Deadly Deception Read online

  The door opened, and she looked up to see a familiar face, Michael Porter. Another man she did not recognize walked in with him. Michael and the stranger took a seat on the couch facing her.

  She stared at Michael’s companion, tilting her head to one side. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

  “No, ma’am,” the man said.

  Mara scrutinized him, noting his dark wavy hair with touches of gray at the temples. His tanned complexion made her think he might be a golfer or someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His impeccable dark-blue pinstriped suit, dark-blue silk tie, and expensive Italian loafers presented him as a man with good taste and the means to satisfy such taste. His dark eyes appeared serious but friendly. The crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes hinted a sense of humor or that his age might be more than what she originally thought.

  “I’m usually pretty good with faces,” she said crossing her legs.

  “You may have seen me. My name is David Ruiz. I am the—”

  “President’s chief of staff.” Mara finished his sentence, pleased with herself.

  “That’s right.” He grinned, the crow’s feet deepening.

  Crossing her arms, Mara said, “Interesting. What could you possibly want with me?”

  “Ms. Byrne, President Riley would like to have a word with you.”

  The day’s event switched from strange to absurd. Mara’s face went slack and her mouth opened slightly. It took her a few seconds to regain composure. “Why on Earth would the president want to talk to me? Why go to such trouble? Why not just call me? Is he a fan? Does he want an autograph?”

  “I’ll let him explain his reasons to you. My job is to prepare you.”

  A wry smile crept across her face. “Oh, you wanted to make sure I don’t pass out or gush all over him.”

  Observing the amused look on Michael’s face, her brows disappeared under her bangs when he turned to Ruiz with a wide grin. “I warned you.”

  Five

  Alex sat at his desk staring at his cell phone, willing it to ring. His tenth attempt failed. Earlier, he had called Matt Middleton and left an urgent message for him to call back immediately. He needed Matt to excuse him from testifying at the trial indefinitely.

  Matt and Alex had been friends for years. They grew up together. Alex’s father had an affair that caused his mother to fall into a deep depression, ultimately leading to her suicide. Unable to forgive his father and having no desire to be part of his life, Alex went to live with Matt and his family. At the time, as a senior in high school, he was just a few months from graduating and celebrating his eighteenth birthday. Alex’s father didn’t contest the move. In fact, he made no attempts to win back his son’s love.

  After graduation, the two friends moved from central Indiana to southern California to live their dreams. Matt, a prominent attorney in the Riverside area, and Alex, a respected private investigator, fulfilled their ambitions and remained close like brothers throughout the years. As for his father, Alex never forgave Joseph Strange and had no desire to be part of his life. That chapter closed forever.

  Janet tapped the door to his office and leaned on the frame. “Any word?”

  “No. Not yet.” Alex checked his watch. “What are you still doing here? Go home.”

  “I wanted to wait around to see if there’s anything I can do.”

  Alex shook his head. “If I need you, I’ll call.”

  Janet shrugged. “Okay. But promise you’ll call when you learn anything. Promise me.”

  “I will,” he said as he waved her out, watching her leave. A moment later, Alex heard the outside door close. He put his head in his hands. Where are you Mara? He jumped. The buzzing phone caught him by surprise. He snatched it and asked, “Matt?”

  “No, Alex, this isn’t Matt,” a sultry-voiced woman on the other end of the line replied.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s a pity about Mara. I bet you’re worried sick.”

  The breath caught in Alex’s throat. His mind raced as he tried to identify the woman’s voice. Why was she asking about Mara? He sucked in a deep breath. “Who is this?”

  “Alex, you must find Mara. She’s in danger.”

  “How do you know this? Please, who are you?” Alex held the phone out to read the display. The number was listed as private.

  “You have to find her before it’s too late,” the woman said.

  Alex felt the color drain from his face. “Damn it! Who are you?” Not a sound came from the phone. “Hello? Are you still there?” Alex stared at the dark display unable to believe what he had heard. Mara was in trouble, and he had no idea where she could be. If the woman’s intentions were truthful, then he had to do something this minute. Instead, he leapt from his seat and stood motionless, not sure what to do. Years as a private investigator, and now at the worst possible moment, his mind registered nothing.

  His cell phone buzzed in his hand, and he dropped it as if it were hot lava. Realizing what he had done, he retrieved it and looked at the display. This time he recognized the number.

  Breathless Alex said, “Matt, thanks for calling me back. Listen, I have a huge favor to ask. Actually, I have two.”

  “Man, make up your mind. If I give you any more favors, you’ll owe me more than you can afford.”

  “I need to be excused from testifying tomorrow, and I need the flight manifest of Flight 1286 out of Ontario, CA, bound for Little Rock.”

  “Why? This sounds serious. Are you all right?” Matt asked without humor.

  “It’s serious. Mara’s missing. She never arrived in Little Rock this afternoon. I need to find her. She may be in serious trouble.”

  “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Just do what you can. I’m not going to be there tomorrow. If the judge issues a bench warrant for me, so be it, but I’ve got to find her.” Alex tried to pull his thoughts together without sounding panicked.

