Dangerous Sanctuary Page 17

  “Is that when you broke up with him?” Honor asked.

  “Stupidly, I stayed with him for another couple of months. I found out I was pregnant, and I went over to his condo one night to break the news. We had a nice dinner, and I told him I was having a baby. He didn’t seem as upset as I thought he’d be. I was hoping everything was going to work out. But he had to take a phone call, and I walked into his bedroom and saw some papers sitting on his desk. I wasn’t trying to see what they were, but the name on the top caught my eye, so I looked. Honor, he’d had papers drawn up to sell your grandmother’s property. I’m not sure if he planned to forge her signature or to trick her into signing them.”

  “What?” Honor jumped to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He came into the room and saw me with them, and he told me that he wanted to make a good life for me and the baby, and that selling your grandmother’s farm would give us a fresh start in a new place. He said that a developer wanted the land and was willing to pay ten million dollars for it.”

  “That is a lot of money,” Honor said, her face leached of color, the story obviously impacting her more than she wanted to show.

  “It is, and he said that it would help you and Dotty, too. But I know Dotty, and I know she wouldn’t sell for any amount of money. I told him that, and he lost it. He started screaming about how it was his farm, and that his mother planned to hand it off to you, and that the only way he would ever get what he was due was to force Dotty to sell. He said the settlement date was a month away, and if I messed it up, he’d take everyone he loved from me. You. My parents. The baby.”

  “Honey,” Honor said, reaching for her hand again. “You had to know I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “I would have come to you, Honor, but I was at work the next day, and he sent me an email. It was a picture of my parents sleeping, and a note that said he knew plenty of men who could do his dirty work for me. He included the contact information for Sunrise Spiritual Sanctuary, and he told me that I’d better disappear until the real estate deal was done, or my mother would be the first to die.”

  “We checked your phone records,” Radley reminded her. “There’s no record of those texts or calls.”

  “Because Bennett insisted we use disposable phones. If you don’t believe me, you can check the room I was staying in at the training center. I left my phone on the top shelf of the closet there. I was tired of the games, and I just wanted it to be over.”

  “I believe you,” Honor said quietly, her fingers tapping on the tabletop. “Did you give Bennett my room number?”

  “Not intentionally. He showed up at the training center and told me you’d been hospitalized. He said I should call and make sure you were okay, so I did. He was standing next to me when I wrote down your room number.”

  “And he passed it along to Absalom.” Radley turned to the door and wasn’t surprised to find Wren and Henry standing there.

  “You’re not going maverick on us, Radley,” Wren said. “This guy is dangerous, and he’s cunning. From what I’ve heard, he decided that the best way to make certain his deal went off without a hitch was to get Honor out of the way.”

  “He knew I’d protest a sale. He could probably forge papers giving himself power of attorney, but he would never have convinced me that Dotty had agreed to sell. I’d have fought it, and he’d have been caught,” Honor said, still sitting at the table, still tapping her fingers against the wood. “I should have figured this out before now. I think I recognized his voice when he pushed me in the well. I guess my mind just didn’t want to accept it.”

  “It’s hard to think someone we love would harm us,” Wren said.

  “This is my fault,” Mary Alice cut in. “I should never have gone out to dinner with him. You used to tell me what a womanizer he was. You used to say that the number of women he wined and dined made you sick.”

  “He’s a charming manipulator, and he used you,” Honor responded. “He is totally and wholly responsible for what he’s done, and I’m going to make sure he pays for it.”

  She was up like a shot, racing past Radley, darting out the door. Running for the exit. Radley knew exactly where she planned to go. Bennett’s place.

  He ran after her, because as much as he wanted justice done, he couldn’t let her be the one to mete it out.

  THIRTEEN

  Meeting her uncle at the farm was the last thing Honor had planned to do.

  Then again, she hadn’t had a plan when she’d raced from the field office and tried to hail a cab.

  Radley had stopped her, pulling her away from the curb, his grip gentle but unyielding. He must have known how enraged she was, how far beyond reason she’d been pushed.

  She’d never seen red before, but she was seeing it then, everything cast in the hazy crimson glow of her rage.

  Bennett had used Mary Alice, gotten her pregnant, threatened her. He’d been plotting to steal Dotty’s farm, take the money from the sale and leave town. Maybe leave the country.

  And he’d been trying to kill Honor.

  That, oddly, hadn’t been the hot-button issue.

  It had been what he’d done to Mary Alice—turning a woman of high moral standards into someone who was scared, ashamed and guilt-ridden—that had made her want to do him bodily harm.

  But Radley had stopped her.

  They’d gone back to the interview room. They’d finished taking Mary Alice’s statement, they’d dug around in Bennett’s previous criminal cases and discovered that he’d gotten Absalom off on serious drug charges four years ago, and that he’d done it pro bono.

  That was the connection they’d been looking for, and they had a decent case against her uncle.

  A confession would be better.

  A confession would assure that he went jail and never again saw the light of day.

  Honor knew it.

  When Wren had mentioned that the evidence was circumstantial, Honor had volunteered to try to get what they needed.

