Intimate Betrayal (22 page)

“But we never crossed the line.” She stared at her husband, searching for the entry to the depths of his soul. “And I've never regretted my decision.”

Claudia stretched her arm to touch him, smoothing his hair with her hand and loving him with her eyes. She managed a small, quivering smile and a surge of relief like one he'd never known filled him with an exquisite joy.

Their hearts beat together in perfect synchronization as James pulled his wife into his arms.

 

Victoria pushed herself up from her seat and crossed the room to her night table. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out her business phone book and flipped to the W's.

The phone was answered on the second ring. “
Washington Post,
Stan Tilden speaking.”

“Hi, Stan, this is Victoria Davenport.”

Stan beamed, the story she'd fed him years ago had made his career. “Vikki, how are you? Long time. How's the computer business?”

“That's what I want to talk with you about, Stan,” she replied in a soft Southern drawl. “I have some information I believe you'll be interested in.”

Stan opened his appointment book. “I'm free this evening. Where can we meet?”

R
eese pulled herself up from the grip of sleep. She blinked several times to clear her vision. By the angle of the sun streaming in through the window, she surmised it must be close to 7:00 p.m.

She turned her head to peer at the digital clock on the bedside table. Her conclusion was confirmed: seven-fifteen. She yawned and stretched her long limbs. She'd been asleep for close to three hours. And thankfully her headache was gone. She yawned again.

With effort she sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side, her toes tickled by the copper-colored rug. Stretching her arms over her head, she drew in a deep breath and her nostrils were instantly filled with the aromas of something delicious. Her stomach growled in response.

Smiling, she ambled into the adjoining bathroom, splashed cool water on her face, brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. Finished, she reentered the bedroom and
selected a white T-shirt and a pair of salmon-colored shorts to change into.

Moments later she descended the spiral staircase and entered the kitchen to be greeted by the magnificent spectacle of Maxwell's bare chest.

“Hello, sleepyhead.” He smiled in greeting. “How's that headache?”

“All gone, doc.” She crossed the room and slipped her arms around his waist. “I feel like new.” She pressed her head against his chest. “And I'm starved, I might add.”

Maxwell's deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and she snuggled closer. “Now how did I know that?” he teased. “Well, m'lady, dinner will be served as soon as you set the table.”

“Great,” she enthused. “Inside or outside?” She moved toward the cupboard, removing dishes and glasses.

“It's still really nice out, and I'd love to share the sunset with you.”

“Then outside it is.” She placed the dishes, cups, silverware and serving bowls on a large tray and took everything out to the deck.

The warm evening breeze blew gently through the screening that encircled the deck. The sounds of Earl Klugh's “Balladina” filtered through the air.

 

Reese took another mouthwatering forkful of Max's creation of sautéed shrimp and diced chicken over a bed of herb-drenched pasta topped with the creamiest sauce she'd ever tasted. She closed her eyes in contentment. “Absolutely delicious,” she cooed.

Maxwell leaned back in the redwood chair and crossed his hands over his taut stomach. For several moments, he simply stared at her, relishing the moment of peace and tranquillity. He wasn't sure what he would do if anything happened to
her because of him. If only he could just take her away from all of this treachery and lies and betrayals, he would. But he also realized that Reese would fight him tooth and nail and then resent him for it in the end. As infuriating as she could be when she'd made up her mind, it was one of the many attributes that he admired in her. Maybe even loved, his conscience whispered, the now formalized thought jolting him.

He shook his head, scattering his thoughts, when the ringing of the phone intruded. “Be right back.” He pushed open the sliding glass doors and stepped inside.

Hearing the phone ring reminded Reese that she still had not heard from Lynnette. That was so unlike her, Reese thought, her initial concern mounting. Perhaps she'd called Max's office after they'd left. But even so, she was certain that Carmen would have told Lynnette where she was.

“That was Carmen,” Max said, stepping through the sliding doors. “Our flight is scheduled for tomorrow evening at six o'clock.”

“Did she say anything about Lynnette?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No, she didn't.”

Reese got up. “I'm going to call and see if I can reach her. I may be able to catch her at the office.” She brushed past him and into the house.

