A Just Deception (23 page)

At eight-thirty the next morning, with the sun pounding onto the patio bricks, Peter held the back door open for Izzy.

He stalked toward the middle of the grass and slugged a shot of coffee from the mug he held.

More
.
Coffee
.

Sleep had eluded him after the sneak and peek, and mainlining coffee would be the only way to boot him up. The overload would make him irritable as all hell, but life sucked that way. After all these years he was used to it.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Seth took Mary Beth and the girls into town for something. They should be back by lunchtime. Courtney is in the shower. Where are we going?”

“Away from the house. I don’t want to be overheard.”

He stopped in the middle of the backyard where the swings rocked in the wind. This fucking place. It looked like Fantasyland, but nothing about it sat right with him. And the doctor’s office in the basement was just the tip of it.

These assholes weren’t even trying to hide the money they threw around. What the hell would a non-profit be doing with five thousand dollars worth of granite countertops? Not to mention the fancy appliances and flat screen television.

He turned to Izzy. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep and edginess filled him.

“Nice work last night,” he said. “I’m not happy Seth is so taken with you, but it worked.”

He gulped more coffee. Seth Donner wanted Izzy. Simple fact. Nothing shocking considering her unbelievable hotness, but having her flaunt it to get what she needed was tough to watch.

She knew how to get the job done, but he didn’t want her using her body to do it. Or at least he wanted her to be uncomfortable about it. And he didn’t seem to be getting his way in either case. Which pissed him off.

Don’t judge
.

Reminding himself of her sexual abuse and the resulting birth of Creepy Izzy kept him from going insane. She thought of sex as a weapon in her arsenal. Nothing emotional about it.

Maybe this pissed-off-at-the-world attitude was about Seth. Or, maybe Peter was freaking exhausted. Not so much physical exhaustion. He could go a couple of days on minimal sleep. But the mental shit was eating him alive. He wanted Izzy out of this place and away from Seth. Something fucked-up was happening here, and she didn’t have the undercover experience to recognize danger.

“What did you find in the basement?”

Peter inclined his head, taking in his favorite do-rag wrapped around her head. “It’s a medical office.”

This information must have slammed into her with the force of a category five hurricane because she stepped back. “In the
basement
?”

“It’s set up like an OB/GYN office. Medical supplies. An examining table with stirrups. The whole bit. Where does Courtney go for her doctor’s appointments?”

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t know. I offered to drive her, but she said it’s not a problem.”

Peter exhaled a sickening breath. “Probably because they’re doing them in the
basement
.”

“But who’s playing doctor?”

“Don’t know.” He drained the last of his coffee and rolled the mug between his palms. “I found a set of women’s maternity clothes and underwear with some blood. Not a lot, but enough.”

Izzy put her hands over her face and slid them down. “Oh my God.”

“We need to know if Nicole Pratt was pregnant when she left here. If she left.”

Then I want to get you the hell out of here
.

Peter had broken the supreme rule of not getting emotional about an op. Knowing he could screw up and get Izzy hurt plunged into him.

Billy’s advice about not trying to control every damned thing filtered back.
Focus on the mission.

“I talked to Janet at my office. She’ll send you an email to forward to Seth. She’ll plant a virus in the email that should let her grab what’s on his hard drive. In the meantime, we need to ask Courtney about the basement. See what she has to say.” He inhaled sharply as the full brunt of the coffee attacked his empty stomach. “This coffee is killing me.”

Izzy eyed him. “
I’ll
talk to Courtney. You’re crabby and I don’t want Courtney upset.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not going to upset her.”

But he would push her. Hard. No problem there. Not if it meant finding Nicole Pratt. A vision of a dead pregnant girl flashed into his mind. Jesus, he’d never get that out of there.

“She’s skittish. If you intimidate her, we’ll get nothing.”

The patio door opened and Courtney, dressed in an oversized sleeveless maternity top and shorts, came outside. The strap of the top slipped down her shoulder and she righted it before approaching them.

“Hey, Isabelle,” she said. “Rich boy, you’re dressed down today.”

Peter glanced down at his khaki shorts and golf shirt. If she only knew. “Yeah. This is more my speed.”

