Stephen sat by the window, staring into space. All around him, the area was orderly. The bed was neatly made, personal items were arranged on shelves, and the room had a fresh scent. His brother wore casual slacks with a polo shirt and running shoes. By first appearance, he was the same as he’d been.
Then Stephen looked up, but didn’t recognize his own brother. Martin took a nearby chair, yet didn’t speak immediately. He studied his brother, considered handsome by many. With his good build and strong jaw, he probably was an attractive man even in his fifties. It had saddened his friends to hear about the early onset of Alzheimer’s.
Stephen had been charming enough to win Evelyn, the very woman Martin had hoped to gain the affections of. Evelyn Mayes, with her amber eyes and deep brown hair, had been a stunner. She’d had the figure of a goddess and the voice of an angel. And she should have been Martin’s.
It was probably the only time that he’d truly loved a woman. At first, she hadn’t realized it. Evelyn only had eyes for Stephen, and they’d married after a short engagement. Martin hadn’t forgiven him for that. Their first child Elizabeth Marie had arrived within a year, and Martin had despised even looking at the baby. His attitude towards Beth had wavered little since.
Of course, he’d pretended to have affection for his niece and was cordial to his sister-in-law, as he’d had to. But he hadn’t forgotten. Stephen had garnered all the good fortune. He’d done well in school, had many friends, and seemed to attract admiration without effort. Then their father had put the family’s shipping business in Stephen’s hands. That had been the ultimate insult.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” Martin managed a wry smile. “You don’t control it all anymore, do you?” There was a sense of satisfaction in that.
Stephen gazed into the distance, seemingly unaware of Martin’s questions.
“You know, I didn’t tell you this before…but I once tried to steal Evelyn away from you.” Martin chuckled. “Oh yes, it’s true. I confessed my love and offered her the world. I was wealthy in my own right, then.”
Stephen’s eyelids fluttered, as if he might drift off. Then he looked over at Martin, and his mouth moved as if to say something. But no words came. His expression was childlike.
“Do you know what she did? She mocked me…sweet Evelyn thought she was above consorting with me. She laughed in my face.” Martin clenched his fists. “She was loyal to you. Imagine that. She could have had so much if she’d accepted my offer.” He let out a heavy breath.
“Instead, she made me promise not to tell you what I’d proposed. ‘You’re brothers,’ she’d said, ‘and I wouldn’t want this to come between you.’”
Martin tossed his head back and laughed. “She was so good, better than any woman I’d known before or have met since. When she died…”
Martin put his hand on his brother’s knee. “You always had the best of everything. Now…it’s my turn.”
Stephen found his voice at last. “Who are… Do I know you?” His features clouded with confusion.
“I’m on my way out,” Martin said. He would make something of his life, and for once, his brother would be jealous of him. The fact that Stephen was disconnected from reality didn’t detract from the prospect. Over the years, Martin hadn’t received love from his family. His wife had abandoned him. No one had cared what happened to him. He’d had to make his own way, and that was exactly what he intended to do now. He was finished with settling for second best.
Chapter 8
Hotel security assured Wyatt that the cameras hadn’t recorded any footage of the attacker, or captured any scenes that corroborated the incident. “We don’t video in the stairwells, so any activity there wouldn’t be on record.”
Beth was interviewed and a report was made; the authorities would be informed. Calm had been restored to the premises. The bag that Beth had left in the empty chair on the terrace was miraculously returned to her undamaged.
The head of security guaranteed that it was safe now. Then the hotel concierge offered complimentary drinks at the restaurant, to express regret for the earlier inconvenience. Wyatt believed that the man who’d chased them was gone, at least for now.
A two-man security team served as an escort to the restaurant, then left Beth and Wyatt to enjoy the rest of their day. “A drink sounds pretty good right now,” Beth said, and took his arm.