  “Okay. Okay. Take it easy,” Matt said. “I’ll do what I can about court. I’m going to have to pull a few strings to get the manifest though. They don’t give those out to just anybody. Privacy laws and such make it next to impossible. Just hang tight.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Matt.” Alex hung his head and his chest heaved, filling with the painful realization that the woman he loved could be in danger, again. She had been through so much: her husband’s death, the letter, being kidnapped, the chase to find the woman who wrote the letter, and now this.

  Alex picked up a framed photo of Mara and him at the beach, their heads together with the Pacific Ocean and a blazing sunset behind them. That had been a wonderful day. Mara smiled widely, but he could still see the pain in her eyes. He knew she would never love him the way she had loved Thomas, both a good man and a wonderful husband. Alex had no illusions about his place in Mara’s heart. He only wanted to make her happy. Alex rubbed his eyes, forcing away the tiny beads of moisture forming in the corners. I have to find her. He sat the picture back down on his desk.

  The walls closed in. His chest tightened. Alex craved fresh air. He stood and yanked his jacket off his chair. He almost missed seeing the piece of paper fall out of the side pocket, drifting to the floor like a feather floating in slow motion. It landed next to his feet. He stooped to pick up the paper and unfolded it. Inside, the typewritten note read, “Time for a debt to be paid. Come to the Riverside Inn, Room 222 at 11 p.m.” Alex turned the note over to see if there was a signature. Where in the hell did this come from? Then he remembered the man bumping into him outside the hallway of the courtroom. He must have slipped it into my pocket.

  He sprinted for the door. As reckless as it was to go to the Riverside Inn alone, he knew he had no choice.

  Six

  President Richard Riley buzzed into the room commanding attention, charged and ready for action like a current of electricity.

  Ruiz and Michael rose together.

  Motioning for them to sit, the president took the chair beside M
ara. He crossed his legs and placed his palms lightly on his knees. Nodding to Ruiz and Michael, they rose and exited the room, closing the door without a sound.

  The president waited a couple beats before he addressed Mara. “Ms. Byrne, let me apologize for the abrupt way you were brought here. I know you must be angry and confused, but I promise I will answer all of your questions.”

  With her arms crossed at her chest, Mara stared back, her lips drawing into a thinner line. “I’m sorry; but you don’t know how I feel.”

  “I think I have a pretty good idea. You’re thinking that here you are again, taken against your will. In a lifetime, most people never experience what you have once, and now you’ve experienced it twice.”

  She considered his words. How does he know this?

  “The difference between now and what happened to you before, is that I have every intention of allowing you to walk out of here. I will provide transportation back to Little Rock or wherever you wish to go. All I ask is that you hear me out.”

  “Fine. I’ll hear you out,” she said. “But I’d like to call my family and let them know I’m safe.”

  “I will allow you to call after we finish our discussion.”

  Again, her lips tightened into a thin line. “Go on.”

  “A few years ago, Dr. Jessica Foster made a groundbreaking discovery. Millions of lives can be changed by this discovery.”

  Mara felt the muscles in her face go slack. She never expected to hear that name again, especially from the president.

  “The letter you found in your husband’s belongings held clues to the location of this discovery. Dr. Foster knew what she found would be the target of ruthless people. People who wanted the discovery kept secret, hidden away from the world, at least until they were ready for it to be revealed. They intend to exploit the discovery for their own gain.”

  Thoughts of the letter made her stomach churn. Mara’s eyes glazed over as she stared at the floor and wrung her hands. The walls closed in on her, but she fought against the claustrophobic tightness, and breathed deep, filling her lungs with as much air as they could hold.

  The president continued. “Dr. Foster hid the information in the letter so if anything happened to her before she could finalize the research, its location would be safe. Only three people knew how to decipher the code in the letter. Your husband was one.” The president paused and then said, “Ms. Byrne, I believe your husband may have been murdered. I believe his death was orchestrated as a precaution to prevent the location from being discovered.”

  “No, you’re wrong.” Mara’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard. “His death was caused by an abdominal aneurysm.” Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered that horrible day. The day her world had changed forever. The man she loved lay on the gurney, without color, cold, and waxy. Her mind flashed to the keys she had found, the set that led to the safe deposit box and the discovery of the letter.

  “That may be true, but after you hear me out, I think you may question the cause of his death.”

  “Who else can decipher the code?” Mara asked softly.

  “Dr. Foster, of course, and a colleague she worked with from Oxford University. Dr. Rupert Hawkes worked directly with her on an archeological project in Guatemala. It’s where she made the discovery.”

  “So exactly what does this have to do with me? Why did you drag me here?”

  The president rose and walked over to the glossy mahogany bar. From the beverage refrigerator beneath the bar, he pulled out two chilled bottles of water. Walking back to Mara, he held one of the bottles out. When she didn’t take it, he placed the bottle on the table in front of her. He sat on the couch this time, opened his bottle, and leaned forward to respond.

  “A month ago, Dr. Hawkes was killed in an automobile accident. The car he drove ran off an embankment near Oxfordshire, England. He died instantly. Then, a few days ago, Dr. Foster disappeared. I’ve had people diligently searching, but we’ve found no trace of her.” He took a long pull of cold water. “I fear the worst.”

