Protecting His Brother's Bride

by Jan Schliesman

  “She made choices, Dalton. When someone is depressed it skews their interpretation of everything around them.”

  “You aren’t hearing me, Kira. I should have known what she was thinking. Our lives were always connected. Why didn’t I know what was going on inside her head?”

  “So you’re saying her parents and Tate, plus all the friends she had—they all knew what she was thinking?” Kira’s hand brushed across his shoulder. “Ridiculous. You can’t believe a word of that.”

  “It wasn’t their responsibility. It was mine.” And speaking of responsibility, he had tangible proof that Josh and Kira were married. Dalton needed to make sure she was safe and get his team of attorneys busy clearing her name. Tomorrow. Tonight she needed him, right here. He wondered how his mother would feel when she saw him taking Kira’s side of the argument...

  The silence extended as Dalton sat there, lost in thought. Kira’s body gradually relaxed, until her calm breathing told him she’d fallen asleep.

  * * *

  Kira woke the next morning alone on the couch. Her eyes were gritty from crying, but her body was relaxed. Dalton must have stayed with her for a while. She slid off the couch and stretched.

  Slowly, she made her way down the hallway. Dalton’s voice echoed from behind a closed door. She continued to the shower, found some fresh clothes and went to the kitchen. Dalton was waiting.

  “I want to show you a few things.”

  She spent thirty minutes learning how to start the generator, where the flashlights, candles and matches were kept and how to use the security keypad. Dalton even entrusted her with the secret code, which she chanted in her head until the lure of that closed door in the hallway broke into her thoughts.

  Dalton had been inside the room it led to earlier, making business calls. She tested the knob, found it unlocked and inched the door open to peek inside.

  Cool air rushed at her, causing a shiver to race up her spine. Shelves lined the walls directly opposite the door and a sparkling statue on the top ledge caught her eye. It looked like... Wait a minute, it couldn’t be. Opening the door completely, she stepped into the frigid room and spared a final glance over her shoulder. Dalton had gone outside to adjust the satellite dish, so she should have a few minutes of uninterrupted snooping time.

  Walking past the desk, she moved closer as utter amazement clogged her throat. There were four Grammy awards, coated in a layer of dust.

  She set down her tea and pulled a chair over to the shelf, a niggling of doubt bubbling in her stomach. One quick look and she’d scurry out of the room. She climbed atop the chair and read the shiny gold plaque on the first award: Best New Artist 2008, Lauren Lee.

  As she hastily scanned the remaining shelves, Kira spotted a picture prominently displayed at eye level, of Dalton posing with Lauren on the red carpet at some important shindig. No doubt about it, the man cleaned up well. The cut of the tuxedo jacket accentuated his broad shoulders and he appeared larger than life itself.

  Kira’s hormones shifted into overdrive. Which had to be wrong, right?

  Lauren was doing her best to play to the camera in a tight-fitting red gown, showcasing her assets, along with a dazzling diamond necklace circling her throat. But the best accessory, by far, was Dalton standing by her side.

  Kira hopped to the floor. Leaning forward for further scrutiny of the picture, she immediately read the look of apprehension in Lauren’s eyes. The smile painting her lips was forced and meant to appease the paparazzi, which had probably been lined up for blocks to get a glimpse of the latest singing sensation to hit the pop charts.

  Dalton was beaming, holding Lauren’s hand as if they were two high school sweethearts on their way to the prom. That’s what love should look like.

  Kira would have remembered being on the receiving end of such a look. She stared at the picture on the bookshelf as her eyes filled with tears. For the first time in her life, jealousy settled across her skin. Jealous of a dead woman. Could she sink any lower?

  Good Lord, what was she doing? She couldn’t sit around and wait for Dalton to make anything happen. It wasn’t his fault she’d cornered Griffin. Wasn’t his fault she was in danger. Dalton was using his money and resources to help her. No one had ever done such a thing for her. Even Josh, the man who’d pledged his love to her, hadn’t helped her when she’d needed the most support. She may have loved and hated Josh, but Kira couldn’t live with herself if something happened to Dalton.

  She squared her shoulders and slid the chair to the desk, only then noticing the laptop hiding under a pile of unopened mail. She immediately lifted the lid, but since it was an older model, it took a minute or two to boot up. There was a shaky connection to the internet, judging by the icon in the bottom right corner of the screen blinking on and off.

  Kira raised the window blind and looked outside, trying to see the mountain range. She checked the screen again and the icon disappeared. After picking up the laptop, she hurried to the open doorway, pausing long enough to make sure Dalton hadn’t returned inside.

  The long, oak stairway was infrequently used. Several layers of dust had accumulated on both sides of the carpet runner. The swirling snow was visible, courtesy of a rectangular window midway up the steps. When she reached the top, she checked the computer screen again and found the icon flashing once more. The internet router must be in one of the rooms she hadn’t explored.

  She made her way to the end of the hall, silently eased open the door there and peeked inside. The room smelled faintly of lilies and lavender, but mostly of stale air and emptiness. Heavy draperies hung from oversize curtain rods spanning a width of a dozen or so feet. The walls were painted a pale yellow meant to be soothing, but because of the stale air, the space felt more institutional than homey.

