Bedeviled (Beguiling Bachelors Book 3)

by Madison Michael

  BEDEVILED

  by

  Madison Michael

  Bedeviled

  Written by Madison Michael

  Copyright 2017 Madison Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior permission of the author/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to individuals known or unknown to the author is purely coincidental.

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  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to Sandy with my humble thanks for her insight into mysteries and suspense, and for her friendship.

  “Secrets are made to be found out with time.”

  Charles Sanford

  PROLOGUE – SOME YEARS EARLIER

  It all came about so quickly. He barely had time to realize what was happening before the horrible deed was done. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins; he felt his young heart would explode from it.

  Breathe. Just breathe slowly… and think.

  But he couldn’t think. He was in shock, unaware of anything but the blood seeping from below the body splayed out on the floor in front of him. It was thicker and darker than he expected blood to be. Not at all like in the movies.

  He needed to move swiftly, before anyone passed by the front window or before his wife came through the back door. He stood paralyzed though, knowing he needed to move but not sure whether to hide the body, the weapon, or just run.

  No one would believe it was self-defense. There were no witnesses to corroborate his story. His family was involved In questionable activities and he was young and poor. He could never afford the legal assistance he would require, and it would cost him everything he had in the world just to try defending himself. He was certain it would not be a good outcome.

  Run! Run now!

  It was the only decision he could make. Once he arrived at that conclusion his clumsy feet moved quickly. He locked the front door and bolted out the back. He grabbed all the money he had stashed in the small apartment. He grabbed a few small items that had been given to his wife and him as wedding gifts, items that might sell for a few extra dollars quickly, and without questions.

  “Pack a suitcase. A small suitcase. We are leaving,” he barked as he ran about the apartment.

  “What are you doing? What is the matter?”

  “We are leaving. Now. I will explain everything once we are away from this place.”

  “Explain now.”

  “Do you love me?” he asked urgently, staring deep into her beautiful brown eyes, willing her to understand and trust him.

  “With all my heart. You know that. Why do you ask me like this?”

  “Then please, pack a small bag now and come. Ask questions later.”

  So she moved as quickly as she could in her current state, feeling his alarm and absorbing it as her own. She mumbled some discontent under her breath, as she gathered what would fit in her small suitcase. She understood she would not be back.

  “What about my parents?” He could hear the fear in her voice.

  “We will contact them later,” he said with a weak smile meant to reassure.

  “When later?”

  He had no answer so he remained silent. He looked around the old apartment where they had been happy. His eyes passed over their belongings wistfully, but all he took was their wedding picture. Lifting it from atop a small table, he tucked it safely inside the front of his jacket. Taking her hand gently, he pulled her from their old life into the unknown and never looked back.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Charlotte was hiding something.

  Alex could feel it in his bones. Since they had met in June, she had been elusive and mysterious - even cryptic sometimes. If she wasn’t so damn alluring he would have walked away by now. He had never waited around for a woman in his life. They had flocked around him like pigeons. Not Charlotte.

  He had vacillated between wanting her and wanting to get away from her, but wanting her always won. He had wondered if she was keeping some deep, dark secret or if it was a suddenly overactive imagination, but today, once she had ‘the accident’, he was sure. She was definitely hiding something.

  Their morning had started much like any other. Their run had been companionable, ending near the beach where they watched the last tinge of pink leave the sky over Lake Michigan.

  “Good time today,” Alex praised, shaking off his constant, simmering desire for her long enough to stop staring at her. He checked his stopwatch as they toweled off and gulped from their water bottles. Sitting on a low stone wall, the beach behind them, Lincoln Park and the Chicago skyline before them, they shared the sunrise of a crystal clear morning and the healthy exhaustion that followed their workouts. “We have to go longer tomorrow.”

  “I know,” Charlotte had responded, annoyed. “I hate early mornings. Yeah, yeah,” she headed him off before he gave her a lecture, ”I know we have to do it, and once I am running I’ll be fine, but until then just let me complain. Not all of us can just talk ourselves into ignoring pain and exhaustion.”

  Alex listened to her non-stop loathing of that early morning alarm. It was a routine by now, repeated out of habit.

  “I’m tired,” she would complain. “It’s those stupid nightmares I have. They wake me up and then I can’t get back to sleep.”

  “Talk to me about them, Maybe that would help,” he offered as he had countless times before.

  “It’s nothing, really.”

  But he knew it was something. Another piece of the puzzle that was Charlotte. “You have them all the time, Charlotte. It’s not nothing.”

