Dangerous Deception

To “The Children” and their playground monitor:

Kira Bazzel, Kim Kerr, Andrea Laurence,

Marilyn Puett and Danniele Worsham.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

I SWEAR I’ LL FIND YOU .

Lausanne Raney ran the tip of her index finger over the blurry photograph, her touch gentle, almost reverent. Ten years ago, she had snapped this picture through the glass window that shielded the hospital nursery from the outside world. A thin barrier between her and her newborn daughter.

You have to know that I did what I thought was best for you. I was seventeen, with nobody who cared if I lived or died and not a cent to my name.

If she had it to do over again, would she still give her baby up for adoption? Pressing the snapshot to her breast, Lausanne clenched her teeth. She didn’t cry anymore. She hadn’t cried in years. Tears were useless. Self pity served no purpose.

Yes. The answer was yes. If circumstances were the same, then she’d still give away her child.

She’d known then, as she knew now, that allowing some childless couple to adopt her daughter had given the baby her only chance for a decent life.

Yeah, just look what a mess I’ve made of my life. If I’d kept you, I’d have screwed you up something awful. I couldn’t do that to you, sweet baby.

Lausanne placed the photograph back in the small box that contained only two other items. A tiny gold cross attached to a necklace that had belonged to her mother and Lausanne’s GED certificate that she had earned while serving five years in the state penitentiary.

But that was then. This is now. She had served her time, paid her debt to society. And God help her, she had learned her lesson. She couldn’t trust anybody, couldn’t depend on anyone but herself, didn’t dare risk falling in love again. Her track record with men sucked. Her first love had left her alone and pregnant. But that was nothing compared to lover number two. He’d robbed a convenience store while she waited in the car, oblivious to what he was doing. But in the eyes of the law, she had been his accomplice.

Lausanne closed the lid on the small box, then crossed the bedroom of her two-room apartment in Chattanooga, stood on tiptoe and slid the box onto the top shelf in her tiny closet.

She wasn’t going to live in a dump like this forever. One day, she’d have a nice place, a new car and pretty clothes. Someday. After she found out where her little girl was. While she’d been in the pen, she’d made herself two promises. One: When she got out, she’d work hard and build a good life for herself. Two: She’d find out where her daughter was and make sure she was well and happy and with a good family.

Lausanne checked her appearance in the cracked full-length mirror attached to the front of the closet door with rusty metal hinges. The entire outfit had cost her sixty bucks, but on her, the clothes looked more expensive. She had a knack for mixing and matching, for coordinating, for copying the styles she saw in magazines but using off-the-rack items from discount stores.

Today was step one in her plan to fulfill those promises to herself. Today she would begin a new job as a receptionist at Bedell, Inc. No more waitress jobs for her. And just as she’d been doing for the past six months when she’d been scratching by on minimum wage, part of each paycheck would go into a fund to hire a private agency to help her find her daughter.

CHAPTER ONE

SAWYER MC NAMARA , the CEO of the Dundee Private Security and Investigation Agency, handed the three agents congregated at the table in the conference room separate file folders. As he took his seat at the head of the table, he glanced at each person, his gaze lingering on Lucie Evans. As if sensing his intense scrutiny, Lucie looked up and glared at their boss.

“What?” she asked, her tone combative.

Sawyer shrugged. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Evans?”

Bristling, Lucie frowned, then growled deep in her throat.

Nothing new there, Dom Shea thought. Any conversation between Sawyer and Lucie started and ended as a battle of wills. The two mixed like oil and water. And the entire Dundee staff couldn’t figure out why Lucie was still a Dundee employee. Why hadn’t she quit long ago? Or better yet, why hadn’t Sawyer fired her? Who knew? Dom sure as hell didn’t want to get in the middle of anything. He’d actually dated Lucie a few times. They’d had fun, but from the get-go, it had been apparent that there weren’t any real sexual sparks between them, so they’d settled for being friends. Dom wasn’t friends with Sawyer. He respected his boss. Liked the guy. Even admired him. But Sawyer McNamara kept a definite distance between himself and his agents.

