The Betrayed

by Jana DeLeon

  Alaina made sure her voice sounded convincing, but the look on her mother’s face told her she wasn’t certain.

  The worst part was, Alaina wasn’t certain, either.

  IT TOOK THE BETTER PART of an hour for Zach, Danae and Carter to exchange information, and with every passing tidbit that Carter added, Zach found himself more confused by what might be going on in the house. When Danae told Carter what happened with the voltage meter, he listened intently, occasionally asking questions, but not once did the sheriff appear even remotely concerned about their sanity.

  When Danae finished, Carter looked over at Zach. “You got any idea what could have caused something like that?”

  “None whatsoever,” Zach said. “Unless there’s a problem with my equipment, which would surprise me, I don’t have a clue.”

  Carter nodded. “I have a voltage meter at home. I’ll bring it by tomorrow for a test. I don’t suppose someone could have created enough electricity in the room to set it off, could they?”

  “Maybe, but our hair would have been standing on end if that much electricity was wafting through open space. And besides, the people you’ve got your eye on don’t sound like the kind that could rig such an event, and even if they were, how would they know I’d use the voltage meter in that particular room and at what time?”

  Danae’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’s still in the house, do you? I mean, if it was a prank of some sort, he’d have to time it correctly, but surely...”

  Carter glanced at Zach and he knew the sheriff didn’t want to tell Danae what he thought, but he wouldn’t lie to her, either.

  “Anything’s possible,” Carter said finally. “I wish I could tell you we’re alone in the house, but the reality is, there’re a million places to hide in here and no way for us to check them all. And that’s just the areas we’re aware of. There could be more servants’ passages or secret rooms.”

  “Wouldn’t Amos know?” Danae asked.

  “No,” Carter said. “I talked to him after leaving Bert’s place. He knew about the servants’ stairs but he has no knowledge of any exterior entries to the house other than the obvious ones.”

  “I hate this!” Danae jumped up from the dining chair and paced the kitchen. “It almost feels like we’re being...I don’t know, herded?”

  Zach nodded. “Like a puppeteer—someone behind the scenes, pulling the strings.”

  “Exactly,” Danae agreed. “Like’s it all been staged just for me.”

  “I think it probably has been,” Carter said. “Not you, personally, but the sisters.”

  “Do you really think a long-haul trucker or an alcoholic short-order cook could pull off something this elaborate?” Danae asked.

  Carter shook his head. “But either of them could have hired someone. Or one of the organizations that will inherit could have found out about the terms of the will. It could be anyone from an employee to the board of directors to a local politician.”

  “Too many people,” Zach said. “Too many possibilities.”

  “Yes,” Carter agreed. “My next objective is to work on whittling down that list.”

  “Can we help?” Danae asked.

  “Maybe. I know there are lots of options but I can’t help feeling that the key to everything is Trenton Purcell. I’ve been looking into the man, and it’s all very sketchy. It’s like one day he materialized in Calais but there’s not even a hint of his existence prior to then.”

  “So what are you thinking?” Zach asked.

  “I don’t have a supposition yet, but I’m hoping this house contains the answers to Purcell’s secrets. Those journal entries that Danae found are a good start. Based on what I learned from William and Bert, I’d guess that what you found was Purcell’s logs for his own funds.”

  “His accounting for the cash he made selling off estate assets?” Danae asked.

  “Exactly, an entirely different issue than the estate accounts, which are managed by the law firm in New Orleans.”

  “Makes you wonder what happened to the cash after he died.”

  “Maybe that’s what the intruder is looking for,” Carter said. “From the looks of the office, Purcell didn’t throw much away. Surely there’s enough information in here to piece together what he was up to and everyone in Calais who was involved.”

  “Should I...” Danae began. “I guess I should start going through things in his bedroom.”

  A mere glance let Zach know that the last thing Danae wanted to do was spend time in Purcell’s bedroom. From the weird, creepy perspective, he didn’t blame her, but he couldn’t afford for the voltage-meter incident to deter him from the job at hand.

  “I’ll do it,” Zach said. “I’ll search for records in the bedroom and haul them out as I find them. That way Danae doesn’t have to go in there.”

  Danae’s face flushed. “I am perfectly capable of doing the job I’ve been hired to do—”

  “I know,” Zach interrupted. “I’m not suggesting anything different, but the office is going to take forever, and I need to figure out the problem with the electricity in the bedroom anyway. Without moving some of that stuff out of there, I’ll never be able to get to the sockets to test.”

  “He’s right,” Carter said. “And I’d feel better about you being in the house if Zach was nearby. The sooner we figure out what’s going on here, the sooner I can make it stop. I’ll talk to William and explain that Zach will be working on some nonconstruction-related things. You know he’ll support that decision.”

  Danae sighed. “I know. We’ll start this afternoon.”

  “Good,” Carter said. “If you two are okay here, I’m going to head to New Orleans this afternoon to talk to a couple of people—see if I can turn up anything on Purcell there.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Zach assured him.