  “Just drop it,” she sighed and so he did, reminding her instead that if she wanted to train with him, she would have to get up early. She complained, but she always showed up and she always ran hard.

  Their training was shorter runs interspersed with long runs requiring the 5:30 a.m. start that she so vociferously complained about. She hated those long run days but with only six weeks to go until the Chicago Marathon, they were pushing each other hard.

  Pushing each other’s buttons, too.

  “How long will you be around this time?” she queried, breaking into his thoughts of her, of her funny habits and quirks that he had come to know, of her body so temptingly close to his. He could smell the light floral scent of her soap or shampoo mingled with the smell of perspiration. The combination aroused him, as always.

  What had she just asked him? Concentrate, you dolt.

  “I head to California week after next. You?”

  “I need to be in Boston next week, so it looks like our schedules won’t overlap – for a change. What keeps taking you to L.A. anyway? This must be your second or third trip this month. You were gone all that time over the summer, too.”

  So the verbal dance began.

  “Just business. The usual,” Alex gave her his standard answer.

  “Whatever that means,” came Charlotte’s sarcastic response.

  “Well, what’s with all your trips to Boston?” he turned the tables on her.

  “Harvard stuff,” her response was too quick and equally vague.

  “Whatever that means,” Alex mimicked in a sing-song voice. He dropped the subject though.

  I can’t push her if I don’t want her hounding me, damn it all.

  Alex clammed up. He could share little of his life with this woman unless he was prepared for her to notice discrepancies, pick up on his little mistakes. Even after decades of
cover up, he worried about letting something slip. He didn’t have to stay on his toes as much with the vapid L.A. models he usually dated.

  Alex tamped down his curiosity, resisted pursuing further questions on the subject and allowed her to do the same. Instead, he returned to the mundane while they caught their breath.

  “I wanted to ask you for more advice on structuring the financing for my deal in St. Louis. I could really use your logical approach on this one.”

  “I’m happy to help, Charlotte, but you know you can do it on your own. You always can.”

  So, we will stick with finance. I shouldn’t get in to trouble with this topic, but of course, neither will she.

  “But this is my biggest deal yet. I think I covered everything but I would feel better with a second set of eyes on it, especially yours. Maybe I could come by after work today or tomorrow?”

  “Sure, I am happy to help. Not today though, I have too much going on. Tomorrow?”

  “We could do lunch. I’ll buy,” she offered, persistent.

  “Okay, that works,” Alex readily agreed.

  Lunch keeps things casual so that maybe we can talk about you for a change, Charlotte.

  Alex knew that Charlotte didn’t need the help she was requesting. She might lack the confidence in her new job, but she was brilliant. Too brilliant. She was certainly smart enough to fool most of the world with very little effort if she wanted to. Alex recognized that if she had secrets, she was far too clever to be found out easily. They had been running together every day for almost four months, at least when they were both in town. Add the fact that they usually followed their runs with coffee and all that togetherness meant a lot of talk time.

  They had covered a lot of territory in their conversations, speaking easily on a variety of subjects. She was extremely well educated, from a blueblood Boston background. Surprisingly, she was not well traveled. She had never even been to California, so she was always asking him about L.A. or his school years in Palo Alto. She was well read and quick witted. They discussed books, theater and politics.

  Of course, they conversed on financial topics too, from what it was like for him to run an entire bank to dissecting her new position as Director of Finance at Lyons Howe Real Estate. Her ability to crunch numbers in her head and see the long-term impact of them staggered him, but of course it was that ability that had earned her the new job and brought her to Chicago.

  She was easy to talk to, warm and interesting. And interested in him. Too interested. She asked way too many piercing questions. He had learned to deflect the conversation back to her by asking her about settling in Chicago. Charlotte talked about the challenges of living in a new city, finding her way around, using public transportation – which had surprised him too. He expected her to have a driver, or at least take taxis. But she was more down to earth than that. She was openly excited to explore her new home. They talked about how they spent their time and their careers.

  They didn’t share anything intimate. They certainly didn’t share the truth.

  Both were focused and ambitious and that emerged in their debates. Clear about their futures, they could describe their career goals and what steps they would take to achieve them. But any discussion of either’s personal life was always a bit sketchy with the details murky. The conversation always returned to safe topics.

  “So, how are the wedding plans coming?” Charlotte asked, as by tacit agreement they headed in the direction of the nearest Starbucks.