“I’m sending y’all out on new assignments today,” Sawyer said. “Read over the files I’ve given you, and if you have any questions, now’s the time to ask. And if for any reason somebody wants to swap an assignment with another agent—think twice. I chose each of you specifically for the job I assigned to you.”

They all understood that was Sawyer’s way of saying, if you don’t want the job I’ve assigned you, tough shit.

Dom opened the file folder—a rather thick dossier that included numerous copies of newspaper photos and articles as well as snapshots. The words Bedell, Inc. jumped off the pages at him. In the Southeast, the name Bedell was synonymous with old money. Generations of multi-millionaires accumulating wealth had made the current head of the family a billionaire. The original Edward Bedell, who’d settled in Tennessee before the War Between the States, had made his fortune with the railroad and later diversified. The current Edward Bedell’s holdings covered a wide span of business interests worldwide—everything from real estate and construction to pharmaceutical sales and research. But the Bedell, Inc. headquarters was based in Chattanooga where the chairman of the board lived. Edward personally oversaw the day-to-day running of his family’s corporation.

After flipping through the photos, Dom paused on a wedding picture from the Chattanooga Times Free Press dated six years ago. Audrey Bedell and Grayson Perkins. The golden couple. Studying the picture, Dom wasn’t sure who was the prettiest, Audrey or her groom. Perkins had model perfect good looks that proclaimed him too gorgeous to be a man.

“You’re sending me back to England!” Lucie pounded her fist on the table. Only once. But once was enough to shake the table and startle everyone in the room. Everyone except Sawyer, who narrowed his gaze smugly. The corners of his mouth tilted upward ever so slightly in a hint of a self-satisfied smile.

“Is there a problem with your taking this assignment in London?” Sawyer asked.

Squaring her shoulders and sitting up straight as a board, Lucie glowered at him, her henna brown eyes wide with indignation. “I spent the past two months in London and have had exactly five days downtime. From the initial report I read—” she tapped her index finger on the file folder “—I could easily be in London for another couple of months.”

“Possibly longer,” Sawyer replied.

Lucie gritted her teeth. “You could send Geoff Monday. He’s a Brit and I’d think he’d jump at the chance to go home for a while.”

“Geoff is busy on another assignment. Besides, you’ll be guarding Mr. Smirnov’s wife and children for the duration of his stay in London. He specifically requested a female agent. At present, that’s you, Ms. Evans.”

“Fine.” Lucie gathered up the contents of the file, stuffed them back into the folder, then shot up out of her chair. “I’ll check in with Daisy if I need anything.” She jerked her shoulder bag off the back of the chair and marched straight to the door, then opened it and paused momentarily. After shooting Sawyer a bird, she left the office and slammed the door behind her.

Acting as if nothing had happened, as if one of his employees hadn’t blatantly showed her disrespect, Sawyer glanced from Dom to Deke Bronson. “Finish looking over the files I gave you and if you have any questions—”

“No questions,” Deke replied in a gut-deep, gravely voice that so perfectly matched his road-hard-and-put-away-wet appearance. “I think my assignment is pretty cut and dried. No need for any lengthy explanations.”

Sawyer nodded. “Call me personally as soon as you get to California and speak to Berger. Putting his personal staff of bodyguards through the Dundee training sessions is a six-week deal, one that will make Dundee’s a great deal of money. I’m sending you because you’re the most intimidating-looking agent I have. Berger’s hard ass staff will take one look at you and obey orders.”

Expressionless, Bronson nodded.

After Deke left the room, Sawyer turned to Dom. “I assume you have questions.”

“A few,” Dom said. “First, am I handling this case alone or—”

“You’ll go in alone…initially. If you need backup, I’ll arrange it. And all of Dundee’s resources will be available, as usual.”

Dom tapped the file folder. “Why hasn’t he called in the Chattanooga PD on this? If my daughter were missing—”

“That’s just it,” Sawyer said. “He’s not one-hundred percent sure she’s actually missing. It’s just that no one has seen or heard from her in over a week.”

“I’d call that missing.”

“I agree…if Audrey Bedell Perkins was your average woman.”

