Dying for You, page 20
“So, Grayson Perkins and Patrice Bedell both stand to gain financially from your death,” Sawyer said.
Cara nodded.
“Are you certain that the other beneficiaries don’t know anything about their inheritance?” Sawyer asked.
“I’m positive.”
“That narrows the possible suspects, doesn’t it?” Lucie said. “Castillo, Gray Perkins and Patrice Bedell.”
“If we’re only going to look at this from one viewpoint, that the motive is greed, then those three are definitely the major suspects,” Sawyer said. “But what if greed isn’t the motive?”
Cara and Lucie looked straight at Sawyer.
“He’s right,” Bain said. “We’re overlooking hatred and revenge.”
Cara’s eyes widened in shock. “I never considered—”
“Edward Bedell made a lot of enemies over the years,” Bain reminded her. “It’s possible that someone hated him enough to transfer that hatred over to you. Killing you would be a secondhand revenge, but it would still be revenge.”
“Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against your father?” Lucie asked. “Someone who possibly threatened him?”
“I have no idea. My father and I were never close. He didn’t share things with me. But it’s possible some of the older board members might know. Leland Chastain went to school with my father, first at Baylor when they were boys, and later at Vanderbilt. He might know. And Margaret Vaughn and her husband were friends from the time Daddy was married to Audrey’s mother. Miss Kate or Mr. Alfred might know of someone.”
“I’m sure you’ll want Bedell security to be in charge of bodyguard duties,” Sawyer said. “But you’ll need Dundee’s to head up the investigation. I can have several of my best people on the job first thing tomorrow. I simply need your okay.”
“Yes, of course. Do whatever you think is necessary,” Cara told him. “Work with Deke. I’ll give him permission to cooperate fully with Dundee’s.” She turned to Lucie. “Do you want some time off before going back to work or are you ready to resume your duties as my personal bodyguard?”
“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lucie said. “As far as I’m concerned, the minute we get back to Chattanooga, I’m on the job, twenty-four-seven.”
Smiling, Cara stood and held out her hand. “Then we have a deal.”
She and Lucie shook on it, and then she turned to Sawyer. “If I need to sign a contract, fax the papers to Deke tomorrow.”
Sawyer nodded. “I don’t want to rush you, but the Dundee jet is waiting in Knoxville and—”
“Yes, of course. Time to go home.” Cara glanced at Bain.
“I’ll close up the cabin before I leave,” Bain said. “Y’all go on ahead. I’ll be driving back to Chattanooga tonight.”
Cara glanced from Lucie to Sawyer. “Would you two mind giving me a few minutes alone with Bain before we go?”
“No, of course not.” Lucie grabbed Sawyer’s arm. “We’ll wait outside for you.”
Sawyer glared at her, but didn’t say anything as she all but dragged him to the door and out onto the porch.
CARA WALKED OVER to Bain. They stood there gazing at each other.
“We have a date in six weeks,” she reminded him. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.” He reached out and took her hands in his. “I’m going to talk to Deke every day, you know, and check on you.”
“You are?”
“Even with Lucie watching your back, I’m going to worry about you.”
Cara wished he would pull her into his arms and kiss her. “We both already know that Lucie will protect me with her life. She’s proven that she’s willing to die for me.”
“She’s not the only one.”
“I know. I—”
He grabbed her and kissed her.
She clung to him, never wanting to leave his arms. But the kiss ended all too quickly and Bain held her at arm’s length.
“I’ll call you in six weeks,” she said.
He nodded.
“I love you.”
He released her, cleared his throat and said, “I love you, too, sugar.”
Cara turned, hurried to the door and walked outside, leaving her heart behind with Bain Desmond.
AT ELEVEN-FIFTEEN that night, Sawyer and Bain met with Deke Bronson in his office at Bedell, Inc. headquarters in downtown Chattanooga. After Sawyer had escorted Lucie and Cara to the Bedell estate, he had telephoned Deke and then Bain, requesting the urgent nighttime meeting.
