Fatal Trust (11 page)

She removed his hand. “If you touch it again, I’m having you
arrested for assault.”

“Obviously you aren’t drunk.” He kissed her neck, then his
tone lowered and roughened. “Which is a good thing, since the way you look
tonight, I feel like doing more than just dancing with you. And I don’t take
advantage of drunk women.” He put his lips to her ear. “Pretend like you’re
turned on.”

His touch, his tone, and his words did make Lexie’s body
heat, but she certainly wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m not that good an
actress.”

“Give it a shot.” He caressed her bare upper back,
triggering goose bumps. His body had responded, too, although that just meant
Ben was male—a stiff breeze could trigger the same reaction.

Ben reached down and cupped her butt again, pressing her
harder against him. It felt so good Lexie didn’t even consider telling him to
move it or lose it. Her entire body was throbbing, just as it had when she’d
blamed it on being drunk. Except now she was sober.

“How am I doing?” she asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
“My acting, I mean.” To her disgust, she sounded breathless.

“Babe, you deserve an Oscar.” He kissed her neck.

Remember Rule 148. Guys who call you “babe” are bad news.
Lexie’s brain told her that, but she ignored it. “Good,” she got out just
before his lips met hers.

He tasted of mint, which she’d never realized was an
aphrodisiac. Although her sprinting heart and melting body were probably due
more to the soft pressure and heat of Ben’s lips and tongue as he expertly
kissed her.

His fingers slipped under one strap of her sundress,
caressing the crest of her breast. The Clothes Garden hadn’t stocked strapless
bras, so Lexie was braless tonight. Her nipple pearled, and she shifted against
Ben, silently urging him to move his fingers lower.

“I think we should get out of here,” he murmured, his lips a
fraction of an inch from hers. “Because people would expect us to.”

“Right. Cecilia drove, didn’t she?” He kissed her again.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ben, but Cecilia needs help.”

Peter’s voice broke through Lexie’s lust-induced stupor.

“Dylan’s about to get into a fight with Lyle Martin,” he
continued. “Cecilia’s trying to calm him down, but it isn’t working.”

Ben released Lexie. “Damn. Where is he?”

“In Lee’s parking lot,” Peter said.

Lexie followed Ben and Peter off the dance floor. It was
amazing how fast her mind focused and her hormones cooled down. Probably
because she didn’t want any beneficiary besides the one she was sure had killed
Max to end up in jail overnight and therefore lose out on the trust, since that
could trigger a lawsuit that would upset the trustee. And she especially didn’t
want that to happen to Dylan, which would also upset J.P.

A dozen people had gathered to watch the show going on in
the blacktopped parking lot of Lee’s Market.

“Ben. Thank God,” Cecilia said when she spotted him. “He
won’t listen to me.”

“I’m going to knock you on your fat ass,” Dylan said. His
hair was halfway out of his ponytail, and he was nose to nose with a guy who
was bigger and presumably just as drunk as he was.

“Who are you calling a fat ass?”

Ben stepped up and took Dylan’s arm, pulling him away from
his opponent. “Dylan, it’s time to leave.”

“I was dancing with Mary Lynn, and he butted in. I have to
defend my honor. And Mary Lynn’s honor.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too chicken to fight me,” Lyle said.

“I’m not chicken. Ben, this asshole claims he’s gonna bust
my pretty face, but I’ll show him. I’ll beat the shit out of him.” Dylan tried
unsuccessfully to shake free of Ben’s arm.

In response, Ben grabbed Dylan’s other arm. “Maybe you will,
but if you beat the shit out of Lyle, you’ll be hauled to jail.” His calm tone
was a marked contrast to Dylan’s belligerence. “We won’t be able to get you out
until tomorrow, so you’ll miss out on spending tonight at Nevermore. You know
what that means, don’t you?”

“That I’ll lose Grandfather’s money?”

“At least you’re sober enough to remember that,” Ben said.
“Do you honestly think punching out this guy is worth all those millions?”

“I forgot the bastard’s loaded,” Lyle said. “Hell, I’m going
to sue him for threatening me.”

“Trust me, you don’t have a case,” Lexie said.