“Which she isn’t.”

“That’s right,” Sawyer agreed.

“So what does Daddy Moneybags think happened to his daughter? And what does her hubby think?”

“Bedell told me that at first he feared she’d been kidnapped, but there hasn’t been either a ransom note or a phone call. He then assumed she’d gone off on one of her spur-of-the-moment trips.”

Dom eyed his boss speculatively.

“Mrs. Perkins is not the faithful type. Occasionally, she goes on vacation with her latest lover.”

“What does Mr. Perkins think about that?” Dom asked.

“I have no idea, but you’ll get a chance to ask him when you interview members of the family.”

“Not your typical all-American household.”

Sawyer chuckled, the sound little more than a muted grunt. “Hardly.”

Glancing at the file, Dom said, “Billionaire father, Edward. Spoiled-brat, thirty-year-old playgirl daughter, Audrey, who is missing. The fourth Mrs. Bedell, who is only a few years older than Bedell’s daughters. Cara Bedell, younger daughter and half sister to Audrey. And last but not least, the blue blood hubby, Grayson Perkins.”

“You have a mystery to solve,” Sawyer said. “If it begins to look like more than a rich bitch deliberately putting a few more gray hairs in Daddy’s head, contact Lieutenant Desmond of the Chattanooga PD. He’s the man you’ll want on this case if things turn nasty.”

Dom nodded. “You think somebody killed Audrey Perkins?”

“From the initial report we compiled on the lady, I think it’s possible that there are quite a few people who would like to see her dead.”

“HONESTLY , EDWARD , I don’t see why you thought it necessary to hire a private detective to find Audrey.” Patrice smoothed her hand over her neatly coiffed dark hair, styled and colored to perfection. Everything about Patrice Whitmore Bedell screamed I’m rich. “It’s not as if she hasn’t gone off on these little jaunts before.”

Cara despised her stepmother. Tall, leggy, bosomy. And young. Far too young for her father. A gold-digging whore who had stroked the high and mighty Edward Bedell’s sizeable ego and sucked his aging dick. Cara wondered how much of either the stroking or the sucking occurred now that Patrice was Mrs. Bedell.

Edward swirled the bourbon around in his glass, then glared at his wife. His fourth wife. Audrey’s mother, wife number one, had been the love of their father’s life. Unfortunately, Annaliese Bedell had died in a automobile accident when Audrey was barely two. Four years after his wife’s death, he’d remarried. Wife number two had been Cara’s mother and Edward had married Sandra Gilley only because she was pregnant. The marriage lasted until Cara was a year old, then ended in a bitter divorce. A couple of years later, her mother had committed suicide. Wife number three had come along when Audrey was twelve and Cara six, and that one had lasted ten years. Norah Lee had tried to be a mother to them. She’d failed miserably. And she’d also failed just as miserably in her three attempts to give Edward another child, praying each time to carry the child full term and praying just as hard that the baby would be a boy. She’d miscarried twice—both girls. And gave birth to a stillborn son.

Three years ago, Daddy dearest had brought home a new bride—the stepmother from hell. It hadn’t mattered so much to Audrey because she and Grayson had their own home and didn’t have to live under the same roof as that woman. Cara supposed that at twenty-four, she should have her own place, but some lingering hope deep inside her kept her here, at the Bedell mansion, close to a father who was usually indifferent to her. He’d provided for her, given her everything money could buy, but he’d never loved her. Not the way he loved Audrey. And more than anything on earth, she wanted her father to love her.

She had grown up in awe of her big sister, wanting desperately to be just like her. That, of course, had been impossible. Where Audrey was small-boned and slender, almost delicate in appearance, with a mane of fiery red hair and a temper to match, Cara was a rawboned, freckled, strawberry-blond. Audrey was the life of the party, the center of attention, a great beauty like her mother. Cara tended to be a wallflower, quiet and reserved and looked far more like their father.

“Audrey has never stayed away more than a week without letting me know where she was,” Edward said in a low, steady voice. “She would never intentionally worry me…worry any of us. Gray and Cara both feel certain something is terribly wrong and that we should search for Audrey.”

