A Just Deception (20 page)

The distractions with this assignment were plentiful, and there always seemed to be a tough choice to make. Courtney wanted to know something Isabelle had spent a lifetime hiding. She could make something up and risk getting caught in the lie, thereby losing any chance of this girl trusting her. Or she could admit it. Which she’d only done a handful of times, under specific conditions.

Courtney waited, her features frozen in a perpetual I-don’t-give-a-damn mask. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Do it
. She had to gain Courtney’s trust and if being truthful did that, it would be worth the risk. A burst of air exploded within her, willing her forward. “He sexually abused me when I was a kid.”

“Oh, ouch,” Courtney said. “Rat bastard.”

Isabelle choked a laugh. Nothing in Sampson’s file indicated sexual abuse, but Courtney understood betrayal. Her simple reaction—maybe the lack of judgment or the honesty in which it was delivered—eased a smile from Isabelle. Twice now, the first time with Peter, she’d admitted her abuse to a near stranger, and shame didn’t sit on her like a rotted carcass.

Odd, she thought, the most unlikely people seemed to identify with her.

“Thank you, Courtney.”

Courtney tilted her mouth into a smirk. “For what? I didn’t kill him.”

Isabelle slipped out the front door of the compound with her prepaid cell phone in hand. The sticky night air surrounded her and moisture beaded along her spine as she stepped away from the porch.

She needed to get away from the house and its lunatic inhabitants for a few minutes. The whole thing was just damned weird. Seth couldn’t stop staring at the miracle boobs, which, of course, was the point, but Isabelle still wanted to pop him. Throw in Mary Beth giving her the constant hairy eyeball, and Isabelle had a brain-frying headache. The three ibuprofens she’d slammed didn’t forestall the pounding behind her eyes, and she pressed her thumb and middle finger into them trying to gouge the pain away. No luck.

What was Mary Beth’s problem anyway? Just because Seth found another woman attractive? Mary Beth could have him. The bigger, nagging issue though, was whether Mary Beth’s dislike had something to do with her very pregnant fifteen-year-old daughter. Isabelle had spied Rebecca and Seth talking quietly on several occasions and it led her to wonder if Seth had fathered Rebecca’s unborn child.

Sick, sick, sick.
Maybe Kendrick and Seth were both sexual terrorists. If so, he’d better back the hell up because she’d do whatever it took to put him in jail.

Even if it meant dealing with Mary Beth.

Isabelle stopped in the middle of the lawn and glanced at her phone—anyone inside the house would think she was searching for a good signal—and kept walking as she dialed Peter’s number.

“I need to see you,” she said when he answered. Where this sudden neediness came from she had no idea, but the richness of his voice only intensified it.

Normally, when the angst overtook her, she’d kick the hell out of her heavy bag. She would wind up paralyzed with fatigue, but the negative energy would be long gone.

No heavy bag here. No salty ocean air. Just humidity and the stench of something vile.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

“I think Nicole was staying here. Courtney told me.” Isabelle stopped, turned toward the house in case anyone came out. Even if they did, from this distance they wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Just like that? She offered it up?”

“Courtney doesn’t offer anything up. She measures every syllable. When we were having ice cream she mentioned she used to go there with her friend. I asked leading questions. I am a defense lawyer you know.”

That defense lawyer line wasn’t necessary. The man was asking a question and she jumped on him like a commuter chasing a train. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Forget it. Why the hell would Nicole be living there? I thought she was a volunteer.”

“That’s what Sampson indicated.”

“He may have intentionally kept it from you,” Peter said. “Or maybe he didn’t know. I checked her mother out and she’s loaded. Jessup kind of loaded.”

“I don’t know about any of that. All Courtney said was that her
friend
had moved out.” She hesitated. Jammed her fingers into her eyes again as the pain roared back. “I told her about Kendrick abusing me.”

“You
did
?”

“I had to. I need her to trust me. I need someone in this miserable house to trust me.”

“That had to be hard for you.”

Nearly gave me a heart attack.
“It’ll be worth it. Plus, I think I like Courtney.”

The soft grass tickled Isabelle’s flip-flop-clad toes, and her legs wilted until she dropped spread eagle onto the grass.

Whacko-whacko-whacko
. That’s what the resident’s would think when they saw her lying on the grass with only the porch light throwing shadows across the darkened lawn.

“Don’t get attached, Izzy. This is a temporary gig.”

She nodded her understanding even if he couldn’t see it. The queen of self-protection found herself sharing ugly details of her life with a girl she’d known only a few days. But still, she couldn’t deny the kindred spirit they seemed to share. “I’ll be careful.”

