Rulers of Deception (18 page)

Madison’s eyebrows rose as she cast a look at her brother. “I’m still shocked you forgave him. If it had been me—”

“Yeah, well you forgave Raoul, didn’t you?” Linc fired back, bitterness hardening his eyes. “Greg’s like a brother to me. I couldn’t just let a woman get between us like this.”

Madison pursed her lips, unimpressed. “He did.”

Before Linc could argue with her, Grant stepped in. “Stop it. You’re both letting this go further than it needs to. Until we hear more, we need to put it out of our minds.”

“Like you were doing when we walked in?” A dark smile tightened Madison’s face.

Grant frowned, conceding her point. “It goes for me, too.”

There was another knock on the door. This time it was Grant’s new secretary, a petite, mousy brunette with doe eyes and a quiet smile. She walked in, carrying a stack of mail. “These just came in.”

Grant accepted the mail and murmured “thank you” as he began absently sifting through the pile. At the bottom was an oversized envelope with no return address. Madison and Linc both eyed it curiously as he set the rest of the mail aside.

“No return address?” Madison’s heart sank. Memories of receiving letters just like that flashed in her mind.

“No.” Grant turned the envelope over, inspecting it.

“Well, unless it’s anthrax or something you might as well open it. They haven’t figured out how to put bombs in letters yet, right?” Linc leapt to his feet and approached them, suspicion in his eyes.

“I don’t think so,” Grant murmured. He reached for his letter opener and sliced open the envelope, pulling out the contents. What he found were three photographs and a single sheet of plain white paper with typewritten words on it.

He inspected the photographs first, brows furrowing. “They’re pictures of Quinn.”

Madison leaned over to get a better look. “Where was that taken?”

“No idea.” Grant shuffled through all three images, each one showing Quinn standing outside a building somewhere in the city. The third showed her going inside.

Impatient, Linc grabbed the letter out of Grant’s hand and began to read it. After a moment, his mouth fell open stupidly. “What the—”

Grant attempted to retrieve it but Linc dodged out of the way, shaking his head. “No. You can’t read this.”

“It was addressed to me,” Grant pointed out flatly, dread making a tangled mess of his insides. “Give it to me.”

Madison stared at Linc incredulously. “What does it say?”

Linc considered tearing the letter into little pieces just to save his brother from the pain he knew it was about to inflict. But he knew better than to think it would fix anything. If what the letter said was true then all hell was about to break loose. And he’d be first in line to start the fire.

“It says the building is a women’s clinic on 70
^th
. According to this, she went there to terminate a pregnancy. There’s a record number and everything.”

Grant froze, processing his brother’s words even as denial reared up in his wife’s defense. Before he could think of what to say, Madison ripped the letter out of Linc’s hands and examined it for herself. Her face was an ice-cold mask as she read, but as she got to the bottom Grant saw a rage darker than any he’d ever seen contort her features. He knew then that Linc was telling the truth.

His legs shook beneath him, prompting him to sit on the edge of his desk. He stared at the photographs again, of her looking around nervously before entering the nondescript door of the clinic.

“It gets worse, darling. I’m not going to sugar-coat this for you,” Madison began, coldness hardening her to the very core. “The letter threatens to go public with the information. If it gets out that the wife of a Vasser heir had a clinic abortion, do you know what that will do? They’ll say she was having an affair, that the baby wasn’t yours. That she knew she had to get rid of it discreetly or else you’d divorce her and she’d lose everything.”

Linc’s jaw tightened as he rounded on her, his heart ablaze with protective fury. “You’re not helping, Mads. He’s lost his fucking kid for God’s sake!”

She glared at him, fighting desperately to maintain a level head. “You think I don’t realize that? We’ve all lost something here.”

Grant said nothing while they bickered, their voices lost in the sound of mindless buzzing in his ears. His entire body felt numb as he hovered in silence, still trying to work through all the facts in his head. It wasn’t until it dawned on him what her being pregnant meant that he felt the first, stabbing pain slash through his body. His baby. Their baby.

“I’m going downstairs to talk to her,” Madison declared, swiping the photographs out of Grant’s hands.

“I’ll go with you,” Linc offered, only to freeze when Grant spoke in a dangerously low voice.

“No.” He struggled to maintain control as he glared at his siblings. “I will speak with her in private tonight.”

For the first time since reading the letter, Madison felt sympathy flood in to smother her rage. The shattered look in her brother’s eyes made her realize his pain, made her understand just how mortified he must feel. Without a word, she wrapped her arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. Linc followed suit and placed his hand on his brother’s other shoulder, offering his support and strength.

“Maybe it’s all a hoax. You never know,” Linc suggested, temper properly deflated. He didn’t know what else to say.

Grant nodded. “I’ll know when I ask her.”

Lynette arrived at
Linc’s office to find it empty. Assuming he must be upstairs with his siblings, she turned around only to see him charging down the hallway toward her. His careless waves of chestnut hair were in disarray, his blue eyes aflame. The restless energy emanating off of him gave him the appearance of a furious angel bent on vindication.

