Dangerous Temptation (40 page)

"Well, I don't disbelieve her," murmured Caitlin obliquely. "Why would she lie?" She felt an unfamiliar feeling of panic stirring inside her. "Do you think it's possible? As far as I know, Nathan doesn't have a brother. He's always maintained he was an only child. Isn't that what he told you?"

Marshall gave her a curious look. "It's not something we'd ever discussed," he murmured drily. "But situations aren't always as cut and dried as they appear." He paused.

"I suppose it's not inconceivable. It would certainly explain a lot of things."

"Yes," said Caitlin unhappily, her nails digging into the ball of cotton in her hand. "She also said she believed Nathan was trying to double-cross her. I didn't know what she was talking about. Do you think Nathan has found someone else?"

"I don't know." Marshall was thoughtful now. "So where is Nathan? And why is this man denying his identity, when for the past three weeks he's let us think he was someone else?"

Caitlin shrugged. "Because he did believe he was Nathan," she said tremulously. "He must have. He couldn't have faked something like that. Dr Harper—that's the doctor who dealt with him in New York, when he was first admitted to the hospital—said he had a mild concussion. I don't believe he could have pretended not to know who he-was at such a time."

"All right." Marshall nodded. "So we'll accept that he had lost his memory. Why didn't he tell us it had come back?"

"I don't know." Caitlin drew an uneven breath. "It's like a nightmare."

But, after what had happened between them, perhaps she did.

Marshall shook his head. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" he suggested. "Exactly why did this woman come to see you? Did she say?"

"Well…" Caitlin considered her words before speaking. "I think she was angry with Nathan, and she thought I might know where he was. She said he—Jake, that is—had gone to see her because Nathan had sent him. But she didn't believe that. Like I said before, she accused Nathan of selling her out."

"Did she know about—about the amnesia?"

"No. Until this—other man told her, she hadn't realised what had happened at all. She just thought Nathan was avoiding her because the crash had screwed up their deal."

"What deal?"

"The deal he's supposed to have cheated her on. She didn't go into details. She did tell me that she and Nathan had been planning to go away together after he got back. I think she thought I'd be devastated at the news."

"And you weren't?"

"No." Caitlin bent her head. "If she'd known how long I'd wanted a divorce—" She broke off abruptly. "Well, she wouldn't have accused me of trying to get him back."

"So, go on," Marshall prompted. "Did she say how Nathan planned to finance their elopement?"

"No." Caitlin grimaced. "I assume he intended to ask his father to help him. He said he was going to see Mr Wolfe when he left."

"Nathan told you he was going to see his father?"

"Yes."

"So—do you know if he did?"

Caitlin gasped. "I know he didn't," she said in sudden confusion, remembering Jacob Wolfe's surprise when she'd told him his son was in the New York hospital. She lifted her shoulders. "But he must have been hoping to get some money from somewhere. I don't think Daddy paid him enough for him to have saved an enormous amount."

"He didn't," said Marshall flatly. "Not that that troubled your husband," he added reluctantly. "I think you ought to know, Kate, the reason your father employed me was because Nathan had been embezzling from the firm."

Caitlin's jaw dropped. "But—but why didn't Daddy tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell him you wanted a divorce?" countered Marshall with a wry face. "It looks like you've both contributed to Nathan's success in defrauding Webster's. But rest assured, it won't be happening again."

Caitlin gasped. "But—how? How could he do it?"

"In various ways." Now that Marshall had started, he seemed prepared to tell it as it was. "It started when your father was ill, though I believe Matt had had some inkling of Nathan's dishonesty before that. But when your father was in hospital, and Nathan took control—well, let's just say he almost ran the company into the ground."

"Oh, God!"

"I don't think you want to know all the details. I'll just say that Nathan was awarding contracts to anyone who was prepared to make it worth his while. Which in simple terms means that our costs were not competitive. Your father had to drag himself from his sickbed to avoid a vote of no confidence by the board."

Caitlin's face was pale. "I knew there must be some reason why Nathan was replaced."

"By me," conceded Marshall ruefully. "Your father needed someone he could trust."

"And he trusted you?"

"For his sins."

"That's an odd expression."

"It was an odd situation."

Caitlin's brow furrowed. "But how did he know he could trust you any more than Nathan?"

"Let's say we made a deal. How about that?"

Caitlin frowned. "I don't understand. How did he find you? You hadn't worked for the company before."

Marshall looked as if he would have liked to explain everything, but instead, he returned to the matter in hand. "Whatever," he said, "I was supposed to monitor Nathan's behaviour. Matt thought he'd covered all the bases, but he was wrong."

"And you found out?"

"Eventually." Marshall pulled a wry face. "I didn't realise what he was doing at first. We suspect he's diverted funds away from the Magdalena River project. It would explain why our estimates don't add up."

Caitlin looked confused, and Marshall continued. "You may have heard the project mentioned. It's the dam we bid successfully for in Colombia. It's one of our biggest undertakings, and the funds involved are enormous. No one initially questioned the extra materials Nathan had costed to the job. But, as I say, our suspicions were aroused, and after making inquiries, I'm afraid it looks as if Nathan has managed to convert at least some of these funds to his own ends."

"The South American contract," breathed Caitlin, and Marshall nodded.

"The South American contract," he repeated. "From preliminary investigations, we do know that a healthy sum of money was deposited in a numbered account in Bogotá." Marshall paused. "I know we shouldn't jump to conclusions until we have positive proof, but that's my opinion. Which might account for why he's disappeared."

Caitlin blinked. "You think he never intended to come back?"

"It's possible. It might explain why his brother was on that plane." He paused. "I wonder how he persuaded— Jake, did you say?—to help him. It seems a small amount to split two ways."

