Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2) (19 page)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Knox

Trinity opened the door. Tears spilled down her cheeks. A small handgun dangled from her fingers. Her shoulders sagged. She looked defeated.

“Knox.” She dragged out my name, her voice low and reverent.

“Trinity.” I scanned her for injuries, but other than her tears and puffy eyes, I didn’t see anything. “What’s going on? Why did you come here? You can’t trust Miles.”

Her gaze flicked to his, and she swallowed. “He used me. Derrick used me. It was all about the money.”

“What money?”

With unsteady fingers, she stuffed the gun into her purse. “My half of the Benton Family Trust. Miles wanted to marry me for it. Derrick wanted to keep all of it.”

I charged forward. Before I could stop myself, my hands circled Miles’s neck and I shoved him into the wall. “What the hell is she talking about?”

“Ask her. She knows everything.” His fingers clawed at my hands. “Get out of my house.”

Trinity’s hands hooked around the back my belt. “Let’s go. I need to get out of here.” I tightened my hold on Miles. “Please,” she whimpered.

I glanced over my shoulder. Her entire body shook. Her eyes were wide and pleading. “Fine.” My hands dropped from his neck, and I guided her out of the door, not bothering to shut it behind me.

She stood on the street, her head hanging down and her eyes pinched shut. “How did you find me?”

I stared down the street, trying to find a way to sugarcoat my answer. Nothing came to me, and I didn’t want to lie to her anyway. We had both been subjected to enough lies. “I installed a tracking device on your phone after you agreed to work for me. I needed to know if you were being honest with me.” I blew out a breath. “When I saw you go to Miles’s house, I followed, not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t trust him.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I should be mad at you for so many reasons right now, but I’m glad you showed up. I wanted to kill Miles and his dumb ex-wife.” She shook her head, her lips flat and her eyes dull. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost right now.”

Without a word, I edged up behind her and looped my arms around her waist. Her muscles tensed before she wilted into my embrace. I bent my head, my lips sliding along the slope of her neck and back up to her chin.

“We’ll figure it out.”

She tipped up her head, her dark eyes sizing me up, peering into my soul. “Did you know Richard Benton named me as a beneficiary of the Benton Family Trust? Did you know I have to make some claim on it before I turn twenty-five, which is in two months?”

“No.” I rested my chin on top of her head. “But now it makes more sense why the Benton family wanted you to keep the connection secret.”

She spun in my arms. “I’m sorry about last night. Don’t hate me.”

I glanced down at her, my throat tightening. “You’re forgiven. Besides, I could never hate you.” Now wasn’t the time to throw mud at each other.

She made a harsh sound in the back of her throat, her face filling with dread and regret. “No. You should be mad. I put Derrick before you just because he’s my brother, but he never earned it. Other than giving me some money and sparing a few hours of his time on occasion, he didn’t earn my loyalty. You did.”

I smiled crookedly. “I’ll forgive you if you conveniently forget I was tracking your phone.” I pressed my key fob.

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

I opened the passenger door of my car. “Get in.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as I pulled away from the curb.

“Back to your place.”

She leaned forward, rubbing her hands together in front of the heat vent. “I was supposed to meet Derrick at his house an hour ago.”

“Cancel it.”

Her pupils flared. “Why? I need to confront him more than ever. According to Miles, he wanted to keep my identity secret because he didn’t want me to claim my share of the trust.” She slumped in her seat, her chin resting against her chest.

“You’re not meeting with him alone. We’re hiring an attorney to get to the bottom of this. You can’t trust anything Derrick says. Archer has people on retainer. They’ll need to do a conflicts check, but we can probably get them to set up something as early as tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so.” A bitter laugh spilled from my mouth. “Derrick will drag his feet as long as possible. He’ll take this right down to the wire.”

“No. He won’t because we’ll take your story straight to the media and he knows it. The only thing worse than revealing his father had an illegitimate daughter would be that he tried to screw you out of your inheritance.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her shoulder against mine. “You know what’s crazy? I don’t even think I want the money. He could have convinced me to give it up. I just wanted to have him in my life. Maybe I should tell him he can keep the money.”

“No,” I said, my voice echoing inside the car.

Her eyelids unsealed, and she stared at me, bewildered. “Why not?”

“You shouldn’t give up anything until you know everything. Maybe your dad left a message for you. Once you understand your rights and what the intent of the trust was, then you can do whatever you want, but don’t make a half-cocked decision.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” She sucked her lips into her mouth, and her voice dropped. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She turned her legs toward me. “Do you remember the night when you found me looking through your files?” Her voiced trailed off, and she picked at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt.

