Jana DeLeon - The Betrayed

When she met Alaina early one morning at the café, Danae wanted to tell her that they were sisters, but years of living on the street had taught her to always stand back and assess the situation. To always limit exposure of herself unless absolutely necessary. That level of caution had saved her life more than once, and just because she experienced a familial pull, she had no reason to sacrifice something that had always worked for her.

But now, she wondered if she should reveal herself. From the local talk, she had a good idea about the terms of the will and knew that if she wanted to take part, she’d have to come forward. The distant cousin who had taken her in when her mother died had passed away long ago, a liquor bottle clenched in her leathered hand, and Danae had never gotten close enough to anyone to make lasting friendships. If anyone tried to find her, the trail stopped cold in California.

After Danae met Alaina and got a good feeling about her as a person, she’d been tempted to talk to the estate attorney, but she’d still held back. What if their middle sister couldn’t be located, either? Her understanding was that all three sisters had to meet the requirements of the will in order for any of them to inherit. If the last sister couldn’t be located or didn’t agree to the terms, then Danae would have exposed herself for no viable reason, and at a time when she didn’t feel comfortable doing so.

But the attack on Alaina had her rethinking everything. What if her sister had died and she’d never gotten the chance to tell her who she was? She could have missed one of her only opportunities to have a real family.

As she grabbed her car keys, she glanced at her watch and cursed. She even had the advantage of working second shift that morning, but she wasn’t going to make the later work time, either. Johnny, the café owner, was going to kill her for being so late. Likely, everyone in Calais would wander through the café this morning to gossip about the news report. Nothing this big had ever happened in the sleepy bayou town. It was going to be the talk for quite a while.

She flung open the front door of her rented cabin, ready to break some major speeding laws on the winding country roads, but stopped short at the sight of the plain white envelope that lay on the welcome mat.

Such a common, nonthreatening item shouldn’t have set off the wave of anxiety that flooded through her, but she immediately knew something was off. She hadn’t let her guard down long enough to make close friends, and even if she had, they would hardly drive ten miles into the swamp to leave an envelope at her doorstep.

Her hands shook as she reached for the envelope, and as soon as her fingers closed around it, she set off at a run for her car. Whoever had left the envelope might be watching, lurking somewhere in the swamp that enclosed the tiny cabin and blocked it off from the rest of the world.

She jumped into her ancient sedan, started it and threw it into Drive, tearing out of the dirt driveway before she’d even managed to close the car door. She pressed the accelerator just beyond the limits of safety, and her fingers ached from clenching the steering wheel as the old car skidded in the gravel. The narrow road seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, she reached the intersection for the paved road that led into Calais.

She pulled to a stop and looked over at the envelope that she’d tossed onto the passenger’s seat. Habit had her checking her rearview mirror, but no one was visible behind her. She glanced back at the passenger’s seat where the envelope lay, seemingly taunting her to open it. Lifting one hand, she bit her lower lip, then hesitated.

What are you—a coward?

Unable to stand it any longer, she grabbed the envelope and tore it open. A single scrap of paper containing only one sentence fell out into her hand.

I know who you are.

She sucked in a breath so hard her chest ached. All her careful planning and secrecy had been for naught. Someone had figured out her secret. But why did they leave this message? What were they hoping to accomplish by doing so? Being Ophelia LeBeau’s daughter wasn’t a crime, and Danae had no reason other than an overzealous sense of self-protection for hiding her true identity.

Someone must be trying to scare her. But to what end?

She shoved the paper into her purse and continued her drive to town. She’d stop at the café first and let Johnny know she had to take a bit more time that morning. He wouldn’t be happy and may even fire her, but that couldn’t be helped. Danae had the sudden overwhelming feeling that she had to find William Duhon, the estate attorney, and reveal her true identity.

Whatever someone hoped to accomplish with the note, she was going to cut them off at the pass.

DANAE SPOTTED ALAINA’S SUV in front of the attorney’s office and felt another bout of panic. Then logic took over and she decided it was a good thing. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. She hurried into the office and told a rather grim-looking woman at the front desk that she wished to speak to Mr. Duhon.

The grim woman frowned, which surprised Danae a bit, as she’d thought the woman was already frowning before.

“Do you have an appointment?” Grim asked.

“You know that I don’t,” Danae replied, trying to keep her voice level. After all, this woman and everyone else knew her as Connie from the café, and probably couldn’t imagine why she’d need to speak to William.

“I can make you an appointment for later this week.”

“Is he talking to Alaina?”

“Mr. Duhon’s clients are all afforded the privacy they deserve—”

Danae waved a hand at the woman to cut her off.

“Never mind,” she said as she walked past the desk and pushed open the door to the attorney’s office.

Alaina jumped around in her seat when Danae flung open the door, and the attorney jumped up from his chair, uncertain and clearly uncomfortable with the interruption.

“You can’t go in there,” Grim admonished behind her.

“I’m Danae LeBeau,” she said before she could change her mind.

Chapter Two

Alaina and William stared at her, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and surprise. She’d expected as much. Connie Smith, café waitress, had served them both breakfast on many occasions. She’d never provided her real name to anyone in Calais before now. And as her looks were a perfect blend of both parents, she didn’t favor either enough to draw suspicion.

“I have documentation,” she said and pulled some faded, worn papers from her purse. “A birth certificate and a driver’s license with my real name—I’d appreciate it if you don’t ask where I got the one I’ve been using.”

She stood there, holding the documents, with both William and Alaina staring at her in shock. Finally, Alaina rose from her chair and walked the couple of steps to stand in front of her.

“Danae?” Alaina said, her voice wavering. “You were just a toddler... You had on a new dress that day—”

“Yellow with white roses,” Danae interrupted.

Alaina’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She threw her arms around Danae and squeezed her tightly. “I never thought... When I came here, I didn’t know what would happen.”

Danae struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t know, either.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived?”

“We’re fine, Ms. Morgan,” William’s voice sounded behind them.

Danae released Alaina and glanced back in time to see Secretary Grim pull the door closed, her frown still fixed in place. Alaina smiled at her and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I...uh...” Danae struggled to find a way to explain. “I don’t really know why I came to Calais, or even to Louisiana. I mean, I guess I thought I could talk to our stepfather and maybe find out something—anything—about my past, maybe find you and Joelle. But I never got the chance and then he died.”