“I’m all for unwinding while we let the crisis pass. It can’t hurt to delay going back outside. I’m confident we’re okay in here, and you could use the break.” Wyatt spotted a table near the back wall, where he’d have an unobstructed view of the entrance. The waitress followed with menus in hand.
This time there was no scenic view of the park, which was just as well. The table was in front of a wall decorated with cracked gold mirrors. It gave the illusion of space, but with the security of a solid wall to protect them. Beth sat in the padded leather booth, and Wyatt slid in across from her.
“A glass of Chardonnay, please,” Beth said.
“Coke for me.” Wyatt could use the caffeine.
When the waitress left, Beth let out a sigh. “I need that wine. My life is altogether too exciting at the moment.”
Wyatt admired her. Beth looked innocent enough, despite the ear piercing and the spiked hair. But she was strong-willed, a personality trait that hadn’t changed. “You’re still as tough as you were when we were teenagers.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“That’s how I meant it.” Wyatt liked being around Beth, and it reminded him of when they used to hang out together. “I remember that no one could bully you.”
Beth glanced away and ran her fingertips through her hair. “But someone would try, just like now. Either I appear to be an easy target or I’m a magnet for trouble.”
Wyatt wanted to put his arms around her, and tell her how great she was. “Neither one, as anyone coming after you gets more of a fight than anticipated. And you didn’t bring all of this on yourself.”
“How can you be so sure? You haven’t been around in a while.”
“I just know; that’s all.”
The drinks arrived and Wyatt pulled out his phone. “I’m going to check with Coop about those documents.” He sent a text, then received a quick reply that the encrypted documents had been securely delivered.
“We didn’t lose any evidence,” Wyatt said, and took a gulp of Coke.
Beth sipped her wine and looked over at him. Wyatt vividly recalled being alone in the hotel room, and the feel of her on his lap, with her arms around his neck. If she hadn’t leapt up, he might have kissed her. He glanced away, lest she sense his mood. Beth’s feminine scent had intoxicated him, and she’d still been breathing deeply from the run up the stairs. The physicality of it had turned him on.
“What are you thinking about?”
Wyatt turned to face her. “Just…things. I wondered why we didn’t do anything when we had the chance, before I went in the Navy.”
Beth twirled her glass. “As I recall, we chose to bicker or give each other a hard time—whenever you weren’t occupied with saving me from disaster.” She smiled. “Then you went off to college. I didn’t see you much.”
“I thought when I got out of the service that you’d be involved.”
Beth laughed. “But you didn’t call or anything.”
“I just assumed you’d fall into the hands of some wealthy guy.” Wyatt studied her.
“You’re hung up on the money.” Beth blushed. “I’d only marry for love.”
An awkward silence followed, and Wyatt couldn’t think of what to say.
Beth furrowed her brow. “So what’s your take on that fake security guy?”
Wyatt was glad for the change of topic. “Who hired him is the question.”
“I agree. I should have considered the surveillance system at Foster. My brother probably knows I was in his office with you copying data from his computer.”
“Or he was informed,” Wyatt said. “
I doubt he reviews the recordings personally. But I’m sure it’s no secret that you obtained damaging evidence.”
“There’s a concerted effort to make sure I don’t make use of it.” Beth drained her glass and lifted it to signal the waitress for more. “It makes me curious about how much more there is to find out. So far, what I have wouldn’t be enough to motivate my relatives to bump me off.”
“I can see wanting to keep you quiet, but there are less risky ways of forcing you to back off. Murder is a final solution. Whoever is willing to go that route is serious.”
The waitress dropped off a fresh glass of wine, and Wyatt ordered nachos with a Coke refill.
Beth smiled. “I’m glad you’re keeping your strength up.” She took a few sips of wine. “My uncle is up to something. He has been bleeding funds from the accounts, or as much as he probably thinks he can get away with.”
“So where is the money going? From what I saw of his house, he’s rich, same as he has been since I was a kid.”
