Fatal Trust

by Diana Miller

  “Oh.” That was the only thing Lexie could get out as her body spasmed in the biggest orgasm of her life, uncoiling with a force that shook her. She felt like she was flying, sparks and heat erupting like the grand finale at a Fourth of July fireworks display.

  Ben moved up her body again and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips.

  Maybe it was just her competitive spirit, but she wanted to make him feel the same. “My turn,” she said, closing her fingers around him. He felt like hot iron.

  He grabbed her hand. “Not now, or this is going to be over too soon. And I need to be inside you.” He grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket, ripped open the package with his teeth, and put it on. Then he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. “Since you’re supposedly a stripper, I’d like a lap dance.”

  “I thought pole dancing was my specialty.”

  He grinned. “That works for me, too. And don’t tell me this isn’t the type of pole you meant.”

  She looked down at his erection and laughed.

  “Not the reaction I was hoping for,” Ben said.

  “You can’t pull off false modesty, so don’t bother trying.” He was definitely impressive. She ran one finger down him. “Although size doesn’t matter.”

  “And men like Hooters for their hot wings,” Ben said. “I heard that in a country song. That’s not really why men like Hooters.”

  “What a surprise,” she said, laughing again. Then she positioned herself, her body stretching and throbbing as she lowered herself onto him.

  She looked down into his eyes. They were dark, intense. “I’ve never seen anyone do a lap or pole dance,” she said. “What do I do next?”

  “Brace yourself on my shoulders.” His voice was a low rumble. “Then you move.”

  She leaned forward enough so she could rest her hands on his shoulders, and then flexed her knees as she moved up and down his length a few times. “Like this?”

  “Exactly like that.” He put his hand on her back and urged her forward so his lips could fasten on her nipple.

  She moved faster.

  He sucked on her nipple, and then caught it lightly between his teeth as he reached between them and rubbed her with the pad of his thumb. She could feel another orgasm building, building, then exploding inside her. She heard someone scream—it must have been her, although she’d never screamed during sex before. Ben bucked hard beneath her, and then pulled her down on top of him, her head resting on his chest.

  She had no idea how long they lay there, panting together, before Ben finally spoke.

  “I was right. You do a hell of a pole dance.”

  # # #

  “I need to shower,” Ben said, slipping out from under the covers a while later and grabbing his clothes. “I’m a mess from work.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I’ll be back soon.” He stood up beside the bed and grabbed his clothes.

  An alarm sounded somewhere in her brain, and she pulled the sheet over her. “I thought we were just doing it once to get it out of our systems,” Lexie said.

  “How’s that working for you?”

  “Not so well,” she admitted. She couldn’t remember sex ever being so hot and intense, which was surprising since she’d never laughed and joked during sex before. She’d always considered sex serious, but Ben had shown her it could be fun. That didn’t make it right, though. Actually, most things that were fun ended up being somehow bad for you.

  “We can’t keep doing this,” she said. She kept her gaze on his face, since looking at his muscular chest and equally impressive lower half might destroy her resolve.

  “Of course we can,” Ben said. “I’m a mechanic who loves living in a small town. You’re a Philadelphia lawyer. It would never work between us, which makes this perfect.”

  “Perfect?”

  “Yep.” He stroked her neck, raising goose bumps. “It’s more of your vacation mentality while you’re pretending to be Lexie.” He moved his fingers under the sheet and stroked her breasts. “View it as a vacation fling that we agree will end the instant you go home.”

  “I don’t have flings.” She could feel her resolve fading.

  “But I created Lexie, and trust me, she loves flings.” He leaned over and kissed her, making the last of her resolve evaporate. “Get some sleep until I get back. You’re going to need your energy. I’m not just creative when it comes to lines.”

  # # #

  “How would you like to go for an early morning sail on Forest Lake?” Ben asked.

  Lexie opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. Six minutes after five. It felt as if she’d just gone to sleep. Maybe she had—Ben was right about his creativity.

