The Virgin Mistress (3 page)

But she still shrank away from a man's touch.

That didn't mean she hadn't tried. She had. But regardless of how much she liked a man, she could never get past her own fears from the past. After years of dis
appointment and dashed expectations, she'd finally accepted the fact that she was never going to be able to have a relationship with a man. So she'd stopped dating. It was just too painful.

But, oh, how Austin tempted her. There was something about him that pulled at her, an attraction she was afraid she couldn't hide, and that horrified her. He would be there any moment, and she was terribly afraid she was going to make a fool of herself.

“He just wants help with the case,” she muttered to herself as she hurriedly straightened the pillows on the couch and checked the rest of the living room to make sure that it was neat and presentable. “He's not interested in you as a woman.”

To make sure she remembered that, she tried to picture him with a bevy of gorgeous blondes doing things with him she could never do. It didn't help. When the doorbell rang, she was suddenly breathless.

Later, she never knew how she faced him with any degree of composure. Her heart was racing, her palms slightly damp, and she felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. But when she opened the door to him, she greeted him with a smile that was calm and serene. If her heart was thundering like a locomotive on a downhill run, no one had to know that but her. “Hi.”

“Thanks for seeing me like this, with no notice,” he said gruffly as he stepped into her living room. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all,” she assured him. Dropping down into her favorite chair in front of the fireplace, she motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. “Now what's this you wanted to run past me? Have you tracked down a suspect?”

“Not exactly,” he said in disgust. “According to
everyone I've talked to, Joe doesn't have any major enemies, but he's ticked off more than a few people over the years. And he invited them all to his party. I was hoping you could help me eliminate some of the names on the list.”

“I'll try,” she promised. “What do you want to know?”

“Start with the immediate family and tell me everything you can about each person's relationship with Joe. Who's close to him, who's not, who argues with him or owes him money or doesn't like his business practices. And don't worry about this going anywhere beyond this room. Whatever you tell me is privileged information.”

He was strictly business and somber as a judge, and Rebecca felt like a fool for thinking he might have stopped by for any other reason than to talk about the case. Thankful he couldn't read her mind, she deliberately focused her thoughts on the family. If he could be all business, so could she.

“I guess I should start with Meredith,” she said quietly. “They argue sometimes, but it's usually over minor things—like having dinner with just the family. She likes to entertain a lot and it drives him nuts.”

Surprised, Austin frowned. “When I was a kid, I got the impression she didn't care much for the social scene. When did that change?”

“I don't know,” she replied, trying to remember. “I guess it was after Joe, Jr. and Teddy were born. Once they were in school, she had more time on her hands and really enjoyed having people over. It just seemed to mushroom after that.”

“And their marriage? It's okay?”

“Oh, I think so,” she replied, surprised that he asked. “It's not all lovey-dovey like it was when they were
younger, but that's pretty normal, isn't it, when people have been married as long as they have? And Meredith changed after the accident.”

The entire family knew about the car accident nine years ago when Meredith was driven off the road by a drunk driver when she was taking Emily for a visit with her natural grandmother. Shaken by the near tragedy, Meredith hadn't been quite the same since.

“She never recovered from that, did she?” Austin asked quietly.

“She's harsher,” Rebecca said. “More on edge. I guess that's what happens when you come so close to death.”

Noncommittal, Austin only shrugged. “Then what about the kids? Do all of them get along with him? I'm not just talking about now,” he said quickly, before she could answer. “Were there any fights or disagreements in the past? Any resentments that might have festered over the years into rage?”

Frowning, Rebecca didn't even have to think about that. “Oh, no. Joe's always been supportive of the kids. He never missed one of Rand's football games if he could help it, and he's crazy about the girls. Drake …” Searching for words to describe Drake, she smiled sadly. “I don't think Drake ever got over Michael's death. I never had a brother and can't imagine what it would be like to lose one, especially a twin. He doesn't let anyone get close to him, but I don't think he harbors any resentment against Joe. He just stays to himself.”

Unable to think of anything else, she grimaced. “This isn't what you wanted to hear, is it? Obviously, Joe's infuriated someone but I don't see how it could be anyone in the family. They're too close-knit for that. It's got to be someone he works with. Have you talked to Graham
or Emmett yet? They'd be able to help you with that more than I would. You have their numbers, don't you?”