  “I am so glad to be leaving town. There are too many parties. I am sick of them. Aubrey is thrilled to see everyone and I think she is enjoying the attention. My parents’ house is overflowing with gifts,” Alex laughed. “God only knows where Aubrey will put everything, and there are still two months until the wedding.”

  “How about your brother?” Alex asked, keeping the conversation in safe and innocuous territory. “He should be graduating soon, shouldn’t he? Those gifts must be coming in by now too. Kitchen stuff, I would imagine? Has he shared any new recipes with you this week?”

  Charlotte’s brother was graduating from the Culinary Institute of America in the winter. It was one of the few things he knew about her family. He also knew there was another, older brother that had graduated from Harvard. He had no idea what he did. Besides ‘business’.

  “And how is the rest of your family?”

  “No new recipes this week sadly. But, did I tell you? Don is starting to receive job offers already. I am so excited for him. The Culinary Institute is the Harvard of cooking schools, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Speaking of Harvard, didn’t your parents have a problem with your brother choosing to be a chef? I would imagine they wanted him to follow in your footsteps. How do they feel about a chef in the family after you and Jake both got Harvard MBA’s?” Alex presented the question innocently enough but he noticed the instant Charlotte stiffened up, and that she tried to hide it.

  “Of course they don’t mind, they love us and just want us to be happy. It’s like you feel about Aubrey, protective and full of brotherly love. It’s how I am sure your parents feel about you, although you have certainly exceeded everyone’s expectations, haven’t you?” Charlotte changed the subject, as she always did when he asked about her family.

  Oh yes, she is hiding something and I am tired of waiting for her to come clean. Either she trusts me or she doesn’t.

  Today’s chat had been open and easy when discussing ways to improve the economy but when they switched to her family, she shut him down. When they discussed plans for the Chicago Marathon late next month she was fully engaged, but when they attempted to schedule their next several training runs, Alex watched Charlotte become vague – again.

  He was amazed that he noticed since it was difficult concentrating with her so near. He was caught up in the feel of a lightly grazed arm, the sight of her fit body in her running clothes, the way she periodically pushed her hair behind her ear.

  Despite their relaxed banter, Alex was acutely aware of her every move, her every breath, so he recognized the moment she ‘went fuzzy’ on him, as he liked to call it. That was when Charlotte, decisive and articulate, suddenly forgot things, confused things or failed to mention things. It was a complete shift in her speaking style, full of the lengthy pauses she needed to create a good story or remember the previous lies so she didn’t contradict them. An unintelligent woman would have made more mistakes. Not Charlotte; she was anything but stupid.

  Keeping his mind on the topic always took all of Alex’s effort anyway. When Charlotte sat hip-to-hip with him as she had today, he felt the heat of her skin, saw the long length of thigh exposed in front of him, heard her heavy post-run breathing until he was in sensory overload. She smelled so good, not stinky and sweaty like he must. She smelled classy and expensive with all those clean, floral scents. She smelled like a woman he could trust.

  More like a woman I want to trust.

  Thinking back, Alex recognized that she had been hiding something all along. When he wasn’t lost in a sensual fog, he was able to zero in on where the conversations lagged, when she got testy with his probing or tried to change the subject. It had something to do with her life in Boston before she moved to Chicago and it was something that had been going on for a while. She was practiced at her excuses by the time she used them on him. She was making too many trips back East for ‘Harvard stuff.’ She had met Regan Howe through this same ‘Harvard stuff’ yet Regan went back to her alma mater only once or twice a year, if that.

  Oh yeah, Charlotte is definitely up to something and I intend to find out what. I have been patient long enough.

  Sitting waiting now for Charlotte to arrive at Starbucks, Alex promised himself that he would get to the bottom of this or walk away.

  Since she had declined his offer of a ride, Alex currently sat at a shady outside table enjoying the last of summer, waiting for her to walk over and speculating on her possible secrets. He was planning his subtle in
terrogation during the few minutes Charlotte would need to make her way across the park,

  Stubborn. She should have just accepted the ride.

  “You driving over or walking?” she had asked him, once they caught their breath.

  “I have the car if you want a ride?” When she hesitated, he tried tempting her. “I have the new car.”

  Alex was the proud owner of a brand new Mercedes AMG. The sleek, luxury sports car suited him despite most people’s image of him as logical, conservative and staid. The need for speed was actually deep in his blood. “You will love it, tight on the curves, fast and quiet. She purrs,” he had bragged.