Worth Dying For (9 page)

Tessa held her breath, knowing what he was going to say next.

“Amy was wearing white tennis shoes when she disappeared,” Dante said. “And—” he took a deep breath “—and I’d given her a silver hair barrette with her initial on it for her seventeenth birthday.” He glared at Tessa, as if wondering why she’d been the one girl who had survived. Why her and not his Amy? “Who did G.W. know in Louisiana powerful enough to bury any records of your being one of Nealy’s victims?”

“Daddy and the then governor of the state were fraternity brothers.”

Dante chuckled humorlessly. “Figures.”

“What difference does it make to you that Daddy protected me by using his influence?” That wasn’t what was bothering Dante. It was something else. But what?

“You’re right. It doesn’t really matter to me.”

“Then what is it? Suspecting your Amy was one of that monster’s victims, just as I was, should make you the ideal candidate to investigate who sent Leslie Anne—” Oh, God, that was it. The truth hit her like a bolt from the blue.
Dante’s reluctance to be a part of the investigative team had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her daughter. “It’s Leslie Anne, isn’t it?”

Dante turned from her, that move and his silence speaking for him.

“Learning that
he
is Leslie Anne’s biological father changed the way you feel about her, didn’t it?”

Silence.

Tessa felt as if she’d been abandoned. Strange as it might seem, she had come to rely on Dante, as her daughter had. Men like Dante inspired confidence on short acquaintance.

What could she say to him now? What was there left to say? God only knew that if she could alter the circumstances of her little girl’s conception, she would. And not for Dante Moran’s sake!

“I’d like to hear the answer to that question,” a small, quivering voice said.

Crying out faintly when she recognized that sweet voice, Tessa looked toward the partially open pocket doors. Leslie Anne stood there, a stricken expression on her face.

“I was hoping you’d sleep late,” Tessa said, unable to think of something more profound to say. “I had planned to bring you breakfast in bed.”

Ignoring her mother entirely, Leslie Anne entered the room and walked directly to Dante, who had turned to face her. Heaven help him, he looked like a condemned man on the verge of being hanged.

“You hate me now, don’t you?” Leslie Anne looked Dante right in the eyes. “You can’t even stand to look at me because I’m that awful man’s child.”

“No, honey, no,” Tessa cried. “Mr. Moran doesn’t—”

“I’m talking to him, Mama, not you.”

Tessa said a silent prayer, pleading with God to bless Dante with wisdom and humanity so he could give Leslie Anne the answer she so desperately needed.

“I don’t hate you,” Dante said. “No one could hate such a sweet, lovely, young woman.”

“You’re lying. Someone hates me. Whoever sent me those newspaper clippings about my father—” She glared at Dante. “Eddie Jay Nealy was my biological father, wasn’t he?”

“No one should be judged by who their biological parents are,” Dante said. “My old man was no prize. He was a half-Italian, half-Irish hood from Chicago. He did a stint in the army, then came back home to a life of crime. He got shot in the back of the head when a drug deal went bad. But I had a great mom who took me home to Texas when I was twelve and surrounded me with her big, loving family. I’ve spent my entire adult life on the right side of the law. I’m not my father’s son. And you—” he grasped Leslie Anne’s shoulders “—are not your father’s daughter.”

Tears streamed down Leslie Anne’s cheeks. “Oh, God, it is true, isn’t it? He is my father!”

Tessa rushed to her daughter, but before she reached her, Dante opened his arms and pulled Leslie Anne into a comforting embrace. His big, dark hand stroked Leslie Anne’s back. The diamond centered in the onyx ring he wore caught the morning sunlight coming through the windows.

While Dante held Leslie Anne and allowed her to cry until she was spent, he glanced at Tessa and they exchanged a knowing look. Tessa understood that despite the fact Dante had concerns about her daughter having been fathered by the man who had probably murdered his fiancée, he was not the type of person who would blame the innocent for another’s crimes.

Dante was a good man. Of that, she had no doubts. He wouldn’t leave them, not now when they needed him. She knew she could count on him to help them find out who had sent those newspaper clippings. Whoever he or she was, they had wanted Leslie Anne to know the truth and they hadn’t cared how deeply they would hurt her. But what reason would anyone have to want to hurt Leslie Anne? What did anyone have to gain by exposing a long-buried secret?

