Beautiful Lies (18 page)

“Auntie,” Liana began, speaking louder than normal. “Do you remember that Matthew was supposed to fly to New York to be with Cullen this week?”

Mei's voice was barely audible. “I remember.”

“I put him on the airplane yesterday, just as I'd planned. The airplane arrived in Denver safely, but Matthew didn't make the connecting flight. Right now we're not sure where he might have gone.”

Cullen was surprised Liana hadn't eased into the truth a
bit. “Nothing's happened to make us think he's in trouble, Mei. It's only that we can't seem to find out where he is.”

Mei was silent, but her frail, knotted fingers kneaded the afghan.

“Matthew knows how to take care of himself. I think, wherever he is, he's perfectly safe. But we're searching for him, because he's too young to take off on his own this way,” he said.

Mei still didn't answer.

“Auntie, do you know what we're saying?” Liana asked gently.

“He is a boy with much purpose,” Mei said at last. “Matthew will do whatever he thinks he must.”

Cullen couldn't have been less enlightened if Mei had printed her sentences in Chinese characters. “Can you tell us what you mean?” He leaned forward in order to hear her better. Each word she spoke was quieter than the one before.

“You cannot understand because you do not know all you should.”

Liana exchanged glances with Cullen. He could see she was as mystified as he was. “What doesn't Cullen know?” she asked. “Is there something you should tell him?”

“Liana, you do not understand, as well. Your father never told you the truth. It did not suit him.”

Cullen watched the curtain of Liana's hair swing across her cheek, hiding her expression, but he knew it would be puzzled and, perhaps, impatient. “Is there something you can tell us both?” he prodded.

“I have lived this long only to tell you. Do you think I am afraid to die?”

Cullen straightened and caught Liana's eye. She shrugged. He knew that she, too, was wondering about her aunt's state of mind.

Mei raised her chin and looked straight at Cullen. “Your father…he has told you of the way your family lost the Pearl of Great Price?”

“Mei,” he addressed her respectfully, “how can that matter now?”

“Until you understand, you will not find your son.”

Cullen could only humor her. “I know my great-grandfather Archer Llewellyn murdered your father, Tom Robeson, so that the Pearl of Great Price would belong to him.”

“That much is true.”

Although at one time in his life Cullen had tried to learn exactly what happened next, he had never been completely successful. And his own father had never seemed to know or care.

He told her the story he and Liana had put together years ago. “What was left of your family came here, and eventually your twin Thomas, Liana's father, paid a man to go to Australia and get the pearl from Archer. Somehow he was successful, and the pearl has remained in Liana's family ever since.”

“This story is not true.”

“Liana?” He raised his hands in supplication.

“Auntie, this is what my father told me,” she admitted. “But please, what does this have to do with Matthew?”

“The child knows more than the parents.”

Cullen and Liana exchanged glances again, oddly united in their confusion.

“A child who understands more than those who care for him is a child who
must
act. Bad luck for all if he doesn't.”

Cullen shook his head. “Mei, please, if you know something, if Matthew told you he was running away, will you tell us? He's too young to be off on his own.”

“Out of respect, Matthew would never tell me.”

Cullen sat back, hope fading. He had begun to believe Mei had the answer to Matthew's disappearance, that his son had shared his plans. Now he suspected she was inventing explanations. “We're going to find him. You don't have to worry. But we felt you had to be told.”

“No, you are the ones who must be told.” Mei's eyelids drooped.

Liana rested her fingertips against her aunt's wrist. Cullen knew she was measuring Mei's pulse. Or searching for it.

“We'll go as soon as Betty comes back,” Liana told him softly. “She has to rest.”

Mei jerked, as if she were waking up, although Cullen doubted she had really fallen asleep. “You go, but come back tonight. I will tell you then.”

“Auntie, I don't know if we can come back.” Liana stroked her wrist. “We have to find Matthew.”

“You come back. Then you will know…where to begin searching.”

The door opened, and the attendant came back into the apartment. “How is she?”

“Tired,” Liana said. She stood and took Betty aside to tell her about Matthew. Cullen heard Betty's sharply in-drawn breath. Mei's eyes were closed; she was with Cullen and Liana in body, but not in any other way.

“How's she been the past several days?” Liana asked Betty. “She's upset about Matthew, but she's speaking in riddles. It's not like her.”

“I haven't seen any changes.” Betty eyed her patient with a frown. “She sleeps a lot, but she's alert when she's awake. Should I call her sons? Or the doctor?”

