Hot and Irresistible (20 page)

Ray seemed frozen in place. Not breathing. His gaze fused to hers and she knew from the shock, sorrow, and love all mixed together in his blue eyes so much like hers she didn’t have things wrong at all. It was if a hundred-pound weight lifted from her shoulders. Surreal, as if she were seeing this happen outside her body.

“Lizzy?” It was barely a whisper.

“You named me Lizzy? Like in lizard?” She laughed through her tears because she was happy beyond words.

“Elizabeth. Your mother’s idea after that Elizabeth Taylor person.”

She had a name, a real name…even if it was after a movie star…from a real parent. “Least she didn’t go with Cher.”

She wiped away tears and Ray wobbled. Pulling out a chair, she sat him down. He blinked as if trying to wake up from a dream. Boy, did she know that feeling! “I…”

She sat down across from him and took his hands in hers. “You what?”

“I think Lizzy’s a stupid name, too, always did.” He held her hands tight enough to hurt, as if when he let go, she’d go, too. “Keep Bebe.” He closed his eyes for a second, his broad strong shoulders sagging. “All this time,” he said in a tortured voice that squeezed her heart. “I never knew, never suspected. Your mama divorced me for some cattle rancher in Brazil. Babies went with the mother. I tried to find out about you but got nowhere. Even flew to Brazil myself, but it was as if you vanished. Boarding school in Switzerland, someone said, but that’s all I got. And the whole time you were…” He took a breath. “Your mama died about thirteen years ago.”

“That would make me seventeen, when Dara threw me out of the house.”

“Dara,” Ray said, a menacing edge in his voice. Anger replaced sorrow. “When your mother stopped paying her to keep you.”

“Do you think Dara knew?”

He sat there for a long moment, just staring at her, his eyes a bit brighter now, his face a little younger. He kissed her left hand, then her right. “No need for you to worry about Dara now, you’re here with me. I’m sorry, honey. I am sorry for both of us. I never forgot you even for a minute, down to the little birthmark on your back. You’ve always been a part of me.” He pulled a green poker chip with a white gull from his pants pocket and placed it carefully on the table. “I always kept you with me.”

“And why would you want to keep Bebe with you?” Beau said as he came in through the back door. He loomed over Bebe. “What are you here to accuse my father of now? I should call our lawyers and get this straightened out. She has no business harassing you like this, Dad.”

A tear slid down Ray’s weathered cheek and Bebe started to cry and Beau looked from one to the other. “Good God in heaven, what have you found? What’s going on? Did Donovan get that damn warrant? Ever since that guy came to town there’s been nothing but trouble. Fuck.”

“Watch your terminology, son. There’s a lady present.” Ray pulled in a deep breath, then got three glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard.

Beau rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re drinking at noon? It’s that bad, huh?”

Ray poured. “Not bad. Good. Damn good and you better sit down.” He put a glass in Beau’s hand. “You’re going to be needing this and probably the rest of the bottle to boot. There’s news.”

Bebe looked from Charlotte’s bugged eyes to Brie’s dropped jaw to Prissy fanning herself with a napkin off the table at the Magnolia House restaurant. “It’s true, I swear it.” She looked around the patio at the scant three o’clock crowd to make sure she wouldn’t scandalize anyone. She lifted her blouse like she’d done for Ray…for her dad…a few hours ago.

“Lord have mercy and saints preserve us.” Prissy flattened the palm of her hand to her forehead. “All this time you’ve been walking around with this tracking device right there on your back and nobody knew. And if you had worn a bikini like the rest of us we would have noticed it long ago. See, that’s what happens when you ignore the fashion gods, they poop on you. The moral of all this is everyone needs to shop and be happy and I do have to say, you do look mighty happy at the moment.”

Squealing as if it finally sank in, Prissy jumped up and hugged Bebe, Charlotte kissed one cheek, and Brie kissed the other, and suddenly Daemon Rutledge appeared with a bottle of champagne. “Well now, is all this excitement over the new engagement I just heard about?”

They all looked at each other and Charlotte said, “Uh, not exactly. Bebe just found out she’s Ray Cleveland’s daughter. All this time no one knew. Can you imagine?”

