Cassie Miles - The Secret She Keeps

“How could I forget?” Angela had been the coolest teenager in the neighborhood. A cheerleader. The star of the high school play. “I idolized you, Angela. I wanted to be you when I grew up.”

“Things change.” An edge of bitterness marred her precise beauty. Eden remembered that Angela’s husband had spent six years in prison after the shoot-out when she thought Peter, now Payne, had died.

“Where have you been?” Angela asked.

“Out west.” Eden didn’t want to give particulars that made her easier to find. “I work for a caterer.”

“You always loved cooking,” Angela said. “Is there a husband?”

“Not yet,” Eden said. “Tell me about your kids.”

“My boys are nearly grown. Both in college.” She linked arms with Eden, sweeping her away from Robert Ciari. “Come with me to the ladies’ room. We need some girl talk.”

There was nothing girlish about this strong, well-dressed, attractive woman. Power radiated from Angela Benedict. If she’d been born male, Angela would certainly have been ruling the family roost.

The plain, three-stall bathroom was empty, and Angela wasted no words. “Peter Maggio has come back from the dead. He was your lover, wasn’t he?”

“Angela, that’s ancient history.”

“He gave you a child.” Her dark eyes bored hard into Eden’s face. “A son.”

“I have a son,” Eden said, careful not to acknowledge that Payne was the father.

“An heir to the Verone family name. Your grandfather wants the boy here.”

“I don’t understand why,” Eden said. “It’s not like we’re royalty or anything. If my grandfather wants to groom an heir, why not look to Robert Ciari. He has—”

“Female children,” Angela said harshly. “We call Robert the girl-maker. He’s not a leader.”

She turned away and studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She placed her black leather purse on the counter beside the sink and removed a tube of lipstick. As she prepared to reapply her makeup, she avoided Eden’s gaze. Cousin Angela was hiding something. A clenching in her jaw betrayed her tension. What did she want? Power and wealth, Eden deduced, because Angela was not the sort of woman who cared much about loving or being loved. She wanted her boys to rise to power in the family.

The thought disgusted Eden. She couldn’t imagine thrusting Josh into this arena. Any woman who would sacrifice her children was a frightening creature.

Quietly, Eden asked, “What about you? You could run the family.”

“I didn’t marry the right man,” Angela said. “Gus doesn’t like Nicky. No one can doubt his loyalty, but my husband is difficult. Angry. Brooding. After prison, he was never quite the same.”

As Angela applied blood-red lipstick with an unshaking hand, Eden had the impression that this woman was strong enough for both herself and her husband—ferocious enough to lead an army into battle, taking no prisoners.

The question was: Why had Angela made a point of seeking her out? Her intention in bringing Eden into the bathroom was certainly not for girl talk. “Was there something you wanted to say to me?”

“I want to stay in touch.” She removed a small gold case from her purse and took out a business card. “This is my personal cell phone. Call me any time.”

Though Eden slipped the card inside her skirt pocket, she couldn’t imagine they’d ever be friends. “I appreciate the gesture, Angela.”

“But you really don’t plan to stick around, do you? You don’t care for the family business. Twelve years ago, when it came time for us to stand together, you ran.” Her alto voice resonated with disdain. “I suspect you don’t want your son to be involved with the Verones.”

“Very perceptive,” Eden said coolly.

“I suspect,” Angela said, “that you would run away again if given a chance.”

As she replaced her lipstick in her purse, she removed a set of keys which she left on the countertop. “It’s the black Corvette in the first row of the church parking lot.”

Turning on her heel, she left the ladies’ room.

Eden snatched the keys. She turned toward the garden level casement window. It’d be easy to climb out and escape. Almost too easy.

No doubt, Angela was setting her up. If Eden ran, she’d be out of favor with her grandfather. She would also be beyond his protection. Whoever had killed Eddy might come after her.

But if she stayed, Eden was trapped. Josh would be brought here. He’d be indoctrinated into the family business.

She had to take this chance.

INSIDE THE MOTEL ROOM, Payne stood at the edge of the window, peering through the slit between the nubby brown curtain and the stucco wall. The Riverside Inn was a two-story structure with rooms on both sides. He’d chosen a spot on the first floor near the end of the building. From this vantage point, he could see the motel office and the asphalt parking lot. His own rental car was parked on the opposite side of the building, ready for a quick escape if Candace, who now called herself Eden, chose to reveal his location to her family.

Arranging a meeting with her had violated every principle of undercover work. Payne had allowed his emotions to overwhelm common sense. He’d revealed too much. Like a rookie, he’d risked his entire operation for a few moments of gratification. For one kiss.

But what a kiss! He didn’t honestly regret one second of the time he’d spent with her in St. Catherine’s basement. She was everything he remembered and more. Strong, principled and vivacious, she was even more lovely than when she was a nineteen-year-old virgin who gave her love so sweetly to him. He treasured that indelible memory. Their first night together had become a fantasy. If he closed his eyes, Payne could remember the feel of her satin skin. He could see her surprised look of arousal. Her hazel eyes widened. She gasped. And then came her soft cries of delight.

His dream woman. She stirred his blood. The mere thought of her excited him.

He stared at the motel parking lot. Once again, he was violating the dictates of undercover work. He had trusted a potential enemy and left himself vulnerable, but he didn’t care. Candace Verone was worth the risk.

Not Candace, he reminded himself. She was Eden. A strange name. Did she identify with Eve who was too smart to stay in a supposed Paradise? Maybe she’d picked Eden because the name reminded her of Eddy. Poor guy! In that Brooklyn restaurant, he never stood a chance. Danny-O had been lying in wait. But why?

That discovery was Payne’s mission—a job not sanctioned by the FBI or anybody else. Other law enforcement people were involved. Other agents. And members of the Verone family. Who were they? And why, damn it, why had the Verones arranged a hit on Eddy?

He checked his wristwatch. Two forty-five. He’d promised to stay here until four. In the next hour and fifteen minutes, the course of his future might be determined. Either she would come to him or not. He hardly dared to hope. If she came to him…

A black Corvette with temporary tags roared into the parking lot and squealed to a stop outside his window. Eden bolted from the car. Her confused gaze darted. She didn’t know which room was his.

A well-trained undercover agent would’ve stayed inside, not revealing himself with anything more than a subtle gesture. He would’ve exerted caution and patience. But Payne wasn’t thinking like a federal agent. He was only a man.

He flung open the door to his room and strode toward her. His arms enveloped her. He inhaled the clean fragrance of her hair. My God, she was everything he’d ever wanted.

“Back off!” she ordered.

“You came to me.” Ignoring her protest, he embraced her more tightly, hanging onto a dream that just might come true. “You’re here.”