Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) (2 page)

The prodigal mother came back five years later, when Spencer was twelve. Claiming to be a changed woman, the former absentee mother promised that she was different and wanted the chance to be the mother Spencer deserved. She’d found God and herself her mother had told the judge, and he’d been convinced. Though, it was more likely her mother’s beauty, and not her convictions, that had swayed him.

And her mother had been different. Gone was the woman who could be hyper and obsessive one moment and then violent and enraged the next. There was no more screaming and cursing. Her mother no longer threw things and broke dishes as she ranted and raged.

And the physical abuse was nonexistent.

No more slaps and kicks.

No having a pillow pressed against her face as she struggled desperately to breathe.

The violent mother was gone, but in her place was someone even worse. A needy, pathetic woman who had been more than willing to degrade herself in order to keep her husband, the first of three, it would turn out to be. Mommy dearest’s three doomed marriages had terrorized Spencer, leaving her with a palpable disdain and distrust of holy matrimony.

Love sent a woman to the depths of despair. Marriage was even worse, as it turned a woman into what Spencer thought of as “that wife”—a clinging woman who would humiliate and demean herself to please her man.

Sighing, Spencer stared at the glass of grapefruit juice Ben had poured her, fortified with a healthy dose of vodka. To calm her nerves, he’d claimed. As if liquor could erase the terror and trauma of waking up to a knife in her face that could have ended up in her back instead of the doorframe.

“How did you get into this business of drugging men and stealing from them?” Ben asked.

Spencer said nothing.

“You’re a beautiful woman,” Ben said. “Why would you risk stealing expensive things from men who would probably fall all over themselves to give them to you if you just asked?”

“I would have to do more than ask.” She stared at the vodka-laden grapefruit juice, tempted to grab it.

“That’s true,” he said and then poured a bit too much vodka into his own glass of grapefruit juice. “You’d probably also have to smile.”

Again, Spencer stayed quiet.

“Are you one of those women who gets turned on by the idea of getting caught taking something that doesn’t belong to her?”

“I’m one of those women who has bills to pay,” she said. “I’m one of those women who lost her job and then couldn’t find another one, and then …”

“And then what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand and neither would you care.”

“I care more than you think, sweet girl,” he said. “Maybe more than I should.”

Rolling her eyes, Spencer glanced out the window over the sink, refusing to believe he’d ever cared about her, or even had the ability to give a damn. “Why don’t you tell me something,” she said. “How did you find out about me? Who told you that I—”

“That you drug old men and rob them blind?”

Deaf, dumb, and blind
, she thought, remembering what Rae always said.

“Well, it is a sad, but interesting, tale of betrayal and heartbreak.” Ben slid the omelet from the skillet onto a plate, then turned, and reached across the island to sit the plate in front of her. “It’s the story of a young handsome industrious and enterprising entrepreneur who made the mistake of extending his compassion, concern, and caring to a beautiful woman who he thought was sweet and kind, but who turned out to be devious and treacherous.”

“Are you going to answer me anytime soon?” she asked, not in the mood to be shamed by his ridiculous theatrics.

“The devious woman stabbed the compassionate entrepreneur, in an act of cold-blooded mercilessness, and left him to die, even though he begged and pleaded with her for help,” Ben said. “Somehow, he was able to crawl to a phone and call nine-one-one. A few weeks later, the man went away to recuperate.”

Spencer rolled her eyes.
 

“During his sabbatical, the man was visited by a very good friend, whom he confided in about his disappointment. The man’s friend was livid at the woman’s callous treatment of the man, and he set out to find out why the woman had done the man wrong. The friend decided to look into the woman’s background—”

“Look into my background?” She stared at him, her heart racing. “You had somebody investigate me?”

“The friend learned several interesting things about the woman,” Ben said, disregarding her questions. “And he shared his findings with the man. It turned out that the woman had a treacherous half-sister, a woman named Desarae Bedard.”

Spencer looked away, her heart racing with fear now, the rage eclipsed by panic and confusion.