  “Isn’t it too dark to go sailing?” she asked.

  “The sun will be up soon,” Ben said. “There’s nothing like being on the water at dawn, the colors, the peace and quiet, everything. And I promised to take you out today.”

  What she’d really like was to spend more time in bed with Ben, but she didn’t want him thinking his skill had turned her into a nymphomaniac. His ego in that regard was big enough already. “Okay. I need to shower first.”

  “The boat’s in the storage shed, so it will take me at least half an hour to get it ready. Then I’ll come back and get you. That will also give you time to have coffee before we go.” He traced his finger around her nipple. It pearled immediately. “Unless you want to stay in bed. I’m up for that, too.”

  “I’d much rather go sailing,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Liar. I’ll see you soon.”

  # # #

  Lexie was downstairs in sixteen minutes, having showered, pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail, and dressed in nearly record time. Despite the little sleep she’d had, she was so wide-awake that for the first time she could remember she didn’t need caffeine to function. Good sex must be energizing.

  She was far too antsy to sit around waiting for Ben, so she decided to go find him. Maybe she could help with something. She went into the kitchen and grabbed one of the half-dozen flashlights she knew were kept in the pantry. After checking to make sure it worked, she headed for the front door.

  She stepped out of Nevermore into the pale gray coolness of early dawn, crossed the dewy grass, and then walked into the trees to the path that led to the lake. She’d been smart to bring a flashlight—the trees were so dense she definitely needed it. The springy ground, pine scent, and silence were relaxing muscles she hadn’t realized were tensed. She smiled faintly. Or maybe a night of terrific sex had done it. She’d forgotten how good sex could be, or maybe she’d never realized before today. Once she left Nevermore and reverted back to Catherine, she was going to have to work on a new relationship. She was never going without sex for long again.

  The world grew a little lighter, and she paused, looking up. The trees had thinned enough that she could see hints of sky, the gray now touched with pale pink. She was starting to understand why Max had been able to give up urban life for a place like this. She felt as if she were in a cathedral, the dimly lit silence peaceful. The kind of place that fed one’s soul.

  After a few minutes, Lexie reached the end of the trees. Directly ahead was Forest Lake, lapping gently against the shoreline. A loon trilled, followed by the caws of a couple of seagulls. Even more muscles relaxed. She was very glad she hadn’t insisted they stay in bed. She was looking forward to experiencing an early morning sail.

  She stepped out of the trees onto the rocky lakeshore—and froze, her blood icing to slush.

  Ben was there, and the sailboat was tied up to the dock. But he wasn’t getting the boat ready. Instead he was dragging something toward the open shed door.

  The body of Max Windsor.

  EPISODE 5

  CHAPTER 14

  “What in God’s name is going on?” Lexie got out between stiff lips. Her hand was shaking, her wobbling flashlight fixed on a dark stain on Max’s blue work shirt.

  “Help me get his body into the shed,” Ben said, s
till tugging at Max’s corpse. “Someone could come down here. I don’t want anyone stumbling over him before I figure out what to do.”

  “He’s been dead more than a week.” Lexie’s legs felt like giant ice blocks, too heavy to lift. “His body was incinerated. What is it doing here?”

  “He wasn’t dead,” Ben said. “He just pretended to be, hoping he’d be able to smoke out whoever made the two attempts on his life. I’ve been helping him. When I came down this morning, I discovered his body. I didn’t see it at first, not until I went out on the dock.” He pointed. “It was on the other side of those boulders.”

  “You can’t move his body.” Lexie’s brain had resumed functioning enough to know that. “We have to call the police. And an ambulance.”

  “I’ve already moved the body, and it’s too late for an ambulance. I need to think this through before the police arrive and mess things up. Give me an hour.” He held up a finger. “One hour. Please.”