Courtney’s gaze swung between them. “What are you guys doing?”

“I was having coffee before heading down to the cabins to find the residents I missed yesterday.”

Izzy nodded. “He’s trying to get all his interviews done today because he’s leaving in the morning.”

Yeah, he had one day to wrap this shit up and get her out of here.

He was so screwed.

Unless someone—like Courtney—started talking.

Courtney shifted back to Peter. “How’s that going? The interviews?”

“Well, I’ll tell ya,” he said in a tone Izzy clearly didn’t like because she shot him a WTF look.
Sorry, babe
.
Business to transact.
“I’m getting a weird vibe.”

“Peter—” she said.

But he ignored her and kept a hard stare on Courtney. “Like something’s not right in Oz. You have any thoughts on that?”

Courtney swayed a little and Izzy reached a hand to her. “Are you okay?”

She bobbed her head up and down and sent her long blond ponytail bouncing. “I’m fine. Just a dizzy spell. It happens sometimes.”

“Courtney?” Peter needed answers and she had them. He was sure of it.

“Why would I know anything? I’m just minding my own business until I have this baby and I can leave.”

“Right,” he said. “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

Courtney’s eyes went wild. Literally shifting all over the place. “Why?”

“Okay.” Isabelle grabbed Courtney’s arm. “We’re done here. Peter can go do his interviews while we have breakfast.”

The two women started toward the house and Izzy hurled him a sneer over her shoulder.
Yep. She’s pissed.
Nothing he could do about that.

“You ladies do that. I’ll be back in a while.”

And I want some goddamned answers
.

“Yeesh,” Courtney said as she and Isabelle walked to the house. “What’s his problem?

Isabelle snorted a not-so-amused laugh at Courtney’s mind reading abilities. “I was thinking the same thing.”

They entered the kitchen and Isabelle went to the fridge and grabbed the eggs and some cheddar cheese. “Omelet sound good?”

“Sure,” Courtney said. “High protein.”

Isabelle started cracking eggs into a large bowl. She blasted one and the shell disintegrated.
Take a breath
. She fished the pieces of broken shell out of the bowl. “I’m sorry about Peter. His radar is beeping on something. He’s worried he’s going to give half a million dollars to a charity that doesn’t deserve it.”

Courtney gagged. “Half. A million.”

“You can see why he’s concerned. Half a mil is half a mil, and Peter is a smart man. Even if he acts like an ass at times.”

“Wow.”

Isabelle cracked the last egg, threw the shell away and started scrambling with a ferocity that should have rocked the house. “Courtney, I don’t know what Peter is sensing but his instincts are good.”

Courtney wiggled her head back and forth. “I don’t know anything.”

Isabelle held up a hand. “Relax. I just want you to know if you need something, you can come to me. I have no loyalties to Seth. Frankly, I came here to close the door on my own demons and I’m not sure it’s working. I’m leaving soon, but I’ll give you my numbers. Even if I’m not here, it doesn’t mean you can’t come to me.”

The stiffness in Courtney’s shoulders melted, and she collapsed against the back of the stool. She brought her gaze to Isabelle’s.

Thinking.

Isabelle put the bowl aside and reached across the counter. “I’ll help you.”

Tears moistened the girl’s eyes and the air stilled in contrast to Isabelle’s pounding heart. Courtney had something to say.

What is going on with her?

“I’ll help you,” she repeated.

Courtney swiped at her tears. “I can’t. I just need to have this baby and get out of here.”

“I’ll help you after you have the baby.
Peter
will help you. We’ll find you a job and put a roof over your head. You can leave this all behind. If you change your mind and want to keep the baby, we’ll help with that also. There are plenty of single mothers out there.”

But Courtney did the panicked head shake again. “No. The decision about the baby has already been made.”

A whipping anger smacked at Isabelle. “You keep saying that. Are you not allowed to change your mind? I change my mind five thousand times a day over inconsequential things. Give yourself a break. If you want this baby, then keep her.”

She bit down on her lip and stepped back.
That
was something. Regret licked at her for shooting off her mouth.

“Screw you,” Courtney said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go ahead and leave.”

“Courtney—”

“Shut up!” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t need you telling me my life could be different. I don’t have your education. I’m just trying to survive and you’re going to mess it up!”