Edward downed the last drops of liquor then handed the glass to Jeremy, his minion. Or at least that’s the way Cara had always thought of her father’s servant-of-all trades—chauffeur, butler, personal assistant. Jeremy Loman possessed the appearance of a nonentity, being medium everything—from brown hair and eyes to average height and built. Not handsome. Not ugly. And he had the personality of a zombie, seldom speaking unless he was spoken to, standing guard over her father as if he had no other purpose in life.

“She’s off with that lowlife scum Bobby Jack Cash and we all know it,” Patrice said. “You’re a fool to waste money on a detective from that expensive agency in Atlanta.”

“It’s my money,” Edward told her. “And Audrey is my daughter.”

“And my wife,” a voice from the doorway said.

Everyone stilled instantly; then one by one, they turned and stared at Grayson Perkins IV. Cara’s heart did a ridiculous little rat-a-tat-tat when she looked at her brother-in-law. It had always been that way for her, ever since she first laid eyes on him when she was thirteen and he twenty-one. Gray’s mother had been on the board of some charity that Norah Lee had served on and the two became fast friends. Long after Norah Lee left the Bedell family, both Gray and his mother, Emeline, remained friendly acquaintances. Edward had handpicked Gray for Audrey, deciding that his pedigree was far more important than the money his family lacked. The Perkins family contained predecessors who were Old South blue bloods, Confederate heroes and English aristocracy.

“Come in, my boy. Come in.” Edward motioned to his son-in-law.

Gray hesitated for a split second; then, as handsome and debonair as any old Hollywood movie star, he sauntered into the living room. Gray was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature on earth. Almost too pretty to be real. Tall, slender, elegant. With dark, curly hair, chocolate brown eyes and thick lashes any woman would envy. Every feature perfect.

Cara had been in love with Gray for as long as she could remember.

“If anyone cares what I think, I believe Edward is doing the right thing by hiring a detective to find Audrey,” Gray said. “If she has run off with Bobby Jack, she could be in real trouble.”

“Oh, Gray…” Cara wished she could wrap her arms around her brother-in-law and comfort him. She’d seen that forlorn look on his face too many times during the six years he’d been married to her sister. Audrey didn’t deserve a man such as Gray. There were times when Cara wished Audrey was dead. And once or twice she’d even considered doing the deed herself.

“What time are you expecting the detective?” Gray asked.

“He’s due in any time now,” Edward said. “I expect him to arrive before lunch. He’s driving in from Atlanta.”

“I assume you’ve hired the very best money can buy.”

“Naturally. I contacted the Dundee Agency.” Edward eyed Gray inquisitively. “Why would you ask such a question?”

“It was merely rhetorical.”

“Was it?”

“She’s in love with him, you know,” Gray said matter-of-factly.

“Who’s in love with whom?” Edward asked.

Tears welled up in Grayson Perkins’s big, beautiful brown eyes. He clenched his teeth tightly.

Oh, God, he’s going to cry, Cara thought.

“Speak up, boy,” Edward said. “You can’t mean Audrey and that—”

“Yes, of course, that’s who he means.” Cara jumped in, wanting to spare Gray further inquisition. “Audrey is absolutely crazy about Bobby Jack Cash. She’s made no secret of the fact that she’s madly in love with him. She even asked Gray for a divorce.”

“What!” Edward’s face turned crimson.

“See,” Patrice chimed in adamantly. “I knew it. Your precious Audrey has run off with that scum and they’re fucking their way through Europe or the Caribbean or—” A resounding slap across her cheek silenced Patrice instantly. She staggered for a millisecond as she cried out and clutched the left side of her face with her open palm. “You bastard.” She glared menacingly at her husband, a man who, as far as Cara knew, had never before struck her.

Edward’s nostrils flared and his eyes closed to mere slits as he balled his hand into a tight fist. “Don’t you ever say anything so vulgar and crude about my daughter again. Do you understand me, woman?”

“I understand,” Patrice said. “I understand a lot more than you think I do.”