  “I can’t.” She didn’t have her phone, so she turned and racewalked back to Nevermore, a hollow ache in her chest and gut. Max hadn’t been dead, but he hadn’t bothered telling her. He’d let Ben in on his joke, but Ben hadn’t bothered telling her, either.

  Except it was no longer a joke because Max really had been murdered.

  She ran into Nevermore and used the phone in the foyer to call 911. Then she went outside and plopped down on the front steps to wait.

  After a couple of minutes, Ben sat down beside her. “We need to talk about this.”

  She met his eyes, the man she’d thought she’d known and liked, the man she’d been so wrong about. Grief, shock, and anger had her insides quivering. “Not now. When the police ask if we’ve discussed it, I’d like to be able to truthfully say no. I’m sick of lying to everyone about who I am and why I’m here.” She turned her head, staring across the lawn. “But I guess I’m not the only one who’s been lying.”

  “I didn’t want to lie to you.” Ben rested his hand on her arm. “Grandfather—”

  “As I said, I don’t want to discuss this now.” Lexie shook off his hand, the emotions his touch elicited tangled and painful. She got up and walked over to her rental car, then stood leaning against it, her arms crossed. She couldn’t bear to look at Ben.

  # # #

  The police arrived twenty minutes later, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Two cars pulled to a stop in the driveway, then three uniformed men got out.

  “What’s going on?” one of the uniformed men asked as he approached Ben.

  “Thanks for coming, Jim,” Ben said. “Although isn’t this the sheriff’s jurisdiction?”

  “He’s on vacation for two weeks, so the Lakeview police are covering the county, too,” Jim said. “What happened?”

  “Someone shot Grandfather and left his body by the lake,” Ben said.

  “I thought he died in a car crash.”

  “He didn’t,” Ben said. “Follow me.”

  As Jim, Ben, and another cop walked back into the trees, Lexie plopped down on Nevermore’s front steps. She had no desire to see Max’s dead body again. When the other family members came outside, she referred everyone to the policeman stationed in front of Nevermore to explain what had happened. As they made their way en masse across the yard to the path, the peaches, tangerines, and roses of the dawn sky and the flashing red lights of two cop cars reflected off nightwear and pale, tense faces.

  When the family members emerged from the trees several minutes later, they all looked even paler and tenser. Cecilia was sobbing.

  “What’s your problem, Cecilia?” Dylan asked. “You already thought he was dead.”

  “I know it doesn’t make any sense for me to cry like this now. But seeing his body—” Cecilia broke off, wiping her face with her palms.

  “Jesus, Seth, don’t take a picture of her,” Dylan said. “It’s bad enough you took photos of Grandfather’s body.”

  “Sorry,” Seth said, setting down his camera.

  Actually, Cecilia’s tears made perfect sense to Lexie. What she couldn’t understand was everyone else’s lack of tears. Even if you already thought your grandfather was dead, wouldn’t you still be saddened seeing his murdered body? Her own eyes had certainly welled up once the shock had worn off. But no—the others’ main concern was likely whether this would restart the two-week period they had to stay at Nevermore to inherit.

  And one of them wasn’t a bit upset or even surprised to find Max’s body. One of them had killed him.

  Ben and the policeman he’d identified as Jim were also back in front of Nevermore. “Explain this to me, Ben,” Jim said, resting a pen on his clipboard. “I thought Max died in a car accident.”

  “That’s what we wanted everyone to think,” Ben said. “ Grandfather was convinced someone was trying to kill him. He figured pretending to be dead would help him figure out who.”

  “That sounds a little far-fetched.”

  “That’s what I said, but he was determined. You know Grandfather.” Ben shook his head. “When he built Nevermore, he put in secret passages, although I didn’t realize that until he told me a few weeks ago. He planned to sneak around and listen to what people were saying. He also appeared to people to make them think he was haunting them, hoping it might motivate someone to confess. Or to let something slip, something that indicated the person knew about the previous attempts on his life.”

