Deception

by Carolyn Haines

Richard didn’t reply for a long moment. He continued to walk beside Connor. “She’s a lot smarter than most people would ever imagine. ‘Cunning’ may be a better word. I wondered about this at lunch today. There were several times I saw her looking at you …”

  Connor stopped. Richard was actually scaring her. The hair on her arms was standing on end. “Then you don’t think I’m crazy?”

  “Not at all. There was one time when I was visiting that Talla warned me about Renata. She was laughing, but she said for me to watch my back, that Renata didn’t like me coming to Oaklawn and that she’d do whatever she had to do to keep me away. It was as if the child wanted Talla all to herself. Now she may have transferred that need to Clay.”

  “Which is exactly why I won’t be run off,” Connor interrupted. “If she’s allowed to accomplish this, what’s next?”

  “That really isn’t your problem, Connor. What should matter to you is that you lead a happy, safe, and sane life. You have dreams. You have talent. You don’t need a man who mainlines political ambitions, or his psychotic children.”

  Beneath the fear that danced down her skin, Connor felt a core of something else. She gave Richard a lopsided grin. “As strange as it’s going to sound to you, I do need Clay. The woman who never needed anyone now finds that she does, after all.”

  Richard’s gray eyes deepened as he searched Connor’s face. “You honestly love the bastard, don’t you? I mean really once-in-a-lifetime, grand passion, knock-your-socks-off, till-death-do-you-part, love him.”

  “That pretty well describes it.” Connor’s smile widened a little. “It makes me feel so vulnerable to say it. I haven’t told anyone but you.”

  Richard took her shoulders and swung her around to face him. There was no matching pleasure in his face. “I’m afraid for you, Connor.”

  “Why?” She tried to keep the pulse of fear out of her veins. Richard looked … distraught. Genuinely distraught. And she wanted him to be happy, to share her delight.

  Richard searched for words. “I love you, Connor. Not as a lover, but as a friend, so I’m not jealous of your feelings for Clay.”

  “I know that,” she said impatiently.

  “I just want to make it clear. Clay is one of the most dynamic men I’ve ever known, and I’m not going to say that he’s responsible for any of the things that have happened, but you have to admit that the women he gets involved with suffer. All of them. Without exception.”

  “I’m not certain that’s Clay’s fault,” Connor said stiffly. She tried to turn away from Richard, but he held her.

  “I didn’t say that it was, and from where I stand, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to argue who’s to blame and who isn’t. What matters is that women who spend too much time with Clay pay a heavy price.”

  “Like Talla?”

  “Like his dead wife, exactly.”

  “From what I hear, she spent more time with every stud she could find than she did with her husband or her children. I could make a difference to those kids, Richard. Danny already cares for me. Renata could learn to. They need someone to bring some stability into their lives. And Clay, too. He’s been starved for affection. He’s the kindest, most generous man I’ve ever met.”

  “I won’t argue those things. But his wife is dead. A young girl back in high school disappeared without a trace. She got a little too close to a claim to the Sumner hearth, and bingo, they ‘disappeared’ her.”

  “Willene told me about that girl. That wasn’t Clay’s fault. If anything happened to her, it was Clay’s father who had it done.”

  “Does that make a difference to the girl?” Richard was almost shouting, and his grip on her arms tightened cruelly. “If she’s dead, does it matter to her who ordered her execution?”

  Connor jerked free. “Stop it! Stop it now, Richard!” She felt her chest heaving in and out. She was more frightened than angry. “You have no right to imply such things. Clay is your friend. He’s never said anything but kind things about you. In fact, of all the people in Mobile, Clay has been the one to stand up for your right to pursue the career you love. And there’s no proof that anything happened to that girl. None!”

  “Connor, I’m not belittling Clay! I’m only trying to make you realize that this is a dangerous situation. Someone is trying to hurt you. And I believe it’s because of your involvement with Clay Sumner.”

  His words penetrated the icy chill of her fear. “Who do you think it is?”

