Secrets
By:
Erosa Knowles
Mr. Baxter, died and left Chastity the bulk of his estate. Great right? That was until she faced his greedy relative in a court battle over the estate, which opens a can of Secrets. Court exposure sets off a string of events that reach as high as the United States Senate Chambers and as low as State prison walls. Through everything, Chastity once again must face her past Secrets. Desperate measures won’t allow her to push her childhood friend, Lt. Cmdr. Kenton Stone to the side, she needs his help, even though she hides the biggest Secret of all from him.
Published by Sitting Bull Publishing
Smashwords Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author‘s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.
SECRETS
Copyright 2011 by Erosa Knowles
2011 All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 9781937334079
First Edition Electronic August 2011
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Erosa Knowles.
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Edited by: Vicki Zalascek
Chapter 1
Chastity March admitted she’d lost this round. After multiple refusals to attend mediation, today she waved the white towel in surrender as she strode down the eerie halls of the old Philadelphia law firm. The clicks of her serviceable low-heeled pumps against the beige ceramic tiles competed with the loud thumps in her chest. Tendrils of cold seeped from paneled walls plastered with portraits, a pictorial morgue of men and women who were long dead. Like a fox salivating over sheep, their faces leapt at her as she passed. Slashes of smiles, gruesome in their attempt to appear benevolent, mocked her. She suspected these vultures had created gold nests from the fear and ignorance of people like Ms. Cook, the elderly housekeeper at the ranch. The thought leached all moisture from her mouth and throat.
Each dreaded step to the opened doorway at the end of the hall sent the nausea already churning in her gut, up a notch. An acrid taste filled the back of her throat as she drew closer to the room. Closer to the inquisition. Closer to the disaster with her name on it.
Today, she'd dressed in her best black suit, each of the five buttons securely fastened on the boxy jacket. The straight skirt fell a respectable distance below her knees. She'd pulled back her dark, thick curly hair into a chignon lying on the base of her neck; stubborn tendrils escaped from the sides, caressing her dark face. Her goal was to look professional, act professional, be professional; but most of all, don't kick Maude Stone’s lily-white ass. Not that the woman deserved her consideration, she didn't; however, since she represented Mr. Baxter's estate she'd put her personal feelings aside. For the next few hours anyway.
Inhaling, she bolstered her wavering courage before stopping at the doorway. Sunlight glinted off three drinking glasses set on the long table at the rear of the room. Two people sat around an oval mahogany table in the middle of the room, talking softly. One was an older white male with brownish-blonde hair, average build, and a large round face with buck teeth. The other was an anorexic-looking older woman with blondish hair, pale skin and thin, almost non-existent, lips.
Chastity’s eyes slid to the corner of the room, widening in pleasure at seeing Mr. Jamison, Mr. Baxter's attorney, well, her attorney now, who sat looking at some papers. One knot in her stomach eased at the sight of someone she knew who wasn't overtly hostile toward her. Entering the room, head high as Mr. Baxter had instructed, she headed toward her attorney, aware that all conversation had stopped.
Either he heard her approach or he’d been watching the doorway, because he stood with a welcoming smile and extended his hand to her.
Mr. Jamison pulled out a chair for her. "Hello, Chastity. How are you?" His deep husky voice brought a smile to her face. Calm and soothing, she wondered if he practiced to get it just right.
Another knot unfurled in her stomach. Moisture returned to her mouth, allowing her to return his greeting without stammering. She sat and pulled her chair toward the table. "I'm fine, sir."
"Call me Richard. I'm your attorney now." His palm rested on her tightly clasped hands lying on her lap. "Don't worry, things will be fine. This is just a preliminary. David told me he discussed this possibility with you." His brow rose in question.
She nodded after realizing he spoke of Mr. Baxter. "Yes. Yes, he did. But, I never liked the idea, plus it’s a long drive from the ranch." She slid her hands from beneath his and looked around the table.
He leaned forward and spoke softly. "I understand. David explained you've only left the ranch a few times in the past ten years."
She nodded. In order to keep her tough skin tight, she veered away from all discussion about the ranch.
"We'll try and wrap this up quickly, then you can be on your way." He smiled and returned to the papers he'd been looking over.
Exhaling, Chastity fought the rising nausea at the thought of answering questions about her life, about Mr. Baxter, about the ranch. Some things should be left alone. Two more people entered the room.
"Damn."
She glanced at Mr. Jamison's scowling face and followed the line of his gaze. Her stomach dropped, kicking her heart into high gear as she recognized the overblown, plasticized face of Maude Stone, Mr. Baxter's sister. The greedy bitch who had started this mess. At five foot three and two hundred pounds, she'd stuffed herself into a light pink suit. Her belly hung over the top of her skirt and the tight sleeves of her jacket threatened to cut off her circulation at any moment. Next to her stood a short, gray haired woman with large lips that appeared frozen in a pout. Not at all attractive on a woman her age.
Chastity's stomach knotted back up with a vengeance. A buzzing sound that she recognized as nerves, serenaded her mind. Pushing everything away, she focused on her reason for being here. Mr. Baxter had given her the ranch. It was hers. People counted on her to be strong and win this battle. Little by little, her discomfort eased. At least she could sit without losing her breakfast.
Besides, this wasn't about her. No matter how they worded the request for mediation, she knew better. Time to squash her fears and do what Mr. Baxter had told her to do, exactly as they'd rehearsed. She sat straight. Random thoughts flew around her mind, but she refused to allow dread and anxiety to lodge in her psyche.
"Mr. Jamison, I see your client is here. The plaintiff is here as well, shall we begin?" The anorexic woman's deep voice startled Chastity out of her reverie.
"Yes, thank you,” Mr. Jamison answered.
The woman nodded. "Good. My name is Ms. Jackson. I will serve as Mediator today. Due to the nature of this claim, I have asked Mr. John Abrams to assist since he has a lot of experience with these types of cases." She pointed to the man seated next to her before looking across the table at Maude Stone.
