Trace of Doubt

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Trace of Doubt Page 29

by DiAnn Mills


  “I make allowances for your learning curve.” Marissa slipped the ring onto a right finger and admired it. “A little big, but that’s an easy fix.” She nodded at Aria. “Sit down so the three of us can talk.”

  Aria sat across from her mother. “All right, I’ll listen. Mom, I thought you were in Phoenix.”

  “I changed my mind. The truth is, I’m in a position to provide anything you might want. But in order for you to benefit from my generosity, I require your respect and obedience.”

  Aria took a deep breath. “I’m listening.”

  Good girl, play the part.

  “I’ve found a boarding school in London. Exclusive. You’ll have the finest education. Clothes. Jewelry. Vacations.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had money?”

  “My secret.”

  Aria bit her lip. “I have so many questions, Mom.”

  “First of all, call me by my first name. From this moment on, no one is to find out I have a daughter. The paperwork is completed for a last name change to Pearce.”

  “What’s your job?” Aria said. “Your clothes and makeup aren’t from Walmart.”

  “I own my own business, a lucrative one.”

  Aria leaned forward. “Which is?”

  “Again, my secret.”

  “So it’s illegal?”

  Marissa raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

  “What if I refuse and want to live with Granddad?”

  “Shelby has witnessed what happens when I’m displeased. Anger me, and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  “Why am I here?”

  Marissa uttered an expletive. “Last question. You’re with me as a guarantee Shelby follows my orders.”

  “Mom—”

  Marissa slapped her hard across the bruised cheek and lower eye. “You broke rule number one. My guess is boarding school is starting to look good.”

  Aria touched her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Shelby will escort you to the spare bedroom. Shower and throw away everything you’re wearing. I’ve done a little shopping. New clothes, makeup, and two wigs are on the bed. I’ll have dinner and lemonade brought to you. Meals will be in your room unless otherwise instructed. One of my bodyguards is always here for our protection. We’re finished.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The tap of generosity flows as long as you behave.”

  75

  DENTON

  While the rest of world slept and neglected to anticipate a new day, I drove to Clay’s safe house. The idea of seeing him made more sense than a phone call. He’d experienced the loss of his wife, the reality of Marissa’s deviance, threats against Shelby, and Aria’s kidnapping. Not likely he’d hide his anguish in a face-to-face. Maybe he knew more than he’d shared.

  I took a gulp of hot coffee, burned my tongue, and uttered a curse word, a habit I needed to break. The highway stretched out before me with an occasional vehicle in my sights. Lots of think time, as if I hadn’t fired all my brain cells on this case. Questions formed, and my speed matched my insistence to get answers.

  My arrival found Clay and the two agents finishing up breakfast. I leaned against the kitchen counter with my crutches and noted the lines in Clay’s face had deepened since our last meeting. His plate of eggs hadn’t been touched.

  “Did those making threats against Shelby kidnap Aria?” Clay’s features tightened. “Did they see my granddaughter in Valleysburg?”

  “What I know is Eli Chandler kidnapped Aria per Marissa’s orders and is transporting your granddaughter to Miami, not Phoenix. Mike and I go wheels up in the morning.”

  Clay shoved back his breakfast. “I’m confused about all of this. I don’t understand why Marissa wants her daughter now when she had no problem leaving her in the past.”

  “I wish I had solid intel for you, but we’re working on it.” I addressed the two agents. “Do you mind if Clay and I talk privately?”

  The two grabbed their coffee and walked outside. Clay watched them leave. “What’s the bad news?”

  “Nothing to report along those lines. You’re worried, and I am too. Here’s what I can tell you, some of which you already are aware. Shelby volunteered to find evidence that would hold up in court and prove Marissa is part of a money-laundering organization. Meantime, indications of other illegal activities leading to Marissa have come to our attention.”

  His eyes reddened. “My wife told me before she died about Shelby taking the blame for Travis’s murder. I assumed the pain medications were talking, and I refused to listen. Then Aria claimed horrible things about Marissa, inconceivable things. I’ve thought of little else since. Memories repeat of my daughters as girls and of Marissa during the time Shelby spent in prison. But is it true? Did Shelby take the blame to protect her sister?”

  “Yes.”

  He clenched his fist. “Is Marissa behind the threats on Shelby’s life?”

  “We believe so.”

  “I want the chance to love on Shelby like she deserves and get Aria back. I love Marissa, but how could she do these horrible things?”

  Clay needed to hear what he was up against. “Marissa has legal rights to Aria. Instructing Chandler to pick her up and transport her to Florida isn’t against the law.”

  “Unless he hurt her. Aria’s disappearance is my fault. One of the agents left his phone on the table. I used it to call Marissa, to find out the truth behind her abandoning Aria.”

  “She had it traced. What do you remember about the conversation?”

  “I didn’t accuse her of anything, but I begged her to reconsider what she was doing to her daughter. She cried, her typical response. Claimed she missed Aria but believed her daughter was better off with me. Shelby had threatened her until she had to run, and some guy offered to help her get settled in Phoenix. No admittance of wrongdoing.” Clay shook his head. “Now I learn she’s in Miami. Why there when she insisted a need for a dry climate?”