Austin nodded. Joe's brother, Graham, and his old army buddy, Emmett Fallon, both worked closely with him at Colton Enterprises and would know better than most any enemies Joe had made in the corporate world. “I have appointments with both of them tomorrow.”

Considering that, there was little left to say, and they both knew it. “I guess I wasn't much help, was I?” she said with a rueful smile. “Sorry.”

She was no sorrier than Austin. Damn, he enjoyed talking to her! And watching her. She was so unpretentious and natural. He liked her smile, her shyness, the sincerity in her eyes. But he'd gotten what he'd come for, and there was no other reason to linger.

Disappointed, he pushed to his feet. “Don't apologize,” he said gruffly as she, too, stood. “I've been out of the family so long that I really don't know anyone anymore. Your insight helped. Thanks.”

He wisely didn't make an excuse to see her again, but walking away from her wasn't nearly as easy as he'd hoped. As he thanked her again and let himself out, he found himself fighting the need to turn back and ask her out to dinner. If she'd given him the slightest encouragement, he would have been in trouble. She didn't.

H
e wouldn't call her again.

Lying in her lonely bed that night, Rebecca stared at the ceiling in the dark and faced the fact that Austin would, in all likelihood, never call her again. She'd told him everything she could about the family and done all that she could to help him. There was little reason for him to contact her again.

She should have been relieved. By his very presence, he stirred feelings in her that had no chance of ever developing into anything but hurt and frustration, and she knew she should have been thankful to see the last of him. Instead, she'd never felt lonelier in her life.

Why, she wondered, couldn't she be like other women? Why couldn't she have a husband and children? Why couldn't she know what it was like to have a man turn to her in the middle of the night and reach for her? Make love to her?

Because you can't bear to have a man touch you,
a voice in her head said flatly.
Until you find a way to come to grips with that, you'll never have anyone.

Slow tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. She'd tried, she thought, swallowing a sob. When she'd first come to live with Joe and Meredith, she'd been shy and afraid and had just wanted to hide away from the world and be left alone. She hadn't even been able to sit at the table with the family at mealtime and eat. With time and patience and the best therapists, however, she'd started to trust again, to let people back into her life…not only Meredith and Joe, but the children, then her extended foster family and friends. Amazingly, she'd even gotten past the fear of dating. But she still hit a brick wall whenever it came to intimacy.

She'd thought she'd accepted that, but for the first time in a long time, she wanted something she couldn't have. And it hurt. Turning over, she buried her face in her pillow and gave in to the sobs she could no longer hold back.

When she woke the next morning with a thick head and swollen eyes, she would have liked nothing better than to call in sick. But she knew she'd only brood if she stayed at home, and at work, at least, her students would keep her too busy to think of anything but them. With a groan, she rolled out of bed.

From there, everything seemed to go wrong. She couldn't find the belt that went with her dress, the new shoes she wore hurt her feet, she misplaced her keys, and to make matters worse, she had to stop on the way to work and fill up her car with gas. By the time she walked through the front door of Coker Elementary, she was late, and Richard Foster, her boss, was waiting for her in the hallway outside the principal's office.

“You're late.”

Taken aback by the harshness of his tone—after all, she was only
five
minutes tardy and school wouldn't start for another twenty minutes—she said breathlessly, “I know. I'm sorry. Nothing seemed to go right this morning.”

“You're supposed to set an example for the students,” he retorted, his blue eyes diamond-hard behind the lenses of his glasses. “If you can't be disciplined enough to be on time, how can you expect them to be?”

Technically, he had a point, and if they'd been running a boot camp, Rebecca might have agreed with him. But it was an elementary school, for heaven's sakes, and most of the students were only just now beginning to show up for school. He wasn't usually a clock watcher as long as his teachers were in their classrooms at least fifteen minutes before the first bell rang, and she still had five minutes to spare.

Surprised that he would nitpick over such a minor thing, she frowned. Something had to be wrong—this wasn't like him. Then, before she could open her mouth and put her foot in it by asking if everything was okay, she remembered that he and Sylvia, his wife, were filing for divorce later that afternoon. And she'd forgotten all about it. No wonder he was in a bear of a mood, she thought sympathetically. She was friends with both of them and hated to see their marriage break up. They were one of those couples who had seemed perfect for each other.