"As attorney for Ms. Stone, we appreciate any assistance in setting these matters straight as expeditiously as possible." Her attorney flipped through a stack of papers, before glancing across the table to Mr. Jamison.
The mediator nodded. "A grievance was filed against the will of Mr. David Baxter by his sister, Mrs. Maude Stone— “
“Why am I here wasting my time?” Chastity blurted, unable to hold it in any longer, her jaw tight. “Mr. Baxter had the right to leave his money and property to whoever he wanted to.” Brows raised and head tilted, she stared at the shellacked hair on Maude Baxter’s head and wished she had a match to send it sky-high in flames.
“If he weren’t unduly influenced, which I believe he was,” Maude snapped, her eyes narrowed in challenge.
The heifer wants to play. Bring it on. “So you’re rewriting the law now?” She shoved a tendril of hair behind her ear.
“Just stating it so you can understand.” Her tone dripped acid.
“Cut the crap, you’re fighting his will ‘cause I’m black. If I were white, your nose’d be so far up my ass, I’d be breathing for you.” He’d told her to come out fighting, throw down the gauntlet.
Maude Stone's neck and shoulders tensed at the distasteful confrontation. “What’s up with you people?” She chuckled with an evil grin and pushed herself forward, her breast squashed against the table.
Chastity’s teeth snapped together as her face blazed. “You people?” Eyes widening, she leaned forward, palms on the table, and stood. “Oh hell no, you didn’t.” This bitch doesn’t know me.
Maude rolled her eyes. “Yeah, anytime something happens, you scream it’s because of your color. That’s getting so old. Somebody says something against the President, it's because he’s black. If the police make a mistake, take down the wrong person, it’s because he’s black; if the rent goes up, it because he’s black; if the sun don’t shine, it’s because of somebody black. Damn, the sun don’t just shine on black people. Listen, the only color that matters in the world today is green. And I’m fighting my brother’s will because you’re a gold-digging whore.”
Chapter 2
Although Mr. Baxter had warned her, Mr. Jamison had hinted at it, and Ms. Cook had flat out told her the woman was going to be a bitch about not getting the lion's share of her brother's wealth, Chastity hadn't fully believed it. Why would a woman who had never talked to or visited Mr. Baxter, who had known he couldn’t stand her, think she was entitled to anything from him?
“Ask your husband who’s the whore? Huh?”Chastity pointed across the table as Mr. Jamison pulled her back down into her chair. “Can you believe that…that,” she trailed off as her attorney turned away, listening to the Mediator.
The hum of voices flew as the attorneys discussed protocol. Her eyes returned to Mr. Baxter's sister. According to Mr. Jamison, the bitch knew there was no way to overturn the will, yet she persisted in this mockery, wasting everyone's time. As if she read Chastity's thoughts, the woman turned and met her glare. The old bat's lip turned up at the corner, gloating.
"Ms. March? Ms. March, did you understand the question?" The mediator stared at her, annoyance clearly visible on her face and in her voice.
"No, I didn't hear the question." She turned from Maude’s smug appearance and looked to the head of the table.
The woman pursed her non-existent lips together, eyed her a moment longer, and repeated the question. "Ms. Green, the attorney for Ms. Stone, asked if you had a physical relationship with Mr. David Baxter."
A frown marred her brow. "No. Despite the kinky fantasies of his sister, Mr. Baxter was simply my employer."
The other attorney looked at her papers. "Why do you live in his home?"
"I work there."
"Doing what?"
"I am, or was, Mr. Baxter's administrative assistant."
"Really? Were you ever trained?"
"Yes." She tapped her fingernails on the table, her nostrils flared at the attorney’s condescending tone.
The attorney looked up from the paper she held and glanced at her, a look of distaste flashed in her eyes. "By who?"
"I took an online course." She didn't bother to mention her Bachelor’s degree in Business, the less they knew about her, the better.
The witch nodded. "Of course. So, what were your daily duties as Mr. Baxter's assistant?" Her tone was just above a sneer.
Chastity swallowed her frustration at the woman’s attitude and unclenched her fist in her lap. Think of Mr. Baxter and the others. "I collected the mail, both snail and electronic, sent responses to those he assigned to me. Mostly vendors and family." For a moment, she enjoyed the red tinge climbing up Ms. Stone's face. "I also set up his appointments with his managers, accountant, and legal counsel. During the past three years, I sat in on every meeting as Mr. Baxter downsized."
"Did he offer to give you the company?"
"No."
"No? Come now, Ms. March. Isn't it true you now run the company, the one you stole from Mr. Baxter?"
Chastity’s smiled widened at the naiveté of the two women across the table. Stole something from Mr. Baxter? That was priceless.
"I fail to see the humor, Ms. March. Did my comments hit too close to the truth?" This time the opposing attorney flat out sneered.
Pulling herself back from the brink of delivering a brutal verbal smack-down, she gave herself a stern reminder. Business, remember what Mr. Baxter said."Obviously you haven't done your research." She folded her hands in front of her on the table and stared at them.
The woman's chest puffed. "I assure you, I have."
She glanced at Mr. Jamison. He winked at her. "What business did I steal from Mr. Baxter?" Maude Stone had no inkling of her brother’s true nature; therefore, she had no clue who her opponent was in this charade. No one stole anything from David Baxter. The man’s mind was solid to the end.
"His finance company, Baxter and Gains. According to my records, as of two days ago, you signed off on correspondence as his AA. Do you deny that?"
"No, I do not."
"Do you deny you are running that company?"
"Yes, I do." The opposing attorney glared at her.
The attorney spoke to the mediator. "I don't see how we're going to make progress here when she finds this serious matter, funny, and refuses to be truthful."
"Not true," Mr. Jamison objected. "Ms. March spoke truthfully. Your information is incorrect; she does not run B&G. Mr. Baxter sold his rights to that company two years ago. That's old news, Maude."
Mr. Baxter's sister's jaws trembled. "That's not true, we have the records here. She stole the company and is running it under your nose."