  Carter rose from his chair and placed his hand on Danae’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

  He looked over at Zach. “Would you mind getting me a couple of items from Purcell’s bedroom? Things he would have touched on a regular basis.”

  Zach stood, understanding immediately what Carter wanted. “You think the print will turn up something?”

  “It’s worth a shot.”

  Danae jumped up from her chair and opened the pantry. “I have some sandwich bags in here. Be careful not to touch anything yourself.” She handed the box of sandwich bags to Zach.

  Zach grabbed the box and headed upstairs, Carter and Danae trailing behind. Maybe this was the answer to some of the questions. If Carter could figure out where Purcell came from and why, then they might be able to get a better handle on the horrible things he did.

  What worried him more was how Danae would take it if it resulted in just another dead end.

  “THIS IS THE LAST of the records from the dresser,” Zach said as he stacked the spiral notebooks on the desk in front of Danae. It had been a long, dusty afternoon and he wanted nothing more at the moment than a hot shower. Unfortunately, the shower was going to have to wait.

  As soon as Danae called it quits and headed home, he was going to make good use of the window he’d freed that morning and grab the box of paperwork from the time surrounding Ophelia’s death. He’d get it back in place long before work time, and Danae would never be the wiser. He might not have an internet connection in the caretaker’s cabin, but he’d had the forethought to bring his laptop and a scanner. If he found anything interesting, he would make a copy.

  Danae looked at the stack of dusty notebooks and sighed. “So that’s everything from the dresser and nightstands, right?”

  “Yeah, but I think there’s more under the bed, and I didn’t have the heart to even peek into the closet.”

  She glanced at her watch. “No wonder. It’s six o’clock already. You should have let me know it was so late.”

  “We were both absorbed, and besides, it’s not like my Calais social calendar is bursting at the seams.�
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  “Well, then, let me do something about the social calendar to make up for working you like a slave. Dinner at the café—my treat?”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. You’ve done so much for me today. Besides, I don’t like eating alone, and my cupboard is bare.”

  Zach laughed. “So essentially, you’re still working me.” He said it in a joking tone, but he could tell that what Danae was really avoiding was going home alone. With her independent nature, she’d never admit it, though.

  She smiled. “Then I’ll throw in a couple of beers and, if you’re really good company, a bowl of banana pudding.”

  “You had me at dinner, but I’m not going to turn down the rest. I had a bowl of banana pudding there last night with Carter and have already decided it should be illegal. Seriously, if I lived here, I’d be fat as a tick.”

  “Not if I keep working you like a mule. Let’s get out of here. It’s probably dark already.”

  She rose from the desk and headed out of the office. Zach watched her as she walked away, momentarily mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips in snug jeans. After talking with Carter, Danae had gone straight to work, and Zach could tell her protective wall was back in place. He’d pushed all thoughts of their shared kiss to the back of his mind while he worked, concentrating instead on the real reason he was in Calais.

  All afternoon, he’d been thinking about getting ahold of that paperwork and wondering what he would find, but the moment Danae asked him to dinner, his fickle thoughts had switched right back to that kiss. He could still feel the heat from her body pressed into his, her lips soft and smooth.

  He shook his head and hurried out of the office before she wondered what was holding him up. Stealing paperwork and taking that kiss to the next level were the only two answers he could honestly give, and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t like either one.

  As he stepped out of the office, he almost collided with Danae. “Sorry,” he said as he grabbed her shoulders to avoid slamming into her.

  “No, it’s my fault,” she said as she stepped around him and grabbed the notebooks off the desk in the bedroom. “I want to bring some of the records home with me tonight.”

  Zach clenched his hands as she tossed the notebooks into the box with records from the period surrounding Ophelia’s death and then bent over to lift it.

  “Let me get that,” he said and hefted the box up in front of his face, afraid his frustration was showing.

  He carried the box outside and placed it in her car while she locked up the house. With every step, he tried to come up with another idea. So far, Danae had refused his offers to help go through the paperwork, and he understood that. She was a very guarded person and that paperwork might contain information that was private—things she might not feel comfortable letting others know.

  He’d seen how uncomfortable she was telling Carter about the payments to the families who had adopted the girls. Carter, of course, had taken it in without even blinking and had moved straight toward analysis rather than lingering over the emotional impact of her findings. But Zach had seen the flex of his jaw and knew the good sheriff was beyond angry. He was just smart enough to know that his anger would only make Danae feel worse.

  Zach had liked Carter from the moment he’d met him, but at that moment, his respect for the man had doubled. If anyone was going to get to the bottom of everything happening in Calais, he had no doubt Carter Trahan would be that person. Which left Zach with two objectives—find the information he came for in the first place and prevent anyone from harming Danae.

  “I’ll follow you to the café,” he said and jumped into his truck.

  * * *

  THE INTRUDER WATCHED from between the blinds of an upstairs window as the heiress and her maintenance boy drove away. From his hiding place in the attic, he’d heard every conversation that had occurred in Purcell’s office. When the sheriff arrived, he was tempted to leave the attic and sneak down the servants’ stairs off the kitchen to see if he could hear the discussion, but it was too much of a risk.

