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Betrayal of Trust

Page 2

by Tracey V. Bateman


  If he’d said, “And may God help us all,” Bruce couldn’t have been more obviously biased. It was only too apparent that he had had high hopes for Matthew’s election to Senate. No matter how much she might agree, Raven couldn’t help but be a bit irritated with his transparency. Part of good reporting was remaining detached, keeping your opinion carefully masked behind the facts and nothing else. Perhaps it was simply that after so many years behind that desk, Bruce didn’t feel he had anything to hide—namely his opinion.

  With a sigh, Raven switched off the set as regular programming resumed. Tense silence reigned in the room and she knew her family was struggling not to ask the question. Finally, she could take the tension no more and she shot to her feet. “Okay, yes. It’s Matthew.”

  “Your Matthew?” Mac looked at her over half glasses.

  “Yes.” She rubbed her throbbing temple with the balls of her fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure. My Matthew. Regret for what might have been all those years ago shot through her. She hadn’t allowed herself second guesses. No regretting her decision. So why was her heart suddenly about to pound out of her chest?

  She could still see Matthew’s expression of bewilderment as she’d placed the diamond engagement ring into his palm and curled his fingers around the token. She’d walked away. Transferred to a different school. And that was the last time she’d spoken to him.

  Keri’s voice brought her back to the present. “Wow. I wonder what his folks think of him leaving the race. He was a surefire win for his party. Especially with his father dying last year. I don’t think Missouri is ready to live without a Strong representing us in Congress. What was Matthew thinking?”

  All eyes turned to Raven as though she should know the answer to the question. “How should I know? I haven’t seen or spoken with the guy since college.”

  Raven fingered the cell phone hooked to her waistband. She itched to phone Ken at the station and get the scoop. The press had to know more than they were reporting. No one pulled out of a race without giving some sort of an explanation—even a bogus one. Was there a gag order? She was tempted to make the call, but doing so now would betray her impatience to have this wedding over with so she could get on with her life. She’d been here two days as it was—long enough. Too long, actually, from the looks of things.

  Matthew! Couldn’t you have waited a few more days to do this idiotic thing?

  Fingering a loose thread on the arm of the couch, Raven considered the new development. What could have happened to make Matt give away the chance eventually to run for president? That was his dream, his goal, not only to follow in his old man’s footsteps, but actually to exceed his accomplishments. His family had groomed him for the White House. He’d had no other ambition except for marrying her. And other than the monkey wrench of a broken engagement, his plan was failsafe—undergrad, law school, interning under an incumbent senator, eventually running for senator himself and serving his constituents until it was time to run for president. Raven was supposed to have helped him decide when the time came. They would have been in their late forties, probably, by the time he was seasoned enough and ready to win the White House. And she’d had no doubt that with or without her he would someday be the president of the United States.

  Now what would he do? Return to his law practice? Given his fame, that might be difficult.

  She clenched her fist to keep from snatching the phone from its holder. If she could just get back to work, she could figure all this out.

  “No way, Rave. You are not wimping out on my wedding, so you can just forget it. I don’t care how big the story is. My wedding is more important. And you’re not ruining it by leaving me one bridesmaid short.”

  Jerked from her thoughts by Denni’s firm statement, Raven mustered up her most indignant and wrongfully accused expression. “I can’t believe you think I would consider leaving before the wedding.”

  Denni rolled her eyes. “Pul-ease. I recognize that ‘get me out of here before I suffocate’ look. You’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of my wedding so you can go back to Kansas City today—and don’t bother to deny it.”

  Heat crept to Raven’s cheeks. “All right. You have me. It crossed my mind for a second. But that’s all—and not really seriously.”

  Denni’s responding scowl increased Raven’s shame. She hated feeling guilty and it seemed like she always felt guilty around her family. They expected too much. More than she could give. She knew she was a terrible sister, a terrible daughter. Her gaze focused past her sister to Mac Mahoney. The gruff, but tender retired Irish cop who had raised her, loved her, taught her never to settle for second best at anything in her life.

  He looked up from studying the TV listings and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

  Raven fought to hold back tears of melancholy.

  She might feel like a terrible daughter, but then, she wasn’t really his daughter at all, was she?

  The door to the sleek black Lincoln closed behind Matt amid the flashing of cameras and a myriad of questions thrown at him from determined reporters hoping he’d actually answer one. But they didn’t understand. His public image didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing did at this point: keeping Jamie out of the line of fire perpetuated by a biological father with ulterior motives. No telling how far that man might go to extort money from the family. He’d never get custody of Jamie, but he could drag them all through the mud. And that wasn’t something Matt was willing to chance. He’d sacrificed everything to ensure it.

  “That’s that,” he said into the airspace between the front and back seats. The driver gave him a quick glance in the rearview mirror and then returned his attention to the road as he realized Matt wasn’t speaking to him.

  Exhausted, Matt slouched back against the leather seat and pulled at his silk tie, loosening its stranglehold around his neck. A tangle of frustration, disappointment, anger, all rolled into a lead ball in his stomach, nauseating him.