Lyle looked at her and snorted. “You’re the stripper, aren’t
you? What the hell do you know about suing people?”

Lexie lifted her chin. “Actually, I’m a cocktail waitress.
Some of my best customers are lawyers, so I’ve learned a lot about lawsuits.
You bring a frivolous one, and the judge won’t like it. You’ll end up paying a
whole lot of attorneys’ fees and court costs. You’ll probably also end up
paying Dylan a fortune, since from what I heard, you threatened him more than
he did you. In front of a lot of witnesses.”

Ben smiled at the petite redhead who was watching the fight
with interest. “You’ll have to stick with your fiancé tonight, Mary Lynn. Dylan
has to go.” He turned his attention to Cecilia. “Lexie and I were about to
leave, so we’ll take him home.”

“Mary Lynn is engaged to that bozo?” Dylan asked as he, Ben,
and Lexie made their way to Ben’s truck.

“Yep.”

“Why’d she come and ask me to dance?”

“Maybe because her fiancé isn’t about to inherit a fortune,”
Ben said.

“And because you’re much sexier than he is,” Lexie added.
Alcoholics frequently had self-image problems. Letting Dylan think his only
attraction was his bank balance wouldn’t help that.

Dylan put his arm around Lexie. “I’m also a lot sexier than
Ben. And I’ve never made it with a stripper.”

Okay, so a poor self-image wasn’t the reason Dylan drank too
much.

“Get your hands off my woman, or I’ll be forced to beat the
shit out of you,” Ben said before Lexie could respond.

Dylan released Lexie. “Then you’d end up in jail and miss out
on Grandfather’s money.”

“Here’s the truck, Dylan,” Ben said. “Let’s get you into the
back.”

“Isn’t it illegal for a person to ride in the back?” Lexie
asked as Ben helped Dylan into the bed of his pickup.

“You want him squished between us?” Ben asked. “He could
puke any minute.”

“You’ve got a point.”

When Lexie and Ben were seated in the pickup, she gave him a
saccharine smile. “It’s so sweet you’d give up your inheritance for me.”

“I’ve never made it with a stripper, either.” He started the
truck.

The drive home was silent, except for snores loud enough to
be heard over the pickup’s engine. Lexie watched through the back window,
concerned Dylan might jump or fall out. But he was lying so still that if he
hadn’t been snoring, she’d have worried he was dead.

“I’d better make sure Dylan gets into bed,” Ben said when
they’d arrived at Nevermore. “The trust doesn’t specify that he stay inside the
house, but he could decide he needs to take a leak and wander into the next
county.”

“That’s a good idea.” Lexie opened the passenger door. “Do
you need my help?”

“I can handle him. Go to bed.”

She waited until Ben was out of the pickup before heading
into the house. “Thanks for convincing me to go to the dance and giving me a
ride home.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Ben said, coming up beside her.

“It was—interesting.”

“It was. You’re a hell of an actress.” Ben smiled slowly and
ran a finger down her cheek. “Assuming you were acting.”

His touch shot heat through Lexie’s body. She took a step
backward, away from his finger. “I was.”

His smile grew. “Right. Sleep well, Lexie.”

Ben’s smile faded as he dragged Dylan upstairs and deposited
him on his bed, and not just because Dylan was damn heavy. To be honest, he was
grateful to Dylan, since otherwise he’d have been in danger of doing something
really asinine, like taking Lexie to bed. He’d only kissed her to convince the
crowd—and Jeremy—that she was at Nevermore because she was his girlfriend. For
some reason he’d gotten carried away, just like he had that night after Walt’s.

But he was not sleeping with Lexie, even though she’d turned
out to be a lot different than he’d expected, even though he enjoyed talking to
her, even though she made him hotter than any woman in recent memory. A
one-night stand with her would be a bad idea for all sorts of reasons. As he’d
told Grandfather, he had a feeling it was also more likely to make her leave
than stick around.

And she was going to be furious enough when she found out
he’d lied to her.

Thank God for Dylan
.
Lexie woke up mentally repeating the same mantra that had lulled her to sleep
last night. Because if Dylan hadn’t been stupid enough to get drunk and into a
fight, she’d probably have done something even stupider.