When they met eyes she watched him falter, startled by her presence. Pain immediately chased away some of his anger.

Panic hit her first, fearing the worst. “What happened?”

He only shook his head as he approached her, unsure if he could put into words what he was feeling. Unsure if he could even handle talking about it without punching a hole straight through the wall.

“Linc?”

Mouth set in a grim line, he shot a look over his shoulder to ensure they were alone before ushering her into his office. Shutting the door, he eased her into a chair and began to pace.

After a few minutes of strained silence, he finally spoke. “Did you know Quinn was pregnant?”

Surprise brightened Lynette’s face, her lips parting. “Well, yes. I do. Why?”

Linc stopped pacing and glared at her, for the first time his anger directed her way. “Did she tell you she was going to get rid of it?”

Horrified, Lynette shook her head. “Of course not. She would never—”

“Well, apparently she did,” Linc spat, hands diving into his hair. He held his head and shut his eyes, trying to keep the rage down. Trying not to take it out on Lynette.

“Linc, you’re wrong. Quinn was happy about the baby. She wouldn’t do this,” Lynette defended, shaking her head. “Wherever you got this information from, it’s a lie.”

Linc sighed, desperately wanting to believe her. “Grant won’t let me say anything to her. But, damnit, if this is true…”

“It’s not.” Lynette rose to her feet, urging him to face her. Her hands found his shoulders and held on firm. “Where did you hear this awful rumor?”

“A letter.”

“From who?”

“We don’t know.” Linc grimaced. “Someone sent Grant pictures of her going into a clinic and a medical record number. I haven’t checked it out yet but the pictures don’t lie.”

Lynette paled, but tried to hold on to reason. “Are the images time-stamped? Because when I talked to her the other day she said nothing about terminating the pregnancy.”

“I don’t know. I hate doubting her, I do. But I gotta stand up for my brother on this.”

“I know.” She touched his face, her heart aching. “But give her the chance to explain first, just in case this anonymous letter-sender is lying. Which you and I both know is a big possibility.”

He pulled her close and held her, eyes closing and the worst of his rage quieting to a simmer. His wife was right. He needed to hear Quinn’s side.

“You and your fairness,” he joked, sliding his hand through her hair.

She managed a laugh. “We Libras value nothing more.”

He said nothing for a few moments, then spoke in a quiet, pained voice. “If you get pregnant, there’s no question, Lynette. I want the baby.”

Lynette stiffened. “I can’t get pregnant right now. It would ruin my career. You understand that, don’t you?”

He nodded, but she could tell he wasn’t one hundred percent happy about the idea. “Just don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

With a quiet sigh, she buried her face into his neck and held him closer. “I won’t. I promise.”

The ride home
stretched on forever. Grant stared out the window at the setting sun, tension a coiled-up snake inside of him. If he let it spring free it would leave a mangled wreck of ruin in its wake.

As the car pulled up to his home, he hopped out ahead of his driver and, without a word, charged up the steps to his front door. They seemed to grow longer, each step a concentrated effort to bring him closer to the truth. Closer to his own fate.

He fumbled for his keys, managing in a daze to locate the right one and open the door. He pushed inside and paused, listening for the telltale signs of her within his home.

There was nothing but silence. Fear gripped him as he stumbled into the kitchen, then the living room, seeing no sign of his wife. Dread that she had left him raced through his veins as he shoved open the door of their darkened bedroom, expecting to see empty dresser drawers and no trace of her.

Instead, he saw the shape of her lying in bed, curled up beneath the covers with one arm over Mickey. The dog lay sound asleep beside her, quietly snoring. He could hear Quinn’s soft breathing and the sound of it brought him out of his daze.

Settling onto the side of the bed, he fought back the urge to touch her and simply watched for a moment. She looked so helpless, so innocent, making it desperately hard to hold onto his anger. In his hands he clutched the envelope, wishing more than anything he didn’t have to wake her and destroy the tranquil peace she enjoyed.

“Quinn.” He pulled Mickey away from her, which brought her out of her sleep. Mickey licked his hand as he set him on the floor. “Wake up.”

Quinn stretched her arms over her head and groaned. “Hey. What time is it?”

“Nearly seven o’clock.” He rose to his feet, not wanting to give her the chance to reach for him. “We need to talk. Come into the kitchen.”

She opened her eyes, seeing him silhouetted in the dim light of the room. Worry at the coldness of his tone had her sitting up and rubbing her face. “Okay. Give me a second. I was so tired for some reason. I conked out right after I got home.”

“I’ll put on coffee.” He left the room, unable to look at her any longer. Setting the envelope on the counter in the kitchen, he began to brew a pot of coffee. They’d both need it for the conversation they were about to have.

Minutes later Quinn wandered in, body wrapped in a fluffy, peacock blue robe and her mass of dark curls in disarray atop her head. She attempted a smile, but hesitated when he didn’t return it.