The Soldier's Seduction

by Jane Godman

  With a laugh that ripped a hole in her heart, Walter pushed past Bryce and walked out of the room.

  * * *

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Steffi rested her forehead on Bryce’s shoulder as he came around the desk and knelt before her. “That’s why you asked if my eye condition was hereditary.”

  “I had a hunch, that’s all. I couldn’t come right out and tell you because it was too shocking.” He held her slender body against his own. “It was what he said about Ekaterina in the recording. He told Greg she hadn’t been loyal to him. When Greg questioned him, Walter didn’t answer, but it got me thinking about why he would expect loyalty from your mother.”

  “He didn’t show her any loyalty.” Steffi’s eyes were anguished as she raised them to his face. “No matter what they may have once been to each other, he murdered Ekaterina.”

  “What do you want to do now? You’ve just sustained a terrible shock. We can forget the rest of the plan, call Laurie up here, have her arrest you and get this whole mess over with.”

  He watched her face as she weighed the options. Then she straightened her spine. “No. Let’s do this the way we arranged it. I don’t want Walter to be able to wriggle his way out of another court case.”

  His heart expanded with love and pride. After what had just happened, most people would still be trying to pick themselves up from the floor. Not Steffi. She gave him a shaky smile, took a borrowed compact out of her borrowed purse, checked her makeup, made a couple of minor adjustments and got to her feet.

  “I’m ready.”

  When they left the office, Vincente was just outside with Toby Murray. Bryce had met Toby a few times at Cameron’s place and liked him. Another of the good guys. They needed all the help they could get. He doubted Walter’s men would be inside the building during a function of this type, but they wouldn’t be far away.

  Vincente avoided the main staircase, taking them down a back way that, judging by the brushes and buckets stored at the bottom, was used by cleaners. From there, he led them along a corridor and into the curtained area at the rear of the stage that occupied one end of the memorial hall.

  “Cameron is about to give his speech. The podium on which he’s standing is on the stage, directly in front of these curtains. You’ll be able to hear what’s going on from here without being seen. When the moment comes, all you need to do is simply step out from behind the curtains,” Vincente said to Steffi. He had spent the afternoon carefully choreographing the scene.

  “Once Cameron starts talking, we need to go,” Bryce said. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

  Steffi gave a soft laugh. “There are hundreds of people on the other side of that curtain. If Walter finds me and tries anything, I’ll come bursting right on through. It’ll be the most memorable fund-raiser this town has ever seen.”

  “I have a feeling that’s how it will turn out anyway.” They could hear the sound system being tested, then Cameron’s voice welcoming the guests to the fund-raiser. “That’s our cue.” Bryce pressed a quick kiss onto Steffi’s forehead. “See you on the other side.”

  With Vincente and Toby flanking him, he made his way to the edge of the curtained area, glancing back once at Steffi. In the high-ceilinged area, she looked tiny and so heartbreakingly beautiful. He wanted to turn back and wrap his arms around her, but Cameron had warned them his speech wouldn’t take long.

  Bryce could never enter the memorial hall without experiencing a feeling of awe. Apart from the fact that the hall was named after his great-grandfather, this was Stillwater at its best. Serving many different purposes, the huge room was used as a theater, function room and community hub. The decor was elegant with a tiled floor, plaster columns and chandeliers that harked back to another era. This was where Stillwater held its barn dances, rock concerts, bake sales and children’s Christmas parties. When part of the roof collapsed a few years ago, there had been talk of closing the place down. It was just too expensive to maintain, some people had suggested. Did a modern town really need a turn-of-the-century relic? Yes, it did. That had been Stillwater’s resounding response. Lose the Clarence Delaney Memorial Hall? It would be like ripping the heart out of the town.