He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "How did she steal it from Robert Gains? His son and daughter run the firm from their offices in upstate New York. They've also decided to keep the name for now. None of the company's intricate dealings are available to you or anyone else without Ms. March's approval. She holds guardianship rights over the remains of Mr. Baxter's enterprises." He sounded so smug; it took all of Chastity’s energy not to high-five him.
Instead, she stared at the two women as they conferred and flipped through their files. She looked at her watch and loudly whispered to Mr. Jamison. "One more hour, then I'm leaving." He nodded.
Ms. Jackson looked at the two women. "Are you finished? Has Ms. March's position satisfied your claim?"
"No, it has strengthened it." Maude Stone pointed a finger at Chastity. "Why would my brother leave his business affairs to you? Why not my son? Or someone he's related to?"
"Like you?" She asked with a sly grin. She’d waited for this opening since the woman called her a whore.
Maude's face flamed red as she nodded and tilted up her chin. “Yes.”
“He never forgave you for forgetting to tell him his wife called before she died. He hated you. Said you were a whoring, heartless, greedy bitch, And he wouldn't leave you a roll of toilet paper to clean your nasty ass,” she said in a monotone voice as if she were reading a script.
Maude jumped to her feet, jowls jiggling, and hands clenched. "You lying bitch. My brother never talked like that until he met you."
Mr. Jamison stood as well, holding his glasses in his fingers. "Yeah, he did, and you know what she's saying is true. Hell, he said worse to your face in front of others, on the phone whenever you called to beg for money, and even in reply to the emails you sent him begging for money. Talk about dishonesty. Why are you trying to portray your relationship with David as sisterly? That's a lie and you know it."
Face reddened, she snarled at him. "Fuck you, Richard."
"Never again, Maudie." He sat with a frown stamped on his face.
Chastity glanced at her easygoing attorney and then at Mr. Baxter's sister. "Ewww," she said, leaning toward him.
Mr. Jamison's head whipped up. He caught her horrified expression and chuckled. "It was a long time ago."
Mr. Abrams spoke for the first time into the silence. "Since there was a sizable amount left to Kenton Stone, Mr. Baxter's nephew, are you aware of any reason why Mr. Baxter didn't leave the guardianship of his estate to him?"
Mr. Jamison looked at her.
Chastity looked at Maude Stone. "When was the last time Kenton saw his uncle?"
The woman's jaw clenched tight. "I don't know."
"It was the last time you saw him, Ms. Stone.” The chill in her own voice sent waves of goose bumps over her arms. This woman pushed her buttons and pissed her off. “Four years ago before he left to go overseas. He'd contacted Mr. Baxter from time to time, but due to the sensitivity of Kenton's work, they discussed very little. Almost all of their brief chats were vocal and not online. Whether Mr. Baxter considered his nephew to run his affairs, I don't know. I do know he began training me three years ago."
Mr. Abrams nodded as he wrote on a pad in front of him.
"How much is the business worth?"
"There is no business." Chastity snapped, tired of answering the same questions.
"How much are you guarding and who're you guarding it for?" the mediator asked.
"Not important."
"Yes, it is important," the other attorney said, sitting forward like a bloodhound on a fresh trail.
"How about, I'm not going to say." She sat back in the chair, crossed her arms on her lap and sent a smug grin to Maude.
No one spoke. A judge could make her provide the books, but no one in this room could, and they knew it. The mediator's long, bony fingers tapped the table, her nails making a clicking sound. "Ms. March, we are trying to settle this matter as quickly as possible, but we need your cooperation. Is there a reason you won't disclose this information?"
She nodded. "Mr. Baxter instructed me not to. He said if his greedy sister took his will to court, Mr. Jamison had a DVD for the trial and another will takes the place of the current one."
All eyes turned to Mr. Jamison. "Is that true?" The mediator asked him.
He pursed his lips and nodded. "I have a DVD in my possession that is to be played in court and admitted into public records if anyone contests Mr. Baxter's will. He knew Maude would be the only one to try for more money, and he absolutely refused to leave her another dime. There is a new will that makes sure she gets less than the first." He turned and looked at the red-faced woman. Her body shook as she returned his glare. "He had professionals; doctors, psychologists, even a judge to prove his mental state, and the law says he can give his money and property to whomever he chooses. Don't make this worse on yourself."
"You knew all this, you bastard," Maude uttered beneath her breath.
Chastity stood in preparation to leave. They'd wasted too much of her time.
"One moment, young lady," the opposing attorney said. "Who are these children?" She pushed three pictures across the table.
A shaft of fear slammed through her. Slowly, she returned to her chair and stared at the pictures lying on the table. A fissure, a cracking of her resolve, shifted inside. Her throat constricted at the smiling face of Jonah, the laughing gaze of Micah, and the teasing lights in Mariah's eye. A tingling sensation zipped down her spine as she glanced into the calculating gleam of the witch's eyes.
"Why?" Chastity stalled, trying desperately to rewrap the confident veneer around her shoulders.
"Why not? Are they anything to you?" The attorney paused. "Are they yours?" The silkily asked question fell like a thunderbolt into the silence.
Beads of sweat popped on her forehead. You're doing this for Sven, Ms. Cook, the children, and Mr. Baxter. But never at the expense of the children. "Why?” she asked again. “Why do you want to know who they are?" She tried to remember what to say. Mr. Baxter's instructions slipped from her mind like wisps of smoke.
"Is this another question Mr. Baxter instructed you to remain silent on? These children live on his ranch, the ranch he left to you. Once again, I ask you, who are these children?"
"None of your business." Chastity stood, vibrating with the heat of either fear or anger, her heart beat too fast to decide which. She turned to Mr. Jamison. "I'm done. Let them petition the courts to deal with Mr. Baxter's will." She glanced at the women salivating at the table. “You don't get it, do you?” Her eyes zeroed in on Maude. “You haven't seen mad until you mess with Mr. Baxter. Even from the grave, he's running this show, and he's gonna kick your ass. See you in court. Good luck.”