  Leaning his head back against the seat, he closed his burning eyes. He refused tears. Refused to regret his decision. It was the only choice he could have made. The right choice.

  Still, he had to wonder how a life that had been so carefully planned could have ended up so off-course. By now he should have been married with two or three kids of his own, should be six weeks away from accepting his party’s nomination for Senate, and only a few months from the next step in his destiny: Capitol Hill, the springboard to the Oval Office.

  Backtracking in his mind, he could see that everything started going sour the day Raven Mahoney returned to school after attending her mother’s funeral. He should have gone with her to her hometown of Briarwood, Missouri, in the first place, but she’d insisted it was something she had to do on her own. Her stubbornness was never more evident than when she was trying to prove she didn’t need anyone to lean on. He scowled.

  He’d watched her career evolve through the years as a reporter and weekend anchor for Channel 23. She grew more beautiful by the day, it seemed. His throat tightened with longing. No matter how many women he’d dated over the years, he couldn’t get Raven out of his mind. No one measured up, and any relationship he entered into ended within months.

  He clenched his fists, still able to feel the prick of the diamond against the soft flesh of his palm when she’d broken their engagement. Maybe it would have been easier to accept…easier to move on…if only she’d told him why.

  For the first time in his life, he’d been helpless to achieve his goal. Never had he felt such pain as when he watched Raven walk away from him. He’d hoped she’d glance back, knowing if she did, he could go after her and bring her back to him. But she squared her shoulders, kept her head erect, and never so much as slowed her steps as she walked out of sight.

  When he’d spotted her on the local news, it had been all he could do to refrain from picking up the phone. But she’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t the man for her. So he left her alone, but found himself watching her l
eft hand for signs she might be engaged or married. So far, so good.

  “Do you want to go in through the main gate, Mr. Strong? Or should I keep going?”

  Matthew glanced at his driver, and then out the window. The gate in front of his family home was thick with reporters. “No. Drive on by. We’ll circle for a while. Maybe they’ll get tired and go away. If not, I’ll stay at a hotel.”

  They drove the streets of Kansas City until dark, stopping only once at a drive-through. The greasy burger and fries sat heavily in Matthew’s stomach as he tried to pray for wisdom. Peace. How long would it take for all of this to blow over and for the media to lose interest? Not soon enough for his comfort. In the meantime, how would he keep his sister and Jamie away from public scrutiny?

  Chapter Two

  Raven closed the back driver’s-side door of her red SUV and searched the wad of keys in her hand for the one to the ignition. She glanced at her glowing digital watch with grim satisfaction. Ten minutes after midnight. At this time of night, traffic would be practically nonexistent. She’d be home in four hours.

  “I still think you should wait until morning.”

  Forcing a smile, she turned to Mac. “I’m wide awake. And this way I’ll miss daytime traffic.”

  Mac sighed and shrugged. “I don’t suppose I can force you to do as I say anymore. But be careful and call me as soon as you get to your house—no matter the time. I won’t sleep until you’re home safe and sound anyway. Lock your doors and don’t stop for anyone. Not even flashing red lights. Never know if some sicko bought a strobe light just to fool pretty girls.”

  “I promise,” Raven said around a sudden lump in her throat. It felt nice to have someone concerned about her.

  As if sensing her mood, Mac opened his arms. She hesitated only a second before surrendering to his familiar embrace.

  “I love you, Raven, my sweet girl. You will meet us at the cabin for the fall barbecue, right?”

  “I’ll try, Dad. Just depends on how busy I am at work.”

  “Well, you’ve got three months to think about it. And make plans.”

  Raven pulled out of his arms and opened the driver’s-side door. She rolled down the window as Mac stepped up for a final goodbye.

  “I don’t mean to push you, honey. I just miss my girl, that’s all. It’s like pulling teeth to get you home for a visit.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But I’m a busy career woman. When you’re married to your job, it takes a lot of TLC to keep the relationship alive.” She forced a grin in an attempt to lighten the situation.

  Mac looked at her with sad eyes. Another sigh escaped his lips. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead through the open window. “I just can’t help but think there’s more to it than just your work.”

  “Like what?” Raven asked, shrugging with a nonchalance she hoped he interpreted as her way of saying he was being silly to even think there was a problem.

  “I don’t know, honey. You tell me.”

  Raven kissed his cheek and then fired up the SUV. “You’re just being paranoid, Dad. Nothing’s wrong except that that ten-year-old, Kellie Cruise, is about to sashay in and get my job if I can’t talk Matt into an exclusive interview.”

  A scowl marred his features, but his eyes gentled with acceptance. Raven knew he was letting her go without more argument, advice or admonishment. And she appreciated the gesture. He patted her cheek, then walked around to the sidewalk where he stood with his hands inside his pockets.

  A blue economy car whizzed by just as she started to pull away from the curb. She slammed on her brakes to avoid getting sideswiped. “Nice driving, buddy!” she hollered after the retreating car.

  “Great way to start the trip,” she grumbled.

