Betrayal of Trust (3 page)

R
aven mulled over her strange telephone conversation as she wove in and out of five lanes of traffic. She was already twenty minutes late to meet Ken. And Ken didn’t like being kept waiting.

Well, he’d just have to get over it. She wasn’t going to tell him the caller had been her long-lost half brother. A fresh jolt knocked into her gut at the thought. She actually had a brother?

Sonny Thatcher. Son of Josiah Thatcher…her father. A twinge of guilt pinched at her as immediately her mind conjured the image of Mac. She didn’t want to hurt the man who had loved her as his own and raised her with the same loving care as he had her two younger sisters. But how odd to discover her biological father had lived in Kansas City. All these years, they’d shared the same city of residence.

Her conversation with Sonny had been brief. She’d listened to just enough to convince her he might be telling the truth about their familial connection, set up a meeting time and place, then sat on her overstuffed couch and allowed her heartbeat to slow to a steady
rhythm for the next ten minutes. She wasn’t positive that she even wanted to know these men. But she couldn’t shake off her curiosity and had set up the meeting despite her conflicting emotions.

A horn blared behind her as she whipped her SUV into the last lane of traffic just in time to avoid missing her exit. That’s all she needed, further delays.

And why wasn’t Ken answering his cell phone anyway? Essentially, it was his own fault he didn’t know she’d be late. She’d tried to call him four times.

She pulled into the parking lot ten minutes later and breezed into the coffee shop. Ken sat at their table.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said putting up her palm. “I have a good reason for being late.”

He shrugged. “I just got here, myself.”

“Ken! What if I’d been here waiting for thirty minutes?”

He shrugged again. “So, what’s your good reason for being late?”

“Forget it. Let’s just order coffee and get started.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” He drew on his cigarette, then released the smoke into the aisle where a leggy blonde in a red business suit walked by and glared. Ken gave her a once-over and pointed to the Smoking Section sign.

“I wish you’d stop offending people with those things. Especially when I’m with you. What if they recognize me?”

“You’re flattering yourself again.”

Raven’s cheeks warmed. “What have you been thinking we can do?”

“Most logical? Call him up and remind him why he ever had a ‘thing’ with you in the first place.”

“Hey, don’t imply it was less than it was. We had a real relationship. No kissing on the first date, down on
one knee, heirloom engagement ring, the whole works. And yes, waiting until marriage for anything more than kissing.”

Surprise registered on his face. “So he’s the honorable type. That’ll help.”

Raven scowled. “I don’t know if I want to use my past relationship with Matt just to get a story. It cheapens it in a way.” The only real relationship she’d ever had. It was a bittersweet memory, but one she cherished all the same.

“If you don’t get the story someone else will. Are you willing to let it be Kellie?” He leaned forward. “I’ll let you in on a secret a little birdie told me.”

“What?”

“Kellie’s mother is a club friend of Matthew Strong’s mother. Seems they meet once a week for lunch. So you see, Kellie has an inside track to this guy too.”

Raven’s competitive nature took charge. Ken was right. Matthew couldn’t hide forever. Eventually someone was going to track him down and get a story out of him. No way was she going to let that person be Kellie. She stifled a growl. Why did everything have to come to that girl handed on a silver platter? Well, she couldn’t have Matthew!

She snatched up her cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Matt, what do you think?”

Triumph shone in his green eyes. “You know the number by heart?”

“If it hasn’t changed since we were dating. You know I never forget anything. As far as I know he’s still living in a wing at his parents’ mansion. Since his dad died, he’s sort of the man of the family.”

Ken rolled his eyes. “Families are a chain around
your neck. You have to cut them loose or you’ll never have any peace.”

Raven hated when he talked like that. Her head and her heart were constantly in a struggle about family and she didn’t like hearing it so blatantly from a bohemian with no morals and no ethics. If Ken weren’t such a great cameraman…

She dialed Matt’s number while Ken looked on. It rang four times then a child answered. “Hello? Who is this?”

“I’m not allowed to say,” the child replied. “Who’s this?”

“Is—is this the Strong residence?”

A long pause on the other end.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” came the whispered reply.

“Is this the home of Matthew Strong?”

“I’m not allowed to say.”

“Who are you talking to, Jamie?”

As if caught playing phone pranks, Raven quickly disconnected.

“What?” Ken stared at her, his eyes asking the obvious question.

“A kid answered. I think I must have gotten the wrong number.”