What had she been thinking? Granted, there wasn’t any
ethical reason not to sleep with Ben. He wasn’t her client, and First Trust
knew she was working with him. He also wasn’t a suspect. She’d realized almost
immediately that her theory that Max might have had her work with Ben in hopes
he’d trip up didn’t make sense. Max didn’t want his murderer to realize he knew
he’d been murdered, so he certainly wouldn’t have alerted Ben if he suspected
him. More important, Max would never have endangered Jessica’s niece by putting
her in close contact with someone he considered capable of murder.

Just because sleeping with Ben wouldn’t jeopardize her
career didn’t make it a good idea, though. She didn’t do one-night stands, and
no way would Ben ever fall into the relationship category. Her ideal man was
the intellectual, professional type, someone with more brains than brawn, who
shared her interests and desire to get ahead. Even though he’d proven to be a
lot smarter and more evolved than she’d originally feared, and ambitious enough
to want to expand his business, Ben wasn’t in the same book as those guys, let
alone on the same page. Her mother would have a fit.

Which was the point.

Lexie sat up in bed, the explanation so obvious she couldn’t
believe she hadn’t figured it out before. Sleeping with Ben would simply be
another of her periodic mini-rebellions against her mother, like buying shoes
in a non-neutral color or eating at a restaurant that didn’t have a wine list
or, worse yet, at a Burger King. Some of it could also be her vacation mentality
where she got to pretend to be a cocktail waitress and do things she’d
otherwise never have considered.

But she wasn’t a cocktail waitress or on vacation, and if
she wanted to rebel against her mother, she’d buy some more things from The
Clothes Garden. She was here to do a job, and she couldn’t let anything
jeopardize that. She got out of bed and hurriedly dressed. She was going to
make it clear to Ben she wasn’t interested in being one of his conquests, just
his partner in finding Max’s murderer.

When she got to the dining room, Cecilia was alone there
eating a blueberry scone. She had her dark hair in a ponytail, emphasizing her
classically beautiful features.

“Has Ben already left?” Lexie asked.

Cecilia nodded. “His pickup was gone when I came down. I
want to apologize for my brother. I’m sorry he ruined last night for you two.”

“He didn’t,” Lexie said, probably more vehemently than she
should have.

Cecilia grinned. “Good. I’m glad you and Ben had a chance to
finish what you started at the street dance.”

Lexie felt her cheeks heating. “Did you have fun?”

“Actually I did,” Cecilia said. “But now I have a big
problem. Peter asked me to dinner tonight. I couldn’t think of a good reason to
turn him down, so I said yes.”

Lexie filled a coffee cup, then sat down at the table.
“Don’t you like him?”

“It’s not that.” Cecilia’s features tightened. “He’s a
doctor and trained in Chicago, but came back here a couple of years ago to take
over his dad’s practice. He’s committed to staying in Lakeview, and I’d die in
a small town like this.”

“You’re just going on one date.”

“I don’t work that way,” Cecilia said, waving her half-eaten
scone. “Every date I’ve had since I turned eighteen has been with a man I’m
hoping to marry. I can’t be like you and date a guy when I know nothing will
come of it.”

If Ben had encouraged Peter to meet Cecilia, he must think
Peter would be good for her in at least the short term. It was worth trying to
convince her to give him a shot. “I’ll bet the reason you’ve only dated men you
considered marriage material is because you thought you needed a man to support
you financially,” Lexie said. “Now that you don’t, you can date for fun, lots
of different guys, since your only concern is whether you’re having a good
enough time for a next date.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“Try going out on a casual date. If you don’t like dating
for fun, you can always go back to being serious.”

Cecilia nodded but looked even tenser. “Except I told Peter
I was divorced.” She set her scone on her plate.

“That obviously isn’t a problem for him.”

“He thinks I only meant once. He doesn’t know I’ve been
divorced three times.”

Lexie’s forehead creased. “How could he not know, the way
gossip travels around here?”

“I’ve never lived here, so no one knows that much about me.
Just Ben, Grandfather, and Aunt Muriel, and none of them gossips. At least not
about family.”