  As she drove away, Raven glanced in the rearview mirror. The streetlight illuminated Mac’s position. He stared after her, his shoulders slumped. A twinge of dismay stung her heart and she gripped the steering wheel until her fingers ached. They would eventually have to talk, but not today. First she had to deal with Matt. Seeing his face plastered across the screen and hearing his strong, deep voice make his announcement had filled her with a sense of what might have been between them. And along with nostalgia, the pain of Mom’s funeral had crested once more on a tide of buried memories.

  How different might her life have been if that drunk driver hadn’t plowed into Mom’s car, killing her instantly? For one thing, Raven wouldn’t have discovered the truth about her paternity. Life would have continued as it was projected to go. Marriage to Matthew. Two-point-five kids. Ignorance would have been bliss. Knowledge had darkened the bright light of hope for the future—a future with Matthew. Everything had changed.

  Releasing a sigh, she pressed the accelerator with her toe and the SUV picked up speed, heading north on US 63.

  Her eyelids grew heavy an hour later listening to Frank Sinatra’s silky-smooth crooning, and she stopped at a twenty-four-hour quick stop along the highway to grab a cup of coffee. She grimaced. The black brew smelled as if it had probably been sitting there since the afternoon before. The clerk gave her a guilty look and pronounced it “no charge.”

  A blast of sultry summer air lifted strands of Raven’s sleek black hair off her neck as she exited the convenience store. A motor revved to her left and she turned in time to see a familiar blue car drive away from the parking lot. Familiar from where?

  Visions of the back of that car haunted her, keeping her mind busy while she drove the rest of the way to Kansas City. She pulled into her drive and dialed her dad—per his express instructions, no matter what time she arrived—to let him know she’d made it safely to her door.

  Her mind went back to the car that had sped by as she was about to pull away from Denni’s curb. So that’s where she remembered a blue car from. Both small, blue and square. She grinned and shook her head. That was a weird coincidence. Nothing more. Probably wasn’t even the same car. Some reporter she was.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said when he picked up. “Just letting you know I’m home safely, so you can go to bed now and try to sleep.”

  “Praise the Lord.” She could hear the note of relief in his voice. But there was a weariness that she’d noticed lately that concerned her.

  “Dad, you feeling okay? When was the last time you checked your blood pressure?”

  “I’m just fine, young lady. Don’t start sounding like Ruthie.”

  Raven bristled. The last person she sounded like was Dad’s Southern belle of a fiancée. The mention of the woman’s name conjured the flamboyant red hair piled atop her head like Flo from the eighties sitcom, Alice. The too-cheerful-to-be-real demeanor. The knowledge that Mac could be in love with this type of woman after loving Raven’s mother, a classic beauty with more creativity and style in her little toe than Ruth had in her whole body was just too irritating.

  “Well, I’ll let you go, Dad. Get some rest, okay?”

  “You too, hon.”

  Raven disconnected the call. By the time she’d unloaded her bag, gone inside and showered, dawn was just beginning to glisten over the enormous oak tree in her backyard.

  She sat on her deck, wearing a white terry-cloth robe and sipping a mug of strong, black coffee. By 6:00 a.m., she could restrain herself no longer. She snatched up her phone and dialed Ken, her camera guy and the one person she knew would be straight with her. His grumbled, sleepy “Hello” didn’t faze her. He’d interrupted her sleep plenty of times.

  “Ken, what’s going on with the Matthew Strong story?”

  “Raven?”

  “Who else?” Impatience edged her voice, but after two days of no inside info after finding out about Matt, she’d had all the delays she was going to take. “Matthew Strong?”

  For the next few seconds all she heard was the rustling of sheets and the hiss of a lighter as presumably, the grizzled, old-before-his-time, forty-five-year-old sat up in bed and lit a cigarette.

  “Those things will kill you, Ken. You need to quit smok
ing.”

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Fine. They’re your lungs.”

  “You got that right.”

  Raven shifted in her seat, stifling a yawn. “Tell me about Matt.”

  “Matt, is it?”

  Despite the fact that Ken couldn’t see her, Raven felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. “We had a thing once a long time ago.”

  “What kind of thing?” he asked in his I-smell-a-story tone of voice.

  “The kind that’s none of your business.”

  “Touché, but is it perhaps the kind of ‘thing’ we might be able to use to get access to the almost-senator?”

  An uneasy twist affected Raven’s stomach and suddenly the coffee didn’t sit well. “Just meet me at Corner Coffee, will you? We need to talk and map out a strategy.”

  “All right, girl. But let me tell you, I’m not wasting my time on personal ethics. If you got an inside to this guy, you better use it or I might take the sweet Miss Kellie up on her tempting offer.”

  “You’re old enough to be her dad.”

  “Yeah, well. Ain’t that the kicker? I’m not her dad and she seems to go for my natural maturity. And she likes the way our names go together. Thinks it’s downright cute. Kellie and Ken. It does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  Raven gave a snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, pops. She wants to break up the wonder twins, and that’s all there is to her sudden attraction.”

  It was common knowledge around the station, and had been for the past several years, that Ken and Raven were an unstoppable team. Thanks to Raven’s instincts for where the great story was, they rarely failed to bring it home, and thanks to Ken’s hot ability with a camera, they ended up with unbelievably good shots of whomever they were after. The dream team.

 

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