“Desarae Bedard, the man’s friend learned, was the star of her own sick, twisted plot,” Ben said and then smiled. “Two years ago, Desarae Bedard had been accused of murdering a wealthy investment banker and his wife. She was cleared, but the subsequent criminal investigation revealed that she had been the investment banker’s secret mistress.”

Spencer scowled at him, not surprised that he’d belittled Rae’s terror and heartbreak, reducing her sister’s anguish to the most sordid details.

“Following the investment banker’s death, she became involved with a man named Mr. Cephas, a disbarred lawyer who reinvented himself as a high-class fence,” Ben said. “The man’s friend informed him that Mr. Cephas often fenced expensive items for Desarae Bedard, who stole them from the rich men she went to dinner with and then drugged. Now, Mr. Cephas, in an act of hospitality, was rumored to have also extended his fencing expertise to Desarae Bedard’s younger sister, Spencer Edwards, the treacherous woman who stabbed the compassionate entrepreneur.”

“Who is this
friend
you told to check me out?” Spencer demanded. “How did he find out that stuff about me and Rae? Who told him?”

“I have no idea who told him,” Ben said. “I only wish he hadn’t told me. Finding out more about you made me understand your actions even less.”

She dropped her gaze to the omelet, the shame returning. Ben’s confusion mirrored hers. When she’d made the decision to “date” Ben, her reasons had made perfect sense. Now, she realized that what she’d thought was logical was actually lunacy.

“I guess I don’t understand how you had the guts to do it,” Ben said, bracing his hands against the edge of the island as he glared at her. “You weren’t scared of getting caught?”

Spencer considered his question, a query she wasn’t sure how to answer. When Ben had fallen asleep, she hadn’t been content about the idea of stealing from him. Convinced that “dating” him was her only option, she’d let misguided convictions lead her into the closet, where she’d found the Rolex watches and cash. Once the loot was in her Coach bag, her only concern was getting out of the house.

And she did get out. Eventually. But not before she’d encountered Ben holding a large gun and pointing it right in her face.

“I guess, sweet girl, I wonder, why me?” Ben asked. “How did you choose me as a target? You usually go for more mature gentlemen.”

Spencer didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t wanted to steal from Ben, but she felt she had no choice. At the time, she’d thought she was falling for him, and the easiest way to stop her descent into romantic madness was to never see Ben again. But she needed a good reason to walk away from him.

Her older sister’s “Dating Protocol” had given her the reason. According to Rae’s rules, you could only “date” a man once. After “dating” a guy, you weren’t supposed to have anything to do with him, just in case the GHB hadn’t been completely effective.

Spencer had reasoned that if she “dated” Ben, she couldn’t see him again. If she never saw him again, then she couldn’t fall in love with him. If she didn’t fall in love with him, then she wouldn’t become “that wife.” Slippery slope logic, she realized now.

“You know, sweet girl,” Ben said and then folded his arms. “I just realized that when I was recounting the compassionate entrepreneur’s sad tale of woe, I completely left out the most important part.”

“And what part was that?”

“I didn’t tell you why I went away to recuperate,” Ben said, then walked around the island, and stood beside her. “You remember I told you about the man who broke into my home that night?”

“The man with the green snake tattoo on his face?” She glanced up, giving him the side-eye.

Resting an arm on the back of her chair, Ben lowered his head until his mouth was inches from her ear. “I wanted to find out how the hell that man got into my home,” he said. “And so I decided to take a look and see.”

Puzzled, she turned her head a fraction and found his mouth merely a breath away. Ignoring the warm skittering feeling below her navel, she said, “Take a look and see what?”

“Come with me,” he said, whispering the words against her skin. “I’ll show you.”

Moments later, in the spacious living room, Ben picked up a remote control from a side table and then told Spencer to take a seat. Wary, she perched on the edge of the black, oversized leather couch, her hands clasped between her knees.

“This is the video from my interior surveillance cameras,” Ben said.

Her heart dropped as she stared at him. “Interior surveillance cameras?”

“I had them in every room of the townhouse,” he said, facing the seventy-inch television against the wall as he pointed the remote control at the screen.

“In every room?”