“I'll be more punctual next time,” she said quietly. “It won't happen again.”

She was trying to be understanding, but she might as well have saved her breath. He only nodded curtly, satisfied. “Good. See that it doesn't.”

And it was that, more than anything, that hurt. She knew he was going through a rough time, but she hadn't
done anything to him. Dismissed, her cheeks stinging, she hurried to her classroom without a backward glance.

From there, the rest of the day went downhill. She didn't know if the moon was out of alignment or if her students had been possessed by aliens from outer space, but each class was more disruptive than the last. By the time lunch rolled around, Rebecca was exhausted.

She told herself things couldn't get much worse. She was wrong. At the beginning of her first class after lunch, she'd hardly turned to write the homework assignment on the blackboard when Tabitha Long let out a bloodcurdling scream that Rebecca was sure could be heard halfway down the hall. “Hughie's got a gun!”

Startled, her heart in her throat, Rebecca whirled just in time to see the redheaded troublemaker of the class teasingly brandishing something black at Tabitha. “Hughie Bishop, you bring that here right this minute!” she ordered sternly. “
Now,
Hughie!”

“Awh, Miss Powell, it's just a toy,” he grumbled, holding it up to show her that it was just a homemade slingshot carved in the shape of a gun. “I was just playing.”

Her frown fierce and disapproving, Rebecca didn't say a word. She just held out her hand.

His shoulders slumped in dejection, Hughie dragged his feet as he slowly made his way to the front of the classroom. “I wasn't going to hurt anybody,” he said, pouting as he dropped the slingshot into her hand. “She was making faces at me.”

Rebecca didn't doubt that Tabitha was guilty of instigating a scene—she had an irritating habit of sticking her tongue out at the other students—but that didn't excuse Hughie's behavior. He knew the rules: no weapons could be brought to school for any reason. “You can't threaten
someone just because you don't like what they're doing,” she lectured him. “Especially with a weapon. Yes,” she said quickly when he started to object, “this is a weapon and you leave me no choice but to report this to Mr. Foster after class. In the meantime, you and Tabitha will both move to the back of the room and spend the rest of the class writing a letter for your behavior.”

“But I didn't do anything!” Tabitha cried.

Not surprised that she would paint herself totally innocent, Rebecca merely arched a brow at her. “Didn't you? Think about it.”

Caught in the trap of her disapproving gaze, Tabitha knew better than to argue further. Hanging her head, she collected her books and moved to the back of the room. Hughie did the same, and with a sigh of relief, Rebecca placed the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk and returned her attention to the class and the homework assignment.

School policy required that any weapons brought to school be turned in to the principal's office, and she fully intended to do that. But there was a fire drill during the next class, and halfway through the last class of the day, one of the students got sick and Rebecca had to rush her to the nurse. By the time she returned to class, she barely had time to remind the students to do their homework before the dismissal bell rang.

Finally, the day was over! Harried and exhausted after too little sleep the previous night, Rebecca completely forgot about the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk. All she wanted to do was go for a nice long ride at the ranch on her favorite horse. Then she wouldn't have to think about anything. Grabbing her purse and briefcase, she hurried outside to her car.

 

Taking Rebecca's suggestion, Austin spent the morning and early afternoon talking to Joe's brother, Graham, and Emmett Fallon, his friend and old army buddy who had helped Joe set up his first oil well. They were both involved in Colton Enterprises and in a position to know who Joe had had business clashes with over the years. Unfortunately, the list was longer than Austin would have liked, and he couldn't take much comfort from the fact that Graham and Emmett had included people who had only minor conflicts with Joe. The shooter had tried to commit murder in front of 300 hundred witnesses. As far as Austin was concerned, that made him a loose cannon. Anyone with the slightest grudge against Joe had to be checked out.

Frustrated, trying to imagine who would have picked such a public forum to try to commit murder, Austin headed back to the ranch. He needed to get another look at the scene of the crime, but this time in private.

Armed with the key Joe had given him, he didn't bother to knock, but quietly let himself in and shut the front door behind him. Silence immediately engulfed him. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the place seemed deserted. Inez was there somewhere, no doubt, but Meredith was probably out shopping or playing the overprotective mom with the boys. If he was lucky, he had the entire house to himself. Pleased, he stepped through the formal, too-perfect living room and headed for the courtyard at the back of the house.

