Marry Me (14 page)

"What's up?" Faith asked.

"Hot date."

"With your new guy?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"He's surprising me."

"Ooh, that sounds exciting."

Angela grabbed her purse and had started out as Faith remembered to inquire, "What's his name?"

"Who?"

"Your new guy."

Angela had the strangest look on her face. "I'd rather not say."

"Why?"

"I'd just rather not."

"Is it a military secret or something?"

"No, I'm simply keeping it to myself."

"Okay." Faith nodded slowly.

"Don't worry, Faith. I'll tell you very soon. I promise."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"I don't want to."

"Is he someone I know?"

"No."

Dread filled Faith's stomach. "He's not married is he?"

"No, Faith, he's not married. But he might be someday—to me!"

Angela strutted out, smiling and slyly furtive in a way that concerned Faith very much.

When Angela had a boyfriend, she chatted incessantly, spewing lists of why he was amazing. Faith could never shut her up, so her evasiveness was unnerving.

Why wouldn't she gush over him? Why wouldn't she brag?

There was no satisfactory reason.

Angela was racing to another bad end. Faith could practically smell it in the air.

* * *

"Come here."

"No."

Lucas walked past the living room where Dustin was pacing in front of the huge fireplace. Though it was a pleasant summer night outside, he'd lit a fire.

He was wearing an old smoking jacket he must have found in the attic. He was playing lord of the manor and could have stepped out of a scene from a period movie about aristocratic England.

For the prior two days, Lucas had been busy with his lawyers, conferring with them about Bryce and Peanut. He was reviewing his options with regard to them. He would never try to take them from Faith, but he had to be clear about their relationships. What were his rights? What were his responsibilities?

He hadn't had a moment to call Faith, and he was stunned to find himself missing her very much. He'd only known her for a few weeks. How had she inserted herself into the center of his life so completely?

"Lucas!" Dustin snapped when Lucas kept going.

"What?" He stopped and turned around.

"I have to talk to you."

"I'll be here tomorrow."

"Now. It's important."

"Let me guess," Lucas snidely said. "Brittney broke a nail. Mother's checking account is overdrawn again. You deal with it for once."

"It doesn't have anything to do with them."

"Good. I'm tired of this whole charade. All of you can fend for yourselves. Leave me out of it."

"I need you to listen to something. It will only take a minute."

A muscle ticked in Lucas's cheek.

He didn't want to fuss with Dustin, didn't want to fight or debate. He wanted to get in his car and drive to Boulder so he could be with Faith.

He'd hired a realtor and had him searching for a place in Boulder so Lucas could live there off and on. He liked the town, and there was no reason it couldn't be his base as opposed to other spots on the globe. If he had a house in Boulder, he'd have an excuse to see Faith. He could drop by to visit Peanut and Bryce. He could attend more of Bryce's games.

Since he'd met Faith, his world was changing so rapidly that he was almost dizzy with trying to keep up. Yet from the determined gleam in Dustin's eye, his brother wouldn't quit yapping until Lucas did as he'd demanded. Sometimes, it was easier to relent.

"I'll give you five minutes," Lucas said. "Make it fast."

He flopped down on the couch, watching as Dustin sat in the chair across. Dustin pulled out a small tape recorder and laid it on the table.

"I want you to hear this," Dustin explained.

"What is it?"

"A conversation."

"All right."

"First, though, I need to tell you that I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About this supposed kid you have."

"I don't have a
supposed
kid," Lucas snapped. "I have a son named Bryce. He's ten. And you and I have a half-sister named
Peanut. She's four."

"Mother says they're not related to us. She says it's all a big lie."

"Mother is a…"

With a curse, Lucas bit off his remark. There was no point in crude insults.

"You're all stirred up," Dustin said, "and I feel bad about that."

"You'd be stirred up too if you'd had the week I just had."

"I guess you've been spending time with Faith Benjamin."

"What if I have?"

"I think you like her more than you should."

"Not
more.
I simply like her. She's terrific."

"Okay, she's terrific," Dustin agreed, avoiding a quarrel. "Listen to this—to the entire thing. Don't comment until the end."

"What is it?"

"It's a recording of her—speaking confidentially with an acquaintance of mine."

"A recording? You wired somebody to tape her? Why?"

"I thought we should. You're all hot to let her keep the money, and now, she's got you worked up over these kids."

"Just play the damn tape."

Dustin sighed, actually looking remorseful, as he leaned forward and hit the
on
button. There was some static, then Faith's voice was clearly audible. Lucas had no doubt it was her.

You know I only like men who shower me with millions
.

Like Harold?

Yes. What are a few paltry diamonds when I can have the whole bank account?

It was great, how you tricked him into leaving you his estate. The poor guy didn't stand a chance.

Not after I'd worked my feminine wiles on him. I had him so confused he didn't know up from down.

Lucas grabbed the recorder and slammed it off. A deadly silence filled the room.

"Where did you get this?" he seethed.

"I told you:  An acquaintance of mine got her talking. I
wanted you to see a different side of her." Dustin nodded at the recorder. "Turn it back on. You have to hear the rest."

