"It's possible that we aren't dealing with a totally rational person," Morgan said. "Don't forget that whoever killed Jimmy had no problem letting you take the rap for the murder. They might have even set you up to take the fall."
"It's obvious that whoever killed Jimmy wanted to see me convicted of the murder?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. They've killed once and tried to kill a second time. There's no reason to believe they wouldn't try again, if in their warped mind, they had a reason."
Within fifteen minutes, Morgan parked his Ferrari in the WHNB parking lot. They caught Tony Hayes and Vivian Crosby just as they were leaving.
Tony Hayes halted on the sidewalk, his body tensing when he saw Bethany and Morgan. Then he flashed them his brilliant, for-my-TV-fans smile.
"Well, why am I not surprised to see you two show up here?" Tony asked sarcastically.
Tony reminded Morgan of a television evangelist—smooth, slick and charismatic, with a touch of country-boy charm. Morgan's tried-and-true instincts warned him that Hayes was probably his father's son in every sense of the word.
Vivian glared daggers at Morgan. "Wasn't it bad enough that the police were here all morning, questioning us, putting everyone through the third degree?"
Vivian Crosby had probably never been pretty. Her nose was too big and her jaw too square for classic beauty. But Morgan guessed that ten years ago, before she'd let her bosomy figure expand, she might have been sexy. With her frosted platinum hair, bright red lipstick and heavy makeup she resembled a middle-aged Kewpie doll.
"I'm afraid I need to ask y'all a few more questions," Morgan said. "Would you mind if we used your office, Tony?"
"We don't have to answer any of your questions," Vivian said. "You can't make us cooperate with you."
Tony grasped Vivian's elbow. "Now, Viv, if you act like that, Mr. Kane will think we have something to hide." Tony opened the glass door leading to the studio lobby, gave Vivian a gentle push inside and then held the door open for Morgan and Bethany.
Tony showed them into his office. Bethany hesitated momentarily in the doorway. "When did you move into Jimmy's office?" she asked.
"A couple of days ago," Tony said. "After the station had new carpet installed. Bloodstains don't come out very easily."
"I wish you wouldn't mention the bloodstains," Vivian snapped. "I keep seeing Jimmy lying there on the floor in a pool of blood." Whirling around, she gritted her teeth and glowered at Bethany. "Why did you have to kill him? He was very fond of you, you know. He talked about you a lot."
Bethany shivered at the memory of how much and in what way Jimmy Farraday had liked her. She would never forget having to fight him off only a few short months after he married her mother. If her knee hadn't made contact in just the right spot, enabling her to escape, Jimmy would have raped her that night.
"Won't y'all have a seat?" Tony indicated the chairs in front of his desk.
Morgan assisted Bethany into a red vinyl chair, then sat down beside her. "We're not here to discuss Farraday's murder," Morgan said.
"I suppose you're trying to find a link between Jimmy's murder and the attack on Linc." Tony shook his head, not a strand of his lacquer-coated black hair moving. "I can no more imagine anyone harming Linc than I could imagine someone killing Jimmy." Tony gazed directly at Bethany. "A person would have to be filled with hate to do something so terrible."
Vivian stood ramrod straight, her hands clutched in front of her in a prayerful gesture. Tony sat down in the enormous swivel chair behind Jimmy Farraday's desk.
"What about you, Tony?" Morgan focused his gaze on the man he questioned. "Would a man hate a father who had deserted him before he was born? Hate him enough to kill him?"
Tony's face flushed. His jaw tightened. And then suddenly he smiled. His whole body relaxed. "So, you've unearthed my little secret. I suppose it was only a matter of time until the truth came out."
"What are you talking about?" Vivian snapped her head around and glared at Tony.
"It seems Mr. Kane has discovered that Jimmy Farraday was my biological father."
"Jimmy was your—" Vivian stared round-eyed and open-mouthed at Tony. "Why … why didn't you ever tell anyone? Did Jimmy know? Of course he knew. That's why he took you under his wing. Oh, Tony, no wonder his death has been so difficult for you."
"Did you hate Jimmy Farraday?" Morgan rephrased his original question to Tony.