  “Renata, possibly—but she has to have some grown-up help, don’t you think?”

  The image of the young woman standing at the foot of her bed came to her so clearly that she gasped. Could that have been Renata’s accomplice in the game? It was too farfetched to consider. She was beginning to sound as irrational as Richard. “This has gone far enough. You’ve actually got me thinking that an eleven-year-old child might be deliberately trying to kill me.”

  “Maybe not kill, maybe just frighten away. But that’s my point—you could have been killed today. Maybe the intent was that you fall and break an arm or a leg. But you might have broken your neck. You could have killed yourself tripping down the stairs. Or worse, you might be lying in a hospital bed this minute, paralyzed from your neck down, all of your dreams shot to hell.”

  Everything Richard was saying was true. Connor knew it, but she rejected it. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” she said quietly.

  “Dammit, Connor, that’s because you’ve been lucky. But your luck may not hold out forever.”

  “So you want me to turn tail and run? I think you know me better than that.”

  “I curse the day I mentioned your name to Clay Sumner. I curse myself for not telling you about his sexually crazed, insatiable wife who died swinging from the rafters,” he pointed across the orchard, “in that barn. I curse this inbred, incestuous place that twists people to the point that they’ll do anything for a name or a scrap of power. And I wash my hands of any responsibility for what happens to you.”

  He turned his back on her and walked away, his feet scrunching through the leaves.

  Connor watched him go. She thought to call him back, to tell him something that would stop him from leaving angry, but there was nothing she could say. She was not leaving Oaklawn. Clay needed her. Danny needed her. And Renata, too. Renata more than anyone.

  She felt the tears on her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Damn you, Richard,” she whispered. “I need a friend, and you’re walking away.”

  Overwhelmed by a feeling of complete desolation, she went down to the barn. Apollo needed work. There were stalls to clean, tack to oil, jumps to set up, and feeding schedules to revise. If she worked at it, she’d find no time for self-pity or self-doubt. The only bright spot was that Clay would be back at Oaklawn for dinner. He’d promised. Then she could decide whether to tell him about the girth.

  With a few minutes to spare between her bath and getting dressed for dinner, Connor was stretched out on the bed when she heard soft footsteps outside her door. Her reaction was instantaneous. Heart pounding, she rolled to the left, dropping on her hands and knees beside the bed. The movement was purely instinctive, a survival impulse.

  “Connor?” Sally’s soft voice called to her as she tapped on the door. “Mr. Clay wants to speak with you on the telephone.”

  Feeling like the biggest fool in the world, Connor scrambled to her feet and threw her robe on. She’d heard the telephone ring. There was an extension in her room, but since no one ever called her, she never bothered to answer it.

  “Thanks, Sally,” she called. “I’ll pick it up here.”

  “Willene asked me to ask you if you’d like some port or a drink before dinner. She said it might relax your muscles.”

  “No, thanks,” Connor said. So, Willene had been taking in her cautious movements all afternoon. Connor had tried to hide her sore muscles, but she hadn’t been very successful. Luckily, everyone attributed it to her tumble down the stairs. No one, ex
cept for Richard and the person who’d cut her girth, knew about her fall. “I’ll be down to eat, and I’ll have some wine with dinner.”

  “Okay.” Sally’s footsteps were hurried as she took off down the stairs. Connor had the mental picture of her taking them two at a time. The girl had no love for the stairs or the hallway, and after her trip down them headfirst, Connor understood Sally’s feelings completely.

  She picked up the receiver, thinking maybe that Richard had called Clay and told him about the girth against her wishes before he went back to Hollywood. “Hello, this is Connor.”

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  Clay’s voice made her stomach clench. “I thought you’d be on your way to Oaklawn by now.” She tried not to let her disappointment show. But as she’d lain on her bed, she’d been counting the minutes until it was time for Clay to come home.

  “I’m at the office still, and I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Benedict, my campaign manager, is coming to pick me up in fifteen minutes. We’re taking a flight out of Brookley Airfield to Emelle.”