DOM HAD GROWN UP on a ranch in Texas, lived in a big sprawling old house and shared a bedroom with his older brother Rafe. The Shea family hadn’t been poor, but neither had they been rich. From the time he could walk, he could ride, and from the time he could ride, his Dad had put him to work, just as he had Rafe. Just as he did Pilar and Marta and Bianca when they got old enough. His mother, Camila, had been born and raised in Texas, but her parents had come from Mexico shortly after they married. Camila had raised her children in her Catholic faith, with great pride in both their Mexican and Irish heritages. Dom’s parents had been strict, but loving, giving their children a solid foundation on which to build.

As he entered the foyer of the massive antebellum mansion on Lookout Mountain, he wondered if being this rich is what had turned Audrey Bedell Perkins into such a notorious first-class bitch. After reading the complete file on her, Dom had come to the conclusion that if she were a member of his family, he’d be glad she had run off and probably wouldn’t want her to ever return. The lady spent her father’s money as if it grew on trees. She cheated on her husband regularly and made new enemies everywhere she went. She was both envied and despised by the whole of Chattanooga’s elite social circle.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the stiff-upper-lip butler said as he showed Dom into the living room. “Mr. Edward has been expecting you.”

Before they reached the half open double pocket doors leading from the foyer into the living room, Dom heard the sound of raised voices.

“Please, let’s not do this,” a female voice pleaded. “Gray shouldn’t have to suffer this way and poor Daddy—”

“Poor Daddy,” another female voice mimicked, none too kindly. “You’re the one everyone feels sorry for. Poor, pitiful Cara. The ugly duckling. The daughter her daddy doesn’t dote on, the sister Grayson doesn’t even know exists.”

“Shut the hell up,” a male voice commanded.

“Mr. Shea, from the Dundee Agency, is here,” the butler announced.

Silence.

Cold, hard stares focused on Dom as he entered the room. Then a large, tall man with a mane of thick white hair still streaked with reddish-brown highlights came forward, his big hand outstretched.

“I’m Edward Bedell. Come in, please.”

Dom entered the living room, feeling somewhat like an early Christian entering the coliseum in Rome. He extended his arm and shook hands with Bedell. A firm, cordial exchange. “Domingo Shea.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Shea. Your employer, Sawyer McNamara, promised me his best man. Is that what you are? Are you Dundee’s best?”

“I’m one of their best,” he replied. “My boss believes I’m the best man for this job, otherwise he wouldn’t have sent me.”

Edward Bedell nodded. “You know what I want—I want my daughter found. And you also know that money is no object. Whatever it takes, however much it costs, find Audrey.”

“Yes, sir. That’s what I intend to do.”

“I’ll answer any questions, provide you with any needed information. All you have to do is ask.”

Dom glanced around the room. “You can start by introducing me to your family. I assume they’re your family.”

Bedell cleared his throat. “Yes, they’re family.” He motioned to the leggy brunette with a set of topnotch silicone boobs. When she came forward, he slipped his arm around her waist. “This is Patrice…my wife.”

Mrs. Bedell smiled at Dom. An I’m-not-happily-married smile. A smile that made a silent but obvious offer.

“Ma’am.” Dom deliberately avoided direct eye contact with the lady. The last thing he wanted was to give the client’s wife any wrong ideas.

“And this is my younger daughter, Cara.” Bedell simply glanced at the tall, freckled, strawberry blonde who offered Dom a forced smile.

There was something sweet and downright wholesome about Cara Bedell’s appearance. But knowing her background, considering the family she came from and the lifestyle she was accustomed to, Dom figured Ms. Bedell was neither as sweet nor as wholesome as she appeared.

“This gentleman is Audrey’s husband, Grayson Perkins.” Bedell looked directly at his son-in-law. “He’s as concerned about Audrey as I am.”

“We want Audrey found,” Perkins said.

Dom studied the much-too-good-looking man. Pity Mother Nature wasted so much beauty on a guy. “Who was the last person to see Mrs. Perkins?” he asked.

Dead silence.

“I suppose I was,” Perkins finally said. “We had breakfast together, then I left for the office at about the same time she left to go shopping.”