“Has Peter ever been married?”

Cecilia shook her head. “Although he lived with a woman for
a couple of years.”

“So he understands that sometimes serious relationships
don’t work out.”

“Three times?”

“Go out tonight and see what happens,” Lexie said. “If he’s
a doctor, he might have a God complex like my ex, and you’ll decide you never
want to see him again.”

“Then I won’t have to care what he thinks,” Cecilia said,
her expression relaxing. “I wish you and Ben did have something serious going
on. Not just because I think you’re good for him, but because I’d like it if
you were part of our family. I’ll miss you when we leave Nevermore.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” That was true, although she had a
feeling Cecilia wouldn’t feel the same once she found out why Lexie was really
at Nevermore. “We can still keep in touch even if I’m no longer with Ben.”

“I’d like that,” Cecilia said. She got to her feet. “Thanks
for the advice.”

“Any time,” Lexie said. Like she was in a position to give
advice on relationships. Not with one humiliating divorce under her belt and a
major case of lust for a man who gave new meaning to the word “inappropriate,”
even if it was simply a form of rebellion.

Cecilia had only been gone a minute when Jeremy waltzed into
the dining room.

“Just the woman I was looking for,” he said. “It’s a
beautiful day for boating, and I don’t feel like going alone. Come with me.”

“I didn’t finish my paper,” Lexie said, thankful she had the
excuse ready.

“Work on it this morning. We’ll go out this afternoon.” He
took her hand and looked down at her, his dark eyes smoldering. “I promise
you’ll love it.”

Her brain told her Jeremy was one of the sexiest men she’d
met in ages. Despite that, her heart rate didn’t accelerate, her temperature
didn’t spike, and her stomach didn’t flit, let alone flutter. Then again, her
mother would probably approve of Jeremy.

Lexie still had no desire to ride on a speedboat, but riding
in the open water was a lot safer than on a motorcycle. Ben hadn’t gotten any
information about Jeremy’s finances—probably because he was afraid he’d learn
Jeremy didn’t have a motive. Knowing Ben, he’d use that failure as an excuse to
delay hiring a P.I. And she needed to hire one and get back to Philadelphia
ASAP, before her rebelling hormones made her do something she regretted.

“What time do we leave?”

At just after noon, the air was warm, the sky cloudless and
magnificently blue, the bright sun making Lake Superior glitter like a
multifaceted sapphire. According to the marina owner, days like this were why
residents were willing put up with nearly six months of winter.

Lexie would have given anything for some threatening gray
clouds and an approaching thunderstorm. Because at the moment she was staring
at the largest powerboat at the Lakeview Marina, her heart in her throat. From
its pointed nose, sleek body, racing stripes, and the fact it was called
“Lightning,” she could guarantee this one wasn’t big because it was a slow
family vehicle.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Jeremy handed her a life jacket.
“You’re in for a treat. This baby can do over a hundred.”

Lexie swallowed hard. “Miles per hour?”

“Yep. Like I said, you’ll love it.”

Wrong.
At
least motorcycles had to comply with posted speed limits. Sure, she could swim
and would be wearing a life jacket, but she’d read about people being paralyzed
and even killed by the force of hitting the water after being thrown from a
boat going too damn fast. Lake Superior also was cold, so cold that dead bodies
sank in it. Even if she didn’t drown, she could die of hypothermia and be on
the lake bottom with the shipwrecks before anyone missed her.

She opened her mouth to tell Jeremy she’d changed her mind,
and then closed it. She had a job to finish, and this could be her best chance
to talk to him and rule him in or out as a suspect. She put on her life jacket,
then carefully got into the tippy boat and positioned herself on the padded
seat beside his.

She closed her eyes, taking theoretically relaxing breaths
as Jeremy fiddled with a couple of things. Even with the rhythmic waves as a
calming background, her heart was still pummeling her chest and stomach when he
started the engine. “Here we go.”

Lexie opened her eyes and gripped the side of the boat as he
steered through the sailboats and smaller powerboats surrounding them. When
they’d cleared the harbor, he sped up, as did Lexie’s breathing. A glance at
the speedometer showed they hadn’t even hit thirty, and her knuckles were
already as white as the boat.