“She wants us to come back tonight.” Liana looked at Cullen, as if asking his advice.

He wanted to discount everything the old woman had said, to write it off as Mei's way of coping with her own fear. But he knew better than to shake off any lead.

“I think we should come,” he said. “Unless we're needed elsewhere.”

“Just watch her carefully,” Liana told Betty. “If she seems worse, call Sam. Otherwise, wait until we return. I'll decide then.”

“Where is the pearl?” Mei said, her voice stronger than it had been at any time during their conversation.

“Auntie?” Liana went back to kneel beside Mei's chair.

“The Pearl of Great Price.”

Liana hesitated, as if she preferred not to answer. Cullen wondered if that was because he was in the room. “You know I keep it locked away.”

“And it is locked away now?”

Liana hesitated again. “Of course.”

“Do you lie because you think I'm too old for the truth? Or because your husband is listening?”

Liana rose. “Auntie, you're very tired. We'll come back tonight.” She started toward the door, but Mei's words followed.

“We will exchange the truth, you and I. This is as it should be.” She closed her eyes again, but this time quite obviously to shut off the conversation.

Cullen followed Liana out into the narrow hallway, but when she tried to descend the stairs, he held her back. “What's going on? What does Mei know that I don't?”

“She's an old woman, Cullen, too old for this kind of stress. She's imagining things.”

“Don't flaming hand me that!”

She faced him. “I don't have to hand you anything. You
came on your own, and you can damned well leave the same way!”

“Has something happened to the Pearl of Great Price? Is there something you haven't told me?”

“The pearl is no concern of yours. It belongs to me.”

He stepped closer. “Has something happened to the pearl, Liana?”

She was silent for so long that he didn't think she was going to answer. Then she looked away. “The Pearl of Great Price is missing, too. I discovered it at the same moment you told me Matthew didn't arrive in New York.”

“The devil! And you were keeping this from me?”

Her eyes were defiant. “I've kept it from everybody, Cullen. Nobody knows but you and me and whoever stole it from the safe in my office. I thought it was better that way, and if Aunt Mei hadn't guessed the truth, I wouldn't have told you at all.”

“W
hat were you thinking, Lee?” Cullen shoved his hair off his forehead, a habit Liana remembered well. He had always done that when he was upset, so he had done it often. His moods had been reliably mercurial. He had been as impulsive with his emotions as with his money, frequently tossing both out into the universe to see what rewards they might bring.

But even she, Cullen's greatest critic, couldn't doubt his sincerity where Matthew was involved. Despite the things she had said since his arrival, Liana knew Cullen loved his son.

“I've never received a single lesson on how to act if my son is kidnapped.” She glanced at the front of the limo to be certain their driver wasn't listening to their conversation through the barrier that separated them.

She lowered her voice. “I'm flying blind here. The pearl's gone. My son's gone. What was I supposed to think? Somebody stole that pearl from my safe, and somebody may very well have stolen our son. Exactly who am I supposed to trust?”

“Including me, of course. Don't you think I know what's going on inside your head? That pearl might as well be a tennis ball, the way it's bounced back and forth between our families.”

“It doesn't bounce, Cullen. People steal it. And people have died for it.”

“Yes, and I'd rather our son not be one of them!”

Liana fell silent. Matthew was Cullen's son, and the pearl's disappearance might well have something to do with him. No matter what fears she harbored, she realized he had a right to this information.

Finally he spoke again. “Do you have any theories who might have taken it? Does someone else have the combination?”

“No one but me.”

“It's not your birth date or anything easy to figure out?”

“It's the same as in Thomas's day. And Thomas wasn't a sentimental man. The numbers are simply random.”

“I suppose that has to mean someone broke into the safe.”

“I'm not a detective, but there was no obvious sign of forced entry.” Liana realized they were almost to her apartment. “Nothing else is missing—at least, not that I've heard about.”

“Is anything else kept in the safe?”

“No. My office belonged to my father. He had the safe installed before he married my mother. It was state-of-the-art for that time. He took it into his head that the pearl couldn't be protected anywhere else.”

“Or maybe he wanted to be reminded of the havoc it's wrought.”

“It's a pearl. It can hardly be blamed for the acts surrounding it.”

“And it disappeared right along with our son.”

“Maybe not. I discovered it was missing almost at the instant you told me about Matthew. But I don't know how long it's been gone. I never remove it from the safe unless we need to show it off for some reason.” She didn't add that she didn't like to touch or look at the pearl, or that its presence in the room made her uneasy.