  Jim stopped his note taking. “What previous attempts?”

  Ben explained.

  “What about the car crash?” Jim asked when Ben had finished.

  “I helped stage it,” Ben said. “I had someone teach me how to hack into Grandfather’s dental records, claiming Grandfather wanted to know how it was done so he could use it in a book. Once I could get in, I replaced Grandfather’s records with ones that conformed with a skull he’d bought years ago for research. We put the skull into the car before we burned it up.”

  “Max burned his Ferrari on purpose?” Jim asked.

  “He figured it was worth it to save his life. He could always buy another Ferrari.”

  “Then you just happened to stumble over Max’s dead body this morning,” Jim said.

  “That’s exactly what happened. I was going to take Lexie sailing.”

  “The Lexie who called to report finding Max’s body?” Jim asked.

  “That’s me,” Lexie said, approaching them. “Ben went down to the lake to get the boat ready. I got there about fifteen minutes later and found Ben with the body.”

  “What’s your last name?” Jim was taking notes again.

  “My nickname is Lexie, but my full name’s Catherine Alexandra Barrington. I’m from Philadelphia and was Max’s estate planning lawyer. I also represent First Trust in Minneapolis, the current trustee of his trust.” The charade had to end now. She had no choice.

  From the family members’ shocked expressions, no one besides Trey had suspected she wasn’t a cocktail waitress.

  “I thought you were Ben’s girlfriend,” Cecilia said.

  “After Max supposedly died in the car crash, he had Ben forward a letter to me claiming he’d most likely been murdered, and he wanted me to work with Ben to find out who did it,” Lexie told the cop. “I was pretending to be Ben’s girlfriend, hoping to get information.”

  “What did you learn?” Jim asked.

  “That everyone in the family had motive and opportunity. So far we hadn’t found any evidence as to who did it.” She shot Ben a withering look. “Probably because Max wasn’t even dead.”

  “I would have told you if I could, but Grandfather swore me to secrecy, Lexie,” Ben said.

  “Are you the only person who knew Max was alive, Ben?” Jim asked.

  “Besides his killer,” Ben said. “Grandfather was staying in a secret room, which he told me he’d had constructed when he built the house to give him a totally private place to write. The room is soundproof and has a bed, refrigerator, microwave, and bathroom. I left food and supplies f
or Grandfather in the armoire in his bedroom. He also left me messages in the armoire. I checked it twice a day, in the morning and right after dinner.”

  “Why didn’t you leave things in your bedroom?” Jim asked. “Or in his secret room?”

  “Grandfather was afraid someone might see me if I used the secret passages,” Ben said. “Or find things left in my room, since the master key kept in the pantry works on that door. The only room the master key can’t open is Grandfather’s bedroom.”

  “Who else knew about the secret room and passages?” Jim asked.

  “No one, not even Trey. Grandfather said the only person he told was Jessica Stuart, but she’s been dead for seven years.”

  “Eight years,” Lexie said. “She was my aunt.”

  “Where were you last night, Ben?” Jim asked.

  “Am I a suspect?”

  “You knew Max was alive, and you inherit from him once he’s dead.”

  “I don’t need his money.”

  “I hardly think even the outrageous salary you earned as an I-banker compares to what Grandfather left you,” Jeremy said.

  Lexie blinked. “You were an investment banker?” Had he told her the truth about anything?

  “Ben, do you have an alibi for last night?” Jim asked.

  “The mayor called with an emergency car repair while I was eating dinner,” he said. “I left the house around seven thirty and finished at eleven fifteen, which the mayor can confirm. I came back to Nevermore, stopped to check for messages in Grandfather’s bedroom, and then was about to open my bedroom door when Lexie stopped me. She said Grandfather had appeared to her.”

  “Max appeared to you?” Jim asked.

  Lexie nodded. “At eleven forty-seven. He said he really had been murdered and was counting on me to find out who did it.”

  “I went into her room to discuss it with her.”