  As Bryce walked in, he felt Cameron’s eyes flick to his face, even though his brother was getting into his speech. A quick glance around showed him Walter was standing close to the stage, looking up at the podium. Perfect. In one corner, a few members of the press were gathered. Newspaper reporters were recording Cameron’s speech, and the local TV station was filming him. Bryce nodded to Vincente, who moved into place by the sound system. Laurie was near the fire exit talking to Dino. Bryce and Toby remained in position by the closed double doors. There were no other exits.

  “We have with us tonight a man who needs no introduction.” The hall was crowded and Cameron’s voice carried through the microphone to every part of the vast hall. “Walter Sullivan—” he indicated Walter with a wave of his hand “—has made his Stillwater roots a central part of his bid to become a Wyoming senator. Decency, honesty, belief in family, loyalty and humility. Those, to me, are the values it takes to be a true son of Stillwater.”

  Cameron paused, ensuring he had the attention of every person in the room. “You have to hand it to him,” Toby murmured. “He knows how to do this for maximum effect.”

  “Tonight we have a special guest. Someone who is going to explain exactly why Walter Sullivan doesn’t demonstrate any of those values.” There was a murmur of confusion. A ripple of nervous laughter. People were looking from Cameron to Walter—whose face was shifting from smiley to thunderous—waiting for the punch line.

  Cameron stepped slightly to one side. “Our special guest, ladies and gentlemen... Anya Moretti.”

  As Steffi stepped out from behind the curtain, Bryce could hear the whispers from those closest to him.

  “Isn’t she the one who...?”

  “It can’t be? Can it?”

  He saw Laurie’s boss, Chief Wilkinson, across the room. The police chief didn’t make a move and Bryce guessed Laurie had already briefed him on what was going to happen. His sister-in-law would not have left the situation to chance and he offered up a silent thank-you for her organizational skills. Chief Wilkinson was due to retire in a few months and Laurie was widely tipped to be his replacement.

  Steffi waited calmly until the room was silent. She removed something from her purse and placed it next to the microphone. Even from a distance, Bryce could tell what it was. It was the photograph of Greg and Bliss. Steffi was doing this for them, as well.

  She looked stunning. Even in a gathering such as this, where everyone had gone the extra mile, her star quality shone through. Raising the microphone with an expertise born of many such occasions, she began to speak. “I probably don’t need to tell you the background to my story. Most of you will already know that, three months ago, an actor called Greg Spence was murdered in his Los Angeles apartment together with an unnamed woman and that I have been on the run from the police ever since.”

  Bryce glanced around. Most people were gazing at her as though struck dumb. The press contingent was going wild, many of them on their cell phones, doubtless trying to get this story to their national counterparts. And Walter? How was he taking this new development? After a quick glance at the exits, his face had settled into a mask of fury as he turned back to watch Steffi.

  “What you don’t know is that Greg Spence was my brother. His real name was Gregori Anton. My real name is Stefanya Anton. Our father was a Russian mob boss who was murdered, along with our mother, here in Wyoming, when we were very young. Greg and the woman who was with him—a bright, beautiful young woman called Bliss Burton—were murdered by the same man who killed our parents.”

  Steffi’s calm, beautiful voice, the voice that had graced dozens of popular movies, somehow made the words sound even worse
. As she finished speaking, Vincente started up the sound system and Walter’s voice took over through the speakers. The damning recording of his conversation with Greg filled the room. No one moved as they listened. No one commented. The TV cameras kept rolling and several of the reporters kept their phones trained on Walter’s face.

  When the recording finished, Steffi spoke into the microphone. “Walter Sullivan killed my parents. He killed Greg Spence and Bliss Burton.” She looked down at Walter’s upturned face for the first time. “I found out tonight that Walter Sullivan is my biological father. I’ve been fortunate. I’ve had two real fathers. Aleksander Anton did some bad things to other people, but he cared for me. Then a man called Todd Grantham took over and became my real dad.” There was a note of pity in her voice. “Walter wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.”

  It seemed to be the cue to galvanize Walter. Pushing past the people around him, he strode toward the doors. Bryce and Toby moved closer together, blocking his way. As Walter pulled a gun from his inside pocket, a woman nearby screamed.

