by Cassie Miles
Every time he saw his beautiful daughter, he marveled. She had her mother's thick, black hair, but her blue eyes matched his own.
When he introduced her to Liz, Natalie politely shook hands and said, "Buenos dias. I know Spanish. Nanny is teaching me."
"¿Como esta?" Liz asked.
"Muy bueno," Natalie said very seriously. "Do you know any other languages?"
"A little bit of Japanese," Liz said. "I teach at a karate school, and some of my students are your age."
"A boy in my class knows karate. He's a big show-off. Can you teach me how to beat him up?"
"Maybe later," Ben said as he stepped in. "Liz has never seen your room. Would you show her around?"
Natalie linked her hand with Liz's and started toward the house. His daughter was chatty and smart, but not annoying. She'd never turned into one of those kids who were like performing seals, demanding attention for all their tricks. Natalie knew how to watch and learn.
He wanted to teach her everything, especially how to sail. When she was a baby, he'd taken her for swimming lessons and she had done him proud. Had taken to the water like a baby otter.
His cares and worries faded in the glow of innocence from his child. She brightened the world around her. Even Patrice and Monte smiled in her presence. Rachel nearly smothered the child in a gigantic bear hug.
Natalie's happiness was the only thing that mattered. Everything else would sort itself out.
After Natalie had showed off her room, Ben escorted his daughter and Liz down to the workshop to check on the progress of the boat. The name of this craft had already been decided by his daughter; it would be christened Fifi after her favorite stuffed animal.
He liked the way Liz interacted with Natalie. Not at all condescending or forced. They seemed to honestly enjoy each other. He took pleasure in seeing them joke and talk and flip stones into the lake. For a few sunlit hours, it felt like they were a family. A real family.
Around three o'clock, Natalie had begun to wilt. He picked her up, gave her a kiss on the tip of her nose and said, "Nap time."
"Daddy." Natalie rolled her eyes. "I don't do naps."
"That's not what your mom told me. She said you had a cold and needed to rest."
"'She just said that because Dr. Mancini told her to. It's a little cold." She squeezed her fingers together. "Very little."
"When did you see the doctor?"
"All the time." Another eye roll. "He mostly comes to see my mommy. But sometimes, me."
"Dr. Mancini seems nice," Liz said. "Do you like him?"
"Mommy does. She likes him a bunch."
The farthest thing from Ben's mind was probing his daughter for information to use in their investigation. But this revelation could not be ignored. If Victoria and Mancini were having an affair, the doctor had a motive for wanting Charlene dead.
Dr. Mancini with his innocent white hair and bow ties didn't seem like the type to be carried away by passion. But Victoria preferred men with money. Like doctors.
After he told Liz to wait for him in the study, Ben took Natalie upstairs to her bedroom at the top of the stairs, where she negotiated her way out of a nap. This would be an hour of quiet time.
Surrounded by half a dozen stuffed animals, she lay down on her bed, and he told her a story. By the end, she was fast asleep. Her thick black eyelashes formed sweet crescents on her rosy cheeks.
He needed to do a better job of protecting her. If Victoria and Mancini had been plotting murder and hiring snipers, Ben would never allow Natalie to return to his estranged wife's house. He needed to report this information to Agent Lattimer as soon as possible. Get the investigation moving in the right direction.
In the study, Liz stood waiting for him. The afternoon sunlight through the window struck highlights in her hair. Her gaze cast down. "Ben, there's something I need to tell you."
"It'll have to wait." He reached for the phone on the desktop. "I need put in a call to Lattimer."
She caught hold of his wrist. "Believe me, I'd love to wait. But I have to tell you now."
He gave her his full attention. Whatever she had to say was important to her. "I'm listening."
"When I came to this house, I expected you to be a spoiled, insensitive jerk who never did an honest day's work. I never wanted to care about you."
"But you do care."
"God help me, I do. That's why this is so hard."