“W
HAT DO YOU MEAN
you’ve asked Moran to stay on?” G.W. bristled. His cheeks reddened and his brow wrinkled as he frowned.

“Don’t get upset, Daddy. I thought you’d want him to stay on and help us find out who sent Leslie Anne those newspaper clippings about…” Pausing, she took a steadying breath. “Eddie Jay Nealy.” There, she’d said the man’s name. And it hadn’t been as difficult as she’d thought it would be. Not once in all these years had she said his name aloud, even though it had echoed inside her mind way too many times. And today she’d said it twice!

“What difference does it make who sent them? The damage has been done.” G.W. reached out and clasped Tessa’s hands. “We can still lie to her, somehow convince her that John Allen—”

“No!” Tessa jerked her hands from his grasp. “It’s too late for that. You’re right—the damage has been done and my daughter has been emotionally shattered. All we can do now is try to pick up the pieces and put her back together.”

“We don’t need Moran for that.”

“I think maybe we do. She’s formed an attachment to him. She trusts him.”

“And you? Have you formed an attachment to the man?” G.W. eyed her speculatively.

“Don’t be silly. I hardly know him.”

“Then send him on his way. We have Leslie Anne back safe and sound—”

“Safe, but hardly sound. She’s not going to stop asking questions. She wants answers, and I’m going to give them to her.” When her father didn’t reply, simply looked at her with great sorrow in his eyes, Tessa put her arms around his waist and hugged him. “I don’t want to argue with you about this. I want us to form a united front. For Leslie Anne’s sake. Agreed?”

Huffing loudly and blinking the tears from his eyes, G.W. nodded. “If we’re going to do it, then we should do it now. Get it over with and deal with the consequences.”

“I’ve already telephoned Dr. Barrett. He’ll be here at eleven.”

“You called Arthur?”

“Yes. I thought the therapist who helped me come to terms with what had happened to me was the ideal person to help Leslie Anne now. After all, Dr. Barrett already knows the whole story.”

“Yes, yes, he knows the whole story.”

Tessa picked up on something odd in her father’s voice.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“What is it? What’s wrong? What aren’t you saying?”

He patted her on the arm affectionately. “I hate to dredge up the past. It was such a painful time for all of us. You, me…and your mother.”

“I’d rather not dig up the past, either, but we must. For Leslie Anne’s sake. And we have to find a way to convince her that just because
he
was her biological father doesn’t mean she’s his daughter in any sense of the word.”

“If only you had married Charlie….”

“How could I have married Charlie? I didn’t even know him. I didn’t remember him at all. And I knew I was carrying another man’s child.”

“I wish we’d never told you the baby wasn’t his. If I’d been thinking straight, I’d have lied to you, just as I lied to your mother. Charlie would have married you. He loved you. And he would have backed us up in whatever story we chose to tell the world. No one would have ever known he wasn’t Leslie Anne’s father.”

“You would have known.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway, does it?” G.W. lifted his hand to Tessa’s face and caressed her cheek. “You gave Anne so much joy in those final years of her life. You and Leslie Anne. And no man could have asked for a better daughter. I’m so very lucky. I thank the good Lord every day for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, Daddy, you old softie, you. I’m the lucky one. What would I have done without you? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have given up after…after the rape. Without being able to draw on your strength, I wouldn’t have made it. You forced me to keep on living when I wanted to die.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, young lady. You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known. I’m proud to be your father.”

Tears clouded Tessa’s vision. “We’re both going to have to be strong and brave for Leslie Anne. She needs us now more than she ever has.”

“We’ll be there for her,” G.W. said. “All of us. Her family. Sharon’s on her way home, you know. Myrle says she should be here no later than this afternoon.”

“Good. I’ve missed her since she started spending so
much time in Key West. Aunt Sharon and Leslie Anne adore each other. I just know she’ll be able to help Leslie Anne get through this nightmare.”

G.W. put his arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “We don’t need outsiders involved in this, do we?”

Tessa stiffened. “Daddy, why are you so opposed to letting the Dundee agency find out who sent Leslie Anne those newspaper clippings?”