  “Where’s Emelle?”

  “The better question is what is Emelle, and it could be a disaster for me, politically, if I don’t get up there and check some facts out.”

  “What’s happening?” Connor was completely lost.

  “Emelle has a waste-disposal plant there, and it’s come to my attention that some nuclear waste from the North, and possibly some chemical waste from the Midwest has been dumped there.”

  Connor didn’t follow. “That’s bad news, but how does that involve you?” Clay’s term as a state senator had been up for at least three years.

  “It could be bad, Connor. There are rumors flying around that when I was in the state senate I gave permission to these out-of-state companies to dump their waste on Alabama soil. That I did it for campaign contributions.”

  “Clay!” She understood completely now. “Why would they say that?”

  “It’s been cleverly orchestrated. My opponent, or I should say, the man who will be my opponent when he declares, claims that he has documents with my signature showing I took money from these companies. He’s asked for a private meeting in Emelle, which is a little town on the western border of the state. The gist of his offer is that he won’t ruin me if I tuck my tail and don’t declare as a candidate for this Senate race.”

  “That’s out-and-out blackmail!” Connor was outraged.

  “Even worse, it’s a complete lie. Whatever documents they have are fabricated.”

  “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” Cool relief touched Connor.

  There was silence on Clay’s end of the phone. “It isn’t that simple, sweetheart. This seat is crucial to the Republicans, especially with a Democratic president in office. The power of the Senate could very easily swing on which party wins this seat in Alabama. Sam Black was a very powerful Democrat. His death has left a big vacancy, and a seat the Republicans want very badly. They have a lot of money, and they’re capable of almost anything. They have more dirty tricks than a snake has twists.”

  “But you just said the documents were fakes. All you have to do is show that …”

  “Listen, I have to go up there and take a look at what they claim to have. I’ll be able to decide what to do after that. I’m afraid this is going to get very nasty, Connor. This is only the beginning of what they’re going to try to do to me. I haven’t even officially declared my candidacy yet.”

  “What are you saying, Clay?” Her entire nervous system was strumming like a piano wire.

  “We’ll talk when I get home. I’m planning on seeing them tonight, and then heading for Montgomery. If Benedict thinks it’s necessary, I might have to go to Washington. This is the worst possible time, with you feeling bad after your spill down the stairs. I know you need some comforting and attention. If there was any way to avoid this trip, I would, but I can’t.”

  Connor felt as if she’d been slapped, but she was determined not to show it. “Good luck, Clay. And don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than you think. The fall only made me sore. If there’s anything I can do on this end, call me.”

  “I love you, Connor. I’m sorry. Keep an eye on those children for me, and explain to them what’s happened.”

  “I love you, too. And don’t worry about things here.” She heard the click on his end of the line and she replaced her receiver. Without thinking, she went to the closet and selected clothes. Numbness had crept over her entire body, and that was the way she wanted to keep it. Just move, keep moving. She brushed her hair and went down to dinner. Renata wasn’t going to like the news, but there was little she could do about it.

  Throughout dinner, Danny kept the table from silence. Connor, on one side, and Renata, on the other, pushed the food around their plates and tried to converse. When the meal was finally over, everyone got up with a sigh of relief.

  Renata had taken the news of her father’s business trip with less angst than Connor had anticipted. The children seemed more tired than upset, and it was with relief that Connor turned off the lights in the den and library and started up to bed after the children. Clay’s news, on top of the events of the past forty-eight hours, had taken its toll. She felt nerveless, boneless, unable to think. Sleep was the only thing that promised any relief.

  The stairs were endless, and Connor felt as if she needed to sit down and rest when she got to the top. Instead, she inserted her key and pushed the door to her suite open.

  “Jesus Christ!” The image of the man reflected in the mirror made her jump backward into the hall. She recognized him in the next second, and felt a tidal wave of anger sweep through her.

  “What are you doing in my rooms?”

  “The door was open, so I came in to wait for you to finish dinner and come up here.”