“You’re doing great, babe. Hang in there.”

When her chest seized, she smacked at it and forced a breath because—holy cow—she loved the sound of Peter praising her. Since when did she need a man for that? How did she let
this
man come to mean so much to her?

Tears moistened her eyes.
No. No crying. It’s just the stress. No. Crying
!

But Kendrick’s house, the sealed windows, double key locks, Seth, Mary Beth, a girl missing. It was all too much for someone lacking any form of emotional stability.

“Izzy? Are you all right?”

“No. I’ve never been all right though, so I don’t know what this is. I hate it.”

Weakness
.

After Kendrick, she’d never allowed herself to be vulnerable. She had strengthened the foundation, shored up the walls and, for years, she’d been fine. Now Peter Jessup and Courtney Masterson understood her, and who were these people? She barely knew them and yet she shared the horror of her childhood with them. Left herself exposed to their derision. Their judgment. What had she been thinking?

“Izzy, can you get away from there for a while? I’ll meet you.”

Yes.
She didn’t have her heavy bag, but Peter could help. He’d open his arms to her and she’d snuggle into him, breathe in his strength, and it would quiet the havoc in her mind.

Maybe she’d fuck him. Get rid of this swirling panic and take control again. She’d spent half her life interchanging sex with power. If she hadn’t let the weakness take over, she would have realized she could fix this.

“I need you inside me,” she said.

“Helloooooo, Creepy Izzy.”
You pain in my ass
. “When did she show up?”

Peter stood on the balcony of the motel staring at the illuminated parking lot and the adjacent pool with its slimy green water. Billy had just flipped for another lap. Poor bastard must be desperate for something to do to swim in that muck. Although, they’d taken dips in a lot worse.

With Billy driving him batshit and Izzy going Section 8, he wondered who in this twisted threesome would
not
have to be committed.

Shagging Izzy would never be difficult, particularly after they’d experienced it last night—a few times—but this had nothing to do with sex. This was her trying to manipulate a situation she couldn’t get comfortable with.

He gripped the phone tighter. “You’re dealing with a lot. If Creepy Izzy helps, use her, but we’re not bringing sex into it. Sex between us will never be about control.”

A sniffle came from the other end of the phone line. “Are you crying?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said, and he burst out laughing.

Only Izzy.

“Honey, it’s a yes or no thing. You’re either crying or you’re not.”

She laughed then too, but it was a weird sort of snot-filled laugh.

“Peter, I’m freaking out. I don’t know if I can do this. It’s bringing up too much baggage. Being here, talking about Kendrick. It makes me feel powerless. Like I’m that vulnerable girl again. I despise that.”

Leaning over the rail, he said, “Did you ever hear Vic say ‘pain is weakness leaving the body’?”

“No.”

“That’s what you’re experiencing. Your compartments are imploding and everything is running together. It’s similar to what you told me that night at the cottage. You have to let yourself feel it before you can get past it.”

“But I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to miss having you with me. Telling Courtney about the abuse intensified it.”

She missed him. Damn, if that didn’t make him smile. It sucked that she considered it a bad thing, but he’d take it. “I’ll be there the day after tomorrow. Tell Seth the Jessup Foundation got his paperwork, but that my mother doesn’t do the visits. She’s sending me instead. We’ll do this together.”

“Okay. That sounds good.”

“For now, you had a major breakthrough with Courtney telling you about Nicole.”

“I
think
she meant Nicole. She never said a name.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s a start. I’ll call Sampson and let him know. You’re going to bring this girl home Izzy. Remember that.”

A car drove by, its rotted muffler drawing his attention.

“Peter?”

“Yep?”

“I think I love you.”

A soaring, screaming ball of relief settled him. For weeks now he’d been captivated by her. Add being frustrated beyond belief and worry over her current situation and it equaled a dangerous combination.

One that took him ten years to find.

“I think I love you too. It’s good.”
But I want you out of that place.

Izzy sighed. “I know.”

“It scares the hell out of you. I can deal with that. I’m not going anywhere. You need to not think so much about it though. You start to freak out when you think too much and
hello,
Creepy Izzy.”

“You’re right. I trust you. I hope you know that.”

That alone couldn’t be easy for someone like her. Someone who had been betrayed in the most evil way by someone she should have been safe with. “We’re good, babe.”

For a few seconds the only sound was Billy flipping for another lap. Christ, he’d be out there all night.

“By the way,” Peter said, “your phone, the one you left here, rang a few times. Do you want me to check it?”

