Captured Lies (8 page)

There was no response for several
seconds. “I’m really sorry about this, Cassidy.”

The distinct click sound let her
know there was no use in responding.

Cassidy? Who the hell is
Cassidy? Just like I thought, he has the wrong person.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

“Hello?” He reached for the remote and flipped off the sound
to the six o’clock news.

“She met with a guy in the park
today. He gave her something. A picture or something.” Payme drew in a deep
breath, then rolled the mixture of snot and spit in his throat before spitting
a large loogie on the ground.

“You have to get that photo from
her.” Fear clawed its way up his throat and clung there, fluttering like a cave
full of bats. He’d never actually seen the picture but he knew in detail what
it contained. After all he had a starring role, though not one he wanted
publicized. Someone else seeing that photo after all this time made him sick to
his stomach. He’d gotten greedy, too high on himself. Thought he was really
above it all. After all, he was the son-in-law of the filthy rich, the Filmores.
That made him pause as he realized that embarrassing his rich in-laws might
have been a stronger motivator than he’d thought. There had been a part of him
that had wanted them to find it, to be humiliated beyond belief. But now he
knew he’d be the only one to pay, to lose everything. They’d see to that. The
only saving grace for hiring Payme had been that he could have him put away for
a very long time and he knew that. And since the guy had a few enemies in
prison, the odds of him living longer than a few days, was highly unlikely. He
would be loyal.

“Do it now. I want it today.”

This has got to end.
Twenty-nine years of this. I make the rules. No one is going to change that due
to one miscalculation.

He’d liked being in charge of the
game. Now, however, someone had changed the rules. “Do not harm her.” He had
plans for using her. There was so much she didn’t know about her mother but she
might know enough to help him make money in the future. “I don’t think she
knows anything about what her mother was doing. Or be able to recognize who’s
in the photo. Get it.”

After hanging up the phone and he
collapsed back on his leather sofa. He knew that if anyone saw that photo he
was finished. He’d no longer be the middle class kid who’d made it into the
filthy rich club. He’d be finished. Worse, he’d be a joke. One that could go to
jail.

The thought of being sent to
prison where he had helped send many that he was supposed to have defended was
not something he could stomach. Bile rose in his throat. He jerked forward and
ran out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom sink across the hall.

He splashed cold water on his
face and rinsed his mouth, ignoring the mess he’d made. It would be good if his
wife Betty thought he was ill, then maybe she’d take care of him like she had
in their early years together. Knowing that was highly unlikely, he braced
himself on his arms. It had never really occurred to him what people would
think if they knew about him. He’d never planned on it coming to light. The
worst part would be what his dear father-in-law would do; he still held all the
purse strings.

There was no way he was going to
lose it all. He lifted his head and stared at the wall three feet away. He’d
worked too hard to gain the prestige he now had. The game had taken a twist he’d
never really believed would come. A twist that almost had him wishing he’d
never helped Donna escape her husband. He should have cut his losses a long
time ago
. But they provided me with so many people to screw over.

The thrill the game had given him
had been so exhilarating. He’d played them both like pawns in a chess match.
Shuddering, he realized he was being called into check. This is my game.
I’ll
be the one calling checkmate.

He hated this new feeling of fear,
of no longer being in control. It was so foreign to him now. And had been for a
very long time. There was one thing he knew that would make him feel better.
The one thing that had been caught in a photograph. The one thing that would
bring him down.

Clearing his throat, he lowered
his voice making it sound like a heavy smoker’s, as he picked up the phone and
dialed a number he knew well.
I will not be beaten at the game I invented!

****

Bailey snatched the ringing phone
off the hook just before heading out the door.

“All right dammit. I said I’d
meet you.”

A raspy, breathless sound greeted
her.

“Listen dammit–”

“No, you listen.”

Chills shook her body.

“Your mother got too big for her
britches. Demanding too much. So you give me what I want. You give me her
little cash daddy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about. You have the wrong person.”

“No, Bails. You are the one!” His
raspy, echoing laugh slithered over her like slime.

Bailey slammed the phone down and
rested her head on her arm, waiting for the shakes to subside. The only person
who ever called her Bails was her mom.

Pushing away from the wall, she
squared her shoulders and headed out the door. She was going to get some
answers as to what the hell was going on.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bailey got in her car and drove. Right, off of Macleod, onto
Shaughnessy Blvd. Then look for Shaughnessy Way. Several blocks later, a right,
a left and one block down, there it was on the left hand side. Bailey looked
again at the address on the page she’d ripped out of her mom’s phone book when
she noticed the sign high up in the air. She whipped into the parking lot and
pulled into the first stall she could find.

With a quick glance at her watch
she noted she was right on time, not her usual ten minutes to half an hour
early. But then she usually had her computer to Google a map for directions.

She jumped out of the car. Her
next rental would have GPS. With the new job she was starting, she’d be able to
afford it. As she approached the front of the restaurant, she stopped. To her
right was the entrance to the patio, which looked to be open with only a few
people there. Or at least what she could see through the eight-foot palms and
vines they had circling the place. To her left was the front entrance – large
enough for Paul Bunyan to enter. The beautiful, fourteen foot long mahogany
door made a very bold statement against the grey stone wall.

