Carly Phillips - Cross My Heart

“But I’m alive,” Lacey said.

“And Paul Dunne wanted to make sure you didn’t stay that way long enough to claim the money and find out he’d been stealing from it,” Ty said, his eyes blazing with certainty.

“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.

Marc 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.”