He saw the pain in her eyes and stepped toward her, hoping to offer comfort. But she braced her arm straight in front of her, holding him back.
"Let me finish," she said. "Posing as a maid was an undercover assignment. I' m really a private investigator, working for Harry Schooner."
His rational mind couldn't accept what she was saying. "What were you here to investigate?"
"You."
The word plunged a knife in his gut. "Why?"
"Credible information that you were a drug user. I was here to get tangible proof that could be used in court." A ragged breath rattled through her. "To prove that you were an unfit father."
He remembered the custody battle. The knife twisted. "Victoria hired you."
"I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting a child from an addict father. On the night you made that drug buy in Denver, I was on the street watching. I saw you give money to that dealer. I saw you take the merchandise."
"Drugs for Jerod."
"'I know." A tear spilled down her cheek. "Now, I know."
"You spied on me in Denver. Then you came here to betray me." Everything about her was a lie. "You wanted me to lose custody of my child."
"I couldn't make sense of what I'd seen. I knew you trafficked with drug dealers. But I also knew you were a decent man. That's why I left."
"And why did you come back?"
"I didn't want to. Victoria was offering a lot of money, and Harry really needs a big payoff. He wants to retire, and I couldn't—"
"Why?" he demanded.
"I wanted to solve the murder. Ben, I wasn't lying when I said that I believed in your innocence. I know you're not a killer."
"No more goddamned excuses, Liz." Nothing could make him forgive her. "Why are you back here?"
"Victoria wanted me to return."
"You're still working for her."
"Yes," she said.
The air went out of her, and she seemed to collapse within herself. But he had no sympathy for her and her crocodile tears. He had trusted her, and she paid him back with a heartless deception.
He wanted to hate her, but the rage that surged within him was as much for himself as for her. God, he was a fool.
"I should have guessed," he said. "The way you stepped in and separated Tony and Ramon was too.. .professional."
"I'm sorry."
"You were too slick when you pretended to be Charlene. Right away, you picked up on her voice and her mannerisms. Just another undercover job for you."
"I wanted to help."
"How about last night? When you went to bed with me, that must have been part of your plan. I hope Victoria pays you extra for that."
"Last night." She lifted her chin. "It was wrong of me to want you. But I did. More than my principles. More than anything. I don't regret one minute."
"Get the hell out of my sight."
Without another word, she walked through the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
Numbly, Liz climbed the stairs to her garret bedroom and gathered her things. She couldn't blame Ben for hating her. She had come here under false pretenses, intending to betray him. There was no pretty way to explain it.
She was in the wrong. And she'd lost everything. The future, which would have been bright with him, had turned into a gaping, dark abyss. She needed to get away from here. To put a million miles between herself and the man she could have loved.
In the third floor hallway with her gym bag in her hand, she paused outside the door to Rachel's room. She probably ought to inform her of what had happened.
Though Liz hadn't mentioned Rachel's name, Ben might have questions for the housekeeper.
Liz tapped lightly. "Rachel?"
She pushed the door open to peek inside and caught a whiff of the heavy floral scent she'd come to hate. Charlene's cologne. God, that stuff was strong. She sniffed again. Was she imagining the stink? Liz was so attuned to the guilt she felt for wearing that cologne to play her role as Charlene, that it was branded in her olfactory memory.
She entered the room, which was three times as large as her own tiny garret. When she opened the closet, she spotted a pair of sneakers—huge, probably a size twelve. When Liz held them to her nose, they smelled like Charlene. Stuffed in the bottom of a laundry bag was a pair of black slacks and a sweater. On the shelf above the clothing rack, she found a black knit cap.
Everything became clear.
Rachel had gone into Dr. Mancini's bag and stolen the sedatives. She must have paid Ramon to slip the drug into Liz's drink because Rachel had known Liz was an investigator.
Then Ramon had drugged Charlene.
Rachel knew about Annette's night wandering. She'd arranged with Ramon to poison Annette's mind.