  Radley had been dead set against it. He’d wanted to arrest Bennett immediately, but Wren had pointed out that an attorney of his caliber and connections would be out on bail before the sun set, and probably out of the country before it rose again.

  Until Bennett was in jail, Mary Alice wouldn’t be safe.

  Dotty wouldn’t be safe.

  And the baby—that tiny little innocent life that was so unexpected, so surprising—it wouldn’t be safe either.

  Because, Bennett had no conscience, and someone like that would do anything to keep his secrets.

  Even murder his own child.

  Honor had explained that to Radley. She’d told him that she wouldn’t sleep until she could rest in the knowledge that her uncle was locked away for good.

  Instead of arguing, he’d touched her face, let his palm rest against her cheek. He’d looked into her eyes, and he’d told her that he understood, he stood behind her, he’d do whatever he could to help.

  And, right then and there, she’d fallen just a little harder and a little deeper for him.

  Now she was sitting on the old porch swing, watching the sunset, waiting for her uncle to show up. No gun, because he’d notice that. She was wearing a wire, and FBI agents were stationed around the property, hidden from view, but waiting to move in if they were needed.

  She hoped they wouldn’t be needed.

  Now that her anger had faded, she didn’t want Bennett hurt. He was Dotty’s oldest son, and if something happened to him, she’d be heartbroken.

  What Honor wanted was for Bennett to be arrested, to face a jury of his peers and be found guilty of attempted murder. She wanted him to spend the rest of his life in jail, far away from the people he’d tried to hurt.

  She’d called him a few hours ago, told him that she’d spoken to Mary Alice, that she knew about the sale of the farm, a
nd that she wanted to discuss it with him. In the story she’d told, she was strapped for cash, tired of commuting back and forth on the weekends, sick of the dirt and the hay and the endless acres of crops. If he was going to sell the farm, she wanted in on the deal. They could use part of the proceeds to find a good home for Dotty, and the rest they’d split.

  The lies hadn’t come easily. Fortunately, he hadn’t been able to see her face. She was certain her expression would have given her away. As it was, by the end of the conversation, he’d agreed to meet with her, and he’d promised to bring the contract and sale agreement.

  With Dotty and Mary Alice safe in her apartment in Boston, Honor had no concern that they’d be harmed. All she had to do was keep her cool, get a confession and step back as the arrest was made.

  Easy-peasy, as Dotty liked to say.

  Only Bennett was supposed to arrive at five-thirty and he still hadn’t shown by six. She didn’t dare speak into the microphone or try to contact any of the agents who were stationed around the property. Bennett wasn’t stupid. It was possible he’d parked his car far from the house and had walked onto the property.

  She waited another half hour, the sky darkening, the moon sliding above the trees. Stars glittered against the violet sky, and he still hadn’t shown. She’d wrapped herself in a shawl when she’d come out to the porch, but she needed a coat.

  She glanced at the driveway. Still no sign of Bennett’s car.

  Wren had warned her to stay on the porch where they could see her, but her teeth were chattering, and the coat closet was a foot from the front door. She wouldn’t even have to step inside.

  She stood, stretching a kink out of her back as she opened the front door.

  Bennett was there. A shadowy figure in the darkness, but she knew him.

  “Uncle Bennett!” she nearly screamed. “How did you get in here?”

  “I have a key, remember?” He grabbed her arm, yanked her inside and slammed the door.

  “But I didn’t see you drive up,” she hedged, her heart hammering so loudly she thought he might be able to hear it.

  “I parked on the highway at the back edge of the property and walked in.”

  “Why would you do something like that?”

  “Because I don’t trust you, Honor. Why else?”

  “I’m not the one who tried to commit murder,” she responded. “If anyone should be untrusting, it should be me.”

  “That’s exactly right, my dear. You shouldn’t trust me, and yet, you asked me out here. Why?”

  “I told you on the phone—”

  He shoved her up against the wall, his hand against her throat, the attack so sudden and unexpected that she had no time to protect herself.

  “You’re trying to set me up,” he growled, his grip so tight that she couldn’t breathe.

  She shook her head, frantically clawing at his fingers, trying to loosen his grip.

  “You are! Tell me where they’re hiding. Tell me what they know!” he screamed, his grip loosening just enough for her to breathe.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, the last word ending on a raspy cough.

  “Don’t lie to me, Honor. You’ve never been good at it. It’s a shame, because you’re mouthy enough to have made a good lawyer.” His hand dropped away, and he stepped back.

  She expected help to come running, but it didn’t. No frantic pounding of fist on the door. No glass shattering as agents breached the house.

  They knew what was happening.

  She had to assume they were giving her time to get what she’d come for.

  So, she had to get her head back in the game and try.

  “I’m better at it than you think, Uncle Bennett. Look at Dotty. I have her convinced I love coming out here to help with the farm.” She tried to shrug nonchalantly. She wasn’t sure how convincing it was. “She thinks I want to take over one day, but I’m just biding my time until she dies. I know she’s willed the place to me.”

