Distrust

by Lisa Jackson

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  Trevor shook his head. “He has a key. He just rings the bell to warn me—”

  “Why?”

  A sly smile slanted across Trevor’s handsome face and he trailed a familiar finger along the curve of her jaw. “Just in case I’m in bed with a beautiful woman.”

  “Give me a break.”

  “I’ll give you more than that.” His dark eyes penetrated the sadness in her gaze. “Buck up,” he suggested, squeezing her shoulders fondly. She felt the strength and determination of his character in his touch. “We’ll rise above all this political dirt.”

  “I don’t see how.” As far as Ashley was concerned, everything she’d hoped for, especially a future with Trevor, was slipping away from her. “Maybe you should tell me everything. Trevor, I know that something’s bothering you—”

  Everett Woodward stormed into the den in a rage. His face was puckered into a belligerent scowl that darkened when he saw Ashley. He tossed his briefcase and a copy of the Morning Surveyor onto the couch before glaring pointedly at Trevor.

  “Well, that’s it—the ball game,” Everett announced without the civility of a greeting. “All that work and effort right down the proverbial drain.”

  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Trevor interposed with a bitter smile.

  “Overreacting? Overreacting!” Everett retorted, his round face going beet red. “For God’s sake, man, your career is on the line here, and you have the audacity to suggest that I’m—”

  “Jumping off the deep end.”

  Everett let out a long, bewildered breath. “What’re you doing here?” he asked Ashley when he turned his attention away from Trevor and trained his furious light eyes on her. “Was this Claud’s idea, too?”

  “That’s enough, Everett,” Trevor warned. “Ashley’s staying here.” There was a fierceness in Trevor’s voice that made Ashley shudder. His fingers, which had touched her lightly on the shoulder, gripped her more savagely, as if in proof of his possession.

  “You’re joking!”

  “Not at all. We’re going to get married as soon as possible.”

  “Not on your life! You can’t; not now! The press will have a field day with the both of you,” Everett exclaimed, stunned, his eyes widening behind thick glasses. He took hold of Trevor’s sleeve and looked into the candidate’s eyes. “Not now, Trevor. You can’t associate with Ashley or anyone else at Stephens Timber without looking like a hypocrite. You’ve already lost points in the most recent polls. All those rumors about withdrawing from the race really hurt you, and now this.” He pointed an outraged, shaking finger at the condemning newspaper on the couch. “The last thing you can do right now is announce an engagement to the president of Stephens Timber, for Christ’s sake!”

  “I said we’re going to get married.”

  Everett was thinking fast when he turned pleading eyes upon Ashley. “Can’t you talk some sense into him? What would waiting another year hurt? The campaign would be over—he’d be comfortable in Washington. You could get married then.”

  “Forget it, Everett. I’ve made my decision.” Trevor’s voice was firm; his determination was registered in the tight muscles surrounding his mouth.

  “Oh, Lord,” Everett said with a sigh. He sunk into the soft cushions of the couch before swearing roundly. “I need a drink.”

  “It’s only ten in the morning—”

  “Make it a double.”

  Trevor smiled at the campaign manager’s pale complexion. “How about champagne? To celebrate?”

  “Scotch.”

  Trevor laughed aloud and poured the portly man a stiff drink. Everett accepted it gratefully, took a long swallow and sighed audibly. “I don’t suppose you’ll name your first child after me, will you?” He raised his sheepish eyes in Ashley’s direction.

  “We’ll see,” she said with a smile, relieved that the tense confrontation had abated.

  “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Everett asked Trevor.

  Trevor cast a meaningful smile at Ashley. “More serious than I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Even if it means losing the election?”

  “No matter what.”

  Again Everett let out a defeated sigh. “Well, just for the record, I think this is political suicide. You’re going to alienate every voter in this state. And if you think today’s article was bad, just you wait. The press will cut you to ribbons and make today’s story seem like a piece of cake.

  “Just for once, it would be nice if you would do things the conventional way.” He looked at Trevor’s thick, unruly hair, the faded jeans and the cotton shirt with the rolled-up sleeves. “But then you never do, do you?”

  Trevor crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at his campaign manager and friend. “Do you want to resign?”

  Everett weighed the decision. “No. At least not yet, unless you’d rather have someone else.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Trevor forced a smile that was as charming as it was self-effacing. “Who else would put up with me?”

  “No one in his right mind.”

  “Good.” Trevor clasped Everett’s hand. “Then everything’s settled.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Everett wiped the accumulation of sweat that beaded his balding head. “Oh, hell. Let’s go over campaign strategy, what little there is left of it.”

  The two men discussed politics on the leather couch in the study while Ashley poured them each a cup of coffee. After she had placed the cups on the scarred oak table, Trevor took hold of her wrist and forced her to sit next to him before asking her opinion on several issues.

  Never one to withhold her opinions, Ashley pointed out what she considered flaws in the campaign, and even Everett had to grudgingly agree with some of her opinions. More than once, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Everett silently nodding encouragement to her, while she explained her feelings regarding Trevor’s campaign and the issues.