“Hold on,” Isabelle said, coming around the breakfast bar. Courtney stood and squared off with her, her eyes cold and hard, like the light had been snuffed. Isabelle knew that kind of cold. She’d been living with it for years.

She took a tentative step closer and waited. Courtney stood stone still. No movement. Good. She slowly put her arms around the frightened girl and the hard lump of Courtney’s belly pressed against her midsection.

They remained in the quiet of the kitchen, swaying a little in the embrace. “I’m sorry I made you angry.”

“You can’t help me,” Courtney said, her voice hitching with tears as she hugged back. “It’s too late.”

And with that, she broke away from Isabelle and hurried from the room.

Isabelle exhaled. Almost. She almost had her. Courtney wanted to talk.

She just didn’t know it yet.

After Seth had returned home with Mary Beth and the girls, Isabelle walked into the kitchen to find the women preparing lunch while he did his usual disappearing act. Mary Beth stood at the stove browning meat and wearing a baggy T-shirt that said Go Ahead, Make My Day. How appropriate.

Isabelle nodded. “Can I help?”

“No. I’ve got it.”

“Fine.” She glanced around the kitchen, stepped into a stream of sunlight from the glass door and tilted her face up. She suddenly yearned for the normalcy of going to her office every day.

She needed to
do
something. The morning run-in with Courtney had churned her into a sour mood. She was so far over her head she should be staring up at the curb.

“Have you seen Peter?” she asked.

“I think he’s down at the cabins.”

Isabelle pulled the door open. “I’ll find him.”

Where could he have disappeared to? Being a smart man, he was probably hiding from the tongue-lashing she wanted to give him. She whipped out her cell phone and sent him a text while she tromped down the path toward the cabins. The exercise gave her muscles a long overdue workout, but these little snatches of exercise didn’t compare to the ass kicking she usually gave her heavy bag. The heavy bag helped her cope and her mind and body craved the release.

A few minutes later her phone beeped and she punched the button to read the text. Peter.
Talking to a family in the last cabin
.
Almost done. Wait
.

Great. She kept walking. Thick hundred-year-old trees separated the cabins and offered shelter from the sun’s heat. Five minutes later Peter emerged from the cabin. She picked up her pace to meet him by the end of the path. “Where’ve you been all morning?”

He waved his hand toward the cabins. “I’ve been talking to all these people. One lost his job and got his house foreclosed. One is on disability and can’t support her kids. One has cancer and can’t afford the medical bills.”

“I know,” she said. “It makes me appreciate my life.”

“No shit.” Peter jerked his thumb at the cabin he’d just come from. “Did you meet this guy? He hated Kendrick. Apparently, Kendrick had a thing for his teenage daughter.”

“Oh no.”

“It’s fine. He told the daughter to stay away from Kendrick. She’s a good girl and did so.”

“Did you meet the family with the pregnant sixteen-year-old?”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah. That guy. He was interesting. Did you know they got here through the same place that sent Courtney here?”

Wow
. “I
didn’t
know that.”

“They’re all good, hardworking people. They don’t deserve this.” He shook his head. “This place is a breeding ground for the downtrodden.”

“They’re trying to make—”

Breeding ground
.

“What?” he asked.

Isabelle ran her fingers over her mouth and focused on the tree behind Peter.
Breeding ground
. What an odd way to put it, but she supposed he was right. At least they had shelter, food and an opportunity to find work from Seth’s organization. Even if it was a front.

Breeding ground
.

She tilted her head and silently replayed her conversations with Courtney.

“What?” Peter repeated.

And the way they’d all grimaced when she made the crack about not drinking the water because it made everyone pregnant.

The medical office.

Peter snapped his fingers in her face. “Izzy?”

The decision is made
.

“I think I know,” she said.

How could they have not seen this? She slid her hands down her face and wiped away the salty moisture of her sweat.
No. No. No.
It couldn’t be. Her eyes nearly exploded from the pressure behind them. “Could they be breeding babies? Selling them on the black market?”

Peter squinted and she reached out, grasped his wrists. “That’s why Courtney keeps telling me the decision has been made. All the pregnant girls? The OB office in the basement? He probably has a doctor come in and pays all of the medical expenses out of the fees he collects for the babies.”