The patio seemed less
intimidating so she walked through the black wrought iron gates and up the two
steps. Slowly she wound her way through the high tables. Four people occupied a
table off to her right. Two sat in the middle and two were at the bar. None
were her guy.

She shivered, pulling her spring
jacket tighter around her as a cool breeze seemed to have followed her into the
place. Ahead was an outdoor area enclosed with a three-foot high lattice fence
and ceiling with vines interwoven through each of the holes.

She climbed the two stairs. The
back of her neck started to tingle. She peeked over her shoulder. Lounging back
in a cushioned chair, he tilted his beer to her. Something she would have
dearly loved to have but since she wasn’t sticking around, she’d pass. Her gaze
met his. She’d never worked in a grocery store but she felt scanned, weighed
and priced. He got to his feet as she approached the table. She put up her hand
before he decided to do any more gentlemanly deeds, like pull out her chair.

“I’m not Cassidy. I’m really
sorry you’ve gone to so much trouble only to find the wrong person.” She
dropped her arm to her side. “I just want you to know I’m done playing your
game. Too many nuts are coming out of the woodwork.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you,” she stared
pointedly at him, “and the nut case who called me. And I don’t know how many
others. What I do know is that I’m done. I’m going home. So leave me alone.
Best of luck.”

His eyes never wavered from her
face but he stayed silent.

Her whole life she’d been told
what to do – do this, don’t do that. He wasn’t telling her anything. He was
leaving the decision up to her. But he was also letting her know he wouldn’t
leave her alone. Not until they’d talked.

She had no idea how long they
stood there but at some point she gave in and sat down. He ordered her a drink.

“Do you always get what you
want?”

He shrugged and then downed half
his beer. “I need you to just listen. I want to show you some things.” He put
up his hand like a traffic cop.

Bailey snapped her mouth closed.

“Would you like to order now?”
The young waitress set down Bailey’s drink.

“No thanks.” Bailey tried to
smile but wasn't sure it came across as anything more than a grimace.

“Not now.” Guy, however, was able
to give the server his full wattage grin.

“All right. Just wave when you’re
ready.” The waitress turned away.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.” Bailey gulped down a
healthy swig of her beer. She was tempted to swipe her arm across her mouth
just to see his reaction.

“I’m paying for the meal.”

“Well in that case…” She waved at
the waitress who was only a few tables away. When the server came, Bailey said,
“I’ll have anything that has lobster in it.” She knew she was being a bitch but
she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself. Everyone seemed to want something
from her.

The waitress rattled off three
dishes and Bailey chose the most expensive one. Guy ordered a steak sandwich.

She settled back and sipped her
beer. For some reason she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the cleft in his
chin. It was really kind of cute and added to the macho, rugged guy thing.

“Here’s what I know–”

“What?”

“That picture I gave you is your
real great grandma, on your mom’s side. Her name was Catherine Caspian. Here’s
a better picture of her.”

Bailey stared. Her eyes opened
wide. Except for the wavy hair, it was her face. The flat forehead, high
defined cheekbones, rounded chin, bumpy nose. Bailey traced her finger over the
features. This was her. How come she’d never seen this before? What the hell
had her mother been hiding from her? And why? She really wanted to know who all
these people were that were showing up in her life wanting to know things that
just couldn’t be true.

Her hands shook. “What color were
her eyes?” It was impossible to know from the black and white picture.

“Glacial green. The same as the
glacially fed lakes in the mountains. They have a distinct green-blue hue to
them.”

Bailey’s head snapped up.

“Like yours.”

He held her gaze. She stared at
him for a long time.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

She looked at the picture again.
The eyes were full of mischief. She’d been a young girl defying the rules.
I
would have liked to have met you.
Her head snapped up. “Okay. I want some
answers. No more tap dancing. This is me. So I’m related to her. Where are the
rest of my relatives? Why now? They wanted nothing to do with my mother for
thirty years, so why now?”

“How much do you know about your
mother’s family? Or your father’s?”

“None of your business. I want to
know what you know. You’re the one who came looking for me. Now talk.”

He guzzled the rest of his beer
and then set it down with a plunk. He signaled the waitress for two more.
Bailey downed her drink. She toyed with the label, carefully peeling it off the
bottle. The new drinks were set down in front of them. They reached for them at
the same time.

“Your great-grandmother is dead.”

She tilted her head and lifted
her eyes skyward, blowing out an exasperated breath.

“All right. Rather obvious.” He
rested his elbows on the table. “Your grandmother is still alive, though.”

“Really?” She leaned forward her
stomach pressed into the table.

“Yeah.” He studied the label of
his beer. Sighing, he stared past her for a few minutes, like he was searching
for answers and then finally met her gaze. “There’s just your mom on her side
but you have two uncles and two aunts on your dad’s side. Then there are the
in-law Aunts and Uncles.”

Stunned, she flopped back into
her chair.
I have family. Lots of them.
“Cousins? Are there cousins?”

“Ten first and some second and
third.”