It was going to be a very long afternoon.

“Thanks for taking me out,” Lexie said as she and Jeremy
walked from his car to Nevermore late that afternoon. “I had a great time.”

To her surprise, that was true. She’d eventually stopped
hyperventilating long enough to realize that Jeremy was a safe and skilled
driver, the boat was built to be stable at high speeds, and there wasn’t much
other traffic to run into. Once she’d gotten to that point, she’d stopped being
scared and started appreciating being out on the water on such a beautiful day.

Actually, she hadn’t just stopped being scared—she’d started
to love going fast, feeling the wind against her cheeks and the fresh air
cleansing her lungs. The boat sliced the water so smoothly they could have been
flying above it. When Jeremy had let her drive, she’d had it over sixty before
she’d realized it.

“We’ll go out again tomorrow, and you can do more driving,”
Jeremy said. “I didn’t know you were such a speed demon.”

“Neither did I. I’ll try to control myself.”

He took her hand and grinned at her. “Please don’t. I like
women when they’re out of control.”

“Lexie. I’ve been looking for you.”

Lexie turned to see Ben striding toward them. His faded
jeans were ripped at the knee, he was wearing an oil-stained Budweiser T-shirt
and a Twins cap, and he still made her body heat. This rebellion thing was
getting out of hand.

She glanced at her watch. It was four thirty-five, and he
usually didn’t show up at Nevermore until just before sherry hour. Or just
before one in the morning.

“I thought you were working,” she said.

“I came home at three thirty today. I was looking forward to
spending time with you, but you weren’t around.” His voice vibrated with anger.

Lexie’s own temper spiked. He had no right to be angry when
he hadn’t bothered mentioning he’d be coming home early, presumably to analyze
what they knew. She narrowed her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Jeremy took me
out on his friend’s powerboat.”

“Seth told me.”

Lexie gave Jeremy a warm smile. “Thanks for taking me.”

“My pleasure. Let me know what time you want to go out
tomorrow.”

“She’s going sailing with me tomorrow.” Ben’s hands fisted
at his sides.

“Is that what you want, Lexie?” Jeremy asked.

What she wanted was to get out of here without Ben slugging
Jeremy, so she swallowed her own annoyance and nodded. “Maybe we can go out
some other day.”

“Or not,” Ben said.

“I’ll see you later,” Jeremy said, and then he started up
Nevermore’s front steps.

The instant Jeremy was inside the house, Lexie planted her
hands on her hips and raised her chin. “I feel like I just witnessed a junior
high pissing contest.” She kept her voice low, practically hissing out the
words. “What’s the big deal if I went boating with Jeremy? It’s not like I’m
really your girlfriend. And it was a good opportunity to find out whether he
has a financial motive to murder your grandfather.”

“Olivia said his last couple of deals fell apart,” Ben said.

So she’d risked her life on the boat for nothing—that she’d
ended up enjoying it was irrelevant. “You could have told me that.”

“I thought I did.”

“You didn’t, but Jeremy did. That doesn’t mean he’s in dire
enough need of money to kill anyone. He said he’s got another deal about to
close that will more than make up for those failures. His lifestyle certainly
isn’t suffering.”

“How do you know that?”

From Ben’s dark look, he wouldn’t be happy to hear about
Jeremy’s invitation to fly her to New York to check out his condo. “He just got
back from a two-week vacation on the French Riviera.”

“So he claims,” Ben said. “Even if he’s telling the truth,
it doesn’t prove he isn’t living on credit. Maybe he knew he didn’t have to
worry about money because he’d already paid someone to knock off Grandfather.”

“You’re going to suspect Jeremy no matter what you find
out,” Lexie said. “I don’t think—”

“Who the hell is that?” Ben asked, interrupting her. He was
looking over her shoulder.

Lexie turned to see a white Cadillac pulling up behind her.
“Oh, God.”

A plot twist this scene did not need.

“Who is it?” Ben asked again.

Before she could answer, J.P. got out of the car. He was
dressed the same as when she’d met him, except today’s polo shirt was lime
green.