“Maybe it was Matthew’s kid.”

Raven scowled. “And no one knew about a wife and child? Come on.”

“Yeah, that’s true. So what now?”

Raven took a sip of the too-sweet, chocolate-flavored coffee and pinched a bite from her muffin.

“Matthew was always a creature of habit. He probably still works out at Randy’s Gym on Harrison.”

“Mr. Senator at that dive? I don’t see it.”

“Trust me.” Digging into her purse, she tossed some bills on the table, then stood.

“Where are you going?”

“I think it’s time to get back into shape. See you later.”

With a grin, she exited Corner Coffee and headed to her car. First stop—the sports shop two blocks away. She’d need exercise clothes and gym shoes if she were going to pull this one off.

Now, please God, let Matthew still work out at the gym.

The memory of that phone call this morning irked Matthew. Jamie knew better than to answer the phone. Only the girl’s insistence that the caller had been a woman stopped Matthew from calling the phone company and changing their number.

He couldn’t explain to Jamie. And that made things hard. The kid was growing more independent by the day. Answering the phone was taboo. She knew that. If one of her friends called, she could talk. But she could not answer on her own. Why had the little girl picked now to start testing the limits?

Dusk was settling as he pulled into the parking lot. His muscles twitched, anticipating the welcome punishment. He knew he could trust Randy not to let anyone know he was coming in to work out. The salty characters at his gym were serious body builders who didn’t care if he was a senatorial candidate or a factory worker named Ed. As long as he didn’t hog the free weights, they were cool. Never once had he had to deal with the press before, during or after a workout. And right now he needed to sweat. To push his body to its limits and clear his head.

He kicked the treadmill up a couple of more notches
and increased his running speed. His heart responded with the appropriate rise in beats per minute.

The newest CD from his favorite worship band blasted in his ears through headphones, upbeat music lifting his spirits and setting his mind on things above. Soon he became lost in the rhythm of the music and his own body’s rhythm as he pounded out mile after mile on the soft surface.

Matthew swallowed down the lump in his throat. Trust had been difficult. He couldn’t see where the rest of his life could possibly go. It would be nearly impossible to practice law again any time soon. Too many people knew him. Politics were out of the question—at least until Jamie was grown, and by then, it would most likely be too late.

He supposed he could move to a quiet little town in a different state and start a bookstore or a café or something.

I want to trust You, Lord. But I can’t see what You possibly have planned for me.

He might have continued the prayer, but movement caught his attention through the mirror in front of the treadmill. A woman entered the workout room. Every
eye in the place followed her as she glided to a cross-training machine. Matthew’s throat went dry. She looked so much like…

Just then she looked around and spotted him. Her eyes went wide with surprise. Matthew nearly stumbled. To avoid falling flat on his face, he peeled his eyes away from Raven and turned his attention back to the treadmill for just a second to slow to a walk and then a stop. He grabbed a towel and swiped at the sweat streaming from his face, neck and arms as he walked toward her. Not exactly the impression he wanted to make on Raven Mahoney after fifteen years.

Her lips curved into a gorgeous smile that did more aerobically for his heart than the last four miles on the treadmill.

“Matthew,” she said breathlessly. “You still work out here?”

Ignoring the twinge of suspicion niggling through his mind, Matthew took her proffered hand, wishing he didn’t reek of sweat so that he could pull her to him and bury his face in the silky strands of her hair.

“You know me. This is the only place I can get a decent workout. Luckily the press hasn’t gotten wind of it yet.”

Her expression clouded.

“I didn’t mean you.” He smiled.

Relief crossed her features and she smiled back, flashing teeth that were just a little more perfect than he remembered.

“So what have you been up to?” he asked.

“Oh, I just got back from my sister’s wedding in Rolla.”

“Which one?”

Raven smiled. “Denni. Keri married her childhood sweetheart a year ago.”

“So you’re the only unmarried Mahoney girl left?”

She shrugged and her nostrils flared a little the way they did when she was trying to pretend she wasn’t irritated. “I guess so.”

“You didn’t have to be.” Matthew could have kicked himself. Now why had he gone there? Her expression hardened.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Don’t worry about it, Matt. You want to show me how this thing works?” She indicated the cross trainer machine. Clearly the subject was closed.

“How about if I take you to dinner instead?”

“What about my workout?”

He leaned in. “Between you and me, I think you can afford to skip it.”