“Dundee’s will need full cooperation from both Bedell security and the Chattanooga police department,” Sawyer explained. “I prefer that the three of us coordinate our efforts from the very beginning.”
Deke and Bain agreed.
“I suggest that your people beef up security at the office and at home and provide backup for Lucie around the clock,” Sawyer told Deke, then turned to Bain. “If the C.P.D. can offer assistance in any way, I assume you’ll make sure we receive the department’s full cooperation.”
“Absolutely,” Bain said. “Even without my limited influence in the department, the chief is no dummy. He knows exactly who Cara Bedell is and what Bedell, Inc. means to Chattanooga.”
“Dundee’s will begin an in-depth investigation, both here in Chattanooga and in Ameca,” Sawyer said. “We aren’t limiting our investigation only to Castillo, Patrice Bedell and Gray Perkins. I’ll have several agents working on a different angle and they’ll start by interviewing Mr. Chastain and Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn. If Edward Bedell had enemies who hated him enough to seek revenge by killing his daughter, we need to know.”
“Cara’s not going to play it safe,” Bain said. “She’ll be down here in her office tomorrow, putting herself at risk on the drive to and from her home. And there are dozens of people in and out of this building every day, not including the employees.” He looked at Deke. “Even with Lucie at her side every minute, someone could still get to her. If I had my way…” He shook his head. “Neither of you have to say it. I know that all we can do is the best we can do.”
“I’ll speak to Cara and Lucie in the morning,” Deke said. “I’ll suggest that we make Cara’s office off-limits to everyone except her private secretary and Bedell vice presidents.”
“She needs a different office, too,” Bain suggested. “That wall of windows—”
“I’ll suggest she move into an office with fewer windows,” Deke said. “Or even into one of the smaller interior offices.”
“I’ll be in charge of the entire operation from Dundee headquarters in Atlanta,” Sawyer said. “I’ll send Ty Garrett and a couple of agents to Ameca and I’m going to pull Whit Falkner in off another case to head things up here in Chattanooga.”
“I’ll arrange for daily conference calls with the two of you,” Deke told them. “I’m aware of the fact that this is no ordinary case for either of you.”
Bain and Sawyer exchanged questioning glances, then both of them stared at Deke, who shrugged. “Hey, there’s no need for secrets among friends and associates, right?”
Neither Bain nor Sawyer replied.
“Bain has a very personal interest in Cara Bedell’s welfare,” Deke said as he looked at Sawyer. “Just like you have a personal interest in wanting to keep Lucie safe.”
“Son of a bitch,” Bain mumbled under his breath. “I thought I was picking up on some odd vibes between you two.”
“Lucie is a former Dundee agent,” Sawyer said, as if that explained his concern for her.
“Yeah, sure.” Bain grinned. “I got it. I’m not a guy who needs to know another man’s personal business. But we’re all in agreement that our first priority is to keep Cara and Lucie safe while we find the person behind Cara’s kidnapping.”
“Agreed,” Deke said.
Sawyer nodded. “Agreed.”
IF SHE HADN’T BEEN bone-weary, Lucie would have been just as impressed with the sight of the antebellum Bedell mansion tonight as she had been the first time she saw it. But nothing would impress her right now more than a good soft bed and about ten hours of uninterrupted sleep.
When Sawyer had walked them into the house, the butler, a distinguished middle-aged man named Aldridge, had met them, but Cara had quickly dismissed him.
“Please, go to bed. I can show Ms. Evans to her room,” Cara had told him.
Once Sawyer had left, without a backward glance, and nothing more than a “take care” remark to Lucie, she and Cara had taken the elevator upstairs.
Lucie requested a room near Cara’s. “Even though this place is probably as safe as Fort Knox, considering the security Deke has in place, I’d still prefer to be close by and not in a different wing of the house.”