  Trevor smiled at her continually and attacked Everett’s arguments calmly. He explained that he wasn’t against the timber industry as a whole. How could he be? Daniels Logging Company was a part of his heritage. He only objected to some of the shady business practices of a few of the companies, a prime example being Stephens Timber.

  “I still think you should wait to announce your engagement,” Everett offered, a hopeful light showing in his eyes. “At least until after the primary. Once you’re the party’s candidate—”

  “No dice.”

  “But with this article and all, it might look as if you’re buckling under to bad press.”

  “I don’t care how it looks.”

  “All right, all right,” the campaign manager said in utter defeat. “Have it your way—you always do anyway.” He snapped his briefcase closed and sighed. The round man left the house shaking his balding head.

  “Maybe you should listen to him,” Ashley suggested, once Everett had driven away and Trevor had closed the door to take her into his arms.

  “Why start now?”

  “I’m serious—”

  “So am I.” They were standing in the foyer of the large house. Thin shafts of wintry sunlight pierced through the long windows on either side of the door. The strong arms around her tightened.

  “Look, lady, you’re not weaseling out of this marriage no matter how hard you try.”

  “But your career—”

  “Can go to hell if it means I have to knuckle under to the Claud Stephenses of the world. I’m sick and tired of worrying about how anything I do will reflect on my political image. I like to think that I learn from my mistakes, and I’m not about to repeat them. You’re going to be my wife come hell or high water!”

  “As if I don’t have any say in the matter.”

  “You said plenty last night,” he reminded her, kissing her tenderly on the lips. A warm rush of desire began to flow through her.

  Ashley smiled and shook her head. Be
ing in Trevor’s arms made concentration on anything but his exciting touch impossible. “So what are we going to do about Claud?”

  The smile that spread slowly across Trevor’s face was positively sinful. He reached behind her and grabbed two coats from the curved spokes of the brass hall tree. After helping her with her down-filled garment, he slid his arms into a denim jacket.

  “I doubt that we’ll have to worry about Claud much longer,” Trevor stated cryptically as he led her out of the front door and draped his arm over her shoulders.

  “What have you done?”

  “Something I should have done about six months ago. I hired a private investigator.” They walked along a brick path leading around the great house toward the river. “He’s been on the case for about a month, I guess.”

  “And that’s who you were talking to last night,” Ashley suddenly realized. Perhaps now he would explain everything and drive away the lingering doubts in her mind.

  “Right.” Trevor winked broadly. “With what this guy has found out on his own and the evidence you and John Ellis supplied, I think we’ll have enough proof of Claud’s illegal activities to lock him up for a while.”

  “If he doesn’t get to you first.”

  “I’m not too worried about that.” Taking her chilled hand in his, he led her to the banks of the silvery Willamette. The wind on the water was brisk, causing whitecaps to swell on the swiftly flowing current. Trevor leaned against the trunk of a barren maple tree and placed his arms securely around her waist. She leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body surrounding hers while the chill winter wind blew against her face.

  “This isn’t going to be easy for you, you know,” he suggested. “Claud will make it rough. How will you feel if you have to testify against him?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to wait and see how involved he is.”

  “Oh, he’s involved all right. Right up to his scrawny mustache.”

  Ashley closed her eyes and fought against any feelings of sympathy she might harbor for her cousin. “You know there’s no love lost between us. I swear that he wanted to kill me when he found out that Dad hadn’t disinherited me as the rest of the family had thought. I was hoping that he would learn to live with the fact that I own the majority of shares of the corporation, but . . .” She sighed and shrugged her slim shoulders. “I doubt if he’ll ever really accept that I’m his boss. It’s hard for him, but that’s no excuse for what he’s put you through. I just kept him on the payroll because the company needed his expertise and because I wasn’t sure that he had done everything you thought.... Now I know differently.”

  She felt the strain in Trevor’s body and his arms circled her as if to protect her from all the evil and injustice in the world. Once again she had the feeling that there was something bothering him, a secret he was afraid to divulge. His cold lips brushed against the crook of her neck. “I think that you should leave,” he cautioned.

  The words hit her with the force of an arctic gale. Hadn’t he just insisted that she marry him? “Leave—to go where?”

  “Maybe you should go out of town, just for a couple of days. Until I get some things ironed out.”

  “But why?”

  “Because the press is going to be all over me. And you. Everett wasn’t kidding when he said that they’ll put us through hell once they find out that we’re going to get married. And when the story about Claud breaks—I doubt if either of us will have a minute’s peace.” He let out a weary gust of breath that misted in the frigid morning air. “As a matter of fact, I’ll bet we get more than our share of visitors this afternoon. Everett said that several reporters had already tried to contact me at campaign headquarters. It’s just a matter of time before they show up here.”

  “That may be true, but I’m not leaving,” Ashley decided with a proud toss of her head.

  “Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?” Was there a thread of desperation in his words?

  “And that’s why I’m staying.” She turned to face him and held his square jaw between her hands. “I’m tired of running from everything, including the truth. If I’m going to marry you, and you can be sure that I am, then I’d better get used to the occupational hazards of being a senator’s wife.”