With easy access to all the household keys, Rachel had gone to the surveillance shed and turned off the camera. She had gone to Charlene's room. They'd struggled. The bottle of cologne had shattered, and the smell had been everywhere.
Big, tall Rachel had carried Charlene's body to the log barn. And she'd committed murder.
Liz looked up in time to see Rachel barreling across the room. She'd come out of nowhere. For such a big woman, she was incredibly light on her feet. She swung hard with a heavy object. A tool? Though Liz dodged, she took a glancing blow to the forehead, enough to knock her down. The inside of her head exploded with pain.
She had to get up, had to defend herself. Couldn't move.
Rachel plunged a hypodermic needle into her arm and retreated, giving her plenty of space. Triumphant, she said, "You'll be unconscious in two minutes."
Enough time to call for help. Enough time to make one assault. Liz staggered to her feet. The room whirled like an insane carousel. She was already light-headed. Struggling, she managed to speak. "Why did you kill Charlene?"
"Because Victoria is my friend. With that bitch Charlene out of the way, our little Natalie will inherit."
"You framed Ben."
"He doesn't deserve custody."
Clinging to the edge of Rachel's bed, Liz sank to her knees. Her black belt couldn't help her now. Her head throbbed with every pulse. A sledgehammer inside her head.
"I hadn't planned on this," Rachel said. "You never should have come back."
"Had to. Ben. Had to help Ben."
"Once again, you've made a mess. You never had any respect for me, for my work. The gardener found bits of those broken plates. How could you destroy those heirlooms?"
"Go to hell."
"Use the proper response. Yes, ma'am."
Her evil smile was magnified in Liz's distorted vision. She saw huge lips and teeth. Rachel's words echoed like she was speaking from inside a well.
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Everybody overheard your argument with Ben. He had a motive to get rid of you. Tonight, I'm going to make it look like you're his second victim."
She was going to die. Tonight. And Ben would be blamed.
Her eyes closed as she tumbled to the floor. Darkness overwhelmed her.
Ben rose from the chair behind his desk. He had to make up his mind and didn't have much time. Natalie would wake from her nap at any minute.
What the hell should he do about Liz?
She had come there under false pretenses. She had spied on him and lied to him. She had betrayed his trust.
Damn it, he was right to kick her off the premises. Keeping her around would have been a poor decision. The people closest to him had to be utterly trustworthy. He ran all his businesses that way, delegating to those who would act in his best interest. He needed loyal employees who were hard working and...
He smacked his fist on the hard surface of the desk. This wasn't about efficiency and business. This was about a small woman with wild hair and a great big heart. Her face appeared in his memory with her green eyes blazing. He heard echoes of laughter. He remembered her in that poorly fitted maid uniform, tending bar, posing as Charlene. He remembered her in his bed.
Damn it, he loved this woman. No matter what she'd done, he would not let her leave him.
He burst from the den and strode to the front of the house. She hadn't driven her own car and would have to get a ride back into town.
Near the front door, he encountered one of the security men. "Have you seen Liz?"
"Not recently."
"Check with the front gate. See if she's left."
The guard undipped a cell phone-sized communication device from his belt and spoke into it. Turning back toward Ben, he shook his head. "The only person to come in during the past hour is Dr. Mancini."
That bastard. Ben knew exactly where to find him. He charged down the stairs to the lower level, where the doctor stood at the bar. As Ben approached, Mancini held up a tumbler of whiskey. "One more for the road."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd pop in and say my good-byes." He adjusted his bow tie. "I won't be coming here every day. Not anymore."
"You got that right." Ben leaned his elbow on the bar. "Tell me, doc. How long have you been having an affair with Victoria?"
"A beautiful woman can make a man do foolish things. All she told me was that she needed money. Cash money. A lot of it. When I asked her why, she kissed me and I forgot about everything else."
Ben had a pretty fair idea of what he was talking about. "You provided Victoria with the cash to pay for a professional sniper."
"When I figured it out, she said she'd call him off. Then Ramon was killed."
