it, that if she wanted to keep her position at the paper, she should seriously consider cutting her sabbatical short and returning to D.C.

The conversation had haunted her for the rest of the day.

She'd come home to San Antonio to uncover the truth about Trevor's death and finally exorcise the demons that had plagued her for the past three years. Now that she'd gotten the answers she wanted, she could, in all reality, go back to D.C. and the new life she'd started. She had a great apartment in Foggy Bottom and a great job at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the world. Her editor liked her well enough and believed she could have a solid future with the
Post
. Who in their right mind sacrificed an opportunity like that?

When Riley left D.C. and embarked on her truth-seeking mission, she'd had every intention of going back at the end of two months, no matter what the outcome of her efforts to investigate Trevor's death.

But she hadn't anticipated what would happen between her and Noah.

She hadn't anticipated falling in love with him.

“For what it's worth,” her mother said, breaking into Riley's reverie, “your father and I think Noah is a wonderful young man. I still remember how good he was with Florinda at your engagement party four years ago, so patient and easygoing as she took him around, introducing him to different young ladies. He really made an impression on all of us that day.”

“I remember,” Riley murmured with a soft, reminiscent smile.

“Of course you do.” Barbara gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then sighed. “I'm going to go mingle with Pamela and Lionel Hubbard. I haven't seen them since their wedding. Don't spend the entire night running around playing hostess,” she warned her daughter as she started away. “You've done more than enough tonight and over the past several weeks. Let the caterers do what you hired them for.”

Riley grinned. “Yes, ma'am,” she said with a mock salute. “Who am I to argue with the woman who's footing the bill for this shindig?”

As she watched Barbara wend her way through the crowd toward the tent, plucking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray, Riley decided her mother was right. She deserved a break. The food and music were great, drinks were flowing freely, and the guests seemed to be having the time of their lives.

She glanced at her watch. Everything was right on schedule. In less than one hour, wedges of rum cake iced with butter cream would be served, and then Riley would unveil the special birthday presentation she'd prepared with the help of Janie and Lety. She couldn't wait to see her grandmother's face when she saw what they'd done with all her old memorabilia. She hoped Florinda would light up like the fireworks that were also on tap for the evening.

Deciding to steal a few minutes to herself, Riley headed across the sprawling yard and started up a winding footpath that led away from the festivities. Night had fallen, and the moon shone bright and full in the starlit sky.

“Not so fast, young lady. Wait up for me.”

Riley turned and smiled as Florinda joined her on the path and linked a companionable arm through hers. “What do you think you're doing?” Riley teased. “You're not supposed to leave the party. You're the guest of honor.”

Florinda chuckled. “It's my party,” she quipped good-naturedly. “I can leave if I want to. Besides, I'm not leaving. I'm taking a short break to spend time with my granddaughter, who refuses to let down her hair and enjoy the fruit of her labor.”

Riley laughed, slowing down a little to accommodate her grandmother's leisurely stride. “I am enjoying myself. I've danced a couple of times, had a glass of champagne, and conversed with many of the guests, all of whom adore you and have nothing but glowing things to say about you.”

“Oh, hush,” Florinda said, but Riley could tell she was pleased.

They soon reached a gazebo that was painted white and draped with a twinkling canopy of fairy lights. As they stepped inside and sat down on the wraparound bench, Florinda remarked, “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” Riley, like her mother, wore a white sheath dress that featured a fitted bodice, scooped neckline, and a full skirt that billowed out Marilyn Monroe style. She'd talked herself into a pair of white strappy high-heeled sandals that were already making her long for the flip-flops on standby near her bedroom door.

She slipped out of the heels and reached down to massage one aching foot.

“So how are you doing tonight, baby?” Florinda asked. “You've seemed very distracted since yesterday—and not just because of the party. What's on your mind?”

Riley hesitated, then answered truthfully, “My editor at the
Post
called yesterday. He wanted to know when I was planning to return.”

Florinda frowned. “I thought he approved your leave time.”

“He did.” Riley smiled ruefully. “I don't think he believed I would actually take the whole two months off. He knows what a workaholic I am.”

“Were,” Florinda corrected. “You're not the same person who left D.C. several weeks ago.”

“No,” Riley agreed softly. “I'm not.”

Apart from Riley and Noah, Florinda was the only one who knew about Trevor's involvement with his family's money laundering operation. She'd reacted to the news with sorrow and disappointment, but not with shock, as Riley had expected. It was as if she'd already prepared herself for the worst. In a way, so had Riley.

Florinda asked, “So what did you tell him? Your editor?”

Riley shrugged. “I told him I was busy with last-minute preparations for your party and would call him back on Monday.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I don't know. I haven't decided yet.” She hesitated, glancing sideways at her grandmother. “Now that I've learned the truth about Trevor's murder, I can say that I've accomplished what I set out to accomplish.”

“You could.” Florinda gave her a long, measuring look. “I think this journey home was less about Trevor, and more about you finding yourself.”

Riley stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when I told you the confusion you'd been feeling about everything in your life would someday make sense?” At Riley's nod, Florinda explained, “I think part of the confusion you'd been experiencing had to do with Noah and your unresolved feelings about him. It's always bothered you that he kept you at arm's length for so many years. Haven't you ever wondered why it troubled you so much?”

Suddenly, Riley's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She could only stare mutely at her grandmother and wait for her to continue.

“I think, as important as it was to you to find out the truth about Trevor's death, it was even more important for you to learn the truth about yourself and Noah.” Florinda paused, smiling gently. “He was the first person you sought out the day you arrived back in town.”

“That's because he was the only person who could help me.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not.”

“Grandma—”

“I think it's possible that when you ran away from here three years ago, you weren't just outrunning memories of Trevor. You were trying to escape your feelings for his best friend.”

“But that's ridiculous, Grandma,” Riley protested. “I never even looked at Noah that way.”

“That's because you didn't allow yourself to. Your conscience wouldn't let you entertain thoughts of him or the possibility that you may have chosen the wrong man.”

Janie's question whispered through Riley's mind. Do you think you would have made the same choice?