“Yes. It might be something important. Or my uncle is threatening to fire me again.”

“Screw your uncle,” Peter said, wanting to rip the son of a bitch’s heart out. He walked into the motel room, retrieved the phone from the top drawer of the dresser and, after retrieving the missed calls, read the numbers to her.

“Yep,” she said. “It’s my office. And my father.”

“Call them from a pay phone tomorrow,” Peter said. “Don’t use the cell I gave you.”

If Seth checked her phone he’d have her father’s phone number. The office he didn’t so much care about because Seth knew where she worked, but having Izzy’s personal contacts out there would not be copacetic.

“Speaking of tomorrow,” she said. “Seth has a business lunch about twenty miles from here. Cannonsville, I think he said. He invited me to ride along so I could shop while he’s at lunch. Apparently they have some touristy stores there. The car ride would be an opportunity to talk to him.”

Peter fisted his hand and clamped his eyes shut. As much as he wanted to tell her to stay away from the guy, he knew this was why she was there. “Just stay alert.”

“I will.”

“Who’s the lunch with?”

“I don’t know.”

Hmmm.
Peter sat at the desk, opened his laptop. “Cannonsville?”

“Yes.”

He went to MapQuest and got a visual. “I want to know who he’s lunching with. What time are you going?”

“We’re leaving at eleven-thirty.”

Peter sat back, drummed his fingers on the scarred desk. This could work. “We’ll drive into Cannonsville tomorrow. Call me after Seth goes into the restaurant. I’ll send Billy in there for some takeout so he can see who Seth is with.”

Izzy’s moan floated over the phone line. “I don’t know. What if Seth sees you and then you show up here the next day?”

“Seth isn’t going to see me. I’m going to wait out of sight and Billy will go into the restaurant. Once he gets a visual, we wait for the person to leave, and we follow them. I want to know what kind of
business
this guy is doing.”

The next morning, after a fitful sleep, Isabelle waited on the bottom step of the front porch for Seth to pull his car around.

The lunch was an hour away. That meant two hours of being alone with Seth. Not something she relished after he’d dragged his hand over her ass at breakfast that morning.

The man was ratcheting up his mating signals. This flirting tactic of hers had to be dealt with carefully. She had to give him just the right amount of encouragement, but not so much that he would think she intended to have sex with him any time soon.

A fine line.

Seth pulled his sparkling sedan around front and she got in, grateful she’d purposely worn knee-length shorts that didn’t ride up as she sat. The pink crew neck summer sweater she paired with the shorts gave her an added defense against Seth’s wandering eyes.

He gave her a once-over and nodded. “Nice sweater.”

She nearly laughed at his disappointment at not seeing any cleavage, but checked herself. For all she knew, he’d pull off on some deserted road and try to force himself on her. At which time, she’d kick his pathetic ass.

“Thank you for letting me tag along.”

Seth smiled and lifted his foot off the brake. Mary Beth appeared on the front porch and he waved to her. She waved back, but her blasting gaze was on Isabelle.

Yikes
.

“Mary Beth doesn’t like me,” she said.

“She doesn’t like most people. She’s had a tough life. We’re—” Seth stopped, shook his head. “I can’t get used to Kendrick not being part of this anymore. It’s odd. I know you had your differences with him, but he was my partner and friend. He did a lot of good around here.”

Isabelle found that hard to believe. “I’m sure.” She stared out the window at the sun dappled pasture across the street while her stomach did a quick pitch and roll.

Seth turned onto the road and hit the gas.

“Thank you for setting up the meeting with Peter Jessup. I know your influence got their attention. The funding from outside sources is vital to what we do.”

“That’s how you support this place? Outside funding.”

He nodded. “Yes. Corporate sponsorships, grants, that sort of thing. In fact, I’d like to take you up on your offer of legal help. Would you read a few sponsorship agreements? I’ve been holding off sending them to our attorney because he’s expensive and I’ve been watching our money.”

Perhaps this would get her into his office to snoop in his files. “Of course. I can do it today if you’d like.”

Seth smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “I have the agreements on the computer in my office.”

The computer. Even better.

“You know,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the bucket drives you mentioned. Do they provide enough money to help an operation of this size?”

“The bucket drives are a way for the residents to take some responsibility. They are expected to find work—we help with that—so they can move out on their own, but we expect them to help with fundraising. This grant from the Jessup Foundation would be exceptional. We could do a lot of good with that money.”