Sickness swelled in her throat, and she stepped away in case she vomited. “I read about a black market baby ring in one of my law journals. The babies can go for up to a hundred thousand dollars.”

“And he’s got five of them on the way.”

“Courtney and the other girl came here from that counseling center. Maybe they’re in on it.”

And…
No
. Isabelle stretched her arms and fingers wide in front of her as paralyzing thoughts banged around inside her skull. “The prison you followed Seth’s lunch date to,” she croaked. “Maybe Sampson can find out how many pregnant women have been there and gave their babies up for adoption.”

“Oh, Christ,” Peter said. “That can’t be.”

She shook her head to free her brain from badgering thoughts of prisons and counseling centers and defeated young women. “I need to get into Seth’s computer. Fast. There must be something on there.” She turned and started up the path. “I’m going up to check my email. Maybe that message from your office came.”

She’d see if she could borrow Seth’s computer to check her email…and forward him a corrupt file.

Seth stood in front of the filing cabinet reading a report. He wore that same basic outfit of chinos and a collared shirt and Isabelle was absolutely sick of him. He turned to her and his gaze locked onto her chest.

Sick of that too.

But she needed to get onto his computer and forward him that file.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I check my email?”

He glanced at the computer. “Of course.”

“I’ll just be a second.” She scooted by him, felt the brush of his hand against her leg and bit down to keep from screaming at him. Her own fault for flirting and encouraging his behavior.

That would end soon. For now, she looked over her shoulder and forced a smile.

She logged into her email account. Lots there, but nothing from Peter’s office. She gritted her teeth while closing her email. Where the hell was that corrupted message? Now, more than ever, she needed to see what was on Seth’s hard drive. If this man was demoralizing women and selling their babies, she wanted to obliterate him. She wanted to watch the FBI handcuff the bastard and lock him up. She wanted to watch Seth Donner, disgusting, vile human being that he was, lose the life he knew.

“Problem?” Seth asked.

She slowly spun the chair. He stared at her a minute. She stared back. Oh, she knew what he wanted. If only she could trade what
he
wanted for what
she
wanted. If slimy bartering would get her into that computer and help find a missing girl, she’d call it a done deal.

Even she wasn’t twisted enough to believe Seth would give her the passwords in exchange for sex. And if Peter knew she was even thinking it, he’d go crazy.

But she needed answers and those answers were somewhere in this house.

Maybe the computer wasn’t the answer.

Hadn’t Kendrick come to her seeking legal advice? Perhaps Seth still needed that advice and, lucky him, here she was. All she needed was for him to tell her why Kendrick sought her out. It would be a start.

This could be a plan. She’d seduce him, get some pillow talk going and who knew, maybe she’d walk away with a nugget that would lead to answers.

Besides, Creepy Izzy could take the wheel. Her skills were more than adequate in that department.

Hang on
. Could she really be thinking this?

Seth inched closer. He wanted her. Yes, she was really thinking this. She could work him until he was so crazy with need he’d confide in her. That, combined with the email to copy his files, could be all they needed. Maybe she’d find out whose panties Peter found in the basement.

“I have a lot to do,” she said, answering his question and loading him up on eye contact.

And there it was. That casual stance coupled with the lusting focus on her. She’d seen this predatory hunger in men for years now.
Here we go
.

“You are an exceptional creature, Isabelle.”

The chaos in her mind began to tick and she closed her eyes.

You can do this
.

Creepy Izzy.
Thank you.
She opened her eyes—Peter called them man killers—and gazed up at Seth.

She’d make this quick and simple. Just shut the door behind her, confess her deep longing to screw his brains out, blah, blah, blah. She’d tell him how much she’d been enjoying her stay and would, after all, like to spend some time with him.

Alone.

At which point, he’d look at her tits again, and she’d step closer instead of drawing away.

Then she’d kiss him. Let him pull her shirt off and…a sour taste flooded her mouth.

No. Don’t think.

This could work. With Peter still down at the cabins the whole thing would be easier.

Forget him. Find Nicole. Help Courtney.
That’s all she had to do. Sex was nothing for Creepy Izzy.