  The thump of her heart was a clear signal of her anger. The first wave of fright had passed. “You have no business in my rooms. Get out!”

  “Spoken like the true lady of the manor. That is what you hope to be, isn’t it? You aren’t here for the good job and exorbitant salary, you’re here for the long haul. You’re here with the intention of becoming Mrs. Clay Sumner, aren’t you?”

  “Get out!” Connor swung the door open and pointed down the stairs. Clay’s brother only chuckled.

  “How dramatic, my dear. Living in this big old hulk of a house must have given you some airs. The only problem is that this is my house, too. One of those old southern habits, leaving the estate to both children. That way, you can make them rivals and get them to hate each other even more than they normally would.”

  “Take this up with Clay at a later date. For now, get out of my rooms.”

  “Where is the dear boy?”

  Connor realized that storming at Harlan was going to have no effect, except maybe to rouse the rest of the household, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  “He’s in Emelle.”

  “I told him those contributions were going to come back to haunt him.” Harlan tsk-tsked. “When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.”

  “Whatever you’re implying, I know Clay didn’t take money to let some company pollute this state. He cares about Alabama.”

  “It’s a pity,” Harlan grinned, as he patted the sofa beside him. “You’re completely won over by Clay. If he could screw every woman in the state, he’d win this election by a landslide.”

  “You’re one of the most disgusting people I’ve ever met.” Connor’s voice was controlled and very soft. “I don’t know how you can be related to Clay.”

  Harlan laughed out loud. “The problem with a woman like you is that you expect more than a few easy months. That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”

  “Harlan, get out of here.” Weariness was nipping at Connor’s soul. She didn’t want to argue with him, he was just too nasty for her.

  “No, Connor darling, you’re the one who’s going to leave. I just
came by to see how much it was going to cost, this time.”

  “When my contract is up, I’ll leave, if that’s what Clay wants.”

  “You’ve developed into a real liability. If Mitch Wolfe is already bringing out the Emelle situation, he won’t hesitate to blast Clay with a morals campaign. And you’re the silver bullet, Connor. You can go straight into Clay’s political heart and kill him dead.”

  “I’m not going to talk about this with you, Harlan. If Clay has a problem, he can talk with me.”

  “How about fifty thousand, right now, in cash, and you pack up and leave before he gets back?”

  Connor pointed to the door. “Go.”

  “Sixty thousand. That’s a good stake for your little horse farm. And I know a guy in Louisiana who’ll help you setup. Racing is legal there, thoroughbred and quarterhorse, take your pick. There’s also a big hunter-jumper crowd.”

  Connor rubbed her forehead. “If you weren’t so pathetic, I’d be angry. Now go, before I call Clay and tell him about this.”

  Harlan got slowly to his feet. “You think you love him, Ms. Tremaine, but let me assure you, you don’t have a clue to Clay. Once you finally see him without that charming facade of his, you’ll leave here screaming. Until that time, see if you can convince him to keep his pants zipped, unless you’re certain that no one can catch you. No unwanted photographs or pregnancies. Clay has never been discreet. That’s because I’ve always been able to clean up behind him. But I’m tired of it. And by the way, if you aren’t on some kind of protection, let me know. For your sake, and the baby’s. Pregnancy isn’t a trap that works well with Clay.”

  Connor pointed at the door. She was too sick, too disgusted, to say another word. Without waiting for Harlan to leave, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door. Leaning back against it, she felt nausea strike. She pressed her back and hands to the door, waiting for the sickness to pass. When she could open her eyes without getting dizzy, she went into the bathroom, put a clean cloth under the cold tap, and went to bed with the cloth over her neck.

  Her very bones felt as if they weighed five hundred pounds, and her heart was a rock that was too large for her chest. She didn’t believe a thing Harlan had said. Not a single thing. No facade covered Clay. And no matter what Richard said, Clay wasn’t in the habit of making women suffer. There was a point where the woman had to assume some responsibility for her actions. Talla had given as good as she’d gotten.