Betrayal (25 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Betrayal
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He reached for her hand across the small orange tabletop. “Kate, I'm sorry. I know all of this comes as a big shock to you. It's been over seven years now. You've gone on with your life?”
If he only knew.
She shook her head. “I suppose you could say I'm stuck in a time warp. I haven't accomplished much of anything since Alex's murder. I moved around, took a government job, then I decided a change was in order. I came to Naples.”
“I would've thought this place would hold too many bad memories for you.”
“I guess it does. Maybe that's why I'm here. To put an end to the bad memories, the bad times. Maybe I can start a new life.”
“You say this as though you haven't exactly made the decision to move on, Kate. Tell me the real reason you moved here.”
Kate looked at Coleman, really looked at him. He was a very attractive man. Why hadn't she noticed that before? Dark hair, graying at the temples. A deep tan. Eyes as green as grass. Coleman Fitzpatrick was truly a handsome man. She wondered if he'd ever remarried. She looked at his hand for a ring. Nothing.
He saw her.
“I've never remarried. What about you?”
“You read my mind. I was wondering the same about you. No, I haven't even dated since Alex's death. I . . . I was very focused on my work. There was so much learning required, I didn't really have time to think about dating.” It was true, but she couldn't tell Coleman what she'd spent all that time learning.
“Let's do this. I'll make something for dinner at my place tonight. You can come, enjoy a quiet evening with an old friend, and I can give you Alex's envelope.”
“Yes, I should do that, I suppose.”
Coleman raised his brow. “If it's going to cause you any hardship, I can bring it to wherever you're living.”
“No, I'll have dinner with you.” She took a deep breath. She didn't want Coleman in her apartment. If he saw the command center she'd set up in the spare room, he would know she was up to something, and she felt like he already suspected she was doing more than coming to Naples to banish old memories. “Just give me your address, and I'll find you.”
Coleman gave her the address and told her what time to arrive. Kate felt a tad excited as she drove back to her apartment. She had a date. Sort of. Well, not really. An evening with an old friend. She would enjoy her time with Coleman. He hadn't said where he was retiring to, but Kate knew it wouldn't be in the state of Florida.
 
 
Before leaving for dinner, Kate booted up her computers. She checked all of her work to see if anything had changed. Nothing. She checked the credit reporting agencies, even though she knew it would take a few weeks for them to list all the discrepancies in Debbie's credit history. She hit a few keys and discovered the mortgage company had already issued a certified letter of foreclosure. That was quick, but Kate figured with all the technology available in today's world, there really wasn't any reason to delay the process.
She took her time getting ready. Now she wished she had something other than the jeans, khakis, and black capris to wear. Deciding on the khakis for coolness and comfort, she wore her usual white T-shirt. She spent little time with her hair and makeup since she wasn't trying to hide from Coleman. She didn't even bother blow-drying the curls from her hair. She looked in the mirror. Her face was recognizable without the contacts and all the war paint.
Following the directions Coleman had given her, she was surprised to discover he only lived fifteen minutes away. A gated community, but older. There were no guards waiting at the entrance, just an electronic gate with a button to allow the gates to open and close. Not very secure, but as Kate traveled through the winding roads, she saw that most of the homes were very grand. They probably had killer security systems.
At the end of Willow Lake Drive, Kate saw Coleman's SUV parked in the drive. She'd wanted to bring something to contribute to the meal, but he had insisted on cooking for her himself. Said he enjoyed puttering in the kitchen now and then. She'd stopped at Publix and purchased a bouquet of flowers. She couldn't arrive empty-handed. The envelope was uppermost on her mind as she rang the doorbell. Should she insist Coleman allow her a few minutes alone with the contents before dinner, or should she wait until she could be alone? She didn't know and would play it by ear.
The door opened. Coleman wore khaki shorts with a yellow polo shirt. Wisps of dark, wet hair curled around his face. “I just got out of the shower. I hope you haven't been here long.”
That explained his hair. “No, I just got here.” Kate walked into the foyer. Marble floors, Tiffany chandeliers. Nice, but not too stuffy. “This is a beautiful home. I had no idea you lived in such splendor.”
“Yes, it is nice. Too big for me, though.”
Coleman was looking at the flowers she had hanging at her side.
“Oh, these are for you. Us. Dinner.”
“Thanks, I think there's a vase in the kitchen. Now, if you will follow me.” Coleman turned on his heel, and she followed him to a huge kitchen.
Viking range, Sub-Zero refrigerator. “Nice,” Kate said. “Did your wife spend much time in the kitchen?”
“Actually, she didn't cook at all. Said it was a waste of time.”
Kate laughed. She looked all around the kitchen. “This is a chef's delight, Coleman. Too bad it isn't used as it was intended.”
Coleman rifled through several cupboards before he found a vase. He filled it with water and placed the flowers inside. “What gave you the idea it's not being used?”
“I don't know.” Kate laughed again.
“Actually, I'm somewhat of a chef. I lied. I do a little more than putter in the kitchen. I create!”
“Well, I am truly surprised.”
“I don't tell everyone I meet that I'm as at home in the kitchen as I am in front of a judge. Wouldn't want to ruin my image.”
“And just what kind of image would you be ruining if your secret were discovered?” Kate inquired.
“Oh, you know, the macho man thing. Me Tarzan, you Jane.”
She laughed. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. Suzanne was a lucky woman.”
A look of sadness swept across his face. “And I was a lucky man. She was a great wife even though she hated to cook.”
“Then we have something in common other than tragedy.”