"Hate Jimmy? Good Lord, man, I loved Jimmy." Tony closed his eyes. "He was my father and my best friend." One lone tear trickled down Tony's cheek.
"Are you saying that you had no hard feelings toward a man who you before you were born and never tried to contact you?" Morgan asked. "A man who gave his name to another son? A man who left a million dollar insurance policy to that son?"
"My parents were very young and they made a mistake," Tony said. "Yes, naturally, I felt some bitterness toward my father, but once I found him and he welcomed me into his life and found a place for me in his heart, it was easy to forgive him."
"Why didn't Farraday ever publicly recognize you as his son?"
Morgan watched Tony carefully, catching the barely noticeable way his body tensed, the telltale tightening of his jaw. Tony clutched his left hand into a fist, then released it, and repeated the process several times.
"It was something we discussed, but decided it would serve no purpose other than to sully Jimmy's reputation."
Bethany could not repress the loud "Ha!" that burst from her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said. "But Jimmy Farraday's personal reputation was that of a lying, cheating, womanizing bastard."
"And that's why you killed him, isn't it?" Vivian said. "Because you were jealous that other women adored him. You wanted him all to yourself. I know about you and Jimmy. He told how you wouldn't leave him alone." With outspread, clutching hands, Vivian sprang at Bethany, but Morgan restrained her. She fell apart, crumpling over into Morgan's arms like a rag doll. He eased her down into the chair he'd just vacated. Covering her face with her hands, Vivian wept uncontrollably.
Bethany almost felt sorry for Vivian. Her actions clearly showed her deep love for Jimmy Farraday. But a person could both love and hate at the same time. Her love for Jimmy wasn't proof that she didn't kill him.
"Look, I know you're trying to do your job, Kane," Tony said. "You're doing everything you can to prove that someone other than Bethany killed Jimmy. Well, I wish you luck. I'd like to think Bethany didn't kill my father, but… Look, poor Vivian has been through enough lately. I'm afraid finding out that someone tried to kill Linc this morning has sent her over the edge."
Tony got up, rounded his desk and put his arm around Vivian's plump shoulders, consoling her with gentle little pats.
"Where were you two this morning when Prescott was attacked?" Morgan asked.
Gasping loudly, Vivian looked up at Tony. "Is he insinuating that you or I tried to kill Linc?"
"Yes, I do believe he is," Tony replied.
"Where were y'all?" Morgan repeated.
"I'll tell you what we told the police," Tony said. "We were both at our apartments, in bed, asleep. Weekend mornings are the only mornings that we get to sleep in. The rest of the week, we're up before four o'clock and at the station by five."
"Last night, y'all were here working very late on some sort of tribute show in Farraday's memory," Morgan said. "Just how late was it when everyone left?"
"Why don't you talk to that Detective Varner?" Wiping her tearstained face, Vivian smeared her heavy makeup. "We've gone over these same questions with him time and time again. We left here right after midnight, just as soon as Detective Varner finished grilling us about someone trying to run you two off the road in James's stolen car."
"While James and I were at police headquarters last night, Hal Varner filled me in on the results of his questioning everyone here at WHNB." Morgan's lips curved into a smirky grin. "It seems you both had alibis. Tony, you were having an intimate dinner at your apartment
with someone you barely knew, a lady whose last name you can't seem to recall, therefore the police can't find her to verify your story. And Vivian, it seems that a little before nine last night, you had a sick headache and had to come in here, in Jimmy's office, and lie down. You were all alone for over an hour. No one saw you from nine o'clock until after ten."
"I think it's time for you and Bethany to leave." Huffing out his chest, Tony glowered at Morgan. "Neither Vivian nor I have done anything wrong, and there's no reason for us to endure any more of this cross-examination."
"Fine." Morgan glanced at Bethany, who nodded and immediately stood. "Just remember one thing. There's a good chance that Linc Prescott will come out of his coma and be able to tell us who tried to kill him."
Without another word, Morgan whisked Bethany out of Tony's office, down the corridor and out into the lobby of WHNB. Once outside, he slowed his gait and eased his fierce hold on Bethany's arm.