  “I still fail to see what you need me for. I don’t know the whereabouts of Dr. Foster.”

  “I realize that, Ms. Byrne, but what you do have is knowledge of the letter. You read the letter. Studied it. I’m sure you could recite it word for word.”

  Taking the bottle of water and unscrewing the cap, she took a sip. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t remember the exact details of the letter, and Dr. Foster burned the original.”

  “Yes, she told me.”

  Mara frowned. “You’ve talked to Dr. Foster about the letter?”

  “Yes. I’ve been negotiating with her in hopes that we can come to an agreement in exchange for the location of her discovery.”

  Mara took another swig. She closed her eyes to savor the refreshing liquid. Her face reddened slightly when she realized the president continued to stare at her.

  He smiled and put his bottle to his lips, taking another drink. “Here’s my problem. Two of the people who could decipher the letter are dead, your husband and Dr. Hawkes, and unless I find Dr. Foster, the location of her discovery will forever remain a mystery. I cannot take the chance that others will claim the discovery first.”

  “You know the old saying,” Mara said without looking up.

  “What’s that?”

  “Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead.” She smiled.

  Richard Riley nodded. “I’m afraid Benjamin Franklin knew exactly what he was talking about.” Changing the subject, he said, “You must be hungry. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

  Mara sighed. “I just want to go home.”

  “Soon, Ms. Byrne, soon.” He rose and waved his hand to the door.

  Hesitant at first, Mara finally stood to join him. She glared at him with a stern face and said flatly, “I didn’t vote for you.”

  A few chuckles followed by an approving nod for her honesty, he waved her toward the door. “That’s okay, not everyone did. Let’s eat.”

  Seven

  Mara and the president now sat at a grand table located in another room from where they had first met. This room was as richly furnished and immaculate as the other.

  A bald Asian man sporting a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap walked into the room carrying a trayful of domed dishes. Mara smiled at the comical man, the cap practically hiding his eyes. He lacked the hair to keep it in place. The man sported a wide grin and his shoulders drooped slightly. His short strides, however, were efficient and graceful. Handsome almond eyes sparkled with joy. Mara estimated the man’s age somewhere between forty and fifty.

  “Hello, sir, how are you this evening?” The compact man said in near perfect English.

  “I’m fine, Dodger,” the president said. “Thank you for asking.” Inclining his head toward Mara, the president initiated the introductions. “This is Ms. Byrne. I want you to take good care of her. Give her anything she requests.”

  “Of course,” he said, placing the tray in front of Mara and removing the dome. After Dodger placed another in front of the president, he bowed slightly to Mara. “It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am. Please, if this is not to your liking, allow me to bring you something else.”

  Mara stared at her plate in disbelief. Her favorite meal steamed before her, hot and very fragrant. “How did you know this is my favorite dish?”

  “It is my job to know what pleases the people I serve.” Dodger smiled and bowed again.

  An enormous plate of shrimp Alfredo simmered. Alongside it, garlic toast and Caesar salad completed the serving. She stole a glimpse at the president’s plate, which held a lumberjack-sized rib eye steak grilled to perfection; a huge baked potato loaded with butter, sour cream, and chives; and a colorful garden salad. Mara put a hand to her stomach, trying to silence the rumble. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the aroma fill her lungs. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the beautiful plate Dodger delivered brought her senses to life. She w
aited, and when she saw the president reach for his knife and fork, she followed suit.

  She swirled some noodles around a shrimp and put the first sinful bite into her mouth. Her fork hung in midair. With eyes closed, she slowly savored the contents and let the flavors of the rich creamy sauce swim in her mouth. The chef cooked the splendid noodles to perfection, and the shrimp tasted so tender and fresh. Then as if her arm grew too heavy, she sat her fork down abruptly.

  “Is it to your liking?” the president asked.

  “It’s fine,” she said looking down at the napkin in her lap.

  “You must be starving. Please eat.”

  “No. Not until you let me call my family. I have to let them know I’m okay. This isn’t right. I don’t care if you are the president. You can’t treat me like this.”

  “Treat you how? Provide you a perfectly delicious meal?”

  She threw the napkin beside her plate. “Look, can we cut the crap? All this,” she waved her hand over her plate, “is not necessary. Just tell me what you want and let me go back to my life. Please.”

  “All right, as you wish. I’m sorry. I thought we could have an affable dinner before we got on with the business at hand.”

  “I’m not here because I chose to be.” She pointed a finger from herself to him several times. “We are not friends. So, the sooner we get down to business, as you put it, the sooner I can get on with my life. Unless you plan to keep me locked up here forever.”

  “Of course not, I never intended to keep you here any longer than necessary, and as soon as I get the information I need, you can be on your way.” The president put down his fork.

  “What information? The letter? I don’t have the letter. It’s gone, permanently. So, as you can see, I can’t help you. End of story. Period. The end. You could have just called me to find that out. Dragging me off a plane in the middle of nowhere was not necessary. How fortuitous for you that it had to make an unscheduled landing.”