BEVERLY BARTON - Dangerous Deception

“I’m sorry. I swear I’ve never had any trouble with this guy before. He’s good at what he does and—”

“Not good enough to get rid of one small redhead.”

“Look, I have contacts all over. Just say the word and I’ll put somebody in your area on the job in less than twelve hours.”

“No, not yet. Let me see how this is going to play out before I decide on another course of action. Mr. Shea is bringing her home this morning. They should arrive at any moment.”

“Just let me know what you want and when you want it. No more slip ups, I promise.”

JEREMY LOMAN OPENED the door for Dom and Audrey. “Mr. Bedell and the others are waiting in the study.”

Dom noticed that Loman didn’t speak to Audrey, didn’t even glance at her. And she paid little attention to her father’s all-around assistant, which made him wonder if there was bad blood between the two of them.

“The others?” Dom asked, then slipped his arm through Audrey’s as they followed Loman down the hall.

“Yes, sir. Mrs. Bedell, Miss Cara and Mr. Grayson. They’re all very concerned about Miss Audrey.”

Dom felt Audrey tense immediately and his gut instincts warned him that something definitely wasn’t right.

Within minutes, they entered the study. Wall-to-wall bookshelves, carved marble fireplace, massive wooden desk, and four somber people stood before them. One by one, the family turned to stare at Dom and then at Audrey. Not one smile. Not one welcome home or thank God you’re all right.

“Please come on in,” Edward Bedell said. “Would you—” he glanced at Audrey “—either of you care for coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Dom said.

Audrey didn’t reply.

“When you telephoned, you said you were bringing Audrey home,” Edward said. “Where is she? Did she change her mind about coming back to Chattanooga with you?”

A mental red flag popped up inside Dom’s mind the second Edward Bedell’s question registered. “What do you mean, where is she? She’s right here.” Dom turned and looked at Audrey.

“Please, Mr. Bedell, I can explain everything,” Audrey said. “I know this looks bad, but remember that I came here with Mr. Shea of my own free will and I did it because I think your daughter is in some kind of horrible trouble. Someone tried to kill me early this morning, someone who thought I was Audrey.”

Dom heard several voices questioning, complaining, accusing, but all he could think about was that this woman, a woman he had thought was Audrey Bedell, had just confessed that she wasn’t the woman he’d been hired to find.

“I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Bedell glowered at Dom. “What on earth made you think this young woman was my daughter?”

Dom looked right at Bedell. “Maybe because she told me she was Audrey Bedell Perkins and because she was using your daughter’s credit cards and had registered at the hotel under that name. And the general description I was given of Audrey fits this woman’s general description.” Dom snapped his head around and glared at the woman who’d had his insides tied in knots since the moment they met. “Who the hell are you if you’re not Audrey?”

“Dom, please understand that I—”

“What have you done to my sister?” Cara demanded as she stormed across the room toward the stranger in their midst. “Did you kill her and steal her credit cards?”

Whoever the woman was, she stood her ground. She squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up and balled her hands into tight fists. “My name is Lausanne Raney. I’ve worked as a receptionist at Bedell, Inc. for the past six months and I haven’t killed anyone. Audrey Perkins hired me to impersonate her so that she and her boyfriend could run away together without being followed.”

THE TRUTH HAD HIT DOM like a sledgehammer, right between the eyes. Why hadn’t he seen what was right before him? Why hadn’t he realized that this woman wasn’t Audrey Bedell Perkins? He had compared her to the photograph he’d been given and had seen only a superficial similarity. Great investigative work, Shea, he told himself. You were so busy thinking with your dick instead of your brain that you screwed up big time.

“Why would Audrey do such a thing?” Grayson Perkins asked, genuine puzzlement in his expression.

“Get real,” Patrice said. “She figured that if she was gone long enough, either you or Edward would sick the bloodhounds on her. I think it was damn smart of her to hire an impersonator to lead y’all off on a wild goose chase.”

“I think we should call the police right now,” Cara said. “How do we know this woman is telling us the truth?”

“I swear that I’m not lying,” Lausanne told them, her pleading gaze moving around the room, pausing for a split second on each person present.

“What you’re saying may be true, but I agree with Cara—we should call the police.” Grayson looked directly at Edward. “We don’t know where Audrey is or what may or may not have happened to her. If this girl is lying—”

“I’m not lying!” There was a hint of panic in Lausanne’s voice.

“Shut up! Everyone, stop talking!” Edward’s face reddened, his nostrils flared. “All this quibbling isn’t getting us anywhere.” He turned to Dom. “You’re the professional, Mr. Shea. What do you recommend?”

Torn between being angry at Lausanne Raney for making him look like a fool and wanting to believe that she hadn’t committed a crime, Dom hesitated briefly before answering. “Call the police. As a matter of fact, I’ll do that for you. I can update them on all the pertinent information.” He glanced at Lausanne. “As for you, keep quiet until the police arrive. You can tell your story to them and to us at the same time.” He wanted to add, Do you understand? I’m trying to help you without betraying my client.

Why the hell did he want to help her? What if she was lying? What if she was somehow involved in Audrey Perkins’s disappearance? For all he knew, this woman could be a cold-blooded killer. But if she was a criminal, she wasn’t a very smart one; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been traveling around the southeast passing herself off as Audrey Perkins while she added up huge bills on the woman’s credit cards.

“Very well,” Edward said. “I think we should all adjourn to the living room and allow you some privacy to telephone the police.” He glanced at Lausanne. “We’ll leave Ms. Raney—if that’s her real name—in your custody.”

Loman followed the others out of the room, closing the study door behind him. Once they were alone, Lausanne rushed over to Dom, who held up a restraining hand. She stopped immediately and stared at him, her eyes dry, her expression stern.

“They don’t believe me, do they?” She searched Dom’s face, then said, “And you don’t, either. You actually think I might have done something to Audrey Perkins and stolen her credit cards.”

“Did you?”

“No, I did not.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Oh, I don’t know—maybe because I’m telling the truth.”

“The way you were telling me the truth when you told me that you were Audrey Bedell Perkins?”

“I was playacting. She hired me to impersonate her. I swear—”

“Save it for the police, honey.”

She grabbed Dom’s arm and gazed into his eyes. “I’m going to get railroaded on this and we both know it. It’s happened to me before. I’m just lucky that way. I should have known the deal I made with Ms. Perkins was too good to be true, that somehow, someway, it would come back and bite me in the butt.”

“Are you saying you’ve been arrested before, that you have a criminal record?”