Mr. Jamison replaced his files into his folder and stood to leave with her.
"Wait," Maude yelled, standing.
Chastity ignored her and walked toward the door. Her head ached with all the back and forth. Her heart raced with the knowledge that someone had breached the ranch’s security. As she left the room, Maude’s voice echoed down the hall as she made a final appeal to Mr. Jamison.
"Richard, please. I need to know what's at stake here."
"For you, everything," he said. A moment later, he met up with Chastity and walked her to Sven and their waiting car.
Chapter 3
News of his uncle’s death had reached Lieutenant Commander Kenton Stone five days ago. The funeral had taken place sometime in the past two weeks. He hadn’t seen his uncle in four years and guilt rode him hard knowing he’d never see or talk to his favorite relative again. Uncle David was dead.
Death wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He’d delivered it more times than he liked to remember. As a trained operative, he knew ways to make a man take his last breath without breaking skin. This last tour had been more brutal than most, he’d done his duty, but that didn’t make it more palatable. But this loss hit home.
Neither the old man nor anyone else had let on how sick his uncle had been, or that there were any problems. If anything, his uncle had made it seem as though things were going extremely well. Anger swelled inside him and then deflated. It was his fault. Deliberate evasive maneuvers. That's what he'd been doing the past four years. No, check that. He'd been hiding his feelings for his uncle's assistant for as long as he could remember. Since they were teens he'd tried everything, including following her around like a lovesick puppy, to get her to notice him. Nothing had worked, she was polite but uninterested. The last time he'd seen her, he'd made a mess of things. He hadn't been back to the ranch since. In retrospect, his reasoning for not visiting his uncle seemed selfish and immature. Guilt tasted ugly. Shame was worse.
His cell rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he smiled. His preference ran more to darker complexions with full curves and curly hair. He hadn't given up on winning his dream woman, but Renee, a sexy brunette he'd met fourteen months ago in Washington D.C., made a nice interim distraction.
“Hi, Renee. I just got in and I'm on my way to my uncle's.” He paused, listening to her husky voice. She understood his need to go and check on the ranch, pay his respects. They were both itching to see each other again. It’d been too long since he'd laid between a woman’s soft thighs and she’d made it clear she wanted him between hers tonight.
“Yeah, I'm coming to see you later. How long you in town?” She traveled constantly with her job at the travel agency and had specifically arranged to be here during his leave. His cock hardened as she told him precisely what she intended to do to him tonight. It sounded like his sexual hiatus would definitely come to an end as she worked him over with her new tongue ring.
He clicked off, uncomfortable in his jeans. His cell rang again. This time when he looked at the caller ID, he scowled. He let it go to voice mail. Why was his mother calling him? They hadn't spoken in years. Four years, to be exact. When he'd needed her most, she'd showed her true colors and betrayed him in a way he’d yet to forgive. Although, she’d tried to repair the breach, he'd cut off all communication with her. But after receiving the missive regarding his uncle’s affairs, he'd decided to call a truce to make sure his uncle’s final wishes were carried out. Damn. He grabbed his cell and returned her call.
“Kenton, oh thank God. Are you here?” His mom gushed.
“I’m headed to Philly. I have a date with a friend later on.” He refused to be cordial. A truce wasn’t forgiveness, didn’t mean things were back to normal.
“You've come at the right time. I had a meeting earlier and things went well. Soon I’ll be rid of that dreadful girl.”
A sliver of unease rolled down his back. “What dreadful girl?” He hoped this wasn’t about his uncle’s ward.
“The one that’s stealing from my brother. She ruined his affairs, I think she ran off with his business, and that old fool still left almost everything to her. Well, I’m not going to stand for that bullshit. Now that you’re here, you can help me set the record straight. I know how close you were with him. I’m sure he meant to leave us…I mean you, more money in his will.”
Everyone, including his mom, knew Uncle David didn’t like her. He'd never leave her much of his money if anything at all. “If I were you, I’d leave it alone.”
“But…but, it’s millions of dollars.”
“Maybe. I don’t know, but it was his to give away. He didn’t give it to either of us and you need to be okay with that. Respect his wishes.” Hearing her heavy breathing, he knew the idea of all that money slipping through her fingers like grains of sand sent her heart racing. Money had been her god for so long, greed ruled her life. Family meant nothing, he'd learned that lesson well.
“I’m thinking of taking this to court.”
“You’ll lose.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Uncle David was nobody’s fool. If you push it, he’ll make you look like one. Besides, you have no grounds to move forward. I’m telling you it’s a waste of time.”
“I think I might have something.”
Another shiver ran down his spine. He white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Let it go. Can’t you respect his wishes just this once?”
“No,” she snapped. “That asshole won’t win this time. Since that incident with his wife, all those years ago, he’s treated me like last year’s trash. Every time I tried to make-up for my mistake, he’d tell me to fuck off. How can anyone hold a grudge for forty years?”
“Well, you were supposed to tell him his wife called and needed to speak to him, that it was urgent. You forgot to tell him.”
“I know that, damn it.” She paused. “I know, and I hate that I forgot with every fiber of my being. It was an accident. I just forgot to tell him she called. How was I to know she was sick? Was it my fault the next day when he got home, she died?”
“Uncle David thought — “
“I know what that asshole thought. He never let me forget it. The doctors were wrong; she would’ve still died had he gotten there earlier.”
His mom always skewed the facts so she could live with herself. All the medical professionals agreed his aunt would’ve survived if she’d gotten treatment earlier, instead of twenty-four hours later. His uncle blamed his mom for not taking a minute to call him.
“Hmmm. So this is about revenge against Uncle David and you’re using Chastity?”
“Well, they were pretty cozy at that ranch.”
His unease upgraded to a tremor. “I believe she worked there.”
“Hmpf. That’s what she wants everyone to believe. I think she fed him something over the years to bend him to her will. The man left her everything, for goodness sake. Why would any man do that unless there was something more to their relationship? She was his mistress, and she killed him for his money.”