Reese tapped her foot with impatience and growing anxiety listening to the phone ring. Lynnette's voice mail finally triggered. Immediately she bypassed the message by pressing 0 and was switched to the main line.

“
Visions Magazine.
May I help you?”

“Hi. This is Reese Delaware. I'm trying to reach Lynnette.”

“Oh, Reese, I'm so glad you called. This is Diane,” the receptionist said.

Reese's pulse raced as a wave of apprehension swept through her, “What is it, Diane?” she insisted.

“There's been an accident,” Diane said as calmly as she could. “Lynnette's in the hospital. She was hit by a car.”

A tiny gasp sputtered from Reese's lips. “Oh my God,” she cried, fear of the worst rioting through her. “How bad—when?”

“It was earlier this morning around eleven. She'd gone out…”

Reese began to shake as the frightening image of Lynnette lying in the street took shape in her head. With a pang she realized that it must have happened when she'd gone out to call her. Guilt snatched her by the throat cutting off her air.

“…the doctors said she's stable and awake.”

“Did they get the driver?” Reese asked in a tremulous voice.

“That's the worst part,” Diane replied. “It was a hit-and-run.”

Reese clenched her hand until her nails bit into her palm. “Give me the name of the hospital and the number,” she said in a thick unsteady voice. “Please,” she whispered as an afterthought.

“Hold on. I have it right here.”

Reese took down the name and phone number fighting to steady her shaky hand. “Thank you, Diane.” She hung up before Diane could reply.

“Everything okay?” Maxwell asked from behind her.

Reese spun around, an unspoken pain alive and glowing in her amber eyes. She seemed to be staring right through him Max thought, anxiety steadily winding its way through him.

“Reese, what is it?” He swiftly crossed the room and she flung herself into his arms.

“It's Lynn…” she cried, the tears now beginning to flow.
She began to shake and Max held her tighter. “She's been in a…car accident. A hit-and-run.”

“Oh, Reese, I'm so sorry. How is she?”

Reese retold what Diane had said and all the while that she spoke, Maxwell knew without a doubt that it was no accident. The chilling words of the note he'd received earlier by the unidentified messenger played back in his mind.

“I've got to get to Chicago,” Reese said suddenly, pulling away from his embrace. She swiped the back of her hand across her face streaking tears and mascara over her cheeks.

“No, Reese, you can't,” Max said definitively, grabbing her upper arm to halt her progress.

But the steely tone of his voice would have been enough to stop her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty. “W-what is it Max? Tell me.”

“Sit down, Reese.” Her movements seemed to be guided by the sheer strength of his voice as she found her way to the nearest chair.

Maxwell stooped down in front of her until he was at eye level. He took both of her hands in his. “It was no accident, Reese,” he began and tightened his grip when he felt her recoil. Holding on to her with his right hand, he removed the note with the other. “I got this earlier today.” He handed her the note. “I'm pretty sure the messenger was sent by Frank Murphy.”

He gently stroked her thigh as her eyes glided over the neatly typed words—
Your girlfriend is next
—which seemed to blur and dance before her eyes. Reese swallowed hard and crushed the thin sheet of paper in her fist. A sensation of intense sickness and desolation swept over her. She took several deep breaths until she felt strong enough to raise her head and meet Maxwell's gentle gaze. “What are we going to do, Max?” she asked over her choking, beating heart.

“You're going to call the hospital and find out about Lynnette. Then we're going to pack, try to get some rest, and catch our flight tomorrow. We'll be safe there. No one is expecting us to leave until next week. I spoke with Chris in Tokyo while you were asleep. He suggested that we stay in a hotel instead of my house.”

Reese nodded numbly.

Maxwell reached up on the counter and handed her the phone. “Call Lynnette.” He straightened. “I'll be upstairs if you need me.”

Reese blinked away her apathy and began to dial the number to the hospital. After five unbearable minutes she was finally put through to Lynnette's room.

The sound of Lynnette's groggy voice was like a soothing balm to her soul.

“Lynn, oh Lynn, I was so worried. How are you?”

“I feel like I've been hit by a car,” she said trying to make light of her circumstance. “But the doctor said I'll be fine,” she continued in a raspy voice. “I'll be here for at least two weeks. And don't you even think about coming out here,” she warned.