A sliver of guilt sliced her. If this guy were as honest as he played, she’d feel like a first class dope for setting up this ruse about Peter’s visit.

“Seth, I’m just the messenger when it comes to the Jessups. I sent Peter the application and that’s all. I don’t think I know enough about your organization to vouch for you. I was happy to get the process moving because you’ve been kind to me, but we’re talking about a lot of money. Peter will do his own research. And he
will
be thorough.”

Seth glanced at her, his drab hazel eyes intent. “We have nothing to hide.”

“You have nothing to worry about then.”

“Does Peter know about your history with Kendrick?”

The question landed with a thud. What the hell business was it of his? “Excuse me?”

“I’m not prying—”

“You don’t think?”

Seth rolled his eyes and she nearly climbed over and smacked him.

“I think I have a right to know if Peter Jessup has formed opinions regarding my organization. If you’ve told him about your relationship with Kendrick, he might not look upon us so favorably.”

Her
relationship
?

“Peter is fair. Whatever his thoughts about Kendrick are, he won’t hold them against you.”

“What exactly is your relationship with Peter Jessup?”

Where the heck was this going? “Why do you ask?”

He made a left turn onto another rural road, pulled over and parked. Isabelle swung her head left and right, surveying the surrounding area. No houses, no other cars.

This is it
.

She wrapped one hand around the door handle, ready to yank it and run. Spotting her grip on the handle, Seth punched a button on his door and the thump of the lock engaging vibrated against her hand. Locked in.

With her hand still on the door, she turned to him. “Why are we stopping?”

Seth scooted an inch closer and she backed away while escape scenarios materialized and she readied her free hand for a palm strike. “What are you doing?”

His gaze dropped to her chest. “I think you’ve noticed I’ve developed an attraction to you, and Peter Jessup is coming to my home. I’d like to know what to expect so I can avoid any complications.”

Holy cow.
He flopped that right onto the table. Complications. This butthead didn’t have a clue. “Peter and I are friends.”

You jackass.

He reached a hand toward her breast, a half grin plastered on his face.
Don’t let him touch you.
With her free hand, she grabbed his wrist and held it. If necessary, she could flick it backward and twist until the pain left him begging for mercy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re never alone. And since you just told me you and Peter are only friends, I thought we could take a few minutes.” His grin widened. “Get better acquainted.”

Could this guy be any more arrogant? He certainly wasn’t the most handsome guy she’d ever run into, but he carried himself with self-assurance. Like she was a shoo-in. Then again, she’d probably given him every reason to think so.

She’d have to backpedal. She squeezed his wrist making sure to press her nails into his skin. A low groan came from his throat—the perv liked it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not here in the middle of a road where anyone can come along.” She released him. “I enjoy your company, but next time, ask if you can touch me in an intimate way. That, I insist on.”

Seth rubbed two fingers over the spot on his wrist where she’d punctured him. “You are a puzzle, Isabelle. I rather enjoy this game of yours.”

Idiot
.

He shifted front, his challenging stare never leaving hers. “I’ll be sure to ask permission next time.”

“Probably a wise move,” she said.

That evening, after loading the last of the dinner plates into the dishwasher, Isabelle straightened to find Mary Beth staring at her. Hard. This woman made Creepy Izzy look like a Girl Scout.

“What?” Isabelle asked.

Mary Beth shook her head. “Thank you for helping.”

That was weird. Still though, nice of her to say. “If I eat, I help clean. Besides, with Rebecca not feeling well and in bed, you needed the extra hands.” Unlike Seth who left the cleaning to the womenfolk. Isabelle’s mind wandered back to Peter standing at the kitchen sink the night she had dinner with him and his mother.
He
didn’t have a problem washing dishes.

Feeling Mary Beth’s eyes on her, Isabelle folded the dishrag that had been haphazardly thrown on the counter and wiped her hands on her shorts. “I think we’re done here. I promised Seth I would review some papers for him.”

She’d tossed it out there with nonchalance but, if her plan worked, Mary Beth would wait a few minutes then turn up in the office. With luck, she would pull Seth away and Isabelle could search his office.

When she got to the stairs, she thought back on Peter’s earlier phone call informing her they’d followed Seth’s lunch date to a maximum security women’s prison an hour away.

Maybe some of the prisoners, upon their release, came to live at the compound?

It made sense, in an odd way, but then again, these women must have committed harsh crimes to be in maximum security. She made a mental note to ask Seth about his screening process. Isabelle hoped the prison system reformed people, but the criminal defense attorney in her knew that wasn’t always the case.