“When did you last see it?”

“As near as I can remember, about two months ago.”

The driver stopped and came around to open the door. Liana waited until she and Cullen were alone in the elevator before she spoke again. “Stanford doesn't know. I meant it when I said you were the only person I've told. I didn't even tell my cousin Frank Fong, though he's probably my closest friend.”

“Mei knows.”

She had to admit that was probably true.

“Are you going to tell Stanford now?” he asked.

The elevator stopped. She got out, but she stayed just in front of it and spoke softly. “No. If he alerts his men, someone might tell Graham.”

“Can Stanford help find Matthew if he doesn't know everything?”

“If he knows about the pearl, will he divide his energy and his resources? Which will matter most?”

Cullen stared at her as if he couldn't believe she had asked, but she shook her head, trying to think how best to explain—without explaining everything. “Eventually the pearl will belong to me, but for a few more years it's still the property of Pacific International. That's the way my father's will was set up. Think, Cullen. Could we trust Graham to ignore it until Matthew's found? Can you imagine what it's worth?”

His silence was all the answer she needed. “Then do we
agree we shouldn't mention the Pearl of Great Price to Stanford? At least not yet?”

“Not until we can come up with a connection.”

“Until or unless.”

“Your aunt thinks there's one.”

“My aunt is upset and confused.”

“I intend to go back there tonight.”

Liana knew she would go, too, out of respect for Mei and all she had meant in Liana's life.

She started toward the apartment door, but Cullen stopped her. “Lee, did Matthew have access to the Pearl of Great Price? Could he have nipped it, then sold it to pay for running away?”

She was appalled. “Matthew would
never
do something like that. He knows what the pearl means to our family.”

He spaced his words for emphasis. “Did he have access?”

She tried to think. “Matthew knows about the safe, but he doesn't have the combination, and I've never written it down.”

“Never?”

“I'd be a fool to put it in writing, wouldn't I?”

“Has he been in the room when you've opened the safe?”

“I don't think so.”

“Has he been in the room alone?”

“Plenty of times. He works on his homework there while he's waiting for me to get out of meetings. But he doesn't know the combination.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “It's six numbers, Cullen. It would take a millennium to figure it out.”

“Is the room under surveillance?”

“No, I don't want to be watched. But there's a complicated alarm system on my office door. Anyone trying to get into the safe would have to disarm that first. And Stanford has security patrolling the building around the clock.”

“Maybe that's another good reason not to tell him about the pearl just yet. He's the best candidate for bypassing those measures.”

Liana liked Stanford, but right now she had to suspect everyone. “I don't see how Matthew could have taken the pearl, or why.”

“If he's run off, he'll need money. Does he have a bank account?”

“Yes. And a bank card.”

“Has anyone checked his account?”

“I gave Stanford the number this morning.”

“Let's see if he discovered anything while we were gone.”

She no longer loved this man. And trust and respect had disappeared long before love. But in the last few minutes, she and Cullen had worked together without animosity. Reluctantly, she realized she felt better because of that. She was not alone. For the first time in years, someone who cared as much about Matthew as she did could help her make decisions.

How frightening that after everything she had suffered at his hands, Cullen Llewellyn remained important in her life.

 

Cullen was a dinkum judge of character. And he bloody well ought to be, considering that he had been raised among characters—and now worked among some of the world's most colorful in Western Australia. Years ago he had learned to assess a man within seconds. It was a skill a gambler required, particularly if winning was all-important.

Winning had never been Cullen's primary joy. The moment a two-up coin twirled and glistened in the air, the moment a racehorse broke away and streaked toward the finish line, those had been the shining moments of Cullen's life.
He had been addicted to possibilities, to the thrill of maybes. Winning had been almost incidental.

But this time, winning was everything.

Cullen watched Stanford as he subtly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and he wondered what was bothering the man. Stanford was uneasy, and although he was deferential to Liana, his full attention was not on their conversation.

“No telephone calls,” Stanford told her. “And nothing new from either airport. I have men making a slow sweep in both places, showing Matthew's photograph, talking to personnel. But so far, nothing.”

“Nothing? Or nothing you want to talk about?” Cullen moved closer to include himself in the conversation.

Stanford hesitated just a fraction too long. “What do you mean?”

Cullen glanced at Liana. Today she had dressed in black, as if she were already mourning Matthew. She had always favored austerity, a look that suited her high cheekbones and cleanly sculpted features. But in the earliest days of their love affair, she had brightened her choices with beautiful fabrics or the occasional stunning piece of jewelry she had designed herself. Today the unrelieved black was merely a backdrop for her tortured face. With her hair swept back in a knot at her nape and not even a touch of makeup, the anguish in her eyes stood out in sharp relief.