“Like in some Gothic novel,” Prissy added laughing. Rutledge nearly dropped the tray and Prissy steadied it. “That’s pretty much the way we all feel.”

Rutledge composed himself and cleared his throat. “Well, I do declare, that is some kind of news. All these years his little Lizzy’s been gone and Ms. Bebe ends up being her. How…How long have you known?”

Bebe looked at her watch. “I’ve had a father and a brother for five whole hours.”

“And that is indeed wonderful news,” Mr. Rutledge said, still looking unnerved. “You must be very happy, and I’m guessing Mr. Ray is tickled now on two accounts. Mr. Beau put in a call to me saying to bring over this bottle of champagne to Ms. BrieAnn. He knew you all were meeting here and would want to toast his lovely bride and some other fine news and that must have been the news about Ms. Bebe being his…sister. Mercy.”

This time all of them stared at Brie with their mouths open.

“I was going to tell you, but we were all in shock over Bebe, and now Beau beat me to the finish. Isn’t that just like a man to get there before you do?” She winked.

“We’re thrilled to pieces for you,” Charlotte said, and Prissy added, “And your mama had a heart attack and the judge wrote you out of the will.”

“That is entirely up to Mama and Daddy, but I’m marrying Beau and that’s all there is to it.”

Mr. Rutledge nodded. “And I must say a fine husband he’ll be to you, Ms. BrieAnn. My sincere congratulations. I wish you every happiness.” He left still looking confused and Bebe had the same feeling. She raised her glass. “To a Vera Wang wedding dress for Brie.”

“And to better times ahead for you,” Brie toasted back. “And they got to be better with Dara out of the picture.” They drank down the champagne and Prissy said, “Do you think Dara knew who you were all the while?”

“Ray thinks so.”

“Oh Lordy.” Charlotte put down her glass, looking concerned. “That is indeed unfortunate. Ray Cleveland is not a man to be crossed. He has two things you don’t mess with, his family and his money, and family has always been first. I remember the time in high school when that biology teacher was giving Beau a hard time for no good reason. The man quit his job and left Savannah in less than a day, not even bothering to take his clothes with him, and we all knew why.”

“You don’t think Ray would…”

“I think you should warn Dara to get out of Savannah and not leave a forwarding address and do it right quick and one of us should go with you.”

“I think you all need to talk bridesmaid dresses, wedding colors, and flowers and think about getting Anthony and Vincent to do the wedding cake and if you put me in pink chiffon I’ll strangle someone. For once in my life I believe I can handle Dara. There may even be laws broken here. Maybe I can arrest her. Can you imagine Dara in an orange jumpsuit cleaning litter from the side of the road? I believe today is going to be a really good day. I’m going to tell Dara to get the heck out of Savannah and never bother me again.”

Buoyant to the point of not feeling her feet touch the sidewalk, Bebe headed for St. Julian Street. She hated Dara, no doubt about it, but she had a family now and that took the sting out of anything Dara could say. Bebe had Beau and Ray and soon Brie would be her sister-in-law. There would be family parties and family dinners and Thanksgiving and there would be Christmas and presents under the tree and she could use that tartan plaid tablecloth she’d bought and she hoped Ray liked cats.

Dara’s Audi sat at the curb and Bebe took the brick walkway between the English boxwoods with the purple flowering ornamental pear on one side and the bubbling stone fountain on the other. This time she’d see Dara on her terms, when Bebe was the one in charge. She raised the brass knocker once, then twice, and when no one came she knocked a third time. Maybe Dara was already packing?

“Dara,” Bebe called while opening the door to a mess of a house that resembled her apartment when someone broke in. “Dara?” The back door stood open. All was quiet, much too quiet. Bebe pulled her weapon and crept up the stairs. She inched open a bedroom door to more mess like downstairs. She looked across the hall into another toppled bedroom and to Dara’s body on the floor, beady gray eyes that looked evil even in death staring at the ceiling. And there was a bullet hole right in Dara’s forehead.