Cara showed Lucie to the room across the hall from hers, a large suite, with a private bath, dressing room and sitting area. “This was Patrice’s room,” Cara said. “When she moved out, I redecorated, not just her room, but Audrey’s old room and my old room, too. The rooms I use now were once my father’s.”
“I’m afraid I’ll need to borrow a nightgown or a pair of pajamas. I don’t have any clothes with me,” Lucie explained.
“Anything of mine is yours. Come in my room and choose whatever you’d like. I’m at least one size larger than you, but with pajamas or a gown, I don’t think it matters. Tomorrow, we’ll order you a whole new wardrobe.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“In the morning, write down your sizes and I’ll have my secretary arrange for a personal shopper to pick up whatever you need.”
“Treatment like that will spoil me.”
“You deserve to be spoiled. I owe you my life.”
“Cara—Ms. Bedell—it was my job to protect you.”
“Please, it’s Cara. Now, come into my room and pick out something to sleep in. And if you can find something suitable for work tomorrow—” She glanced at Lucie’s feet. “What size shoe do you wear?”
“A nine,” Lucie replied. “Nine medium.”
Cara smiled. “My size exactly, so you can raid my shoe closet and take whatever you like.”
“For work, I prefer comfortable flats and usually slacks, shirt and blazer.” Lucie grimaced. “Damn.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious. I just don’t have a gun and shoulder holster, but I’m sure Deke will provide me with what I need in the morning.”
“I’m sure he will.” Cara grabbed Lucie’s hand. “Come choose something to wear tonight and whatever you’ll need for tomorrow. And feel free to sleep as late as you’d like. As you said, I’m quite safe here in my own home. In the morning, I promise not to leave the house until you’re with me. I’m not planning to go into the office until around eleven.”
Half an hour later, Lucie washed her face with some type of expensive liquid cleanser, brushed her teeth with a borrowed toothbrush, combed her hair with a silver comb and put on a pair of gold silk pajamas. The pj’s were only slightly baggy and had probably cost somewhere between a week and a month’s salary for her.
The bathroom was large and airy, the style clean and simple, with pale grayish-white walls, a decorative tile floor and white curtains on the single window. The biscuit sink boasted a brushed nickel faucet. A ladder-back wooden chair, finished in a blue-gray satin color, rested against the wall and the seat held a stack of pristine white towels and washcloths.
The dressing room contained two huge side-by-side closets, deep and wide and empty, except for numerous rows of padded hangers. The elaborate dressing table was made of glass and intricately carved white wrought iron.
Lucie paused to take in the luxury of her surroundings. She couldn’t imagine living this way. For people like Cara, who had been born to wealth and privilege, it probably seemed like nothing. But for Lucie, who had once shared a small two-bedroom house with her grandmother not much larger than this bedroom suite, these accommodations were exquisite. The richest people Lucie had known when she was growing up had been the McNamaras, but they had been only millionaires where Cara Bedell was worth billions.
The bed was a black iron four-poster without a canopy. She flipped back the heavy white goose down comforter and found white cotton sheets, probably no less than 800 thread count Egyptian cotton, beneath. Four pillows, decked in embroidered white cases, rested against the slatted headboard. The walls were a light gray, the same color as the tufted velvet chaise at the foot of the bed. A carpet in shades of gold, green and gray covered the center of the room, leaving the aged hardwood showing around the corners.
After turning off the glass-and-metal bedside lamp, Lucie snuggled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her waist. She lay there and stared up at the ceiling.
She supposed that by now Sawyer was winging his way to Atlanta on the Dundee jet. Although it was possible that their paths would cross again during the course of the Cara Bedell case, she had to accept the fact that there really was no hope for them. She could cherish the knowledge that he still cared about her, that he still wanted her, that he had risked his life to save her, but what good did it do her? He refused to accept the truth about Brenden’s death and as long as he continued to blame himself—and her—for what had happened to his brother, they could never be together.