“Yes, we do. I knew you were very involved with a restaurant at one time. Alex told me you taught cooking classes. I hope you won't be grading tonight's meal.” He winked at her while he rinsed his hands.
Kate was enjoying the light conversation. It had been way too long since she'd shared such an exchange with anyone. She really missed life.
Coleman watched her. “Why the look of gloom and doom? Surely you don't think my cooking is that bad without having tried it yet.”
She shook her head. “I was thinking that it's been a long time since I spent an evening with a friend, that's all.” She offered him a watery smile.
“You didn't go out much in Orlando?”
“There wasn't time. All the classes I had to take.” Kate felt a half-truth was better than nothing. She really didn't want to explain the past five years of her life. “Why don't you give me the envelope. I'll look through it while you ‘create' unless you need my assistance.”
Coleman dried his hands on a tea towel. “Of course. I should have given it to you when you arrived. I'll go get it from the den.”
He returned to the kitchen with a standard manila envelope. Kate sat at the island in the center of the kitchen. “I'm almost afraid to open it.”
“Well, I wouldn't be, it's from Alex. He was very serious the day he gave it to me.” Coleman returned to his work at the sink.
“Could you tell me about that day before I open this? I know it sounds silly, but if you could.”
“It's not silly at all, Kate. Of course I can tell you. But first, let me check my creation in the oven, then we can talk over a glass of wine.” Coleman peered inside the oven and smiled. “Delightful. Now the wine.”
He had a built-in minicooler beneath the counters. He removed a bottle, took a corkscrew from a drawer and glasses from an overhead rack.
Kate followed Coleman outside to the pool area. A huge rectangular pool dominated the entire space. There was a rock waterfall at the end of the pool and lots of flowery plants. The patio furniture was dark green and gold, blending into the wild growth of greenery that wound its way on both sides of the pool screen.
“This is nice, Coleman, I bet you stay out here most of the time.”
He opened the wine, poured them each a glass. “I do, but I prefer the real outside. This is a great place to relax, though. You want to go for a swim after dinner?”
“No, I'm afraid I don't have anything to wear. Does that sound like a typical silly girl or what? No, really, I didn't bring a suit.”
“I guess we're too old to even consider skinny-dipping,” he teased.
Kate blushed, something she hadn't done since college. She was glad for the twilight. “I have never skinny-dipped in my life, Coleman!”
“Then you don't know what you're missing. So, we'll see how the evening goes.”
Kate looked at him with eyes as round as saucers. “I don't think so.”
He burst out laughing. “I'm kidding. Loosen up, Kate, I'm just having fun.”
Then he doesn't want to go skinny-dipping?
“Oh, I know. I was just . . . Never mind. Why don't I look at that envelope and put the mystery to rest.”
“I thought you wanted to hear about the day he gave it to me.”
“Yes, of course, please tell me.” She took a sip of her wine. Nice.
“It was the day after I had told him about the conviction being overturned and the new trial he would get. He stressed to me over and over that I was not to reveal the contents of the envelope to you unless he died. Said he'd made a promise about something many years ago, and he wanted to keep it. Alex was a man of his word, I know that. We spoke about the case, the reasons he thought Sara might have made the accusation. He asked me several more times if I would swear to do as he instructed. I assured him I was a man of honor. Sounds silly, I know. I remember using that phrase, too. Alex liked that I did. I could tell.
“He told me a bit about his first marriage and when his wife died. He'd done his grieving, but there seemed to be something he kept holding back. Maybe that will be explained when you read what's inside.” He drank the rest of his wine, pouring another glass for both of them.
Kate thought about Coleman's last conversation with Alex. A few things puzzled her. She had no idea why he would have brought up Anna, Alex's first wife, who had died from leukemia. Alex never talked about that period in his life. He was young when he married. By the time he'd realized it was a mistake, Anna was diagnosed with the fatal disease. He'd told Kate he wasn't the kind of man who could walk away and leave her, knowing she didn't have long to live. She'd respected him for his decision, but now wondered if there was something more to that period of Alex's life than she'd been told.
“This is personal, Kate. I'm going to leave you alone for a bit. I've got a salad to prepare and a tasty dressing to go along with it. While I'm working in the kitchen, why don't you look over the contents?”
“If you're sure you can't use me in the kitchen, I'd appreciate the time alone.”
“I'll be just fine. Now go on and open that damned thing,” he joked as he went inside.
Left alone with Alex's letter—and Kate was sure that was what the envelope held—she was almost afraid to open it. She was nearing the end of her involvement with the life she and Alex had led. After his death she'd made a promise to herself—Alex's death would not be in vain. She would do whatever it took to clear his name and make the Winter family pay for his death and the anguish they'd caused.
Utilizing the legal system hadn't really been an option. She knew there was no chance to win in a courtroom. What charges could she bring against the Winters since Alex was dead? Defamation of character, at best, but that wasn't what she wanted. She needed to dispense justice herself, directly, to those who had caused Alex to die.
Sara Marie Winter and her mother.
Kate opened the gold-colored clasp on the envelope. Inside were several sheets of a yellow legal tablet folded in half. She remembered that this was the kind of paper the inmates wrote their letters on. She had dozens of Alex's. Removing the papers, Kate saw that her hands were trembling. She suddenly wasn't sure that she wanted to read the contents of Alex's letter. After all the nights she had cried and prayed for just one more word from her beloved Alex, she finally had her wish. That old phrase, “Be careful what you wish for,” came to mind. Alex was getting the last word. The question was: Did she really want to hear it?

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