  “You know I’ve been waiting for an excuse to kill you,” Walter snarled at Bryce. “Get out of my way.”

  “You seriously think that’s going to happen?” Bryce stepped forward to grapple with him. As he caught hold of Walter’s right arm, the other man ducked. Bryce muttered a curse and tried to land a punch that would knock Walter out. He wasn’t fast enough and the sound of the gunshot coincided with the searing pain in his left thigh. As his vision clouded, he was conscious of Vincente and Toby forcing Walter to the floor.

  Chapter 20

  Steffi had remained still with her head bent over the microphone as she gazed at the photograph of Greg and Bliss. She had played some emotional roles during her career, parts that had drained her and tugged at the depths of her comfort zone. But nothing had come close to the way that speech had made her feel. She knew why, of course. It was real and raw. Although keeping her cool had involved playing a part, the words had been the truth. She had just lowered the protective barriers around her heart and exposed her life to a room full of strangers.

  Gradually, she became aware of a scuffle taking place across the room. From her raised vantage point, she looked up just in time to see Walter pull a gun on Bryce.

  “No.” The word came out as a croak.

  Everything happened too fast. As Bryce stepped forward and grabbed Walter’s arm, Walter dodged out of his way. Even though he couldn’t raise the gun high enough to shoot Bryce in the head or the chest, he fired anyway. Steffi broke into a run as Bryce began to fall, her high heels slowing her down as she clattered across the stage, down the steps and through the horrified crowd. Bryce was unconscious when she reached him, an ominous pool of blood forming beneath his injured left leg. Vincente had Walter by the throat up against the wall, and Toby had removed the gun from his grasp.

  “Please...” Steffi looked around the faces that were crowding in on them as she cradled Bryce’s head on her lap. Where was Cameron? Laurie? Somebody who could help them? Sobs tore at her throat, making it difficult to get the words out. “He’s losing too much blood.”

  Leon dropped to his knees beside her, loosening his belt. “I need to apply a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.”

  As Leon got to work, Steffi felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw Laurie standing behind her with tears pouring down her face. “I’m sorry, Steffi. It’s time to go.”

  “No.” Steffi shook her head. “Not now. Please...not when I don’t know if he’s going to be okay.”

  “It’s the only way we can do this.” Laurie held out a pair of handcuffs. “I’ve informed the Los Angeles police that you are here in Stillwater, and they’ve instructed me to arrest you.” A sob escaped her before she got her voice under control. “Stefanya Grantham, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Gregori Spence. You have the right to remain silent...”

  The television news crew pushed its way forward as Steffi got to her feet. Laurie read her the rest of her rights and snapped the handcuffs closed.

  A microphone was thrust in her face. “Anya, do you have any comment to make about what just happened here?”

  She kept her head down, ignoring their questions. Leon was working on Bryce, tightening the belt around his thigh and giving orders to get everyone back out of his way. If only Bryce didn’t look so pale. If only he would open his eyes and look at her. If only she could tell him she loved him...

  Taking hold of Steffi’s upper arm with her hand, Laurie led her from the room. Chief Wilkinson accompanied them as they left the building. The shock hit Steffi at the same time as the night air. Cold, numbing sweat broke out all over her body and she began to shiver so violently her teeth chattered. The edges of her vision began to darken and she felt light-headed. The Stillwater Police Department was located in an annex to the main building and, as Laurie began to walk her along the path toward it, Steffi stumbled.

  “Easy.” Laurie caught hold of her, easing her down gently onto the low wall that bordered the path. Chief Wilkinson stood nearby. “Do you feel nauseated?”

  Unable to speak, Steffi shook her head. She didn’t know what she felt. Everything inside her had stopped working. Her thoughts were frozen. The only thing in her head was an image of Bryce lying on the floor, his face like marble, and that widening pool of blood around his leg.