Lucas couldn't bear to, but he felt as if a magnet was dragging his thumb to start it again.

It was so amusing to tie him to that chair, to badger him:  Sign the papers, Harold. Sign the papers.

Did you hold his hand when he signed his will?

I didn't have to hold his hand. He was so terrified of me that he was scared to disobey.  

Lucas gasped and shut it off. For an eternity, he stared at it, pondering, wondering. He'd assumed he knew Faith. Could she have tricked him? Was she a greedy, cruel manipulator?

He didn't believe it. He was no fool. She couldn't have deceived him so completely.

He glared at his brother, hating him suddenly, and he took a deep breath, struggling for calm.

"Who is the woman with her?"

"Her foster sister. Her name is Angela Turner. They were raised together as teens in Vegas."

"I've met Angela. I was under the impression they were close. How did you persuade her to betray Faith?"

"The right promises can convince some people to do all sorts of things they wouldn't normally do."

Lucas scoffed. "You slept with her, I suppose."

Unrepentant, Dustin shrugged.

"Does she think you're hot for her now?" Lucas asked.

"I wouldn't try to guess her opinion."

"A convenient answer."

"To a pointless question."

Another protracted silence ensued, as Lucas reflected. Faith's horrid words couldn't be true, but there was no mistaking her voice or comments.

Why would she blithely admit to committing crimes? She'd be risking everything, including prosecution and jail time. Then again, Angela was a friend and family member. Faith would never suspect that Angela might have an ulterior motive. She'd be candid in a manner she wouldn't be with anyone else.

Dustin interrupted his miserable reverie.

"You shouldn't," Dustin warned, "automatically accept what she told you about those kids."

"Why not?"

"You need DNA tests, and if they come back as a match, we have to get them away from her."

"I don't know what to believe, Dustin."

"Dammit, Lucas, what do I have to do to make you open your eyes? Whack you over the head with a two-by-four?"

"If you'd met her, if you'd met Bryce and Peanut…"

"She's a con artist, Lucas." He reached over and grabbed the recorder. "She brags about it. Listen!"

He hit the play button again.

You know me. It's all about expensive clothes and cars and jewelry. It's all I think about; it's all I want.

"What are you asking me?" Lucas fumed. "Do you want me to confront her?"

"No! I want you to sue her! I want you to have her arrested!"

Lucas studied his brother, torn over how to proceed. It seemed wrong to go after her, but on the tape she sounded so ruthless.

What was right? What did she deserve? What should happen to her?

"I can't decide," he muttered. "I have to consider this."

"You're joking. Has she bewitched you? Has she put you under some sort of spell? Why can't you see through her game?"

"I'm not sure it's a
game
. Give me tonight. I need to figure out what's best."

Dustin threw up his hands in disgust. "You're insane. You have absolutely leapt off the deep end."

"Maybe." Lucas pushed himself off the sofa. "We'll talk in the morning. I'll let you know how I plan to handle this."

"You're not the only one who has a choice."

"What?"

"Brittney and I have a stake in this too, and we won't sit quietly while you screw it up."

Lucas was too weary to continue the argument.

"We'll talk in the morning," he repeated. "First thing."

He stumbled out like a blind man, unable to find his way.

CHAPTER NINE

The phone rang, and Faith leapt to answer it. She was positive it would be Lucas.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Merriweather?" an unfamiliar male voice asked.

"There's no one here by that name."

"Faith Merriweather?"

"I'm Faith Benjamin."

"But you were married to Harold Merriweather, right?"

"Well…yes."

"Hi, Ms. Benjamin. I'm a reporter with the—"

She cut him off. "A reporter?"

"Yes, and I'd like to know if you have any comment."

"About what?"

"About the charges Lucas Merriweather's attorney levied against you this morning at the press conference."

Faith's stomach dropped to her toes. "What charges?"

"Let's see, there's elder abuse, fraud, theft—"

Faith hung up and hurried over to the front window. The drapes were closed, and she pulled back a corner to peek outside. There was a TV news van parked by the curb. Several technicians were hustling about, fussing with gear. A bored newscaster watched them, holding a microphone and obviously waiting to go on the air.

Faith went to the kitchen where Gracie was drinking coffee. There was a small television on the counter, and Faith punched the power button.

Gracie frowned. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure."

"Who was on the phone?"

"A reporter. He wanted to know if I had any comment about Lucas's
charges
of elder abuse against Harold."

"You're kidding me."

"I hung up on him."

They sat, stunned, staring at the TV, as the morning news show droned on.

Just before a commercial break, the anchor said, "In local news, lawyers for Lucas Merriweather, CEO of prominent Colorado company, Merriweather Industries, announced today that the Merriweather family would be meeting with Boulder police to discuss filing of charges against the young widow of Merriweather patriarch, Harold Merriweather. Merriweather died in December at the age of ninety."

Gracie gasped as Faith hissed, "That bastard."

"He seemed so nice," Gracie complained. "I can't believe he'd do that to you."

Faith couldn't bear to listen to the rest. She grabbed the remote and hit mute, but they continued to gape at the screen.