She stood and took the few steps toward Seth.

“Did you need something?” he asked.

“If you’re not busy, I thought we could spend some time together.”

His ruddy cheeks bunched with a knowing grin, and Isabelle swallowed hard at the vision of Peter’s strong face flashing in front of her.

Don’t think about him.

Seth reached behind her and closed the door. “I’d like that.”

Wait. She was supposed to close the door. This was
her
plan. Not his. No.
She
needed to control this situation.

Instead of walking to his desk, he motioned Isabelle to the black leather sofa and sat next to her. Seth was having no problem with her I-want-to-screw-you signals because he scooched closer and draped his arm behind her head.

A skittering angst shot up her arms at the personal space invasion.
You can do this
. She shifted sideways, crossed one leg over the other and let her top leg rub his knee. “I wanted to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed it here.”

He dropped his hand on her leg, his stubby, sweaty fingers rubbing and working up…up…up. Too fast. He inched closer and with her heart pounding, she found herself backing away. Something felt…off. She placed her hand over his to stop its movement.

Stick to your script
. She needed to kiss him first.

He took a long, analyzing perusal of her legs and half grinned as he squeezed the inside of her thigh and nudged his hand up. “I think you know I’ve enjoyed having you here. And I think we’re both going to enjoy you staying a little longer.”

This is it.
She licked her bottom lip, saw the shock of pleasure in his smile and leaned forward. He met her halfway and kissed her, gently at first and the feel of his dry, nasty lips against hers sent her stomach into a full-blown churn.

She squeezed her eyes closed, prayed for Creepy Izzy to stay put. Seth opened his mouth wider, jammed his tongue into her mouth and leaned over her, his bigger body pressing her backward.

Sickness devoured her, filled every pore, and she squeezed her eyes even tighter. The tears were building, coming too fast.

Nothing about this felt right. When Peter kissed her, she felt happy and light. This kiss, the aggression, that disgusting tongue in her mouth, invading her, caused bile to pool in her throat.

Peter would never kiss her this way.

She retreated, pressing on Seth’s chest to give herself some room and take a breath. To organize her plan and get Peter out of her head. Bad enough she’d have to face him when this was over. She’d have to look into those beautiful eyes and know she’d destroyed him. Thrown away every decent thing he’d given her.

For what? She wanted to find a missing girl, but to what end? How many lives would she obliterate to get there? No, she couldn’t do this. Even as Creepy Izzy, it was more than she could handle. Peter would be too much of a sacrifice.

Isabelle turned away, her back almost to Seth, but he knew what he wanted and grabbed her hip, digging his fingers in to hold her in place.

He laughed. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Back him off
.

She hooked her fingers around the arm of the chair to pull herself from his grasp just as the door slowly opened.

Peter. A swelling panic submerged her, its violence stealing her breath. His face held a harshness she’d never seen. His gaze traveled to Seth’s hand as it landed on her ass.
You’ve lost him now
.

“Don’t you knock?” Seth asked, his hands still on her.

No reaction from Peter.

But the shame she’d been hording for so long surged, and her mind went back to the day her uncle walked into his study and discovered his son’s ugly secret. She pushed the thought away.
Control this
. She glanced up to Peter, who stood impossibly still.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

Immediately, she understood. Peter didn’t know what he’d walked into. Was she being attacked or was this part of her game?

He waited for her to answer. If she said no—not a complete lie because at this moment she was far from okay—he’d haul her out of there. She’d convince him it wasn’t her fault. With the way Seth was hanging on to her, she could let Peter think she hadn’t willingly used her body to get information. Even if it hurt him, she could do it.

Or she could be one hundred percent truthful and answer yes because she’d never lied to Peter. That honesty would cost her and she would suffer his derision. The loss of him.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

And Seth laughed. “Oh, she’s just fine, aren’t you, honey?”

She had to say something because Peter, being Peter, wouldn’t stand there forever. He didn’t have it in him to be idle. Not with Seth taunting him. No, if his wiggling fingers were any indication, in a few seconds he would take control of the situation.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

He straightened and took a step backward. His expression hadn’t changed—not much anyway—but for a brief second he pinched his lips tight and the hurt and anger reached her.