“Things can change. Even a billionaire can go broke if investments are mismanaged. There’s definitely something we don’t know,” Beth said. “Our next step is to have a visit with my brother. He’s more likely to spill secrets. Then we’ll have more ammunition against my uncle.”
The nachos arrived and Wyatt dug in. Intrigue worked up his appetite.
“I wish my uncle hadn’t gotten involved at Foster. He can be intimidating, and I don’t think Kyle can stand up to him.”
“If Kyle knows we’re on his side, that might boost his confidence,” Wyatt said, and scooped a chip laden with cheese into his mouth. “When you talk to him this time, let me join in. You can press him, and I’ll be the good guy, understanding, sympathetic. We’ll work him until he folds and tells us what we want to know.”
“Uncle Martin made me look bad to Kyle. Now my own brother suspects me of embezzlement, but I can prove I didn’t do it. I didn’t have access to that stock account.” Beth looked thoughtful. “What I can’t figure out, though…is who wants me dead?”
*****
The stroll back to Beth’s house was uneventful. “The cleanup crew should be finished,” she said.
Wyatt stayed alert, but saw no one suspicious, nor any movement that was unusual. Tourists and locals filled the sidewalks, seeming intent on their destination. It was light outside, and it wasn’t far to her place.
There had been enough drama for one day. Wyatt wanted to get Beth home unharmed. He would have preferred to put his arm around her, even hold her hand, just to keep her close. But he didn’t have such privileges, and shouldn’t get distracted from the business at hand.
Beth walked next to him, barely reaching his shoulder. She was petite in stature, but strong in spirit. She was the kind of woman he was drawn to, one who wasn’t easily cowed, a woman who could stand up for herself. Yet he hadn’t met any such woman except Beth. She was special, but unfortunately, she wasn’t his.
At the residence, Wyatt shielded Beth while she opened the door. “I’d point out that you’re being overly cautious,” she said, “but I know better.”
The elevator opened onto the foyer and Beth stepped out. Order had been restored, leaving no sign of the earlier intrusion. “Thank goodness,” she said. “I feel better already.” She looked up at him. “What about that new security system?”
“Travis will have it installed tomorrow,” Wyatt said. “But I wouldn’t worry. The thief took what he wanted, so I doubt he’ll be back.”
“Well, I’m going to take a hot shower. All that running made me sweaty,” Beth said. “Then later we can go out for groceries and you can cook for me.”
Wyatt raised his brows.
“You claimed that you know how to cook, so I expect a delicious homemade dinner.” Beth disappeared down the hall to her room.
Wyatt could use a shower too, but delayed. There was no rush. Beth was bound to take longer to get ready than he would.
Grabbing the remote, Wyatt clicked to the news and plopped onto the sofa. He mindlessly watched as the newscaster droned on. He crossed one ankle over his thigh and leaned against the cushion, content to find out what was going on in the world.
He was about to switch to the sports channel when an image caught his eye, so he turned up the volume. The anchor reported on a recent subway accident. The police had just released the details.
Wyatt uncrossed his legs and leaned forward to get a good look. A blowup of one of the scene photos filled the screen. A woman had died after falling in front of a train, but that wasn’t what had his attention. The deceased wore a pink satin jacket, the type Beth was fond of. A close-up of the back showed a logo of an eagle. It was a vector image in gold, with rhinestones outlining it.
That eagle was the same as the one on the front of Beth’s sketchbook; Wyatt even remembered when she’d come up with the idea and what it symbolized. The reporter talked about the jacket and mentioned that it had belonged to Elizabeth Foster, heiress to the Foster International fortune. Then a photograph of Beth appeared on the screen.
Long after the reporter moved to other current events, Wyatt stared at the TV. Why was a dead woman wearing Beth’s jacket? It was too coincidental. His suspicions were confirmed. Beth hadn’t told him everything, not by a long shot.