  “If I win.”

  “When you win.”

  A slow-spreading smile creeped over Trevor’s handsome features and the sun seemed to radiate from the midnight blue of his eyes. “You’re an incredible woman,” he whispered, his throat feeling uncomfortably swollen. “And I don’t want to do anything that would put you in jeopardy. I can’t lose you, not again.”

  “You won’t. Hey, I’ve seen my share of bad press,” Ashley stated, thinking of all of the gossip surrounding her father and the family business, “and I think I can handle whatever they dish out.”

  “I can’t talk you into leaving, just for a couple of days?”

  “It would be a waste of your breath and my time.”

  “So you intend to stay.”

  “Forever,” she said with a sigh as his arms crushed her against him.

  Trevor pressed his lips against her black hair. “You may as well know that I’m not into long engagements.”

  “Neither am I.” She clung to him and listened to the steady, comforting beat of his heart, knowing she could face anything the future had to offer, as long as she was with the man she loved.

  “Then, next month. Or sooner.”

  She smiled against the coarse denim of his jacket. “We have plenty of time,” she whispered as tears of happiness pooled in her eyes.

  * * *

  Two hours later, after breakfast, the first reporter called. Trevor took the call, declined an interview, referred the reporter to Everett Woodward and slammed down the receiver.

  “Well, it’s started,” he said, his piercing blue eyes holding her gaze. “If you want out, you better make a hasty exit.”

  “Not on your life.”

  Quickly she called Mrs. Deveraux to explain the situation, in case any reporters started looking for her. The fussy old woman burst into tears of happiness when Ashley mentioned that she and Trevor were going to be married.

  “And here I was worried about you,” Francine exclaimed, clucking her tongue. “I should have guessed that you never got over that man.”

  “It’s not quite like it appears in the papers,” Ashley stated, hoping to start rectifying the damage to her reputation that the Morning Surveyor had wrought.

  “Of course it isn’t. Who would believe a story like that?” Francine asked indignantly.

  “No one, I hope. Look, I’ll come back to the house later in the day and pick up a few of my things.”

  “Good. Then you can tell me all about it. Oh, I almost forgot,” the housekeeper stated as an afterthought. “Your cousin has been calling this morning—”

  “Claud?” Ashley asked, and Trevor, overhearing the name, whirled to face her. Every muscle on his face was pulled taut.

  “He needs to talk to you.”

  “Isn’t he still in Seattle?”

  “Oh, no. He got back into town sometime last night, I think.” Ashley was sure that Claud wasn’t due back into town until the day after next, and from the deadly look in Trevor’s eyes she felt instant dread.

  “Did you tell him where I was?”

  “Oh, no. I explained that you had gone shopping for the day and that I would give you his message.”

  “How did he take the news?”

  “As usual. Not well.”

  “So things are normal,” Ashley thought aloud, though the darkness in Trevor’s eyes warned her that just the opposite was true. “I’ll see you later.”

  After Ashley hung up, Trevor switched on the answering machine and began to pace from room to room like a caged animal, alternately surveying the telephone as if in indecision and then looking carefully out the windows to the long, asphalt drive.

  “I take it that Claud’s
back in town,” Trevor said, his hands pushing impatiently through his coarse hair.

  “He’s looking for me.”

  Trevor stopped midstride. “Damn! I knew I couldn’t trust that bastard!”

  Ashley put a hand on Trevor’s forearm and found the muscles rigid. “What’s going on?”

  The telephone rang and the recorder automatically took the call. “You know, it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that Claud called all the papers in town,” Trevor remarked with an undertone of vengeance.

  “You can’t blame him for everything,” Ashley replied with a frown.

  Trevor took her hand and led her to the couch in the study. “I think it’s about time you knew what we’re up against,” he said with obvious regret. “Pete Young, the private investigator I hired, looked into several things: the accident with my car, the bribery charges and—”

  “Your father’s disappearance,” Ashley guessed with a shudder.

  “Right. Now that the press is involved, it could get very unpleasant.”

  She smiled despite the dread inching up her spine. “I know.” Settling into the corner cushions, Ashiey tucked her feet beneath her and stared up at Trevor as he paced the floor.

  “When I talked to Pete last night, he was sure that he had enough evidence to prove that Claud had paid to have my car tampered with. He found someone at the garage where my car was serviced who was willing to talk, for a small fee.”

  “So Claud paid off a mechanic to tamper with your car.” Ashley felt sick inside, as if a part of her were slowly dying. She had thought her cousin capable of deceit, and bribery perhaps, but something this cold-blooded and cruel was beyond those bounds. “Dear God,” she whispered, turning cold inside.

  The corners around Trevor’s mouth pulled downward. “According to Everett, Pete also thinks that Claud planted the story in the paper.”

  “But the reporter talked to me,” Ashley offered tonelessly. Why was she even trying to defend her cousin?

  “Because somehow he knew that you would be there, or maybe it was just a lucky guess on his part. It doesn’t matter. I’ll bet that Claud was involved.”