“That’s some conspiracy theory you got going there. You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What?” She snapped.
“Uncle David was nobody’s fool. If he left her everything, he wanted her to have it and nobody, including you, will be able to snatch it from her. Despite his seventy plus years, he still worked as a consultant to top government agencies with a high security clearance. He wasn’t senile; the man was a genius who'll beat you down from the grave.” And I'll help him if you don't back off Chas.
“Not this time. I have something on him. Even if I don’t win, his name will be damaged. I'll knock him from his high pedestal. There’s winning and there’s winning.”
“Whatever. Just so you know, I’m not going to be a part of this plan of yours to strip my uncle’s will. I plan to pay my respects and offer any assistance needed to clean up the mess you wrote me about. Other than that, I plan to leave his estate alone.”
“Are you going to the ranch?”
“Probably,” he hedged.
“Good. Let me know what you see there so— “
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not telling you anything. Go to the ranch yourself or send dad.” His dad lived with his mistress in another county, except on the weekends. Everyone knew, but no one talked about it.
“David banned me from the ranch years ago, they won’t let me in.” She ignored the comment about his dad. No surprise there.
“Tough, gotta go. Someone’s expecting me.” He clicked off.
****
A loud squeal from Ms. Cook, the housekeeper, rang in his ears as he walked toward the front entrance. Swinging open the screened door, her arms opened, offering a motherly embrace. Careful of the sling on his right arm, he allowed her to hold him tight as she rocked from side to side. Her head only reached to his chest, her slight frame radiated warmth. Gray hair floated around her shoulders as the smell of lemon and vanilla accosted his nostrils. The woman smelled like home and he held on a few seconds longer, savoring the genuine welcome. If only everyone would be as happy to see him.
“It's so good to see you, Ken. You've gotten taller and much bigger. How've ya been?” She pointed to his obvious injury. He didn't want to talk about that. “You want something to eat, drink?” Some things never changed, she always tried to feed him.
After he set her down inside the hallway, she moved back, pushing strands of hair from her lined face. He took a quick look around the foyer. He'd tossed his hats and gloves on the solid wood hat tree, lost many toys in the large ceramic umbrella urn, left his new jacket on the coat hooks lining the dark paneled walls. Each item sparked memories from his childhood. Relief spread through him that things remained the same.
“No thank you. I'm good. Sorry I missed the funeral. It took the note a while to find me.”
She patted his arm. “That's okay, you know your Uncle had everything picked out and planned, all the way down to the catered repast. Everyone just followed his instructions, as usual.”
Her last words caught his attention. His uncle was a precise and strategic man. “I can only imagine. How was he at the end?”
Ms. Cook walked into the living room.
He followed. They sat on the beige and brown swirled sofa. Her smile dropped as she gazed out the large picture windows facing the mountains. A look of sadness replaced her earlier joy. “He cheated the diabetes and lived longer than the doctors expected. I don't think he was in a lot of pain. He wheezed some, coughed a little, but mostly he worked.”
“Worked?”
“Yeah. Strange, huh?” She sighed, holding her clasped hands on her lap. Her black and white plaid dress hung loosely around her shoulders, she’d lost weight since he saw her last. He wondered, not for the first time, what his uncle’s relationship had been with Ms. Cook. She’d been around since he was a small boy.
“It was like he knew time was running out and he had to finish whatever he was doing. Him and Chastity stayed locked up in that room for hours. Sometimes Sven or his attorney would visit and talk to him. But mostly, it was just the two of them.”
He frowned, not sure he understood the implications. “Chastity’s still here then?” His mom made it sound like she'd ran off and left his uncle's estate in a state of disarray.
Her eyes latched onto his, as she tilted her head to the side. “Of course she’s still here. Where else would she be?”
He shrugged, more confused by his mother’s rant. “So, she helped in the office?”
“Yeah. She's a smart girl. Got her a college degree in business. I seen it myself. She worked hard for it. We’re proud of her.”
He didn’t know that. “How'd she help him? I mean, what did she do?”
“Well, I don't rightly know. She's got all that college education. Baxter asked her to work for him and she did.”
He scratched the five o’clock shadow on his face. “I didn't know she went to college. I guess I've been gone longer than I thought.”
“Yeah, lots of things changed.”
He glanced at her. Once again, the tone of her comment made him think more was going on than she let on. If there was a weak link on the ranch, it was Ms. Cook. She couldn’t hold water. No one else would spill secrets. “Like what?”
“Huh?” She blinked at him.
“You said lots of things changed. Like what?” He glanced at her sideways.
She smiled. “Well, Mr. Baxter left a ton of instructions with Chastity and Sven. You know, no one tells me much. But, the last few years Baxter worked hard with Chastity to make sure she could handle— “ A loud bang came from the other side of the house, followed with childish yelling and squabbling.
“Ms. Cook?” Kenton’s brow rose. He didn’t know there were children on the ranch. She smiled as she stood and walked slowly to the hall.
“Stop that yelling, I’m in the livin’ room.” She looked at him. “They’re always ripping and a-runnin' through here. Probably hungry.”
Curious, Kenton turned toward the doorway. His mouth dropped open when two small boys rushed inside, stopping short of knocking the older woman down. They were similar in appearance, but not identical. The light brown eyes, light toast colored complexions, and dark wavy shoulder length hair gave credence to their sibling relationship. He figured they were under ten, maybe in elementary school. One of them had his permanent front teeth. The other’s was missing. All in all, two handsome boys.
“Micah, Jonah, this is Kenton Stone, Mr. Baxter’s nephew. He’s in the military and just found out his uncle died, so he came all the way from around the world to make sure everybody on the ranch is doing okay. Isn’t that great?” Ms Cook winked at him while the boys stared at him in awe.
“Wow, do you know how to shoot a gun?” The one without teeth asked.
“Did somebody blow off your hand?” The other pointed to the cast on his right arm.