It wasn’t just the good who die young, after all. Sometimes the bad got it, too. And Dara took bad to a new level. Weren’t villains supposed to have some redeeming characteristic? That Buffalo Bill guy in
Silence of the Lambs
had that cute little dog he loved. Even the dinosaurs in
Jurassic Park
ate the bad guy and Darth Vader ended up being Luke’s father. Dara did have kids, five mean-as-catshit brats. She didn’t cook or clean. She did watch
Oprah
, but Bebe wasn’t going to hold that against Oprah. Nope, not one single good quality. Dara totally sucked…but not anymore!

But as many times as Bebe imagined such a delightful scene did it have to be now? Dead Dara would lead straight back to Ray being Bebe’s dad and him not being thrilled with her keeping her little secret all to herself. Ray’s protection of family was legendary and Dara’s death made Ray look like the killer. Why couldn’t someone have plugged Dara twenty years ago when it would have done Bebe some good?

Bebe felt kind of bad about not feeling bad, but it only lasted a few seconds and was gone. She called dispatch and gave the information and resisted the urge to dance fearing she might wind up in hell for such a thing, though maybe she could sneak in a little skip. Maybe God wouldn’t mind a little skipping, or at least look the other way while she did it.

“What are you doing?” came Donovan’s voice from the doorway.

“Savoring the moment, wanna join in? She was dead when I got here, but why the heck are you here? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Back door was open. It occurred to me that Cleveland may not be too thrilled with Dara keeping his daughter from him all these years. I thought someone should have a little chat with her and let her know what’s going on. I tried calling, got no answer, and came over.” He nodded at the body. “Looks like Ray already expressed his disapproval.”

“Okay, wait a minute, Sherlock. How do you know for sure it was Cleveland? I came here to tell her to get out of town because Ray may be upset. I didn’t see him when I got here and I didn’t see him running away from the house.”

“Upset?” Donovan rolled his eyes.

“Why would Ray rifle through her house like this. What could Dara have that Ray wanted? Proof that I’m his daughter? That card’s been played. What else is there?”

Sirens sounded in the distance and Donovan said, “Tearing up the place makes it look as if someone was here other than him. This has Cleveland written all over it down to his own personal signature.” He pointed beside the dresser and her eyes followed to a green chip with a white gull in the middle. No. No way. Not now. She grabbed it off the floor as if she were picking up a found penny.

“What the hell are you doing? This is a crime scene. That’s evidence.”

“No. It’s not evidence. It’s just a chip that must be mine that I happened to have dropped when I was skipping around. You know skipping, up and down as in doing the happy dance for dead Dara and shaking everything loose like the chip and it came right out of my pocket.” She dropped it in the front pocket of his jacket. “There, now it’s safe with you and it won’t get dropped again.”

“You’re lying through your teeth.”

“No, I really did skip. It may not be the politically correct thing to do, but I had the right.”

“This is not funny. You’re a cop. You can’t mess with the facts.”

“I’m also a daughter and if you think for one minute I’m giving up my father for the likes of Dara you are so wrong. If it isn’t my chip, then someone dropped it on purpose to frame Ray. He’s not that stupid.”

“You can’t prove it’s a plant.”

“My theory is as good as yours and I will prove that I’m right and I’m not having you drag Ray into the police station on the grounds of one poker chip.” Footsteps sounded below in the hall and then Joe Earl came into the room.

He let out a soft whistle when he saw Dara, then said to Bebe, “Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. If this don’t beat all. And if you did it, honey, I don’t blame you, but I don’t want to know the details.”

Bebe said, “I’m just guessing, but I bet the slug that did in Dara is an old .22 from the same gun that got Donovan and killed Charlotte’s parents.”

“And that would be a gun owned and operated by Ray Cleveland,” Donovan said, looking mad as hell.

Bebe felt sick. This was not the way it was supposed to be today. Today should be a good one, the best to make up for all the un-good ones she ever had. All her life she’d wanted a family. Most of her life she wanted a boyfriend. Then she got both at once and in less than six hours she had to choose between them. God had a very warped sense of humor. “My father is not the killer and I’m not letting you lock him up for something he didn’t do. He wouldn’t have finally found me only to throw it all away over something like Dara. He was pissed. I’m pissed. We’re all pissed but not to the point of committing murder.”