Tracey V. Bateman

Betrayal Of Trust


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side next to him, her ear cupped in the palm of her head as she rested on her elbow. Her eyes dulled with a rare solemnity as she stared at him with concern.

      “How come you changed your mind about being senator?”

      A lump gouged Matthew’s throat. “I just decided it was best.”

      “Why?”

      He caressed his daughter’s hair. “Some things are not up for discussion, Jamie. When you’re older, I’ll explain.”

      The little girl scowled, looking an awful lot like Ray. Way too much. Matthew’s pulse quickened. As if by instinct, Matthew reached forward and grabbed her into a fierce hug.

      “Dad!” The muffled voice held a squeak of mild panic. “You’re squishing me.”

      Reluctantly, Matt released her. “Jamie, I want you to listen to me. This is very important. Are you paying attention?”

      Wide brown eyes stared back at him, as Jamie nodded.

      “You have to be careful. Play close to the house and don’t go near the gate. Understand?”

      “Why?”

      “Because I said so.”

      She frowned, her freckled nose wrinkling in confusion. “But why do you say so? I always play by the gate.”

      “Can you just trust me on this one?”

      She hesitated, but gave another nod.

      “Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know really well. Even if you see me talking to the same person. Clear?”

      “Come on, Dad. What’s all the drama about?”

      Matthew smiled at his daughter. “There are some things I’m not ready to talk about.” Like the fact that your natural dad is out of prison and extorting money from me. And if I didn’t step down from the race, he could have used my position to exploit you. If Jamie were a few years older, he could have told her those things, but not at eight years old. For now, she needed to concentrate on playing soccer and watching the Cardinals and having a great summer vacation. “Now, are you clear on the new rules?”

      She shrugged. “I guess so. Can we go to breakfast now? Grams said we’re having blueberry pancakes.”

      Matthew’s favorite. He had a feeling he’d be getting a lot of his favorite dishes over the next few days. Mom’s way of consoling him. It was a wonder he didn’t weigh a ton.

      “Go tell Grams I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Matthew took a quick shower then headed down the hall toward the stairs. He paused at Casey’s door, tapped lightly, then opened it just far enough to see in. His little sister slept peacefully, her long lashes fanning baby-doll cheeks. She was still so innocent. His heart ached for what might have been. What sort of life might she have had if Ray had never come to work at the mansion as a gardener? A user and an abuser, he’d sweet-talked his way into Casey’s life. Her family hadn’t discovered the relationship until it was too late—Casey left home, moved in with Ray and lost her trust fund down the black hole of drug abuse. Ray’s addiction.

      Guilt squeezed Matt’s heart. And he thought the same self-condemning words that had repeated themselves over and over during the past eight and a half years.

      If only he had never hired the man who had wooed his sister then stolen her innocence.

      Chapter Three

      Raven 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?”