Oh my God.
This was too
much like her dreams as a child. She dreamt her family would find her, make up
with her mom. They’d bring tons of gifts and everyone would hug and kiss her.
They’d stop moving. She’d get to have sleep overs at her grandma’s. Her aunts
and uncles. And she’d have enough cousins to make two softball teams. And she’d
have friends to play with. Real ones. She’d get to have birthday parties. Every
year. Not just when her mom remembered - which had never been on the same date.
If she hadn’t had a birth certificate she’d have wondered. Another of her mom’s
rules – never get hung up on dates.

She shook her head. “Where do
they live? What do they do? Do they know about me?” She wondered why she’d
never heard of them or how come they wanted to find her now.
How come, Mom?

“Hi. I’ve got the lobster.” The
waitress set the plate down in front of Bailey. Startled, she jerked back but
the waitress was already smiling at Guy. “The steak sandwich must be yours.”
She set down the plate in front of him, carefully arranging it.

He smiled at her, flashing almost
perfect white teeth. Bailey rolled her eyes. When the girl finally moved off, she
asked, “Like robbing the cradle, do you?”

He gave her an indulgent look
before digging into his food.

She felt a twinge of guilt at her
catty remark but shrugged it off. The luxurious smell of her food soon drew her
attention. The lobster was piled carefully into a coiffed mound, with steamed
carrots and whipped potatoes. Any other time she would have dug in and enjoyed
the expensive meal she never would have bought for herself. Only she wasn’t
hungry anymore. There was no way she was going to be able to get anything down
into her knotted stomach.

She looked up and met a pair of
sky blue eyes. They studied her. She tried not to squirm or to open her mouth
and be flippant and for some reason she didn’t this time.

“Something wrong with the food?”
He raised his right eyebrow.

“No.” Sighing, she pushed away
her plate. “Enough BS, I want some information now. How did you find me? How
long have you been looking? Who hired you?” She looked out over the rapidly
filling patio. “Where is my family?” She turned back and stared at the man who
had the answers to her future.

And her past.

He carefully cut another piece of
his steak sandwich and put it in his mouth. If there had been any other way for
her to get what she wanted, she’d have stormed out. Since he had the answers,
she picked up her beer and leaned back in her seat, to wait him out. If there
was one thing she’d learned from her ex-boss, Dahlia Cornblum, it was how to
play the role of a polished poker player to get what you want. Bailey had
learned to play poker at eight but never how to really play 'the game’.

“How much do you know about your
family?”

“Wrong question. You already
asked that. I want to know what you know.” She tipped her bottle to him. “So
spill.”

He held her gaze for the longest
time. The overhead lantern provided a gentle, romantic glow that was faint
enough that it hid his face in the shadows. She continued to wait for him to
share what he knew.

“Just bear with me. I need to
know what you know, so I know where to start.”

“Been practicing that line for a
while?” She glanced down, her gaze caught by the knight’s helmet and initials
on the right side of his navy blue, silky shirt, K A. She wondered what that
stood for.

“All right. Fair enough. Okay.
This is going to be hard for you to hear. So…” He shoved his hand through his
neatly combed hair.

“Your real name is Cassidy
Lefevre. You’re twenty-nine. You were born on February 12th, 1983, in Quebec.”

The sounds of the other customers,
the traffic passing by and the noise seemed amplified all at once. She jumped
up. “Frick, I knew you had the wrong person.” She mumbled some things, as she
sat back down just as fast. All her life had been about running, she was
working hard to change that. He had some answers. She hoped.

“I know it’s hard to believe but
I do have the right person. You saw the picture for yourself. I’m not a left
wing quack that doesn’t know what my right wing is doing. I’m not really sure
what that is but…”

Heat crawled up her face. She was
glad that the place was gloomy and he wouldn’t be able to see her fire engine
red face. “It can’t be possible.” Shaking to the core of her being, she placed
her hands over her mouth. “My mother…” She turned away not sure what it was she
had been about to say. A few people were openly staring at them and obviously
eavesdropping.

“I have lots I need to tell you.
Is there some place we can go where it’s quieter and I can share with you what
I know?”

“Umm… Maybe…”

“I think I passed a lounge a
couple of blocks from here. It looked pretty empty. Want to take a chance?”
After she nodded, he tossed down some bills.

He motioned for her to go first.
His warm hand against her lower back was the impetus she needed to shake out of
her confusion. She strode along, fast but he matched her pace, his fingers a
steady presence. It was very tempting to lean back into that warm, comforting
hold, something she’d never had in her life.

“Follow me. Okay?”

“Sure.” She said, as she slid
behind the steering wheel. She watched as he climbed into a new SUV rental.

He’s from out of town too.
Something she always felt. From out of town. No matter where she and her mom
had lived. She was never from there. Never from anywhere.
Is that why no one
could find us, Mom?

A horn honked. She looked around.
He was waiting for her, so she started her car and pulled out behind him. She
did as he asked, all the way to the quiet lounge. She saw him park and get out
of the vehicle and walk towards where she was sitting in her car at the
entrance to the parking lot. The Guess Who’s song, Laughing came on the radio.
It had been her mom’s favorite song.

What the hell?