When he'd visited the ranch with his parents when he was a kid, the courtyard had always been everyone's favorite part of the house. It offered a spectacular view of the Pacific and was a gathering place for the family at the end of the day. It was also the perfect setting for a party.
From the patio, the guests could spill out onto the yard and have unlimited space to mingle…and hide in the dark, away from all the bright, decorative lights that had been strung near the house for the party.

Who, he wondered, had stood back from the lights and watched Joe, waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger? Trying to imagine the scene, Austin stepped through the French doors that opened onto the courtyard and didn't realize it was already occupied until it was too late. Standing with her back to him and unaware of his presence, Meredith was in the process of chewing out Inez.

“What do you mean you didn't take the dry cleaning to the cleaners?” she said sharply. “I need my red silk dress for the Smythes' dinner party tomorrow night!”

“Sorry, ma'am,” the housekeeper said. “It just slipped my mind.”

“You're not getting paid for it to slip your mind! Do you understand? If you can't do the job you were hired to do, I'm sure I can find someone else who can.”

Austin couldn't believe Meredith was being so harsh over such a minor case of forgetfulness. He'd always remembered her as a kind, easygoing woman who treated servants like family. When had she become so autocratic?

He didn't make a sound, but something must have alerted Meredith that she and Inez were no longer alone. Glancing over her shoulder suddenly, she immediately spied him standing in the doorway. “Austin! What a surprise!”

“I let myself in. Joe gave me a key, so I thought I'd check out the patio.”

For a second, he would have sworn that infuriated her. Something flashed in her brown eyes, something that came and went so fast he couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined it, but it left him chilled to the bone. Then she gave
him a mega-bright smile that was a little too forced to be sincere. “Good. I haven't slept a wink since that maniac tried to kill Joe. The sooner you catch him, the sooner we can all start sleeping at night.”

Her smile abruptly fading, she glanced coldly at Inez. “Get us some coffee and make sure it's fresh brewed.”

It wasn't until she turned back to Austin that she realized she'd made a mistake and nearly given herself away. The real Meredith would have never been so rude to the hired help. Oh, no, not her nicey-nice twin sister. She'd always been perfect, and Patsy had hated her for that.

Anger boiled in Patsy Portman like hot lava just at the thought of her sister, and it only enraged her more that she was going to have to watch herself with Austin, or he would start asking questions she couldn't answer. If he figured out that she wasn't really Meredith…

Paling at the thought, she stiffened. No, she
was
Meredith! She was! If she forgot sometimes, it was just because she couldn't turn around without running into someone asking questions they had no business asking. First the police, and now Austin. Damn them all, how long did they think she could keep up this act when they kept pressuring her? If someone ran her fingerprints through the police computers, her prison record was going to pop up like a piece of burnt toast.

Feeling like she was coming unraveled, she swallowed a giggle at the thought. No! She had to get control. She needed her pills. But she couldn't take them in front of Austin. Then he would know. Then everyone would know. She had to get it together. She was Meredith. Sweet, irritatingly pleasant Meredith.

Suppressing a shudder, she forced a tight smile and tried to repair the damage by saying sweetly, “Oh, and
Inez? Don't worry about the dry cleaning. I'll wear the black lace. Okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” she said softly. “I'll get your coffee.”

When the housekeeper scurried away, Patsy didn't need to see Austin's frown to know that she'd done little to redeem herself. For that alone, she wanted to scream at him. For as long as she could remember, she'd never measured up to Meredith. They may have looked just alike, but it was her twin who'd always known just how to act and what to say. Everything had come to
her,
dammit! Everything! While Meredith had played it up big in Washington parties as a senator's wife, then later socialized in her fancy house with the rich and beautiful in California, Patsy had been serving time in prison for murder. Then there was that awful time she spent at the St. James Clinic for the mentally ill. It wasn't fair!

In spite of what the doctors had said, she wasn't crazy. She wasn't, dammit! She'd just wanted the charmed existence her sister led. So when she'd seen a chance to get rid of her and take over her life nine years ago, she hadn't hesitated. And no one had been the wiser.