  The house was old and many places creaked, which made it nearly impossible to change location without alerting others that he was there. Lately, it had gotten much harder to get in and out without detection. He was fortunate he still had the front-door key that he’d stolen years ago, and he’d thought when the first heiress finished out her days in the house he could get back to work.

  Now he not only had another meddling woman in his way, but also a nosy contractor who seemed more interested in the woman than repairing the house. But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that the woman had just driven off with a box that probably contained the paperwork he’d been looking for.

  He banged his hand on the window, damning the day the woman had come to Calais. First, he’d finish the work he needed to do here today, then he’d pay the heiress a visit at her cabin.

  And collect what was his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  All twenty minutes of the slow, bumpy drive, Zach thought about how he was going to access the records. Sneaking into the empty main house and stealing them was one thing, but he could hardly break into Danae’s tiny cabin with her in there. The memory of her nine millimeter was stamped on his mind.

  When he parked in front of the café, he was no closer to an answer than he’d been when they left the house.

  Several tables were occupied, but the far corner held an empty booth with no one seated nearby. Zach pointed to it and Danae nodded. Unless they were yelling, they wouldn’t be overheard. As soon as they took their seats, the waitress walked over, a big smile on her face.

  “It’s great to see you again,” Sonia said to Danae. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you this morning for quitting. I really needed my job back and there’s only so many available in Calais.”

  Danae smiled. “I’m glad it worked out for everyone.”

  “I do have a favor to ask, though. I have some personal business to take care of tomorrow. Is there any way you can cover for me? I know it’s Saturday, and I don’t want to ruin your weekend, but it’s just the midmorning shift, so you wouldn’t start until nine. Irene said she can come in early and cover starting at eleven.”

  “Is Johnny okay with it?”

  Zach’s pulse sped up a tick and he knew he was holding his breath, waiting for the answer. If Danae was out of her cabin for the morning, that would give him time to get in there and look at some of the documents.

  Sonia rolled her eyes. “You know Johnny. He said he doesn’t care as long as the food gets out before it gets cold.”

  Danae nodded. “That sounds about right. Sure, I can do it. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

  Sonia looked down at the floor for a moment and Zach could see a blush creeping up her neck. “Just some old business that needs to be handled. You know how it is.”

  “I do. Well, good luck with it.”

  “Thanks. Can I get you guys something to eat? Pot roast is the special, and I have to say, Jack’s outdone himself. It’s fantastic.”

  Zach nodded and Danae held up two fingers. “Make it two, please?” she said.

  “Got it,” Sonia said and hurried back to the grill to put in the order.

  She’d barely left when one of the men at the table nearest them rose from his chair and sauntered over.

  Danae looked up and smiled. “Hi, Mr. Martin.”

  “Roger, please,” he said to Danae and then stuck his hand out to Zach. “Roger Martin.”

  Zach shook the man’s hand, wondering what he wanted. His companions, two older men, watched from their table, and Zach could see them speaking to each other, their shoulders almost touching.

  “Zach Sargent. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You a relative?”

  Zach shook his head. “I’m a contractor. Mr. Duhon hired me to make some repairs at the LeBeau estate.”

  “I hea
rd the place was in a real state of disrepair. No way Amos could have kept all that up at his age.” Roger turned to Danae, studying her for a moment. “So, I hear you’re one of Ophelia’s missing daughters.”

  Danae sat up a bit straighter, clearly uncomfortable under Roger’s scrutiny. “I guess it seems strange to everyone that I never said anything.”

  “Not to me. Purcell wasn’t well liked and you couldn’t have known what you might walk into here. I don’t blame you for taking in the lay of the land before offering up that bit of information.”

  Zach saw Danae relax a bit.

  “Well,” Danae said, “I hope others share your feelings.”

  “I’m sure most do. Anyway, I wanted to apologize for not recognizing you. You were just a baby when I saw you last and you don’t look much like your mother....”

  “No, I don’t. Did you know my mother well?”

  Roger nodded. “I was the sheriff for thirty years. I knew everyone. Of course, no one saw her much after she married Purcell. He was a bit of an odd duck. Kept you all locked in that house like the apocalypse was coming.”

  “That’s what I hear. I don’t really remember anything.”

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t. She was a nice woman, your mother. What my mother would have called a real lady. Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you need anything, I’m happy to help.”

  “Thank you.”

  Roger gave Zach a nod then walked back to his table.

  “That was weird,” Danae said, glancing back at Roger before turning back to face Zach.

  “I take it you weren’t friendly before?” Zach asked.

  “I was as friendly as I am to all the customers, but I never got to know him like some of the other residents. Until now, he’s never spoken to me other than to give his order. I didn’t even know he was once the sheriff.”

  Zach glanced across the café and saw Roger frowning at Danae, his brow scrunched as if in thought. “I wonder what he wanted.”

  “You got that feeling, too?”

  “That he had an ulterior motive for the conversation—sure.”

  She sighed. “Me, too, but I have no idea what.”