In the beginning, she had felt as guilty as Sawyer had, but eventually, she came to realize that the only thing she had been guilty of was being in love with Sawyer and not Brenden.
Lucie tossed and turned, trying to relax, doing her best to stop thinking about the time she had spent with Sawyer in Ameca, in Barbados and on the Dundee jet. But she couldn’t forget the way he had kissed her. Even now, hours later, she could almost feel his lips on hers.
You’re an idiot, Lucie Evans.
Are you going to spend the rest of your life waiting for a man who will never allow himself to love you?
You aren’t getting any younger, you know. If you want a home and a family, time’s a wasting. Out there somewhere, there has to be man who can make you forget about Sawyer.
Yeah, sure. When pigs fly.
Lucie groaned. She pulled the covers higher, all the way up to her ears.
Go to sleep. Get some rest. Tomorrow, you’ll need to be at your best. You’ll be back on the job guarding Cara Bedell.
CARA LAY WITH her back propped against a stack of pillows braced against the headboard of her bed. Her body ached from the hours of passionate lovemaking that she and Bain had shared. Making love with him had been all she had dreamed it would be. Actually, the reality had been even better than the fantasy.
But now, she felt so alone. Poor little rich girl once again. She had everything money could buy. Too bad Bain Desmond wasn’t for sale.
Don’t give up. You’re closer to getting what you want than you’ve ever been. You and Bain are now lovers. He’s not going to forget about how good it was between the two of you, no more than you will be able to forget. He’ll think about you, dream about you, want you, just as you will him.
They had a date in six weeks. Just forty-two days. All she had to do was stay alive until then.
BAIN DESMOND unlocked the door to his apartment, went inside, locked the door and headed for the bedroom. After stripping off his clothes, down to his briefs, and placing his wallet, change and keys on the dresser and his phone on the nightstand, he went into the bathroom. He took a piss, washed his hands, brushed his teeth and tossed his briefs into the laundry hamper inside the linen closet.
He was home, back in Chattanooga, and tonight he’d sleep in his own bed instead of that damn uncomfortable sofa at the cabin. But he would be sleeping alone.
Don’t think about how you spent the day today. Don’t think about Cara.
Yeah, sure.
Not in a million years would he ever forget one detail of his hours with Cara. He had fought against his own needs for the past couple of years, knowing damn well that once he’d had her, it would be all the more difficult to walk away from her. But he had to do it. For her sake as well as his.
If for one minute, he thought they could make a go of marriage, he’d have her in front of a preacher so quick it would make her head spin. But the thought of Cara trying to fit into his run-of-the-mill middle-class life was ludicrous. But not any more so than him trying to fit into her high-brow, richer-than-God lifestyle.
They had met under the worst of circumstances—her sister’s disappearance. He had watched her deal with her sister’s murder, and shortly after that her father’s suicide, and had admired her strength and courage. He had seen the way Grayson Perkins had leaned on her, demanding her attention as if he had every right to claim her. Even then, before he’d admitted to himself that he was in love with her, he had known she was far too good for a leech like Perkins.
She was too good for him, too, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. Day and night. And he would for the rest of his life.
Fate sure as hell had a cruel sense of humor.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CARA’S RETURN TO Bedell, Inc. was met with no fanfare whatsoever and for several reasons. First of all, no one other than Grayson Perkins and Deke Bronson knew about the kidnapping and only Deke knew the truth—that Lucie and not Cara had been abducted. Also, the fewer people who knew the reason why the security around Bedell’s CEO and chief stockholder had been tightened, the better. Jason Little’s body had been discreetly claimed by friends of Rita Herrera from the San Luis morgue and returned to the U.S. His family and friends had been told that he had risked his life to save Cara Bedell, and Bedell, Inc. had paid for the funeral and arranged a sizable monthly pension for his wife. Deke had issued a memo that due to a bomb threat, security would be increased to the maximum extend and remain at critical alert until he felt the Bedell Building and its occupants were no longer in danger.
