Cross My Heart (24 page)

“No! Paul wouldn't kill anyone. He wouldn't hurt anyone,” Anna Marie insisted, her voice rising.

Molly held on to the woman's hand. “Addiction does strange things to people,” she said softly.

Lacey's head buzzed as she tried to process this theory. “If he'd succeeded in killing me, Uncle Marc would have inherited the money and
he'd
be the one to find out about the embezzlement.”

Ty nodded. “Exactly.”

“So maybe it
never
was Uncle Marc who was behind the attempts on my life.” Lacey couldn't believe the relief she felt on voicing the possibility aloud.

Molly stepped forward. “Maybe Paul wanted you both dead,” she suggested.

“But Derek and I showed up in time to stop him,” Ty said.

Lacey felt light-headed and dizzy. “That still doesn't explain why Uncle Marc would come to see me that day.”

Ty shrugged. “Some things we need him to answer for us, but in the meantime…” He flipped open his cell phone and dialed. “Chief?” He spoke into his cell phone. “It's Ty Benson.”

Ten minutes later, the chief of police showed up at Anna Marie's house, the district attorney along with him. They listened as a crying but now calmer Anna Marie told the truth about her brother borrowing the car which they'd ID'd at the site of the shooting.

The police and the D.A. agreed they had enough proof to arrest Paul Dunne for a host of things, including the attempted murder of Marc Dumont and obstruction of justice in asking his sister to lie to the police about her car. They put out an APB on Paul Dunne.

In addition, the D.A. headed to court to obtain a search warrant for the man's garage to search for Anna Marie's car; and another warrant for his house and office to look at the trust fund files and documents. If Dunne had been embezzling from Lacey's trust in order to pay off his gambling debts, his motive for the shooting and even the arson at Ty's would be clear.

As for Anna Marie, no charges were filed against her because she'd come forward of her own free will. Knowing how much she loved her brother, turning him in was punishment enough. Like her gossip, this lie had been told with no ill intentions.

But until Paul Dunne had been arrested, and he and Uncle Marc revealed their motivations and roles in each event, Lacey remained in the dark and confused.

Much like she was about her life and her future.

M
arc finished giving his statement to the police. He'd left nothing out. He had nothing left to hide.

With a stenographer present in his hospital room, he'd admitted everything leading up to the moment of his shooting, from the day he'd fallen in love with Rhona, lost her to his golden-boy brother, Eric, and become guardian to their daughter Lilly.

He'd included his foster care scheme in the story along with his hope that by scaring Lilly, she'd return pliant and willing to sign her trust fund over to him. Of course in his recent sobriety, he'd realized that she probably couldn't legally sign over anything until after she'd inherited at the age of twenty-seven, but alcohol had dulled his wits, and he'd believed in dreams of money coming his way. He explained how he knew Paul Dunne had embezzled, although not to the extent that he had.

And he admitted to getting trust money from Dunne to pay Flo Benson to take Lilly into her home and claim it was foster care. That one had elicited a shocked gasp from Lilly and a groan from Tyler Benson. Of course Tyler and his friend Hunter had been more than happy to hear him admit to using influence to have Hunter pulled from the Benson home after Lilly's ‘death'. He'd neglected to go into detail about their role in faking Lilly's death—information he'd learned from Molly—because Marc had caused enough pain over the years. Everyone assumed she'd run away and as far as he was now concerned, that is what she'd done. Bravo for her.

Part of Marc's AA program was about apologizing and taking responsibility. It looked as if he was doing it big-time today. He told the police about how Paul Dunne had been behind the near hit-and-run on Lilly as well as the fire at Ty's apartment. He described the other man's plan to have Marc do his dirty work and included Dunne's threat to frame Marc either way. He'd refused, calling the other man on his cell phone the day of the shooting.

Marc's solution instead had been to go to Lilly and tell her the truth. Unfortunately Dunne had been scared to death that Marc would reveal all of his transgressions. His fear of losing his status as a respected attorney had overwhelmed him. While Marc had been worrying about waylaying Tyler Benson's watchdog P.I., Dunne had followed him to see Lilly. Marc had been so preoccupied, he'd never seen the man until he felt the burning, searing pain in his back.