“That’s not it, not at all. I—I’m being foolish, aren’t I? Of course, we’ll want to find out who sent those clippings. But why don’t you let me handle it? You concentrate on Leslie Anne and I’ll deal with Mr. Moran and the Dundee Agency myself.”

“All right, if you’d prefer it that way.” Her gut instincts warned her that her father was keeping something from her. But what? She’d thought they didn’t keep secrets from each other.

G.W.
DECIDED TO MEET
with Dante Moran privately in the library. He’d made a couple of phone calls and had gotten the lowdown on this particular Dundee agent. Of course, the info he’d gotten just skimmed the surface, but it was enough for G.W. to form an opinion. Moran couldn’t be bought off or scared off. He liked that about the man, and under different circumstances, he might have tried to steal him away from the Dundee agency. Westbrook, Inc. could always use a talented go-getter like Moran. But in this particular situation, G.W. would have preferred an agent who could be bribed.

When Leslie Anne had run away, all he’d thought about was hiring the best agency to search for her. And Dundee was the best. The agents were the cream of the crop, highly
trained professionals. But the very thing that made them the best now proved a problem for G.W. If Moran—or any other Dundee agent—started digging around in the past and somehow dug a little too deep, G.W. wouldn’t be able to keep him quiet with a hefty payoff. What would he do if anyone found out the complete truth?

That can’t happen
, G.W. assured himself. Only three other people knew all the facts—the former Richland Parish sheriff, the coroner and one deputy. The coroner had died ten years ago at the age of seventy. Now suffering from Alzheimer’s, Sheriff Wadkins was in a nursing home, his care paid for by G.W. And Deputy Summers was now the sheriff, his income supplemented by a monthly check from G.W. Summers wasn’t about to open his mouth.

Let Moran dig as deep as he wants, G.W. thought. He won’t find out anything except the basic facts. My daughter was kidnapped, raped and left for dead seventeen years ago. She was one of two girls who survived Eddie Jay Nealy’s brutal attack. And my granddaughter is the result of that vicious rape.

G.W. shivered. He didn’t usually allow himself to think about those heartbreaking days, about that black, evil deed that had almost destroyed his life. Without Tessa, his beloved Anne wouldn’t have survived as long as she had. If they had lost their daughter…

As G.W. inspected his appearance in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors in his dressing room and made his way through the house and into the library, he dismissed his concerns about the secret buried deep in his heart. The present was what mattered—Leslie Anne—and finding out who had dared to send her those vile newspaper clippings about Eddie Jay Nealy.

Only he, Tessa and Sharon knew the truth about Leslie Anne’s paternity. Even the doctors and nurses at all of the hospitals where Tessa had been treated hadn’t known for sure. He had backed up one lie with another, and then another, until the day came when he halfway believed all the lies himself.

A knock sounded on the library door.

“Yes?”

“You asked to speak to me alone,” Dante Moran said through the closed doors.

“Come in, please.”

The pocket doors opened and Moran entered the library.

“Close the doors,” G.W. said. “I don’t want anyone overhearing our conversation.”

After Dante did as G.W. had requested, he turned and faced his client.

“My daughter tells me that she wants to retain your agency to search for the person who sent Leslie Anne those newspaper clippings.”

Moran nodded. “Yes, sir, she did mention it.”

“If that’s what Tessa wants, then it’s what I want.” G.W. understood that the best way to deal with Moran was to be straightforward. “It doesn’t matter to me what agent handles the case, but Tessa seems to trust you and she expects you to head up the investigation. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir.”

“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?”

Narrowing his gaze, Moran focused directly on G.W. “If you’d prefer another agent—”

“No, no.” G.W. waved his hand. “It’s just that I’d rather not dredge up the past. During your investigation, I’d appreciate it if you’d run everything you find out by me first.
That way I can protect my daughter and granddaughter as much as possible. Do you have any objections to that?”

“No, sir. You hired the Dundee agency, so for all intents and purposes, you and you alone are our client.”

“Good. Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

“Then I take it that we’re officially hired for the investigation.”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll contact my superior, Sawyer McNamara, and make arrangements. In order to expedite the investigation, I plan to ask for Lucie Evans and Dom Shea to remain as part of the investigative team. You’ll be paying for three agents instead of one.”