Pink crawled to her cheeks, charming Matt. So the self-assured reporter still had trouble taking compliments.

“What do you say?” he pressed.

She narrowed her gaze and studied him as if trying to gauge his motives. “You know I’m a reporter. What if all this was a ruse just to get a story from you? Maybe I
want
you to ask me to dinner?”

The challenge was more than Matt could resist. He winked. “Then let’s just say I played right into your hands.” He knew he’d have to be on guard. Still, after all they’d shared he couldn’t believe she’d callously milk a story from him with no thought to his privacy.

Still, she hedged. “It’s just dinner, Raven. No strings attached.”
Unless you want them to be
.

Her expression softened and she nodded. “All right. I’ve heard these machines are real torture anyway. Dinner with you has got to be preferable.”

The teasing glint in her eyes shot through his heart, igniting feelings that had eluded him since he’d watched
her walk away. She still had him. Hook, line and sinker, his heart belonged to this woman. All she had to do was say the word and he’d bring out that velvet box containing her engagement ring and pick up right where they’d left off.

Maybe he had a future after all. And maybe that future was wrapped up in Raven Mahoney.

R
aven couldn’t believe her luck. She stared across the table as Matt gave the waiter his order and handed back the menu. How was it possible that he’d grown even more handsome during the past fifteen years? A few lines etched the skin next to his eyes and around his mouth, but these served only to give him a mature, distinguished appearance. A few silver strands of hair near his temple added to the effect and Raven found herself wanting to giggle like a nerdy high school girl who had landed a date with the captain of the football team.

One disturbing question probed her mind. How could she have ever led herself to believe she was over Matthew Strong?

He glanced up. A slow grin spread across his face. “I caught you.”

Raven quickly averted her gaze to her own menu, feigning nonchalance. “Caught me what?”

“Staring.”

“Oh, please.” Raven smiled despite her embarrassment. “Still full of yourself, I see.”

“What some people see as egotism, others—Mom, for instance—consider confidence.”

“Confidence, huh?” Raven tried to control her breathing. Keep it even and light. Not give away her out-of-control feelings. But one look into Matt’s eyes and she knew she was fooling no one. Least of all, Matt. The one person who could read her like a copy of the
Washington Post.

She didn’t resist when he reached across the table and took her hand, lacing her fingers with his, forming a steeple. “Why, Rave?”

“W-why what?” She swallowed hard, kicking herself for not preparing for this inevitability. Of course Matthew would grab her heart again. She just hadn’t realized he would do it in five seconds flat. That had to be a world record.

“Why did you walk away?”

“I just—had to, Matthew. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, really. I just knew it wasn’t right between you and me.”

“It was right.” His thumb traced the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger, making it hard for Raven to concentrate. “We were right together.”

“I—I don’t think so. Life was too complicated. I wasn’t ready to commit.”

“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that we’re both still single? Neither of us moved on.”

Raven snatched her fingers away and hid her hands in her lap. “What makes you think I haven’t moved on?”

Disappointment washed Matthew’s features as the intimate moment between them passed. “No ring.”

“Maybe I don’t believe in conventional tokens of commitment.”

He gave a short laugh. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Even unconventional girls.”

Raven had to smile. Then she grew serious once more. “Just because I haven’t tied myself down to a man doesn’t mean I haven’t moved on, Matt. It just means I’m not interested in a relationship. What I have moved on with is furthering my career.”

“I see.”

And Raven could tell by the smug relief on his face that he did indeed see. And not what she was claiming, either. He saw into the very truth of the matter. A truth that had taken her by surprise—the fact that he still had her heart. But she wasn’t ready to deal with that issue herself, let alone admit it to Matt, of all people.

She fixed him with a dubious rise of her brow. “Oh, please. Don’t make this about you.”

He held up his hand in truce fashion. “Far be it from me to be so egotistical.” But his eyes glinted with amusement.

Raven rolled her eyes. He exuded ego.

“What about you? Why haven’t you moved on?” Desperate to get the focus off of her own life and motives, Raven took a chance on the question, knowing he would more than likely open up all the raw wounds between them. This news story had better be worth all the pain.

He studied her, his blue eyes squinting with intensity, as though probing her mind. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze evenly, hoping against hope that she had met her objective and accomplished an expression of passive interest.

“Why haven’t I moved on?” He leaned back in his seat as he repeated her question. “I guess I never found the right girl. No one measures up to Raven Mahoney. Didn’t you know that?”

