Holiday Illusion (12 page)

“Nothing. I'm going to call Jennifer and see if she can get me some information on the catering company. Like who's doing it and what their uniforms look like.”

“What's your plan once you get inside?”

“To slip into de Chastelain's office and have a look around. That memory card didn't just walk off. The FBI raided the house really quickly after I called them. De Chastelain was too busy getting rid of the body and any evidence that he'd killed someone to have time to look for anything I might have hidden—even if he'd suspected I'd done so. The crime-scene people found a minimal amount of blood in the room, not enough to prove someone bled out there. Which isn't surprising since de Chastelain stabbed the man. I'm sure he had the rug removed and replaced it with one from one of the other rooms. The blood that was found was on the edge of the bottom of the sofa. When questioned about it, de Chastelain claimed he had had a nosebleed and must not have gotten it all cleaned up.”

“Yeah, but blood typing could easily disprove that claim.”

“True, but the blood type matched his. So did the DNA.” She shrugged. “When that came back they didn't have justification for further investigation. They had no body, the blood type matched a man who was alive and well and de Chastelain was threatening to pull out the big guns with lawyers and such. So, the FBI backed off, especially since they didn't find that memory card I told them about.”

“And you think you can find it after all this time? That seems unlikely.”

“I have no idea. I just know I have to try to do something, find out a reason for it disappearing.”

“You realize I'm going with you.”

“Absolutely not.” Twin lines appeared above her nose as she shot him a ferocious frown. “De Chastelain obviously knows by now that we know each other. If you show up, he's going to wonder why. It might make him suspicious enough to keep an eye out for me. And I definitely don't need that complication.” Another thought made her gasp. “In fact, that very invitation could be a trap if he thinks you'll show up. De Chastelain isn't stupid. If he's been watching us like I think he has, then he probably realizes he could use you to get to me. I need you to stay here.”

Storm clouds gathered in his eyes. “You aren't going alone. Forget it.”

“I don't plan to go alone. That's where Jennifer comes in.”

S
unday morning Anna came down the steps, stomach rumbling. It had been a long night and she'd not slept well. Tantalizing aromas greeted her as she entered the kitchen. Once she'd finally fallen asleep, she'd slept later than she'd intended and it looked like everyone else had finished up some time ago.

Except the man sitting at the table sipping his coffee, reading the newspaper. Oh boy. Did she turn and run or follow through on her original plans to satisfy her complaining stomach?

The decision made her pause for a split second. Long enough for Thomas Bennett to turn and scowl at her. “Well, are you waiting for an invitation?”

“No sir, not at all.”

“Grab a plate and sit.”

Part of her wanted to refuse based on the principle that no one bossed her around, but her midsection protested the thought by emitting another embarrassingly loud growl. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I think I will.”

She filled her plate from the small buffet table off to the side and sat in the chair farthest away from the cantankerous old man. Where was Lucas?

Maddy came in with a coffeepot and filled her cup for her. “Thank you, Maddy.”

“You're welcome.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Lucas said to let you sleep as long as you wanted. He decided to take one of the boats out for a spin. Godfrey and Dahlia decided to go away for a couple of days on a little minivacation.”

“Yeah, now that you and Lucas are here, he figures you'll do to play babysitter.” The bitter words couldn't quite hide the hint of resignation, as if Thomas had come to terms with the fact that he didn't like having to rely on someone else to make sure he was all right, but wasn't going to deny that he needed it. Maddy scurried out of the kitchen, intimidated by the man's tone.

Anna didn't let it bother her. She'd certainly dealt with worse when she'd been an agent. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He gave her a speculative look. “No, there's nothing you can do for me that I can't do for myself in spite of what my nephew thinks.”

Anna smiled. “I think you're a very clever man who knows how to get what he wants while making others believe that's what they want too.”

Respect flickered in his eyes and he lifted his coffee cup in a sharp salute. “I'd say you are an extremely bright young woman.”