“Yes, I know how to shoot a gun. No, I still have my hand. I got hurt and the cast keeps it safe while it gets better.” He smiled at the genuine interests in their eyes.
“Before you ask a million questions,” Ms. Cook turned their attention to her. “Why were you yelling for me?”
“Oh, that’s right. Mr. Robbie sent us to fetch some old towels for the stables.”
Ms. Cook nodded and headed toward the hall. “Mind your manners, I’ll be right back.”
Both heads turned toward Kenton as she left the room. He had the impression they communicated with each other in some telepathic way he couldn’t comprehend. He waited for the inquisition. It didn’t take long.
“I’m going to be a Navy Seal like Uncle Sven when I grow up and catch bad guys like Bin Laden.” The one missing his front teeth said.
“I’m going to be a doctor so I can patch up the horses when they get sick.” The other said pointing to his chest.
“That’s lame.”
“No it’s not.” He shoved the other.
“Yes, it is.” Both eyes turned toward him. “Tell him it’s lame to be a horse doctor. It’s more fun to save the world from evil people.” The toothless wonder sneered at the other one. Kenton knew they were brothers. They had to be. Only close relatives would be so mean and loving at the same time to one another. They waited for him to speak.
He‘d never dealt with kids, but what the hell. “It’s never lame to follow your dream. Be who you want, do what you want. If— “
“See, I told you. I’mma tell mama you called me lame.” He stalked toward the hall.
“No I didn’t. I didn’t call you lame. You always telling. I said a horse doctor’s lame. You’re not a horse doctor.” They walked away arguing.
Kenton stared at the doorway. Who were they? There was something familiar about them, but he couldn’t place it. The puzzle flew around his mind until Ms. Cook limped slowly into the room. Concerned, he stood to assist her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and sat slowly.
“What happened? You’re limping.” He sat watching her. Did those boys do something? He hadn’t heard anyone else in the house.
She chuckled without humor and glanced at him. “I’m old. That’s what happened. I can’t move like I used to and when I try, these old bones remind me they’re tired.”
He looked at her, hard. She’d been here some thirty years. He’d never thought about it before, but she looked to be in her sixties. “Ms. Cook, sixty is not old.”
“Darn right it aint. But eighty-one is pushing it.” She moved to the side while he snapped his mouth shut.
“No way. You’re not in your eighties.” He stared at the gray strands and moderately lined skin, and wondered if she had Indian in her lineage.
“Then I guess my mama's a liar and my daddy a cheat.” She eyed him from the chair, hers crinkling at the corners.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. You, you just don’t look that old.” He paused as she squinted at him. “Not old. I mean that age. You don’t look like you’re in your eighties.”
“Yep, God’s been good. I was here with Janine, your uncle’s wife. I moved here to help her.”
Well, that explained it. Aunt Janine had died before he was born. Too much had happened over the years between his mom and Aunt Janine for him to head in that direction. Instead, he asked, “Where’s Chastity?”
“Chastity?”
“Yeah.” He figured she needed a minute to change directions from Janine to Chasity.
“She’s in Philadelphia. Some type of mediation.” The look she sent said he should know that.
“Mediation?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it about my uncle?” He was puzzled. No one had mentioned any of this to him. If he was going to be involved in cleaning up his uncle’s estate, shouldn’t they have at least notified him if they couldn’t wait?
“Most definitely.” She twisted her lips and rubbed her leg.
“Do you know what the mediation is about?”
“You just said it, your uncle. Anything more, you’ll have to ask her when she gets back. Should be in the morning.”
Not the morning, he planned to leave soon and meet up with Renee for some stress release. Ruthlessly, he tamped down feelings of guilt that arose. He wanted Chas, but he had Renee. Besides, celibacy wasn’t a good look on him and he intended to shed it within the next few hours.
After visiting with Ms. Cook for an hour or so, he stood and glanced at his watch. “Well, I hadn’t planned to stay tonight. I have a dinner date in the city. Tell Chas and Sven I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Be good, I'll see you in the morning.”
She smiled. “You be good, I know what kind of evening you have planned. Big handsome, dark eyed man like you, I’m sure it’s long overdue.”
His neck and face warmed at her knowing look. There was no need denying it, so he walked outside toward his car. The boys raced nearby. He returned their wave, thought for another minute, and returned to the house.
“Whose boys are those?” he asked Ms. Cook, who’d moved to the recliner.
“Boys?”
“Yeah, the two who were in here earlier?” Sometimes he’d grit his teeth at her asking questions in response to his questions.
“Jonah and Micah.”
“Yes, you introduced them already. Who are their parents? Do they live here?”
She waved his questions away. “Of course, they live here with their mama. Chastity. Where else would they live?” Once again, her look said he should know that. He couldn’t think past the gut punch at the news.
“Chastity has boys? How old are they? Who’s their father?” Numbly, he returned to the living room couch and sat. Her words bowled him over like an out-of-control Mack truck. His chest lurched at the thought of her married with a family. The devastating news shredded his calm and destroyed his lifelong plans.
“I think they’re seven or eight. Maybe nine. I don’t know for sure, you can ask them. I don’t rightly know who the father is, she won’t say. You ask her, she might tell you.”
“Why? Why would she tell me?” Thoughts swirled around his mind. His mother’s note was beginning to make sense. Had his uncle impregnated his ward? His mouth went dry and his belly clenched at the idea of Chastity and his old uncle, together, having sex.
Nausea rumbled in his belly. He’d always thought his uncle admirable, and held him in high esteem. Was that why she never left the ranch? He pulled his hand through his short hair. Good Lord, his uncle had been in his late seventies. Chastity was younger than his own thirty years. No wonder those boys looked familiar, the one missing his teeth had a nose and mouth that reminded him of his uncle and mother. A definite Baxter trait. Sick at heart, he stood and waved goodbye to Ms. Cook.