“Yes, sweet girl,” he said and then turned his head to give her a smile. “There was even a camera in the closet.”

A moment later, the screen flickered and then came to life.

“What we are going to view is raw footage,” he said. “The video feed from the interior surveillance camera in my closet which I copied onto a DVD.”

Sick at the stomach, Spencer grabbed the edge of the couch seat, trying to brace herself. Nothing could have prepared her for the black-and-white images on the screen in front of her. Rigid, nails digging into the leather, she watched herself in the video, trying to deal with the disconnected feeling of seeing herself doing things she still couldn’t believe she’d done; the woman on screen, removing the watches and money, seemed like someone else, and yet it was her.

“So, that’s how you knew I stole from you.”

“That’s how I knew.”

“Now what? You going to show that video to the cops? You gonna have me arrested?”

“I thought about it,” Ben said. “It’s what you deserve. Five to ten behind bars. But then I thought, maybe I can use this video for good and not evil. Maybe I can use it to teach you a lesson, one that you won’t forget. Maybe I can use this video to make you suffer, the way I suffered that night after you stabbed me and left me to die. Maybe you need to see how it feels to wonder if your next breath will be your last … I managed to call nine-one-one, and then I passed out. Woke up in a hospital. I don’t know how many days had passed. I hardly knew who the hell I was. Took me several days to remember what had happened to me. And then, one day, the memories came rushing in like a flood, damn near drowning me. And then, I couldn’t get what you had done to me out of my head, even though I wanted to. I wanted to forget. I even wanted to forgive. But I couldn’t. There were days when it was almost like I could feel that knife plunging into my gut. I told myself I had to find you. I couldn’t let you get away with what you’d done. And that is why, sweet girl, you owe me this favor.”

Trembling, she stared up at him. “What is this damn favor about?”

“I told you last night.” He sat on the coffee table, facing her. “I want you to go to Belize, and once you are there, I will let you know what to do next.”

Belize City, Belize

Goldson International Airport

Spencer ducked her head as she climbed into the taxi and slid across the stained, careworn bench seat, announcing her destination to the man behind the wheel. “Belizean Banyan Resort.”
 

Nodding, the driver shifted gears and pulled away from the curb, leaving the airport.

It was a lovely day, with an expansive blue sky, brilliant white clouds, and a shimmering sun. Spencer hardly noticed. She was unable to concentrate on the lush, tropical scenery. Collapsing against the seat, she took a deep breath, and tried to calm down.

The two-hour flight from Houston had been hell. Despite four glasses of wine, she hadn’t been able to relax. Every other minute, panic had assailed her, flooding her mind with thoughts of the night she and Ben had made love for the very first time. The night she’d made a mistake so horrible, it was almost perfect.

An absolutely flawless mistake that had taken her to hell and back. Except she wasn’t back—not yet. She wouldn’t be back until she completed the favor for Ben.

The cab turned from the main highway and onto a side road cut through what seemed to be a small village of clapboard houses. Spencer stared out the window at the yards littered with junked cars, dilapidated furniture, and clothes swinging in the breeze on thin lines stretched between trees.
 

As the cab driver followed the curving road, Spencer couldn’t stop worrying, wondering what Ben wanted her to do. He’d said it would be a favor, but it hadn’t taken him long to let her know that he wasn’t really asking for her help.

You owe me, sweet girl.

She’d stolen from him. Now she had a debt to pay.

Consequences for your mistakes.

Spencer stared out at the countryside, taking in the wide fields of grass dotted with bunches of low bushes and vibrant wildflowers.

Farther inland, scrub brush clung to the ground, spreading in and around various shrubs and saplings. Beyond the trees, clumps of vegetation climbed up the slope of a verdant mountain that loomed toward the sky.

She’d never been to the small Central American country before but had heard others rave about the beauty of its coral reefs and jungles and its cultural significance as the site of various Mayan ruins.

Looking away from the lush scenery, Spencer crossed her arms, feeling both defiant and forlorn. Her fellow travelers had been an eclectic mix of nationalities and socio-economic types, all of them excited about their Belizean adventure, reading guidebooks and discussing plans for excursions.