“Money is no object. You should know that.”

“Yes, sir, but I had to get your okay.”

“You’ve got it. Use all the agents you need. Three or ten. Just do the job right.”

“We always do.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do.”

“I need some information and I believe you’d rather I get it from you than from your daughter.”

“Absolutely.”

“All right then.” Moran concentrated his gaze on G.W., a man-to-man exchange. “Tessa—Ms. Westbrook told me that only you, your sister and she knew that Eddie Jay Nealy was Leslie Anne’s biological father. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your wife didn’t know?”

“My wife had terminal cancer when our daughter was kidnapped,” G.W. said. “I thought it best for her to never know the truth about what happened to Tessa. Until the day Anne died, she believed Tessa had been in a terrible car
wreck and that the child she gave birth to was Charlie Sentell’s daughter.”

“Have you ever told anyone about—”

“No! Never.”

“What about your sister? Do you think she would have—”

“Absolutely not. She would never do anything to harm Tessa or Leslie Anne.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that your sister might have sent those clippings. I only meant do you think it’s possible she shared this secret with anyone? A close friend? A lover?”

“No.” Could he be certain Sharon didn’t tell someone? Yes, of course he could. His sister would never betray such an important confidence.

“Other people must have known at the time,” Moran said. “The lawmen—police or sheriff’s department—where Tessa was found. The doctors and nurses at the hospital—”

“They might have suspected, but they didn’t know for sure. After all, Tessa was eighteen and as far as they knew she’d been sexually active before—” G.W. gulped. “The child could have been her boyfriend’s.”

“And that’s what you chose to tell everyone?”

“She hadn’t been dating anyone except Charlie, of course, for over six months. The baby could have been his.” G.W. closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts and fortifying his courage. He’d told so many lies that sometimes it was difficult to keep them all straight.

“Could have been Charlie’s, but wasn’t? How could you be sure?”

G.W. took a deep breath. “When Charlie came to the hospital to see Tessa, I fed him the same story I’d told everyone else about Tessa being in a car wreck. I told him
she was pregnant—only a few weeks along. Charlie had been away at college for over six weeks before…. He told me himself that he and Tessa hadn’t…not in a couple of months. When I told him I had no idea who had fathered Tessa’s baby, he offered to accept responsibility, to marry her and claim her child as his.”

“If that’s the case then why—”

“Tessa refused to marry him and wouldn’t allow him to claim her baby, but she did agree that we’d tell her mother the child was Charlie’s.” To this day, G.W. couldn’t think about Anne without hurting deep inside. She’d been the love of his life. He would have done anything—absolutely anything—for her. And that included protecting her from the truth.

“You and Tessa have told a great many lies over the years,” Moran said. “It’s possible that somewhere along the way, somebody put two and two together and came up with four. If we’re going to unearth this person who sent Leslie Anne those newspaper clippings, I need for you to be honest with me. I need to know all the lies you’ve told and I need to know the truth. Start with Tessa being kidnapped.”

You can do this, G.W. told himself. Tell him everything, except…“When Tessa first disappeared, we assumed she’d been kidnapped for ransom, considering our vast wealth. I made up a lie to protect my wife. I told her Tessa was off on a trip with Sharon. My sister was always jaunting all over the place.”

“And that was the first lie?”

“Yes.” The first of many. So many, G.W. wasn’t sure if he could actually remember them all. Odd how, after all these years, the lies seemed more like the truth than the actual truth.

“How long was Tessa missing?” Moran asked.

“How long?”

“Yes, how long?”

“Uh, nearly two weeks.”

“Tessa told me that she was found off Interstate 20 in Louisiana. Is that right?”

G.W. nodded.

“Who notified you?”

“The Richland Parish sheriff,” G.W. said. No need to lie to Moran. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to find out that bit of information since G.W. hadn’t been able to arrange for all of the evidence to be destroyed. The hospital records, though confidential, still existed. “A motorist who’d stopped to take a leak just off the highway had found her body and thought she was dead. When the sheriff arrived, he discovered she was still alive. Just barely. They rushed her to the hospital. She’d been raped and brutally beaten, then left for dead.”