Though he'd turned his life around and was actually helping the police capture the guilty party, the woman he was supposed to marry wasn't impressed with him. Francie's scowl and cool attitude froze the room. Marc sensed it without looking her way. Their confrontation would come next, he was sure. After which, she would stomp out in her Jimmy Choos that were probably on his current credit card statement. Next time around, he needed to find a poor woman with few needs except love, he thought wryly.

Then there was Molly. She stood behind her mother's chair. A good woman, she'd taken this hard because in Marc, she'd seen a chance at family. The poor girl had made the mistake of putting her hopes in him. He'd disappointed everyone in his life. The bright-eyed lawyer would be no different. But he'd have been proud to call her his daughter and he needed to tell her so. For all the good it would do.

What a goddamn mess.

The police finally took off, as did Ty, Hunter and Lilly, all without a word. They knew better than to stick around for the show. But he and Lilly had unfinished business to discuss, assuming he was still conscious when Francie was finished with him. Marc didn't wonder where his sense of humor was coming from. It was all he had left, all he owned, all he could proudly claim.

Francie strode to his bedside, a place she hadn't visited since his admission. “This isn't going to work,” she said.

He leaned his head back against the pillows, exhaustion overwhelming him. “What, no how are you feeling? No I'm sorry I haven't visited?”

“Oh please don't tell me
you're
the wounded party,” Francie said.

He raised an eyebrow—the one part of his body that would work right now. “The only part of you that's been wounded is your wallet, Francie. The sad part is, I truly loved you. Which shows you how little I think of myself and what I deserve out of life.”

She walked over and braced her hands on the bed. Her position gave him an ample look down her white fitted jacket, into her ample cleavage. Which, he proudly noted, he hadn't paid for.

“Is that your pathetic way of saying you're sorry?” Francie asked.

“It's my way of saying we want different things in a relationship.”

Molly coughed and turned away.

Francie rose and squared her shoulders. “I never lied to you about enjoying money and now that you have none—”

“Please don't concern yourself,” he told her. Surprisingly, he meant it. He'd been preparing himself for this day since he'd learned Lilly was still alive. “I wish you well.”

She inclined her head. “The same here. I have an eight-o'clock flight tonight for London.”

Molly sucked in a sharp breath. For the first time, Marc felt a real pang of regret. Not for himself, but for Molly.

“I'm assuming you charged it?” he asked wryly.

She had the good grace to flush.

He shook his head. “Find yourself a rich one, Francine. You need it.”

She kissed his cheek and sashayed out of the room. Marc's gaze never strayed from Molly's pale face.

Francie paused in the doorway. “Molly?”

Marc held his breath.

“Yes?” She held on to the back of the chair with a death grip, her knuckles white.

In her eyes, he saw pure hope and knew the disappointment to come would hurt her worse than anything else today.

“I left a box of things at Marc's. When I'm settled, I'll call with an address. Please ship them to me, will you, dear?”

“I'll see to it,” Marc said, before Molly was forced to answer and probably burst into tears.

She blew a kiss that could have been directed at him or at her daughter before walking out the door without looking back. She didn't care which of them she'd hurt. Which made him wonder why he'd loved her at all, but he knew. He'd been taken in by his good fortune—he'd had so little in his life.

Marc held out his arms and Molly crawled right in, careful not to jostle or hurt him in any way. After the brief hug, she stepped back.

“I wish you were my daughter,” he told her, knowing somebody had to love this girl.

She smiled, a sad one that broke his heart. “For what it's worth, I believed in you. You know, about not being behind the attempts on Lilly's life. You didn't disappoint me.” She stepped back to the foot of the bed.

“That means a lot.” His eyelids grew heavy, complete exhaustion setting in. “When I'm out of here, what do you say we order in pizza and just talk?”

Molly leaned against the end of the bed frame. “I would love to but I'm not going to stay around. I care about you but now that I know you're going to be okay, I need to go.”

“Where?” he asked, understanding even if it hurt.

She shrugged. “Anywhere far away.”

“You don't have a license to practice law
anywhere,
” he reminded her.

“I know. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet. But I just can't stay here with all the memories and could-have-beens surrounding me.”

“What about Hunter?” Marc asked. He'd noticed the chemistry between them. He knew the man cared for Molly. He'd seen it in Hunter's eyes when he looked at her. And as hard as it was for Marc to admit, he knew Hunter would take care of her the way she deserved to be cared for.

“Hunter deserves a woman who has her shit together. I'm a mess,” Molly said bluntly.