  “How did you find out?” he asked, his eyes still hot with anger.

  “She told me. She even showed me the will.”

  “You could have made this easy on both of us and killed her,” he spat, still watching her closely. Still not believing her story.

  She knew that, but she didn’t know what answer he expected her to give, so she went with the truth. “I may be greedy, but I’m not a murderer. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to have any qualms.”

  “What are you accusing me of, Honor?” he said quietly, and she was reminded of a serpent’s hiss right before it struck.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m stating a fact. You’ve been trying to get me out of the way. You’re fortunate I’m as eager to get the money as you are, or I’d have turned you in to Wren the minute Mary Alice told me about the property sale.”

  He didn’t just hiss like a snake, he struck like one, his fist slamming into her side with so much force she felt a rib crack. Her eyes teared with pain, and she bent over, trying to catch her breath, to think of where to go from here.

  “Where are they?” he growled, dragging her head up by the ponytail, backhanding her so hard she tasted blood.

  “If my friends,” she managed to say with more strength than she felt, “were standing around waiting for information while you beat me up, I’d need a whole new group of friends.”

  He scowled, but released her hair, stepping back and pulling a sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket. “This,” he said, “is the contract. I need Dotty’s signature. The Realtor who wrote up the papers isn’t crooked, and he’s going to want verification that she’s willing to sell. The settlement day is the thirtieth, and he’s coming to the house.”

  “And you want me to convince her to sign away the house and the land?”

  “For ten million dollars, that old bat should be willing to sign away her life,” he replied.

  “She’s your mother,” she reminded him without thinking.

  “No. She’s not. She’s your father’s mother. I’m the product of an affair my father had at the beginning of their marriage. A little indiscretion. Neither of them ever told me, but I always wondered why I was so different from your father. Not just my looks. Everything. The way I thought and felt. What I wanted. We were diametrically opposed, the two of us. The good brother and the evil one, if you want.” He grinned.

  “If they didn’t tell you, you can’t be sure.”

  “Of course I can. Dotty keeps a record of everything. My adoption paperwork is in her file cabinet. I met my birth mother when I was eighteen. She was on her third marriage by then. Not that any of it matters. Except for this part. I am the oldest son, and this land belongs to me. Dotty is only leaving it to you because I’m not her biological son.”

  “Uncle Bennett! You know that’s not true! Dotty loves you.”

  “People love ice cream, Honor. They love sunrises and movies and good books. They love pretty days and pets and a million things that mean nothing. Love is a construct created by people so that they can feel good about their world. I turned my back on the idea a long time ago. What I want is freedom, and you know how a person gets that?”

  “Money?” she guessed, sidling away, trying to put some space between them. She wanted the confession, but she wanted to live, too. Unlike Bennett, she didn’t believe love was a human construct. It was a God-given emotion and a divine directive. She believed in it with every fiber of her being, and if he’d known anything about her, he’d have known that love would prevent her from ever betraying Dotty.

  He didn’t, though, and he still had the contract in hand, and was waving it toward her. “That’s right. Money. After taxes, I stand to clear enough money from the sale of this farm to live in luxury for the rest of my life.”

  “A million dollars isn’t as much as it used to be, Uncle Bennett, a
nd the rest of your life could be a very long time.”

  “Not here, Honor,” he laughed without humor. “Thailand or Mexico. Somewhere my dollar stretches.”

  “Your dollar should stretch far here if you were good with your money. Personally, I don’t understand how a lawyer who charges as much as you do can be so desperate for cash that he’d try to kill someone to pad his pockets.”

  He lunged at her, but this time she sidestepped, kicking his feet out from under him and watching dispassionately as he fell. At least, that was the look she was going for. She felt physically ill at the thought of his greed, of the evil that he hid behind his cold smiles and gracious manners.

  He came up with a gun in his hand, the barrel pointed at her heart. “If you do that again, niece, I will kill you without a qualm. I’ll make it look like a robbery gone wrong. I’ll comfort my poor grieving mother, and then I’ll put the pen in her hand and watch while she signs the farm away.”

  “If you thought you could get away with it, you’d have already killed me,” she said, walking down the hall and into the kitchen, her heart pounding frantically. There were more windows there. The back door. She had no idea where Radley was, where Wren had gone, what Henry or Jessica were doing, but she had to believe that they’d know when the time was right, and that they’d step in before it was too late.

  “You’re right. I know enough about the way things work to know how difficult it is to commit the perfect crime. That’s why I prefer that other people do my dirty work,” he said, following her into the kitchen. There was a knife block on the counter, a broom in the corner. She could see several items she could use as a weapon. None of them would be effective against a gun.

  “That’s why you did the work for Absalom pro bono, right? You figured you might be able to call in the favor one day.”

  “What do you know about that?” he said quietly, his tone chillingly still.

  “Just what I found out in my research. You see, Uncle, you’re not the only one who likes to control things. I’ve learned a lot from watching you, and I don’t believe in leaving things to chance,” she said, finally getting to the script she’d worked out with the team. The one that should lead him into the confession.