  “Oh, dear God.” Without warning, everything started up again and crushing pain caught her in the chest. She doubled over, fighting to find her next breath.

  “Let’s get you inside.” Laurie slid an arm around her waist. “I don’t want the press coming after us.”

  She was barely aware of her surroundings as they led her into the police headquarters.

  “You need to get her into a cell. I’ve called Detective Wright and Deputy Marsh. They’re both on their way over here now. I’m going back over to the memorial hall to arrest Walter Sullivan.” There was a sympathetic note in Chief Wilkinson’s voice. “You don’t want her meeting him again tonight.”

  “I need to speak to the investigating officers in Los Angeles about what we do next.” Laurie’s voice was quiet. “Although they told me to arrest her, I’m not sure how they’ll want to proceed once they hear that recording.”

  “We are going to be under the spotlight over the next few days. Just play it by the book.” Steffi saw the chief’s big hand come down briefly on Laurie’s shoulder before he walked away.

  “I’m so sorry, Steffi.” Laurie took a set of keys from a cupboard behind the counter and led her to a cell. “At least I don’t have to pat you down. I know you can’t conceal anything under that dress.”

  The next few hours took on a surreal quality. There was a narrow bunk in the cell and a scratchy blanket that didn’t really keep her warm. Steffi removed her shoes and lay down, but her mind insisted on replaying the events of the evening on a continuous loop. Pacing up and down the cell didn’t help. She alternated between sitting and pacing until Laurie reappeared.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Bryce is alive. They’re operating on him now.” Laurie’s expression was grave.

  “What is it?” Steffi clasped her hands together so hard it hurt. “Tell me he’ll walk again.”

  “It’s not about Bryce. Before the chief got back to the hall, Walter managed to snatch his gun back from Toby. He killed himself, Steffi. Your father is dead.”

  Steffi was quiet for a few moments, absorbing what Laurie had told her. “No,” she said at last. “My father is Todd Grantham, and he has gone away for a few days.”

  Apparently satisfied that she would be okay, Laurie left her alone to several more hours of boredom. Dawn was making an appearance through the high, barred window of the cell when Laurie returned, by which time Steffi was close to delirium. Not knowing what was happening with Bryce, with the investigation, with anyt
hing, was driving her crazy. She judged about seven hours must have elapsed since she left the memorial hall.

  “I’ve been speaking to the detectives who are leading the inquiry in Los Angeles, and they have a few questions they want me to ask you.” Laurie led her to an office where a uniformed officer was seated behind a desk. “This is my colleague, Deputy Marsh. First of all, can I get you a coffee?”

  Steffi nodded as she took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. When Laurie handed her the plastic cup of coffee, she wrapped her hands around it gratefully. “Do I need my attorney present?”

  “Both your manager and your attorney arrived in Stillwater an hour ago,” Laurie said. “By all means, I can ask your lawyer to attend this meeting, but I’m pleased to tell you that you are no longer under arrest.” A smile lit her eyes. “I’m interviewing you as a witness in the murder of your brother and his girlfriend, Steffi. You are no longer a suspect. Once you have given me your statement, you are free to go.”

  * * *

  The pain in Bryce’s leg was nothing to the ache in his chest. During the operation, the surgeon had removed the bullet and pinned the bone in his thigh. Now he had a cage around it and, despite the painkillers, every movement was agony. Vincente had been at his bedside when he awoke and remained with him since. Bryce had come around from the anesthetic a few hours earlier and his first request had been for a TV set to be brought into his room. There was only one news story he wanted to watch.

  “Walter killed himself?” Bryce frowned as his befuddled brain attempted to process what he was hearing.

  “In full view of all the guests. The camera crew filmed the whole thing, but it was way too gory to be shown on TV.”

  “What happened to Steffi? Tell me she didn’t have to see that.” Bryce attempted to sit up straighter. The action sent a jolt of pain through his leg and he collapsed back again, a sheen of sweat coating his brow.