Marc nodded. He didn't blame her for feeling that way. “Give it time. You never know what the future holds. Keep in touch?” he asked hopefully.

She nodded. “I'll stop by before I leave for good.”

But in Marc's mind, she was already gone. He'd lost the one person who believed in him. That was okay though. He needed to learn to rely on himself. One of the doctors who'd come to see him had suggested he enroll in private therapy as well as AA. He would, if he could afford it. Once Lilly inherited and threw him out of the house, he'd have to cough up rent, homeowners insurance, all things that had come under the umbrella that was Lilly's trust fund.

He'd have to live like a grown man. What a concept. And he'd thought he had his hands full fighting the need for a drink. Still, he realized that with his confessions to the police and the people he'd hurt in his life, he wasn't feeling sorry for himself. Instead he was looking ahead.

And that, Marc thought, was progress.

 

T
HOUGH
H
UNTER HAD
listened to Dumont's statement this morning, he'd been more affected by Molly's blank expression than he was by the man's admissions. In Hunter's mind, Marc Dumont was already a part of his past. But Molly was his future, or so he hoped and despite her withdrawal, he didn't want her to find it easy to relegate him to
her
past.

He knew how badly Marc's description of his actions had hurt her. On the other hand, she'd been right about the man now. He hadn't been behind the attempts on Lilly's life. Her faith in him had been rewarded. Hunter hoped that counted for something in Molly's mind.

He needed to know how she was holding up. He had to know where they stood. And he wanted to see her…just because. He shoved his work aside, rose and grabbed his jacket.

Half an hour later, he pulled up to Molly's house. He wasn't surprised Anna Marie was nowhere to be seen. From what Ty had said, the older woman had a rough day and she was probably hiding inside.

As Hunter stepped onto the porch and rang Molly's doorbell, Hunter was grateful for the privacy. He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Molly opened the door.

She greeted him wearing gray sweats and a white T-shirt with smudges on the front. She looked as if she'd been cleaning.

“Hi,” he said, suddenly incapable of anything clever or smart to say. He was just glad to see her.

She inclined her head. “Hi.”

“Rough morning,” he said.

She shrugged. “Actually, it got even rougher. Listen, I'm kind of busy—”

“I'd still like to talk. I won't keep you long.”

She paused, then taking him by surprise, she pushed the door open wide. “Come on in.”

He'd expected more of an argument. He followed her up the flight of stairs, wondering if maybe he'd get through to her after all. Then he stepped into her den and saw the suitcases spread out all over the room, the sight hitting him like a kick in the stomach.

He glanced around. There weren't just clothes in the suitcases—her personal things were packed into boxes. “This looks like a lot more than packing for a vacation.”

She reluctantly met his gaze. “It is.”

Her words confirmed his greatest fear. “Then there are some things I want to say to you before you go.”

She nodded. “Go ahead,” she said softly.

“You were right about Dumont. I'm sorry I couldn't believe you.”

Molly looked into his handsome face and saw the truth in his eyes. Hunter's choice of words had been deliberate. It wasn't that he hadn't believed her, he couldn't. Because Marc had done too much damage. She'd heard it all firsthand today.

But Hunter had been there and supported
Molly
even if he couldn't agree with her belief in Marc. She appreciated his integrity more than he knew.

“Don't apologize. I understand.”

He walked around, stepping over the suitcases and boxes she'd managed to pack in a short amount of time.

Without warning, he turned. “Damnit, Molly, don't do this.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I have to.”

“You do know that you're leaving without giving us a chance?” he asked, his tone imploring.

Molly closed her eyes. She hadn't wanted to hurt Hunter. She'd avoided him for years to prevent doing just that, yet here they were anyway. “I need to find out who I am and what I want out of life. I can't do that here, in a place where all I see are my childhood wishes for the family I never had.”

“I never had family, either. I understand what you're going through. Why not work through it together? Unless of course, I'm mistaken in thinking you care about me, too.” A flush rose high on his cheekbones and he shoved his hands into his front pants pockets.

Molly knew how difficult it had been for Hunter to lay his heart on the line and it hurt her to have to reject him. But one day he'd thank her for doing it.

“It's because I care about you that I'm leaving.” She met his gaze, silently begging him to understand her reasons. “I need to grow up.” And to do so, she needed time alone.