He was mocking her. Raven knew it and she felt the blush creep to her cheeks in hot trails.

He smiled. “Actually, I’ve just been too busy. First, with law school. And I have to thank you for all my good grades, by the way—if you hadn’t dumped me, I’d have been much too distracted to pass the bar.”

“You’re welcome,” Raven said dryly.

He gave her an appreciative smile for taking the joke as it was intended. “After law school I worked for three years in the offices of Tyler, Hillman and Long.”

“Very prestigious. I’m duly impressed.”

“As I intended you to be. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” Raven’s heart nearly soared at the banter. They had settled into the easy back-and-forth just as though time hadn’t moved forward fifteen years without them.

“Then I went to work as an intern in Senator Grady’s office. Eighty-hour work weeks don’t make for a romantic atmosphere. I barely had time to sleep and spend time with my d—”

An arrow of sharp instinct lodged into Raven’s senses. She raised her brow? “Your what? Dominoes? Diary? Dear old aunt?” She grinned.

With an indulgent smile at her attempt at humor, he gave her another studied look, then almost in defeat, sighed. “My daughter.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a billfold. He handed her a photograph. An adorable little girl with brown hair and marked freckles grinned back at her, revealing two missing front teeth. “That’s a couple of years old. Her teeth have grown in.”

Matt’s pride in the girl was obvious.

Questions tripped over each other in Raven’s mind until she wanted to give them expression, but she sat up a little straighter and forced herself to hold back. A professional never overwhelmed the interviewee.
Tread carefully, Raven. Don’t scare him off
.

“She’s cute.” She smiled. “Doesn’t look a thing like you, though.”

“She’s adopted.”

“Wow, Matt. That’s amazing.”

“You don’t sound amazed.” A frown creased his brow.

“I’m just wondering why a single man with a busy and promising career would feel the need to adopt. It’s not like you even have a wife to give the child a mother. Why not just find a woman, get married and have a little princess of your own?”

He raised an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tipping in a mocking smile. “Are you applying for the job? Because if you play your cards right—”

“All right!” Raven reached for her water glass with a trembling hand. “You’re going to have to stop bringing up our past as though we’re still a couple, Matthew. It’s….ridiculous.”

“Then you’re going to have to stop behaving like a reporter. I don’t like being interrogated—especially where my family is concerned.”

“I
am
a reporter. Remember?”

“Funny, and I thought you were an old friend.”

The waiter appeared with their food, effectively cutting off Raven’s reply. For the moment. Matthew turned an expectant gaze back to her. “Do you want to ask the blessing or should I?”

Alarm shot through Raven. Matthew frowned, obviously confused by her hesitation. ‘Everything okay?”

“Uh—yeah,” she said. “You pray.”

He did so, then picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “Well?” he asked. “Are you here as an old friend or as a reporter?”

“I didn’t realize it was taboo for ‘old friends’ to ask about family, Matthew. Or is your personal life only off
limits to
some
old friends?” It had taken her the five minutes the waiter was beside their table to come up with the proper response, and she couldn’t help but silently bless the server for coming to her rescue. Her words nailed him with their intended effect.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I tend to live with a bit of an edge lately. Suspicion is my middle name.”

“Listen, I understand. I’m not one to discuss my personal life much either. I just thought…” She gathered a deep breath just before hammering in the nail. “I just thought you wanted us to be friends again.”

Matthew couldn’t put his finger on exactly why he didn’t trust Raven. Perhaps because she was a reporter, perhaps because she’d suddenly shown up out of nowhere. Perhaps because she had broken his heart and left a gaping wound to remind him not to trust her.

Friends
. She was offering friendship when he wanted so much more. He wanted her love, her adoration, her devotion. He wanted her heart and body—in a pure and holy union before God.

Friendship wouldn’t do. He’d rather never see Raven again than be forced into a lesser relationship.

On the other hand, perhaps some time on a friendship basis with her would give her a chance to realize she still loved him. And Matthew knew she still cared. He could read it in her eyes, had felt it in the rapid pulse at the base of her wrist. Perhaps he could finally get an answer—once and for all—as to the reason she had walked away from their love.

“Friends, huh? You’re right. All of my friends know about my daughter. So why should you be any different?”

“Well, look. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t
have to. We haven’t seen each other in a very long time. You might not want to become reacquainted.”