“Stanford, you seem uncomfortable,” Liana said.

Cullen had to give her credit. Like all artists she had always been attuned to nuances. And even in turmoil, her instincts were still sharp.

Stanford's shoulders slumped just enough to make Liana's point. “I don't have anything concrete to tell you.”

“We'll settle for theoretical,” Liana said.

“Well, we ran a check on Matthew's bank account this morning.”

“And?”

“It's intact. Just one withdrawal in the past weeks. About fifty dollars three weeks ago. He still has over six hundred dollars.”

“He bought you a present.” Liana turned to Cullen. “A compass in a leather case. He thought you could use it on the camping trip.”

“Have you looked in his room to see if it's still there?”

“No.” She looked stricken. “Cullen, I should have. If it's here…”

He finished for her. “He had no intention of meeting me.”

“I did a thorough search of the room, and I didn't see anything like that.” Stanford shifted his weight again. “But a compass might be tempting to take along if he was running away. The thing is, before he left, he didn't touch the rest of the money in his account. We have a promise from the bank that they'll notify us if anyone tries to access it, but for the time being, we have nothing to go on.”

“Did he have access to other accounts?” Cullen asked Liana.

“No, but he gets a healthy allowance. I wanted him to learn to manage money. He could have been saving it here at home.”

Cullen could almost hear the way she was silently questioning her decision to give a child such financial independence. “Matthew's always been careful with his cash,” he reassured her. “Now I know why.”

For a moment she looked grateful, then he watched her question herself again. “I've given him my credit cards, just if he needed something big, but not recently. Not in months. I don't like the idea of him getting used to credit.”

“Will you please check them and be sure you have them all?” Stanford asked. “And do a quick inventory of your checks.”

Cullen saw she wanted to deny the possibility that her son might have stolen from her, but she nodded tersely. “I'll do it now.” She marched down the hall toward her room.

“She's a strong woman. She's holding up,” Stanford said. “But I know how hard this has to be.”

“What else did you find out?”

Stanford looked after Liana. “I'm running a check on you. But I suppose you guessed as much.”

“No worries. My life's an open book.”

“You had a serious problem with gambling?”

“Still do.”

Stanford looked surprised. “Oh? So far the reports say you've cleaned up your act.”

“Do they? That's gratifying, but I'm recovering, not recovered. The day I forget the difference is the day I'll lose my shirt again.”

“Twelve steps?”

Cullen twisted his mouth into a humorless grin. “Too right. Although most of the time it feels like a thousand.”

“When was the last time you indulged?”

“What, in Gamblers Anonymous or the horses?”

“The horses were your game?”

“At my peak I'd bet on two blokes at a urinal.”

“How long ago was the peak?”

Cullen steeled himself. “I'd say it was the day I gambled away my son's trust fund, wouldn't you?”

Stanford gave a low whistle. “I haven't come across that bit of information yet.”

“Liana made certain no one ever would. A long-standing habit of covering up my failures.”

“And since then?”

“Since then it's been one day at a time. I finally lost count last year. Another milestone.” Cullen's gaze was steady, but he saw something in the other man's eyes that wasn't. “Look, you've skated over this a time or two. What's bothering you? What else did you discover today?”

Stanford didn't answer for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I told you we'd checked with the bank. Well, somebody else checked first. It looks like somebody else might be trying to find your son, Mr. Llewellyn. And not necessarily because he or she wants to be a hero.”

 

Liana managed a nap in the afternoon, one filled with nightmares of Matthew bound and gagged in a car trunk. Even fretful sleep was better than nothing, and she awoke after an hour feeling slightly more rested. She dressed and went on a search. Stanford was gone, but she found Cullen in the living room, staring at the portrait of Matthew.

She watched him from the doorway. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't know she was there. The unadulterated longing on his face was evidence of that.

She had first been attracted to Cullen Llewellyn by his voice, then by the absence of pathos in his face. He wasn't a handsome man, but he was an immensely appealing one. And when a grin softened the square jut of his jaw, and broke up the lines that the unrelenting outback sun had engraved around his eyes, he was nothing short of magnetic.

She had been drawn to that grin, to the warmth in his blue eyes, to the way he used his body. He was comfortable with himself in a way that had seemed new to her. She'd been seeking security, and she had been sure Cullen had already found it.