  “Her medical records are clean. She has no known health issues.”

  He gasped. “But she has rheumatoid arthritis.”

  “No, Clay. It’s a fabrication.”

  He swallowed hard. “Before the FBI picked us up, I searched every inch of Marissa’s room and the bakery for information about her RA. Nothing. I’ve been a fool. Tell me how to make this right. I’ll do anything.”

  “Shelby is risking her life to usher in truth, and she’ll protect Aria. The—”

  “They’ll both be killed! I have to do something. You can’t expect me to sit here while my daughters wage war against each other. I’ve been blinded by lies. When and how did Marissa become the epitome of evil?” He rubbed his hand over his face. “You should be asking me that.”

  Motive came in different layers, and the origin of Marissa’s ambition mixed a deadly brew of when and why. “I drove here for another reason—to talk through what led up to Travis’s shooting. Think back to when your daughters were small. How was their relationship?” I eased onto a chair and stretched out my injured leg.

  “The wife and I thought we’d never have another child after Marissa, but five years later, Shelby arrived. We were happy with another little girl, healthy and so good.”

  “And Marissa?”

  “She seemed excited until she realized Mom and Dad’s attention were on two girls instead of one, and she was miserable. She stopped eating and acted out. The typical jealousy of an only child when another child enters the home. It got so bad, we took her to the doctor. Although we divided our time and included Marissa in Shelby’s care and added dance lessons to her schedule, it took a long time for her to adjust. We had to keep an eye on our girls because Marissa’s jealousy had a violent streak.”

  “How?”

  He sighed. “She lifted Shelby from the crib and attempted to toss her across the room. My wife discovered it before it was too late. Another time, when Shelby was crying, Marissa placed a pillow on Shelby’s face.”

  �
�Marissa grew out of the jealousy?”

  “We thought so. She changed almost overnight. One morning when Marissa was eight, she apologized for not believing we loved her as much as Shelby. My wife claimed God had answered our prayers. Marissa showed interest in her little sister and wanted Shelby to be a part of her life.”

  “The new relationship must have been a huge relief.”

  “For sure. Marissa showed patience and played with her little sister. As they grew older, they became very close.”

  “In what way?”

  “In the beginning, Marissa played teacher and showed Shelby how to dress herself, brush her teeth, comb her hair, and tie her shoes. As they grew older, Marissa taught Shelby how to dance and bought her gifts for no special reason. We were very pleased. Later on when Shelby went through her acting-out stage, Marissa took up for her. Made excuses and begged us not to be too hard on her.”

  “Were you aware Marissa made up mysteries and challenged Shelby to think like a criminal to outsmart the law?”

  Clay startled. “What? I never heard a word of it.”

  “Marissa asked Shelby to keep their games secret.”

  Clay stared out the window, as though his thoughts were far-reaching. I let him process. The truth hurt . . . I knew firsthand with my brother’s betrayal.

  “Shelby idolized her sister,” he finally said. “She’d never betray their relationship. That’s got to be why Shelby took the blame for Travis’s death.”

  “Marissa asked for her help, and she agreed. I’m questioning if the problems in Shelby’s teen years correspond to Marissa’s prompting.”

  “I’m afraid it makes sense. If I’m putting this all together right, Marissa never got past her jealousy. Instead she chose other ways to make herself look good and show Shelby as rebellious.”

  “I’m not a psychologist, Clay, but my thoughts are the same as yours. If we are to end Marissa’s crime spree, then we must consider the worst-case scenario. She and Eli Chandler have been together for years.”

  “Are you saying all the time she and Travis were married?” he whispered, the torment evident in his tone and on his face.

  “Yes, according to what she told Shelby.”

  “Aria could belong to Chandler.”

  “Clay, leave it alone. You’re beating yourself up for something out of your control. If Chandler is Aria’s father, it doesn’t make her any less your granddaughter. What’s important is getting her and Shelby out of this mess safely.”

  “You’re going to a lot of trouble to help Shelby and this family.”

  “Sir, I’m in love with her.”

  He peered at me. “I’m glad she has you on her side. But I’m still head of this family, and I’m not spending another hour here.”

  76

  SHELBY

  Aria’s first day at the penthouse showed me a teen who had no illusions about her mother’s evil nature. The girl didn’t visibly shed tears, but her eyes were red. Most of the time she stayed in her room. There I heard the sobs.

  Marissa told me to ready myself for brunch, not a surprise since I’d already met Feng Liu. I chose a black sleeveless dress, and Marissa wore bloodred. Lee drove us to Stage 7 restaurant. I found the meeting place risky. With all the happenings, why would my sister risk both of us being seen in a public setting known for catering to criminals?

  “We leave our phones in the car,” she said. “The men have theirs.”

  “Why when you know them?”

  “You’ll find out. Do you drink?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Good.”

  Paranoia took hold, and I tamped it into place.

  My sister never approved of spontaneity, and this morning had a purpose beyond meeting with the two men. If only I had the mental capacity to figure it out instead of faking confidence. One thing for sure, her reasons would benefit only her.