There it was again. That feeling she was playing him. Would she be so callous as to use his feelings for her just to bring home a story?

“I want to tell you about Jamie.”

“Jamie, huh? Named after your dad.” She smiled. “That means you’ve had her since she was a baby.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You named her. I can’t see you adopting an older child and changing her name.”

Matthew grinned. “Always thinking deductively, aren’t you?”

A shrug lifted slender shoulders. “Comes with the job.”

“All right. Yes. I took her home from the hospital and she’s been my daughter since the day she was born.”

“What of her birth parents?”

The question was to be expected. Still Matthew hesitated.

“Not something you want to talk about?” Raven asked, her gorgeous brown eyes fixed on him, almost daring him to close the subject and prove he didn’t trust her.

“Her mother is my sister.”

“Casey?”

“Yes.”

“She wasn’t married, I take it.”

“No, she wasn’t. The baby’s father sweet-talked her out of her entire trust fund then beat her half to death when she wised up and tried to leave him—by then she was pregnant. It’s amazing she didn’t lose the baby.”

“Oh, Matthew. I’m so sorry to hear that. How is she now?”

“Honestly? She’s brain-damaged. Mentally she’s about Jamie’s age.”

“He beat her that badly? Did he go to jail for it?”

“He went to jail for other things.”

“I’m guessing the judge revoked his parental rights?”

“A judge didn’t have to. Ray gave up his parental rights more than willingly. Signed Jamie over to me legally.”

“How is it that the press didn’t make a big deal about this? Jamie has to be around six or seven at least.”

“She’s eight. And the reason no one knows about her is because I’ve purposely kept a low profile. Remember we’re just wrapping up the primary season. If I had continued on to the general election, I’m sure it would have come up.”

She clamped her lips together as though purposely keeping her mouth shut. But Matthew saw the unasked questions lingering in her eyes. He didn’t blame her. He supposed she instinctively formed the right questions in her mind. And that’s what made her so good at her job. But reporter or no, to her credit she didn’t pry.

“So tell me about your family. How’s your dad?”

Raven’s face clouded.

“What is it? Is he all right?”

“Oh, just a little high blood pressure and a fiancée who doesn’t help it.” She gave him a dubious grin. “Other than that, he’s all right.”

“Then why the long face?”

“Long face?”

“During our…previous acquaintance…your face lit up like a light show any time you mentioned your dad. The wonderful and wise Mac Mahoney. No one measured up, and, quite frankly, I was a little jealous.”

A throaty laugh lifted into the air between them. “Believe me, Mac is still wonderful and wise. But let’s just say I’m a little wiser as well.”

“That’s nice and cryptic of you.”

She shrugged, her face hardening. “Not cryptic, just not a topic open for discussion.”

“I see. You want your ‘friends’ to open up their family drama, but you’re not willing to do the same. Typical.”

“Oh, please. Don’t try to turn this around on me.”

“Would you like dessert?” The waiter’s sudden appearance gave Matthew a start.

“No, thank you,” Raven snapped. “I’d like the check please.”

“
I’d
like the check,” Matthew corrected, eyeing the waiter sternly.

“Don’t you dare give it to him!”

“Shall I split it between you?” the waiter asked, his expression that of a deer caught in headlights.

“Yes, we’ll go Dutch.”

Matthew released an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he said to the waiter. “Split the check.”

Smoke curled into the air from the cigarette clenched between his lips. He leaned against his car and watched the couple coming out of the restaurant across the street. Brief panic grabbed his stomach as the man hesitated, glanced toward him.

In a fit of daring, he’d parked right below the streetlight, which illuminated his blue hood. Now he had to wonder how smart it was to be parked where they might glance over and see him any second. But if Matthew Strong noticed a man leaning against an old blue beater, smoking a cigarette, he made no indication of it. Typical of a politician. Unless there were a baby he could kiss or a cause he could exploit, he wouldn’t take notice of anything past the end of his own nose.

Raven Mahoney glanced at her watch impatiently, waiting for the valet to bring her car around. Her sleek
black hair swayed with the jerky movements that clearly stated her irritation.

He’d recognize her anywhere. Even in the misty night, he could see her beauty every bit as defined as on television.

He took a long, slow drag from his cigarette and watched as a champagne-colored luxury car approached. The politician exchanged what was presumably a tip, for his keys. He opened the door to Raven’s car for her and she slid not-so-gracefully inside.