“Hmm.” She stabbed a bite of eggs and hid her surprise at the unexpected compliment. “I thought I might go to church. Is there one around here?”

“Church. What a crutch. You ought to learn to stand on your own two feet without needing all that religious stuff.” He snorted. “And here I was thinking there was something I could respect about you. I thought you were a stronger woman than that.”

Anna considered how to respond. She'd noticed the hurt beneath the bluster, so she went the soft but firm route. “I'm strong because of Him.” She leaned forward. “Tell me something. Why is it so wrong to ask for help? When you're sick, don't you go to the doctor? When your car breaks down, don't you take it to the person who can fix it? Why is it so wrong to turn to God when you need strength in your spirit, your soul?”

That stopped him a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Opened it again. Shut it again.

Anna laid a hand over his, compassion stirring her. “I don't know why you're so angry and bitter with God, whether it's because of Lance's death or your wife's, or something altogether unrelated to that, but God's big enough to handle it. Maybe you should talk to Him about it. Give Him a chance to help you deal with it.”

She'd stumped the poor man. He looked absolutely lost for words. Anna gave him another gentle smile and quietly finished her breakfast.

Thomas continued to sip his coffee and read his paper, but every once in a while Anna would feel his gaze on her. She waited.

Clearing his throat, the man finally asked, “So, you're the reason my boy is thinking about religion? God?”

“I think God is the reason Lucas is thinking about God. But I hope that I was able to influence him in that direction.”

“Humph.”

Giving him another smile, she got to her feet and left the room. She was hoping Lucas was back so she could ask him to go to church with her. He was and agreed to go with her.

Two hours later, the service over, they stepped out of the old church building with Anna's heart feeling more peaceful than it had in a long time. Part of that had to do with the fact that Lucas had joined her and said he'd enjoyed the service. He'd changed since Paulo's surgery and the day in the ocean. His eyes held a new sense of contentment. Yes, she still had a killer after her and Lucas was trapped right in the middle, but the knowledge that God was on their side brought them both a confidence that she couldn't deny. Her heart rejoiced in his newfound faith. She just prayed she'd have the chance to watch him grow in it.

Anna knew the service had been just what she needed even though she'd looked over her shoulder more than once. She couldn't shake that creepy feeling of being watched. Still, the worship music had been wonderful and the pastor had a straight-to-the-point sermon on living your faith, being an example to those around you. Anna had prayed for another opportunity to do that again with Lucas's father.

However, the chance never popped up because all week long Anna laid low, rarely leaving the house, staying more to herself or spending time with Lucas rather than being social. She'd also seriously considered leaving again, but finally gave up the idea because every time she suggested the possibility, Lucas vetoed it with promises to track her down. For his own safety, she stayed, assuring herself the relief she felt at not leaving had nothing to do with the fact that she didn't want to leave Lucas, but that she wouldn't have to find a cheap hotel room to hole up in.

The fact that Lucas had called in a couple of favors and had someone watching the house around the clock also helped her in making the decision. He waved off her protest at the expense he was incurring and she finally gave in, admitting she felt safer in spite of her objections. So, Andrew Silver had arrived, a man of medium height, steely muscles and a subdued demeanor. She didn't let that fool her. He would be lethal in a fight. Lucas had decided to hire the man for extra protection after the break-in of her room last week, which had made him nervous, and she'd agreed to the need for the tighter security—at least until she left.

Andrew stayed back, out of sight but always watching. Lucas and Andrew had gone to college together and remained friends even when their careers took off in different directions. He'd been glad to catch up with Lucas and appreciated the job.

She checked on Paulo's progress daily and was ecstatic to hear how quickly the little guy was recuperating. Their talks on the phone were the highlight of her day, other than when she and Lucas managed to spend some time together.

Marybeth Ferris showed up for dinner nearly every day and when she did, Anna took most of her meals in her room, not wanting to bother with the woman's jealousy. Plus, she didn't want to hear from Thomas Bennett how Marybeth was the perfect mother for his grandchildren.