Could one of the released prisoners have been staying at the compound and had a falling out with Kendrick? Could she have killed him?

Isabelle climbed the stairs to the second floor thinking about the five families with young children living in the cabins on the property. Would Seth put those children in danger by possibly allowing unreformed inmates to come here? She just didn’t know.

She strode down the hall, past her room and Courtney’s, then Mary Beth’s and her daughter’s rooms. At the end of the hallway, on the left, Seth’s office door was slightly ajar. She rapped twice.

“Come in,” he called, and she stepped in to find him at his desk writing on a legal pad.

The office held the same casually elegant decorating style as the rest of the house. The wood trim gleamed and the burgundy walls brought hominess to the room. The desk lamp replaced the fading sunlight streaming through the large window.

Isabelle sat on one of the black leather chairs in front of the desk and Seth’s eyes locked on her with the anxious hunger of a man needing to get laid. The oily slickness dripped over her and, despite her forced smile, an inward groan traveled down her throat. He was definitely stepping up his aggression.

“I thought I’d check that paperwork for you,” she said.

An odd look crossed Seth’s face and his eyes narrowed. What? Did he expect she was coming to have some quiet time with him?

Not.

“Oh, right. I forgot.” He swiveled to his computer, grabbed the mouse and began opening files. “I’ll print them for you.”

“I can read them on-screen if you’d like. Save the cost of paper and a tree.” She fisted a hand in the air. “Go green.”

Come on, Seth. Go green with me. We’d save the earth and I’d search your computer files.

He smiled. “Go green. Absolutely.”

Yes!
A
rat-a-tat-tat
of victory started in her head and Isabelle smiled before moving to the other side of the desk. All she needed was to get him out of the room for a few minutes and she could peruse his hard drive.

Seth stood and spun the chair for her to sit. “I’ve opened all three files for you. Let me know if you have questions.”

When she scooted the chair closer to the screen, he plopped his hand low on her shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing the rise of her breast.
Hold it, fella.
Her instincts took over before her brain could engage and she stiffened against the unwelcome touch. This jerk just loved testing her.

He snatched his hand away. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

Sure you did
. She breathed deep and thought about her behavior the last few days. She’d been leading him on. Sick as it was, she knew he wanted her, and she’d manipulated it by wearing revealing clothes and prolonging the eye contact.
And let’s not forget laughing at his bland jokes.

Yep. Seth had been reading all those come-hither signals and, after the incident in the car earlier, he was ready to make his move.

The speed of this process left her needing to back him off before he started to question her motives. He probably already had questions about her visit. She’d explained those away as confusion over her strained relationship with Kendrick and her quest for closure.

Now though, this man expected her to jump in the sack with him.

Stall him
. She could do it. Sex was a tool she knew the intricacies of.

“Isabelle?”

She glanced up at him. “It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to flinch. I should have explained when we were in the car today, but I have issues with people touching me. It stems from my mistrust of people.”

Ack!
Wrong thing to say.
Backpedal
. “Not that I don’t trust
you
. I do, but it’s ingrained and totally unfair to people who have been kind to me.”

Seth’s dull hazel eyes softened, and he folded those wandering hands in front of him. “I’ll be more careful.”

She nodded. “Thank you for understanding.”

Their gazes locked for a long moment. She refused to look away. To waver. Giving in to a man like Seth hadn’t been part of her repertoire for years. He finally broke the eye contact and held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention.”

My butt,
Isabelle thought because she never heard an apology.

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned to see Mary Beth hovering in the doorway. Finally. Isabelle refrained from blowing out a breath.

Seth grunted and Isabelle sensed the negative energy swirling around her. Old Mary Beth didn’t disappoint.

“What is it, Mary Beth?” he asked.

“Can I see you a minute?”

“We’re busy.”

Isabelle spun back to Seth. “I don’t mind. I’ll get started on these agreements.”

Mary Beth smiled, but it didn’t resemble anything close to happiness. This smile was all about her winning a perceived battle.
Knock yourself out, Mary Beth. Just get him out of here for a few minutes.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Isabelle turned to the screen. “I’ll be here.”

Reading your files
.

The second he hit the doorway she reached for the mouse, quickly opened the file directory and scanned it. One was labeled Org Undr Priv and Isabelle double clicked. Various names popped on the screen in front of her. Nothing on Marshall Correctional Facility.

Voices from the first floor—Mary Beth’s daughters—drifted up the stairs and Isabelle’s fingers stilled on the mouse. Were they coming up?

She heard the front door close and the voices went silent. Must have gone outside.