"Someone is lying." Blood rushed through Morgan's body, pumping quickly through his heart. Anger welled up inside him, threatening his cool control. He never allowed emotions to cloud his judgment, never allowed his heart to interfere with his actions. But dammit, he couldn't remain an impersonal investigator in this case. It just wasn't possible.
"Neither of them really has an alibi for the time James's red Porsche ran us off the road." Bethany allowed Morgan to help her into his Ferrari.
He got in on the driver's side and sat there for a few minutes. "Tony or Vivian or Seth killed Farraday. And whoever killed Farraday stole James's car. Linc Prescott saw who took the Porsche, and our killer knew Prescott could identity him—or her—so he had to silence Prescott."
"Not Seth."
"We don't know what time Seth left Eileen's this morning, and we don't know for sure he went straight home."
"I refuse to believe it was Seth," Bethany said. "Even if he had killed Jimmy, he would never have tried to hurt me. But I think Tony is capable of just about anything. He's that much like Jimmy. And Vivian hates me enough not only to want to frame me, but to kill me."
"My instincts tell me that it's going to come down soon," Morgan told her. "A few days. A few weeks. Even sooner, if Prescott comes out of the coma."
"After I finish getting everything ready at the boutique for tomorrow afternoon's fashion show, I'd like to stop by the hospital and visit Lisa for a while this evening. And then maybe we can drop by the ICU and check on Linc."
* * *
Bethany stood in front of the open French doors that led to a small private patio off the side of the den at Claudia Kane's home. Sunset burned into the sky with hot, vibrant, multicolored flames, searing the blue with red and orange. A cool evening breeze trickled across Bethany's skin like invisible fingertips caressing her. She breathed in the fresh night air, crisp and chilly, edged with the promise of autumn soon to come.
A deep shroud of sadness draped around her, weighing her down, warning her that the end was near. Her life had changed so quickly, going from peaceful contentment to erratic, pulse-pounding chaos. In a few short weeks, everything she'd spent the past sixteen years building had crumbled down around her like a city ravaged by war.
No matter what happened in the future, even if she lost everything, she wouldn't change the days and nights she'd spent with Morgan. Perhaps she didn't deserve lasting happiness. Losing Morgan and even losing Anne Marie might well be her punishment for sending Amery to his death. If there was forgiveness in this world, any fairness at all, then she could hope she would live through this present ordeal and eventually rebuild her relationship with her daughter. But there would be no tomorrows for Morgan and her. Once she told him the truth about Anne Marie, there would be no hope for them.
"It's getting a bit chilly out there, isn't it?" Claudia walked up beside Bethany. "I love the nights when they start cooling off like this."
Glancing at Claudia, Bethany smiled. "Are Anne Marie and Morgan still playing billiards?"
"Oh, yes." Claudia laid her hand on Bethany's shoulder. "He's teaching her the finer points of the game. I stood in the doorway and watched them for a while. A blind fool could see that they're father and daughter, but Morgan doesn't see it."
"No, Morgan doesn't see it," Bethany said. "But I think he senses it, on a subconscious level. He's very paternal around her. I think he's going to be a good father."
"Then you're going to tell him soon, aren't you?"
"I plan to tell him before my arraignment." Bethany walked out onto the patio. "I keep putting off telling him because I can't bear to lose him again."
"Oh, Beth, dear child." Claudia lifted her shawl from where it rested about her arms and draped it around her shoulders, then stepped out onto the patio.
"I know that he doesn't plan to stay on in Birmingham. And I realize that our relationship is only temporary, but … I want every day, every moment that we can share. It will end soon enough as it is."
"You're lovers again," Claudia said matter-of-factly. "You and Morgan have always loved each other. You were meant to be together. Once he gets over the initial shock of learning that he's Anne Marie's father, I'm sure y'all will be able to work things out and make a life together."
"I love Morgan." Bethany gazed up at the clear black sky, focusing on the brightest star, making a wish she knew would never come true. "But Morgan has never told me that he loves me. Not sixteen years ago and not now."