Beth bounced back into the living room fully clothed, but barefoot, with her hair still wet. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then took a look at his face. “Did something happen? You have a strange expression.”
Wyatt was pissed. He’d done his best to keep her alive, yet she’d neglected to tell him the truth. “I’ll tell you what happened.” He stood, towering over her. “I just saw a dead girl on the subway tracks, wearing your jacket.”
Beth stiffened.
Wyatt leaned closer. “Would you care to explain that to me?”
Beth slumped into an armchair, looking defeated. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I guess…I was afraid that you wouldn’t help me.”
That made him more furious. “You were afraid that if you told me there had been a murder, I’d turn the other way?”
“I just… It was all so confusing.” Beth put her hand over her eyes. “I wasn’t sure what to do.”
Wyatt sat on the ottoman in front of her. “I’m listening.”
Beth uncovered her eyes and looked directly at him. “I’d just been defamed by my uncle, booted from my job, and then…Amanda gets killed. It was terrifying.” She proceeded to relay every detail, focusing on the stranger who followed her and pushed her friend to her death.
“Why did the police take so long in reporting it?”
“The police were there right away, but Thomas met me at the station and did his best to keep the media out of it.”
“I’m amazed that he kept the press quiet this long,” Wyatt said. “So who wanted to kill Amanda?”
Beth shook her head. “That’s what I thought at first, too…or tried to believe. But we looked so much alike. With my jacket on, I think the killer made a mistake. He’d really been after me.”
Wyatt’s blood boiled. “Damn…you were in lethal peril and you chose not to share that information?” It boggled his mind.
“My friend died.” Beth was choked up. “I feel so guilty; it should have been me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped at them with her sleeve. Wyatt pulled her into his arms, and let her cry until his shirt was soaked. He was furious, but he couldn’t stand to see a woman cry.
When Beth calmed down, Wyatt released her, and she slumped against the chair.
“I flew to LA the next morning,” Beth said. “I couldn’t process it all, so I decided to keep quiet until I could figure something out. You were the only person I could turn to. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone else.”
Wyatt shook his head. “This amps up the danger. If your brother or your uncle were involved, broadcasting the incident makes it worse. The reporter didn’t give specifics of your involvement, but flashing around a picture of Amanda w
earing your jacket is enough. It’s not much of a leap to make the connection.”
Beth wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m glad that you finally know about the accident. I asked Thomas to keep it out of the news as long as he could, but I knew that wouldn’t last. And I was terrified of what would happen.”
“Now it’s out. The press will be after your family for a statement,” Wyatt said. “What a mess.”
“It won’t be any surprise to the man who is after me. He must have known right away that he’d killed the wrong woman.”
“Yes, that explains the knife attack; the killer intended to finish the job.” Wyatt let out a deep sigh. “And he won’t stop now, whoever it is.”
Beth looked up, her eyes dry but a bit red.
“Don’t keep anything from me again,” Wyatt said. It was damned important that he knew everything.
Beth stood up and glared down at him. “The next time some creep kills a friend of mine…right in front of me…I’ll be sure you’re the first to know.” She stomped off and slammed the bathroom door.
She still had a hot temper, but Wyatt didn’t care. Her life was at stake and he wasn’t sure he could trust her. Agitated now, he paced the floor. He had to be more alert, more on top of things. A mistake could get Beth killed.
While Beth finished getting ready, Wyatt snooped around. Maybe the intruder had missed something. What else was Beth hiding from him? He was ticked off that he’d been left in the dark. Beth could be difficult to handle sometimes; that was one thing that hadn’t changed. He lacked confidence that she would confide in him from now on. He imagined the worst, but couldn’t help it.
The place was orderly now, with magazines stacked neatly and items arranged on shelves. Wyatt didn’t spot anything that looked out of the ordinary; it was all normal household stuff. He went to the library and searched her desk drawers. Mostly it was papers, pens, and paper clips, some junk.
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