  Kira glanced over her shoulder and listened. The house was quiet, so she stepped into the room and checked every outlet, without locating the router. Finally, she opened the first panel of draperies covering the floor-to-ceiling windows. A large window seat was revealed, along with the elusive router. The glare from the fallen snow blinded her for a moment before she slid onto the brocade-patterned cushion and allowed the draperies to drop into place.

  It was quite a bit colder near the dusty windows, but that was a fair exchange for the wireless connection icon blinking green on the computer’s screen. She quickly tapped the keys and reached her email home page before entering her name and password. Seconds later she was scrolling through her emails and downloading several of the documents she’d sent herself from her work email account.

  She typed in the address for an online document storage site. A few months ago, in a moment of semibrilliance, she’d uploaded several more files on Griffin obtained during her investigation. Her top-secret-after-hours-cure-for-insomnia quest to stop the flow of money into his pockets. There were original documents showing four of his bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, Belize and the Netherlands. Now she just needed to find a way to link them to the eleven million dollars she’d supposedly embezzled.

  But as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, she absently tapped the space bar and the box prefilled another username. She paused, read the name and then hit the tab key, successfully inserting the password, which had already been saved. A few seconds later, Lauren Lee’s name appeared on the screen.

  Kira stared blankly at it, uncertain if she should log out right away. Her eyes refocused and she scanned the page, noting the documents were all in folders labeled with the month and year. She scrolled to the bottom, tapped on the first folder and opened the document listed. It was Lauren’s journal and Kira knew immediately she shouldn’t read any further. Her eyes skimmed the page, anyway. She smiled briefly as Lauren described how she’d come up with the melody for “Secrets” while mixing up a batch of chili for a party she was hosting with a few of her friends.

  She’
d accidently purchased ranch-style beans instead of the usual chili beans, and the chili had been a new favorite for the small gathering of people. Everyone had quizzed her about her “secret recipe” and she’d been proud to have something in her life she didn’t have to share with the world.

  Kira closed the file and chose a different month, acutely interested in Lauren’s life on stage. She’d posted several times while in Europe, logging all the sights and sounds of the huge arenas, and the devoted fans who’d camped out for days in the winter weather to get tickets. Beyond all the lights, glamour and world travel, Lauren had been a regular woman who’d had an extraordinary gift. Her voice was uniquely sweet and a bit sultry.

  Bits of conversations she had with Dalton were mixed in with Lauren’s notes. It seemed odd to Kira that if the woman had been depressed enough to take her own life, more of these records didn’t tell of her true feelings. Did Dalton even know about this site? Had he read any of Lauren’s entries?

  Kira clicked out and was ready to exit when she noticed an untitled folder mixed in with the others. It was probably nothing, but snooping through one more file seemed minor compared to all her other transgressions of the past few weeks.

  The first sentence of Lauren’s entry had Kira’s skin rising in goose bumps.

  Dalton canceled our weekend plans at the last minute, but I’d already driven up to the chalet. I decided to work on ideas for next year’s tour. The world will have to survive without me, because I’m only doing thirty shows, all in the good ol’ US of A.

  Didn’t quite sound like a woman wanting to give up on her music.

  Kira closed the file and chose another.

  The Buckshot’s jet is being serviced and Dalton couldn’t get a flight out of Atlanta today. I told him not to worry, I’d be fine. Then Josh calls and it turns out he’s in Kansas City. We had dinner in his room, and evidently the wine was stronger than I’m used to, because I was too tired to make it to my hotel. Josh let me have his bed while he slept on the couch. Always the gentleman.

  Kira snorted, scrutinized the date on the entry and nearly fell off the window seat. It was October, and she’d been studying for a midterm while Josh was supposedly getting extra studio time with some mentor in the art world. He was such a liar. Lauren Lee was his sister-in-law, and he’d never said a word about it.

  A slew of crazy possibilities took shape in Kira’s mind. What if the person harassing Lauren had been in her circle of trust? After everything Josh had put Kira through, she’d peg him as more than capable of twisting circumstances to fit his own agenda.

  She lost track of time as she scrolled from file to file, scanning for Josh’s name. It popped up more than anyone else’s. In fact, he had an uncanny knack for being nearby each time Dalton and Lauren were unable to connect.

  “Kira?” Dalton’s voice called to her from down the hallway.

  She froze for a moment, uncertain if she should remain quiet or show herself and face his disapproval. Staring down at the message on the screen, Kira quickly tapped a few more keys and saved the folder directly to the computer’s hard drive. She had to share the information with Dalton. He had every right to know what game Josh had been playing with Lauren during the months before her death. Josh had obviously felt nothing for the people he considered family. How could he betray Dalton?

  Closing the lid on the computer, Kira left the window seat and hurried toward the doorway, hoping to catch Dalton before he realized how far she’d intruded in the room he’d obviously shared with Lauren.

  He’d already crossed the threshold when his eyes locked on to hers, and there was absolutely nothing she could say to defend her actions. She’d trespassed, and the guilt must be clearly written on her face.

  “What are you doing up here?”