The idea of taking anything from his uncle’s estate left a vile taste in his mouth. How could his uncle take advantage of a woman fifty years his junior? Chastity thought his uncle could turn water into wine, she’d have done anything for him. Did she? Head pounding over the possibilities, he cranked his car and pulled out.
Slowly, he drove along the driveway. Disappointment swamped him. Ms. Cook said his uncle had worked hard the last few years with Chastity, alone. Probably giving her pointers on how to raise his boys. His uncle had sons. That’d make them his cousins. Strange, he felt no joy in that revelation. He hit the steering wheel and sped out the driveway, kicking up gravel in his wake. Thinking of the two boys running around his uncle’s ranch, he knew his mom was dead wrong. Obviously, she didn’t know about her nephews. Why’d his uncle keep his sons a secret from him?
Anger boiled beneath the surface. What the hell were they thinking? His uncle was too old to be a father. He’d have been in his late sixties when he impregnated her. Now he’d left his sons without a daddy to cheer them at games, see them graduate from school, or talk to them about life’s challenges. No child should suffer through parental neglect; he could write a book and give lectures on the subject. Sven, Robbie, and the men that worked the ranch, would have to step up to the plate and help. Whenever he was stateside he’d make sure to spend some time with them.
“Wait a minute,” he murmured. “If Chastity had two sons by his uncle, then they’d be next in line for everything. Why did mama say things were a mess?” Hope rose; maybe she hadn’t been with his uncle. Then dashed just as fast, she’d been with someone. Someone he didn’t know.
His cell vibrated. Thinking it was Renee, he answered without checking the caller ID. “Hey.” His voice deepened to the tone she’d told him turned her on.
“Kenton, have you left the ranch? Did you see any children?”
He stared at the phone. Maude Stone. Shaking his head at her gutsiness, he debated how to answer. “Yes, I’ve known for a while, but I know you aren’t bringing innocent children into this?” His jaw clenched at the thought.
“How’d you know?”
“I met them.”
“When?” She screeched.
Something told him to hold the information close. “Does it matter?”
“Yes. No. No, it doesn’t. I think they’re hers, and I plan to expose her as an unfit mother and have them taken away.”
Goosebumps exploded over his heated flesh. An acidic taste hit the back of his throat as shame filled him. His mom would split a family for no reason other than spite. Did she have no conscience? He stiffened his resolve.
“What happened to your conspiracy theory?”
“My attorney didn’t think that would work, either. But she thinks this is better. We have a chance of stripping the children from her and get them tested. If they’re my brother’s, then I get custody as his last living relative.”
Not his last, I’m still here. “You do that and I’ll never see or speak to you again. Not only that, I will do everything within my power to help defeat you.”
“Why?” she whispered. Her voice shook, before it strengthened. “Why would you do that?”
“Why would you tear up a family? For money? For revenge? My uncle is dead and you’re bullshitting around with someone’s life just because he didn’t like you. Fuck that.”
“Watch your tone.”
“Watch your targets. You wanna go after a dead man, help yourself. But I’m sworn to protect the living. Back off from Chastity.”
“That whore? She’s no better— “
“Than who? Who? Than your married friends who sleep around and head up important social committees. Some of the city’s biggest sluts parade as the upper crust. Upper crust my ass. Uncle David wasn’t stupid. If he left something for Chastity, then you’d better believe he’s taught her how to protect it. You need to find a way to deal with your dead brother and leave her alone.” He figured his words fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t hear past the sound of stacked dollar bills.
“Are you coming to see me?” Her voice softened.
“Probably not. This truce is for Uncle David. Just like he didn’t forgive your selfishness, I haven’t either.” He’d warned her, which was the most he could do for now.
“You’re just like him, so righteous, so full of your moral code. Although I’m surprised how quickly you picked up your uncle’s mantle as protector of his ward. Did you have any intimate dealings with her?”
Images from the two nights he’d spent with Chastity flew through his mind. His cock rose in tribute to the unforgettable events. Her soft milk chocolate skin, full lips, half-closed eyes. She was a siren, a temptress he’d desperately tried to make his own.
“No. Uncle David would’ve killed me.”
Chapter 4
The phone in his pocket vibrated. “Hold on, let me see who’s calling.” Representative Justin Rivers placed his best friend, Mike Griffin, on hold while he checked his personal cell. “Damn. It’s the old man. You wanna hold on? It won’t take long.” He grinned when Mike said okay. They were planning a ‘men only’ weekend next month and he wanted to be sure everything went off without a hitch.
“Senator, how are you this fine day?” He asked, glancing at some pictures Mike had sent over on his cell.
“I’m fine, just fine. How’s everything with you?”
He leaned back in the chair, scrolling through photos. “Everything’s good. The girls are in Montana at some type of camp. Brianna’s home with a heavy schedule; charities, committees, and such. When are you coming for a visit?”
“I have some free time next month. Maybe we could spend a weekend together.”
Not on your life. “Sure, that sounds good. Hopefully, your time off is the same as mine. I’m going to be out of town quite a bit.”
“Oh? Congress will be in recess.”
“True, but I have to meet with a lot of people when I get home. I’m thinking of taking on Tom Jenkins' senatorial seat.”
“How’s that was going?”
“Good. I need to up my finances, and that means a lot of ass-kissing.”
The old man grunted. “I know. Well, that was the only weekend I have free next month. We’ll get together when you’re back in town.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you after recess.”
He disconnected and picked his throwaway phone back up. “Sorry about that. He wanted to visit during recess.”
Mike’s chuckle had him smiling. “I’ve got some serious entertainment lined up for you. Don’t cancel at this late date.”
“Not even. I’ve been a good boy for a long time. Respectable and all that shit. I’ve earned this weekend and no one’s going to deny me my fun. Now I’ve looked at the pictures and the little brown doll sent a tingle through me. How old did you say she was?”
“I didn’t. She’s six.”
His breath hitched with excitement. There’d been a special place in his heart for brown dolls since losing his first brown doll over twenty years ago. Mike said she’d died in a car accident. This doll wasn’t as pretty as his brown baby girl had been, but she’d do.