Victoria was clever. If the investigation turned toward her, she could display her bank accounts and show that she hadn't made any sort of large withdrawal. She'd purposely protected herself and betrayed her lover.
Liz was nothing like Victoria. True, she'd come to the house on an undercover assignment, but she'd thought she was protecting Natalie from a drug addict father. Though she should have confided in him as soon as she'd known he was clean, he knew how hard it was to tell the truth when someone else would be hurt.
He wasn't about to give her a medal, but he could forgive.
Mancini straightened his shoulders. "I came here to apologize. I should have been more careful, should have asked more questions. And I promise you, Ben, I never did anything to hurt your grandfather."
*'You kept him from getting the operation he needed."
"That wasn't me. I have professional ethics, and I knew I was out of my depth in treating a brain tumor. Time and again, I urged him to get a second opinion. As you know, Jerod is a stubborn old cuss. It wasn't until his vision started to go that—"
"Where's Liz?"
Taken aback, Mancini's eyes widened. "Liz? I haven't seen her."
"Did you know that she was a private investigator? Working for Victoria?"
"No." He downed the dregs of his whiskey. "Victoria is poison. The only thing she's ever done right is caring for Natalie. She loves that little girl."
Small reassurance, but Ben knew it was true. Being a good mother was Victoria's only positive attribute. "Agent Lattimer will be talking to you."
He poured another shot. "I'm almost ready for him."
Ben went back up the stairs to the kitchen, where Rachel and the chef were preparing dinner. "Rachel, have you seen Liz?"
Turning toward him with a chopping knife in hand, the big woman glowered. "I overheard your argument with her. She lied to you. If I were you, I'd want revenge."
"Do you know where she is?"
"I thought she was leaving."
He knew it wouldn't take Liz more than two minutes to pack up her things. Was she still upsta
irs in the tiny bedroom?
He ran up the stairs, two at a time. This house was too damned big. Liz could be out on the deck. She could have gone back down to the study. Could be anywhere.
In the narrow hallway on the third floor, he faced six closed doors, three on each side. He never came up here. Didn't even know which room Liz had been in.
He heard a faint tapping. It seemed to be coming from the door closest to him. "Liz?"
A whispered response. "Ben."
He tried the handle. Locked. "Liz, open the door."
Silence.
He jiggled the knob again. Something was wrong. Was she hurt? Adrenaline pumped through him. He hit the door with his shoulder. Once. Twice. On the third time, it crashed opened.
Liz was on the floor beside the door. She was bleeding from a head wound, gasping, struggling to move.
He knelt beside her. cradled her in his arms. Her eyelids fluttered. Her lips moved, trying to speak.
"It's all right," he said. "I'm here. I'll take care of you."
"It's Rachel," she said. "Look out."
A sound from the hallway alerted him. He turned in time to see the housekeeper brandishing a knife.
He sprang to his feet and faced her. She was a big woman. Big enough to have overpowered Charlene and carried her through the night. A monster. Rachel was the monster.
She slashed with the knife.
He easily sidestepped. "You know what, Rachel?"
"What?"
"You're fired."
When she raised her knife again, he slapped her hand aside and delivered a sharp jab to her jaw. She crashed to the floor with a loud thud.
He returned to Liz, gathered her close to him. With his free hand, he used his cell phone to call 9-1-1. Liz needed medical aid, and he sure as hell wasn't going to trust her care to Dr. Mancini.
With an effort, she lifted her hand and touched his cheek. "Love you." She forced the words out. "Ben I love you."
And he loved her, too. "I'll never let you go."
They would be together forever. He and Liz and Natalie. And Jerod. A real family.
Epilogue
Liz stepped onto the deck of Ben's fifty-foot yacht as they sailed the Strait of Juan de Fuca headed for the open seas beyond Washington state and Vancouver. The brisk autumn breeze swirled her long, white bridal gown. She'd never been comfortable in skirts, but this day she was willing to make an exception.