"How small?"

Marshall hesitated. "Half a million pounds, give or take."

Caitlin frowned. "Well, it is a fortune to some people!"

Marshall tendered a reluctant smile. "So your father tells me. But I would have thought Nathan needed more than that to make it worth his while. Except that we don't know what he plans to do with it. That might provide an answer, if we knew."

"What he plans to do with it?" Caitlin was perplexed. "Why, he'll spend it, of course. Nathan was always short of money. I know that."

"Perhaps. But don't you think the fact that the money was deposited in a bank in the Colombian capital is significant?" Marshall paused. "Particularly as it just happens to be one of the biggest producers of illegal substances in the world."

Caitlin was stunned. "You can't suspect Nathan of smuggling drugs!" she exclaimed. She caught her breath. "I don't believe it. He wouldn't know how to do such a thing. He may be a thief, but he's not an addict." She shuddered. "After what happened to me with David Griffiths, doesn't Daddy think I'd know if he was?"

"No one's saying he's an addict, or that he intended to smuggle the drugs himself." Marshall sighed. "But he could have paid someone else to do it." He shook his head. "He could have bought the stuff in New York and arranged for someone else to take it to England."

Caitlin felt sick. "It's not possible."

"Why not?" Marshall warmed to his theme. "People are smuggling goods into the country every day. Some get caught. Some don't. Believe me, not every ounce—or kilo— of cocaine is discovered. Pushers are making a fortune selling the stuff on the street."

"But some get caught?"

"Yes. And the penalties are severe. You'd have to be pretty foolish, or pretty desperate, to take the chance. But you have to admit, it is a possibility. It's something I've been considering for a while."

Caitlin sniffed. "You mean, you and Daddy have been considering it, don't you?"

"He knows of my suspicions, yes."

"Is that why you grilled Na—Jake—when we were staying at Fairings? Were you trying to find out then if he was lying or not?"

"Something like that."

Caitlin shook her head. "It's unbelievable."

"But possible." Marshall grimaced. "Though knowing Nathan as I do—the real Nathan, that is—I find the idea of him risking everything to buck the system almost beyond belief." He hesitated. "But this—what you've just told me—might provide an answer. It could explain his brother's presence on the plane."

"No!"

Caitlin couldn't bear it. Even the idea of her husband smuggling drugs was more acceptable than believing Jake had been involved. He wouldn't, she told herself desperately; he couldn't. Though the fact remained, he had been travelling on his brother's passport…

Marshall was regarding her a little sympathetically now, and Caitlin felt the hot colour invade her cheeks. What must he be thinking? she wondered unhappily. He'd seen them together on more than one occasion, and he must know they'd shared a room at her parents' house.

"You sound very positive," he remarked now, and Caitlin spread the damp handkerchief between her palms.

"Do I?" she said, hoping he couldn't tell how she was really feeling. "Well, perhaps I am. I can't believe—Jake would do something like this."

"For what it's worth, nor can I," declared Marshall flatly. "It's just difficult to come up with another alternative. One thing's certain. No one could have foreseen the accident. Which brings us back to the problem of where the real Nathan is now."

Caitlin got restlessly to her feet and paced across to the windows. "What would you say if I told you I didn't care?" She traced the line of the wood grain with a wistful finger. "I know it probably sounds crazy to you, but I wanted to believe
he
was Nathan. I suppose that was why I didn't question the way he behaved."

"I know what you mean." Marshall rose now and came to join her. "He seemed so eager to learn, I was completely taken in."

"But you knew he was different. You said as much that evening you came to the flat." Caitlin sighed. "I suppose I just blinded myself to the fact that it couldn't be him."

"So where do we go from here?" Marshall looked at her gently. "I guess we talk to—Jake. I gather you haven't spoken to him since this woman came to the shop."

"No." Caitlin looked up at him through her lashes. "I couldn't. He—left for New York this morning to find—his roots."

"Shit!"

For the first time in their short acquaintance, Marshall lost his temper. But she could hardly blame him for his impatience, or for the fact that he felt betrayed. She'd had the same feelings herself, ever since Lisa had dropped her bombshell. She'd been asking herself why, after all that had happened between them, she didn't have his trust.

"You do realise we might have seen the last of both of them," Marshall said at last, when he had recovered his composure. "I'm sorry if I was rude, but I can just imagine what your father's going to say when he hears this." He paused. "Did he tell you where he was going? Or is that a silly question? How can we trust a man who's spent the past three weeks masquerading as his brother to tell the truth?"

"Not three weeks." Caitlin wouldn't have that. "A few days at most, and he did tell Lisa his real name."

"Probably because she'd realised he wasn't Nathan," muttered Marshall dourly. "Oh, dammit, what the hell are we going to do?"

"I could go to Prescott," suggested Caitlin cautiously, the idea blossoming tentatively in her mind. "Prescott, New Jersey, that is. Where Nathan's father is living. He seemed a little confused when he saw Nathan—that is, Jake—in the hospital. If Jake is Nathan's twin brother, then he'd know who his son was, wouldn't you think?"

Marshall's expression brightened considerably. "That's a brilliant idea," he said, and even Caitlin felt her spirits lift a little at the unexpected praise. "But I'll go to Prescott, and you can go and tell your father what I'm doing. He might not cut off my—" he grimaced "—allowance, if he thinks I'm making progress."

Caitlin gave him an old-fashioned look. "You are joking, I trust," she stated tersely. "If anyone's following-Jake to Prescott, it's me. I am his wife—well, I thought I was, and he probably thinks I still believe it. How you explain what's happened to Daddy is your problem. Not mine."