“Untouched?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
Chapter 5
After placing her overnight bag in her bedroom, Chastity smiled as she heard the sound of running feet. Legs braced apart, she prepared to catch the twin tornadoes headed toward her.
“Mama!”
“Mama’s home.” Two sets of hands wrapped tight around her waist. She squeezed and inhaled the fresh clean scent that was unique to her handsome treasures.
“Hiya doing man cubs?” She tickled Jonah and then Micah. Both boys laughed so hard they fell backward on the bed. She continued kissing their cheeks as she tickled them.
“Mmmm, man cubs, good man cubs.” She deepened her voice and squeezed them again. “I missed you yesterday. Robbie said you behaved and even helped him with some chores. For that, I have a surprise for you.”
“For real?” Micah asked.
“A surprise?” Jonah’s lack of front teeth sent a spray of fluid onto his brother’s cheek.
“Ewww, you sprinkled me.”
“Did not.”
“Yes you did. Mama, didn’t he spit on me?” Two light brown eyes peered seriously at her. Her heart raced at the thought of any harm coming to her babies. They were so precious, so innocent. It was her job to make sure they remained that way. The only thing she’d requested from Mr. Baxter was to teach her how to keep her children safe. After a short argument, in which she remained adamant, he’d agreed. It had taken years of apprenticeship as he taught her business principles, but she’d learned at the master’s knee. Inhaling her renewed purpose, she winked at her sons.
“I don’t know.” She stood, laughing at their light-hearted teasing, the sound of security. The sound of joy and happiness. A sound she’d missed at their age. Moving toward the kitchen, she removed the box of Cinnabons from the pantry, sliced one, and placed each half of the sticky treat on the counter. Arguments temporarily forgotten, they tore into the pastry. She set out another danish and a cup of coffee for Ms. Cook before calling her into the kitchen. Mariah followed close on the heels of the housekeeper. It was rare to see one without the other, the older woman doted on the child.
“Oh my,” she said softly. “You're a sweetheart to be thinking of me at a time like this. You’ve got a lot of work to get to and all.” She sat in front of the coffee and took a sip. Her lips spread upward. “Ah. This is delicious. Much thanks to ya.”
Chastity smiled and dropped a kiss on Mariah’s cheek. Her daughter had eaten more than her share of sweets and was now cheerfully munching on the bowl of cereal she’d placed in front of her.
“I talked to a Navy Seal and he told me I should be one.” Micah spoke around the pastry in his mouth.
The smile on Chastity's face froze. Her system shut down at the news that someone she didn’t know had been around her children. That’s how kids were abducted; making small talk, making them feel safe and comfortable around strangers. Her eyes narrowed as Jonah joined in. “He said you should follow your heart.”
Micah shrugged. “Same thing.” Neither noticed the tightening around her eyes, or her pursed lips.
“What Navy Seal? Where did you meet him?” Chastity hadn’t meant to snap at them, but fear of the unknown always lurked just beneath the surface, ready to strangle her fragile strip of peace and rip her sanity to threads.
Startled, they glanced at her, then nodded toward the front of the house, their actions mirroring one another. “In the living room, yesterday. Ms. Cook said he came from around the world to check on us.”
“Someone came here yesterday?” She gazed at Ms. Cook who’d just put her cup down.
“Huh? Yesterday, somebody came here?” The older woman squinted at the boys.
“Yes’m. You introduced me and Jonah to the big man with the dark hair and light eyes, said he came to see us.”
Confusion evaporated from Ms. Cook's face, her mouth opened and closed on a large smile. “Oh, yes.” She clapped her hands. “Kenton's back in the country and came by yesterday to check on us. He said he’d be back today. That’s right. Robbie sent the boys in for something and he met them in the living room.”
Chastity's fist balled by her side. Fear and anger wrestled inside. Robbie knew the rules. No one was to get near her children. That’s why she took Mariah with her and Sven yesterday, so he could keep the boys safe here. Did Maude ask her son to come to the ranch and look around? To get information about her children? The old witch was definitely up to something.
“You said he just got back into the country?”
“Hmm. Yes, I think he said that. He didn’t stay long. Just asked about his uncle and the boys.” Ms. Cook took another bite of cinnamon bun as Sven walked in.
“Who asked about the boys?” He asked while pouring a cup of coffee.
Ms. Cook grinned up at him. She’d forgotten to put in her partial plate and large gaps were highlighted in her smile. “Kenton asked yesterday when he came to see us.”
Sven looked at Chastity. “That’s great. Haven’t seen him in a while. I hope Jamison gets here soon. We can knock out a few things before Kenton comes back today.”
She looked at him, brow raised. “No one said he was coming today.”
“I know, but he will. His uncle is dead and he has questions.” He looked at her meaningfully. She nodded. Sven had been Mr. Baxter's right hand for over twenty years and knew more about the deceased's family than he let on. The sound of a car door closing caught everyone’s attention.
“Kids, put your plates and bowl in the sink, and go to the family room. I’ll be in as soon as I finish my meeting.” She waved them up. Panic teased her belly, her children would not be exploited under any circumstances. “Play fair on the games and have at least one tea party with Mariah.” She gave each one a kiss on the forehead and sent them marching toward the back of the house, safely away. Inhaling, she ignored Sven’s raised brow and headed toward the office. A moment later, he followed. After Ms. Cook brought Mr. Jamison to the office, they sat down to strategize.
An hour later, they were still no further along. “If she takes this to court, there’s not a whole lot we can do about it, is there?”
“No, she won’t win. She can’t win. Mr. Baxter had every legal right to leave his money to whomever or do with it however he pleased,” Mr. Jamison said. “I’m stumped as to why she’s doing this.”
“She hated him and this is her last dig at him for ignoring her all those years.” Sven paced the floor, stopping just short of the dark paneled walls.
“So she thinks this is one way to make sure he doesn’t get what he wants?” Chastity asked.