  She noticed his attention was completely focused on her, as though he was avoiding even a cursory glance at the rest of the room.

  Honesty seemed the best course of action. “I thought I could get a better internet connection from up here. I wanted to access a few files on my private email account.”

  He stared at the computer clutched in her hands. “Where did you find Lauren’s laptop?”

  “It was buried under a bunch of papers in the office downstairs.”

  His hands fisted at his sides. “I wish you hadn’t touched it.”

  Kira nodded. “I assumed it must have been hers, after I logged in. I’m truly sorry if I’ve upset you, but I think you need to read what I’ve found.”

  “Put it away.” He turned and gestured her toward the open door.

  “Dalton, it’s very important you read this.” Kira extended the laptop toward him.

  “No. I want you out of this room.”

  “Please, Dalton, I know losing Lauren was devastating, but—”

  “It’s more than losing Lauren,” he interrupted. “We fought that night and I wasn’t here when she needed me.”

  “Here?” Kira’s head spun with the announcement. “Please tell me you don’t mean right here, in this house.”

  “I haven’t been back since.”

  When he didn’t say more she started pacing and throwing out a litany of Italian dirty words. “You wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for me. This is my fault.” She ran to the windows, yanked the draperies out of the way and stared at the blizzard raging outside before turning to face him. “How long before we can leave?”

  “Probably a couple more days.”

  “Dalton, you shouldn’t have brought me here. You should have asked me first. Why doesn’t anyone think to ask me what I might want to do?” She probably would have thrown something his way if there’d been anything handy.

  “Do you think this was my first choice?” He stared at her and shrugged.

  “I would never, ever have asked you to do this.” Her voice trembled as she tried keeping the tears at bay. She shoved the computer into his arms on her way out the door. “If you believe nothing else about me, I hope you believe that.”

  Chapter 13

  Dalton couldn’t think with the overwhelming silence filling every inch of the bedroom he’d once shared with Lauren. It was also her favorite place to gather her thoughts and release her creativity. Her laptop sat next to him and he’d calmed down enough to at least consider Kira’s plea for him to read something important she’d found.

  She shouldn’t have touched it. She shouldn’t have even ventured to this part of the house. But as much as he’d like to blame everything on Kira, he was the one who’d brought her here in the first place.

  He had two clear choices. He could wallow in grief for the next few hours or he could do something to lessen the pain. He stared at the light pink computer case and rubbed his thumb across Lauren’s initials, etched in the lower left corner. Her journal had been something she had loved, and if he allowed himself the chance, he might be able to understand her reasons for giving up.

  Or he might have proof that her unhappiness was linked to him. That was an obstacle he had to overcome, the fear he needed to reach beyond. He opened the laptop and waited impatiently for the programs to load. His fingers were almost numb from his trip outside in the cold, plus the shock of finding Kira here. He had to snap out of it.

  He clicked the recent-history button and tried connecting to the last website Kira had viewed. Nothing. He checked for any downloaded files and saw rows of folders brimming with entries. Lauren always wanted to keep things fresh for the fans, so he’d expected to find a couple half-finished songs or maybe some ideas for future tours.

  He scrolled to the center of the list and opened one, feeling a strong connection to Lauren, along with an uncertainty that he had any right to view whatever she’d written, perhaps things she felt so important that she couldn’t share them with him. He released a breath as he read through an entry from two years ago,
when she’d been on a break from touring.

  I know my music is a gift, but it’s starting to feel like an obligation. Dalton reminds me I’m committed and I have to fulfill my contract, but Josh says I shouldn’t care about the money. If I had my way, I’d donate it all to music programs in the schools or maybe sponsor some kind of festival in Denver for aspiring songwriters.

  This was the Lauren he remembered, the one who was always happiest helping someone else. He checked the date—six months before Lauren’s death—and tried remembering if they’d been together or apart. He wasn’t sure, and it bothered him immensely that he’d forgotten the day-to-day life they’d shared. Her on the road. Him stuck in corporate meetings.

  He opened another folder and continued reading about Lauren’s life. Parts made his heart ache; other parts made him smile. It was a great compilation of the true Lauren. She loved performing, but sometimes she had to force the enthusiasm for all the extra music promotions.

  The common thread in almost everything he read was the mention of Josh’s name. He’d spent more time with Lauren than either one of them had ever let on.

  His brother and his wife had had an affair.

  Dalton read until the low-battery light flashed on the screen. The charger was in the office, and he intended to read all of Lauren’s entries before he turned in for the night. He inhaled another whiff of the air that still seemed to hold her favorite perfume.

  The weight in his chest lifted. He felt relief. Lauren had been having an affair.

  There was nothing to be gained by sharing the truth about her deception with anyone else. Kira already knew, but beyond the two of them, this secret would remain buried at the Matthews family cemetery. He would be a bit more direct with Tate, to find out how much he knew.

  But Dalton had to let it go. Lauren wasn’t in this room or roaming the house like a ghost. She lived inside his heart and she’d always be with him.

  Downstairs there was another woman who’d suffered more than her share of pain. Because of Josh’s deception and abandonment, Kira had never been allowed to grieve. She’d carried the blame for the failure of her marriage and the loss of her child.