  “Listen and learn.” Marissa tapped my arm. “Rudder will come on to you, and I need you to play along.”

  At the restaurant, Lee stayed with the car, and we were ushered to the rear of the dining area. Heads again turned when Marissa walked past. My sister held a striking pose with her white-blonde hair and curve-hugging dress. She thrived on attention. Always had.

  In a private room, Feng and another man drank amber-colored whiskey at ten thirty in the morning. Both stood and Feng introduced John Rudder to me, a sandy-haired man with boyish features and startling blue eyes.

  “You weren’t kidding,” Rudder said. “Shelby’s gorgeous.”

  I thanked him with my best “I’m impressed” smile. We were seated, and the games began.

  Casual conversation dominated behind closed doors. A server delivered wine for all of us and took our food orders.

  The talk continued during brunch until Marissa placed her utensils crosswise on her plate. “Ready for business?”

  “You’re such a coldhearted woman.” Feng gave her a dimpled grin.

  “But I have an affair with money.”

  “And me?”

  She patted his hand. “You are my priority. Oh, I’d like a word in private before we discussed John’s offer.”

  “Take all the time you need.” Rudder waved them away. “Gives me a few extra moments to get acquainted with Shelby.” He opened the door to their small room and requested their server. She stepped inside. “I’d like more wine. My—”

  “You’ve had enough,” Feng said. “We have business to discuss.”

  “You’re telling me how much to drink?”

  “John—” Marissa pointed to me—“take Shelby’s wine. She doesn’t want it, right?” She smiled at Feng. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes, but not more.”

  I set the glass in front of John. His glassy eyes indicated his advanced alcohol level.

  The server disappeared with Marissa and Feng. Rudder moved his chair closer to me. “For an ex-con, you steal the show.”

  I feigned a smile. “I assume that’s a compliment.”

  “Always. I’ve been with the best. Makes me wonder what it would have been like to share a cell bunk.”

  “I’m sure we’d have kept the guards occupied.” I paused. “Who told you about prison?”

  “Feng. You pulled the trigger on Marissa’s husband, but she didn’t mind.”

  I tilted my head. “True.”

  “Dangerous women intrigue me.”

  I propped my chin in my hand. “Are you a dangerous man?”

  “Some think so.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss across my lips.

  I despised what I was doing. But I’d made a vow and I’d play the part.

  “Do you really never drink?”

  “Learned the hard way when I was younger. I want to be aware of what’s happening at all times.”

  “Your preference could be a plus.” He pointed to my wine. “You really don’t want this?” He slurred his words. “I hate to see it go to waste.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  He took a sip. “What are you doing later?”

  “John, I’m picky. Very picky.”

  “What’s not to like about me?”

  “I’m worth more than another name on a long list.”

  He smirked. “We’ll see. Marissa trusts you. She never brings anyone to a business meeting.”

  “She has good reasons. I saved her rear.”

  “She owes you?”

  “She’s my sister. Nothing’s owed.” I assumed a bug recorded our conversation, another one of Marissa’s tests.

  “Are you in favor of the business expansion?”

  “Depends on what’s in it for me.”

  “Heroin sales are up, and I’m Liu’s biggest client.” He downed the wine. “Love what’s inside those boxes of spark plugs and washer blades. What’s more important than money?”

  “Who’s managing it and where it’s invested.”

  The door opened, and Marissa and Feng returned. Maybe now I’d learn what they planned together. Feng closed
the door, and the two joined us at the table.

  “John, we’ve come to an agreement,” Marissa said. “Are you ready to address the details?”

  “Let’s order another bottle of wine and make a toast first.”

  Marissa slid into her chair. “We’ll toast when there’s reason to celebrate.”

  “What are the stipulations?” John massaged his temples. “I have a horrible headache. Feel sick.” His body twitched and convulsed.

  I scooted back my chair and attempted to stand, but Marissa grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “He needs help.” The words left my mouth the instant murder bannered across my mind.

  John’s face fell onto the table, his mouth agape with white foam oozing out.

  “Feng, would you contact the manager.” Marissa showed no more emotion than what I’d seen when she killed the agent. “I think John’s proposal just expired.”

  77

  DENTON

  I couldn’t get to Miami’s FBI office fast enough. Mike and I grabbed our tagged bags before leaving the airport in Miami and hailed a taxi.

  Our phones fired a notification at the same time. Never a good sign or I’d allowed my poor attitude to call the shots.

  I read the info from FBI Houston’s office.

  FBI arrests Shelby Pearce for the murder of John Rudder. Evidence linked to cyanide poisoning.

  Mike cursed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  I stopped along the hallway leading to the car rental exit and pressed in ASAC Leonard’s number. The guy annoyed me, but he had answers. “What’s the deal with Shelby?”

  “I’ll send you and Mike what we have. Your Ms. Innocent was the last person with Rudder. A server says she gave him her glass of wine, which we’ve learned had been laced with cyanide.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “Stage 7 in Miami. Marissa Stover and Feng Liu were with them. According to Stover and Feng, they excused themselves from a private dining area to chat, leaving Shelby alone with the victim. When the two returned, Rudder showed immediate signs of poisoning.”

 

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