Claudia reached out and grasped Bethany's hand. They stood together on the patio, listening to the quiet nighttime sounds of nature. There had been a time when she had hated Claudia for forcing her into marriage with Amery, but that hatred had died long ago. Over the years, their individual memories of Morgan and their love and devotion to Morgan's daughter had brought them together. And Claudia's constant support and caring had endeared her to Bethany.
"So there y'all are." Anne Marie held Morgan's hand as the two entered the den. "Did you know Morgan is a pool shark? I mean he's the absolute best, even better than Papa Henderson, and he was great."
Anne Marie flew out onto the patio and hugged her nana. Claudia's face crinkled into soft lines when she smiled. "And how badly did he beat you? I'm sure he didn't let you win a game. He always did whatever he had to do, even cheat, to keep from losing."
"Actually, he did let me win," Anne Marie said triumphantly. "But only once." She turned to her mother. "Thanks for moving in with Nana until our house is ready again. I just don't think I could have stayed another night at Grandmother's. Not with James living there. Not after what happened last night. I really made a fool of myself."
"We'll only be here a couple of days," Bethany said. "I'm hoping we can move back home by mid-week. Until then Morgan can continue giving you billiard lessons."
"She's already quite a good player," Morgan said. "She told me that Father taught her how to play when she was a small child."
"Your father adored Anne Marie," Claudia said.
"Even if I was a girl." Anne Marie shrugged, then slipped her arms through Morgan's arm and hugged up to him. "I'll bet you aren't like Papa Henderson was, are you, Morgan? It wouldn't matter the least little bit if you had a daughter instead of a son, would it?"
Morgan slipped his arm around Anne Marie and hugged her to his side, then kissed her on the forehead. "I'd rather have a daughter just like you than have half a dozen sons."
Biting down on her bottom lip so hard she broke the skin, Bethany tasted her own blood. Tears gathered in her eyes. She fled to the edge of the patio, where steps led to a brick walkway that connected to the massive gardens in back of the house.
"Where are you going, Mama?" Anne Marie asked.
"I thought I'd take a walk before I go to bed." Despite the tears threatening to choke her and the knot tightening in her stomach, Bethany spoke calmly, not a tremor in her voice.
"Want me to come with you?" Anne Marie took a tentative step forward.
Bethany didn't reply; instead she hurried away as if she hadn't heard her daughter's
question.
Morgan clasped Anne Marie's wrist. "Maybe your mother needs to be alone for a while."
"Maybe she'd rather have you go with her than me," Anne Marie told him, and when Morgan didn't move, she gave him a shove. "Go on. Go after her."
"Anne Marie, why don't you see me upstairs to my room?" Claudia said. "I'm getting tired. We can stop by the kitchen and get a snack, then go on up. I'll tell you about the first time your … the first time Morgan played billiards with Papa Henderson."
Morgan waited until his mother and Anne Marie went inside before he followed Bethany. He found her at the back of the house, on the trail leading to the pond.
"Beth! Wait, honey," he called out to her.
Hesitating momentarily, she glanced over her shoulder. "I need to be by myself. Please, go away."
He heard the tears in her voice, even though he could not see her face clearly in the shadowy moonlight. His mind told him to respect her request and leave her alone. She would be safe inside the walls of his mother's estate. It would take a battalion of trained commandos to get past Claudia's state-of-the-art security system. But his heart told him that the last thing Bethany really wanted or needed was to be alone.
"You don't want me to leave," he told her.
She ran down the trail. He stood and watched her flee as if she were afraid of him. He rushed after her, calling her name. Ignoring his pleas, she ran faster and faster. He caught up with her by the pool, overtaking her just as she reached the miniature gazebo nestled in a grove of trees on the far side of the pond.
He swung her around in his arms. She went limp, her arms hanging lifelessly at her sides, her head bowed. With one arm supporting her, he reached out with the other and gripped her chin between thumb and forefinger. Forcing her face upward, he made her look at him.
The moonlight coated the garden in pale gold and illuminated the tears in Bethany's eyes, making them glimmer like liquid diamonds.
"Honey, what's wrong? Why did you run away from me?"
How could she tell him and make him understand how deeply what he'd said to Anne Marie had affected her? Morgan already cared for Anne Marie. Once he knew she was his daughter, he would love her. He would take care of her.
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 23