Nope, she'd just save herself some grief and do the cowardly thing by hiding out and avoiding the situation. She did join Lucas and rest of the family for Thanksgiving dinner, but otherwise, she kept to herself as much as possible.

And worked on the plan to get into de Chastelain's house.

Jennifer had been thrilled to hear from her, but shocked when Anna revealed her suspicions about Justin. Promising to look into Justin, Jennifer also agreed to get a catering uniform for Anna and have it sent to the Bennett house.

It had arrived thirty minutes ago. The party was tomorrow night.

She'd tried on the uniform of black shoes, black pants, a white long-sleeved tuxedo shirt with a black bow tie and a maroon button-up vest. Her hair, the curls long enough now to be pulled into a short ponytail, would be gathered up into a hairnet. And her ensemble would be complete.

The knock on the door pulled her away from the mirror. That would be Lucas.

Pausing, her hand on the knob, her heart galloping full speed ahead at the idea of spending time with Lucas, she told her pulse to settle down. A deep breath helped settle her nerves and she pulled the door open.

And the butterflies moved in. Nuts.

Ignoring her fluttering stomach, she smiled.

“How'd you like to do something a little different today?” he asked.

“What?”

“What if I took you flying?”

“Flying? As in wings and in the air?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I think we could both use a stress reliever. I called Ted and asked him to get the plane ready.”

“You own a plane?”

“Well, not me, personally. It's Ted's plane. His passion. But he taught me to fly before I could drive, and I've kept my license current. So, are you up to it?”

She hesitated. A whole week had passed without incident, yet she had the gloomy feeling of waiting for the other shoe to fall. Did she dare hope they could go flying without something going wrong?

“Come on.” He took her hand in his and she allowed him to pull her from the room. She pushed aside the negative feelings, instead focusing on noticing how nicely his large palm wrapped around her fingers. She followed him down to the small hangar she'd thought was just a fancy barn.

Ted and Joni lived in the house next to the hangar. “So, Ted knows how to fly a plane.”

“And anything else with wings.”

Anna pulled to a stop. “Does he know how to fly a helicopter?”

“Sure…” Lucas trailed off, seeing where she was going with this line of questioning. He held up his hands. “No way. Don't even go thinking that Ted had anything to do with that business out on the ocean. He's been with my family for years. Actually, I think of Ted as more of a father than I do my own flesh and blood.”

“I'm not accusing him, Lucas, just asking.”

“And I'm telling you to forget it,” he snapped.

Slapping her hands on her hips, she said, “And I'm telling you, I have to investigate every angle.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Lucas shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them, most of his initial defensiveness was gone. “I'm sorry. It's just…I can't even comprehend…”

“This is going to sound awful, but I'm going to ask. What is Ted's financial status? Could he be bought off? I mean, think about it. He's had access to everything. He's a pilot. He had access to your car at the hospital. He knew we were coming home from the airport. He could search my room with no one thinking anything about him being in the house. He also had time to be picked up by the boat, get back to the house, change clothes, grab another boat and come get us. Everything, Lucas. It all fits.”

“Maybe it fits too easily.”

“Or maybe it fits just right.”

“But how would de Chastelain know you and I were flying back from Brazil?”

“Justin. What if Justin told him I flew home with you?”

A light dawned as he followed her logic. His face lost a few shades of color as he played it out. “So Justin calls de Chastelain to warn him. De Chastelain does a little investigation into my father's staff to see who might be bought off. Finds something on Ted and blackmails him into setting up all these incidences. Then Ted has a change of heart at the last minute and rescues us from the ocean, or simply rescues us to throw suspicion away from himself. Maybe de Chastelain threatened him with something, violence against his family, or whatever and Ted cut the brakes to the car after he helped deliver it to the hospital.”

“Could it be?” she whispered.

“Maybe instead of going flying, we need to do a little investigating into Ted's background.”