Reese breathed heavily in relief. At least she was all right. “What happened? How are you?”

In a slow, halting voice Lynn told Reese what had transpired and the extent of her injuries. “The one high point of this whole nasty business is that the doctor is gorgeous.” She tried to laugh, but it stuck in her throat when a shard of pain shot through her head.

Reese heard the sharp intake of breath. “Lynn! Lynn! What is it?”

“I'm…okay. It's just this damned headache.” She took a deep breath. “They gave me something for the pain. I guess it hasn't kicked in yet. It's just making me sleepy as all hell.”

Reese gave in to a shaky smile. “You sound like yourself,”
she sniffed, fighting back tears of relief. “So it can't be that bad.”

“That's what I keep tellin' myself,” she replied over a yawn. “I'm sorry I couldn't get the information you needed.”

Lynnette's statement brought to the forefront the real reason why she lay in a hospital bed. And the idea that she was the reason made her stomach knot in an unnamed fear. “I don't want you to worry about it. You just concentrate on getting well and out of there. And I promise you, all you have to do is say the word and I'll be on the next plane.” Her throat tightened as she tried to fight back her tears. Even at the risk of her own safety, she would go to Lynnette the moment she asked. Maxwell would just have to understand.

“Don't you dare,” she answered sleepily, dragging out her words. “Hmm, I think this…medicine…is finally beginning…to work.” She yawned.

“I'll call you the moment I get settled.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She took a long slumberous breath, and Reese thought she'd dose off until Lynn's groggy voice came back across the line. “I don't think this was an accident sister-friend and neither do you. We're both too smart for that.”

“Lynn I…”

“Don't worry about me, I'm in the best place I can be. But you, you be safe. Let that man of yours take care of you. Be safe, Reese,” she cautioned in her final moments of clarity before sleep took over.

“I will,” Reese promised on a thready whisper. “I will.”

 

In the darkness of their shared bedroom, Reese curled next to Maxwell seeking the security and comfort that seemed to be steadily eluding her. She was frightened. More terrified than she'd ever been, even in the deepest grips of her nightmares. Her life and her actions were being dictated by people who
would rather see her dead than let her get at the truth. They could even reach beyond her and hurt those close to her.

Sure, she could back off and turn her information over to the authorities, but she was never one to take the easy way out. And somewhere deep inside her soul, she knew that at the root of it all was the key to her past. Knowing that, she could never willingly hand over the pieces of her life for someone else to put together. She owed it to herself, and now she owed it to Lynnette.

“What are you thinking about?” Maxwell whispered in her ear. Gently, he stroked her hair in a rhythmic, soothing motion. His hands moved downward until they reached her neck. He began to unfurl the knots of tension that had found refuge in her neck and shoulders. Then he turned her on her stomach to afford her the greatest benefit of his ministrations.

Reese expelled an audible sigh of relief. “Everything,” she murmured. “What's happened and what's ahead.” She closed her eyes and propped her chin on her hands. “I just feel so helpless, like these unseen forces have taken control of my life. What's so ironic is that it seems to be the same circumstances that have dominated my life for the past fifteen years—the unknown—the dark corners. Just like I'm always primed for some hidden memory to spring to life, I'm primed for someone to take what little of me I have away.”

“That won't happen, Reese. I promise that. You're not in this alone. It's about me, too. Do you think for one minute that I don't have the same doubts and fears? I do, sweetheart, ever since this whole mess began. Believe that. But I'm not going to let it paralyze me. I can't and neither can you. We're going to get to the bottom of this—together, me and you.”

“I guess I just needed to hear you say that,” she whispered. She turned over, looked into his eyes and cupped his face in her palms. “Because…for the first time in my life…I truly need someone.” Her eyes misted over as they glided across
his face. “I need you, Max,” she uttered from the depths of her soul.

If he ever doubted her need for him, his doubts dissolved in her declaration and his heart filled with joy. “You have me, Reese. For as long as you want me.” He held her tighter and he'd never loved her more than at that moment.

Yet even in the comforting security of Maxwell's arms, Reese could not fight of the demons that haunted her sleep.