“Yes. I think you tried to steal a couple of them.”

A wobbly smile spread across her face. “Well, I found a file with my mom’s name on it. I didn’t get a chance to look at it. Why were you researching her?”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “What is your mom’s name again?”

“Anna Jones.”

I wiped my hand across my lips, hesitating for a beat. “I didn’t realize she was your mom.”

“No.” She glanced out the window. “Probably not. The name is pretty generic. Can I look at the file?”

“Sure.” I pulled into the parking spot across the street from her townhome. “There’s not much to see. I did a pretty basic background check on her. Nothing too invasive. Apparently, she worked in the Benton household for six months when she was eighteen. They terminated her employment and paid her twenty thousand dollars. I couldn’t find much else about her after that.” I squeezed her hand. “I thought she might know what Miles was using to blackmail Derrick Benton.”

“I guess you were right.” Her fingers closed around the door handle. “Did you ever find any traces of her?”

“She hasn’t used her social security number in over a decade. She’s never popped up on social media.” I rubbed my hand down the side of my face. “Honestly, I didn’t spend much time researching her because I concluded she was dead within minutes of scanning her background check. It seemed like a waste of time and resources.”

She blanched, and a lungful of air wheezed between her lips. Tears brimmed in her eyes, overflowing down her cheeks. “My uncle thinks she’s dead, too.” She swallowed as if she was searching for courage. “He came to visit me this morning. That’s why I went to Miles’s house. I thought I could get him to tell me everything.”

I reached across the console and pulled her into my arms. “It sounds like you did, but you shouldn’t have confronted him alone.”

Her chest heaved. “Not really. He told me about the trust and my brother, but I didn’t get anything to help you find out who hired Miles.”

“Shh.” I smoothed my hand up and down the back of her hair. “One thing at a time. First, we’ll deal with your brother. Then we can worry about Miles.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

Darcey Benton

I sat in a small artsy wine bar with exposed brick walls, round heating ducts spanning the length of the ceiling and wooden tables without tablecloths. I wore a black, blunt cut wig and a long black jacket with the collar popped. Luckily, I was able to secure a seat next to the window, which gave me a prime view of Trinity Jones’s townhome.

Apparently, on Wednesday nights, the bar hosted aspiring musicians. A steady flow of melodramatic idiots with less than mediocre voices stood on a small stage, singing about hurt feelings, broken hearts and a bunch of other nonsense. The sheer silliness of it almost prompted me to abandon my plan, but I didn’t have a choice.

Tomorrow would be too late. Derrick had caved to that opportunistic bitch’s plans. So instead, I concentrated on the clogged traffic on the street and the river of people pouring in and out of the front door.

I should’ve eliminated my husband’s bastard child long ago. Forcing Trinity’s mother out of the house with a twenty thousand dollar check without making her take a pregnancy test was the biggest miscalculation I’d ever made. At the time, I thought I’d got off cheap. I would’ve paid ten times that amount to make my husband’s child mistress disappear.

By the time I found out about the pregnancy, it was too late. For nearly ten years, Anna Jones drifted around the country, never staying anywhere for more than six months at a time. Finally, she settled down in that godforsaken town in Texas, and I lured her to her death with the promise of a huge monetary settlement in exchange for signing a non-disclosure agreement. I thought killing Anna Jones would be the end of the story.

Instead, my piece of shit husband suddenly found God when he became sick, and begged his son to find Trinity and bring her into the fold. My spineless son did exactly that. Fortunately, my husband’s health deteriorated quickly, and I succeeded in persuading Derrick to keep the details of the trust private. He appeased his guilt by tossing money in Trinity’s direction on occasion and renting a townhome owned by a Benton subsidiary to her at a reduced rate. Until recently, I was satisfied knowing that the money-grubbing whore’s daughter would never get access to the Benton Family Trust.

I had earned every penny of that money with blood, sweat, and tears. I overlooked my husband’s repeated indiscretions, ill-treatment, and forty years of all around hell. I’d never willingly hand over half of the Benton family fortune to some no name bastard without an ounce of class or breeding. That money belonged to my son and my grandkids. Everything would’ve been perfect if Trinity Jones heeded my warnings, and kept her mouth closed, but she hadn’t.

So I waited, watching for the lights to turn off inside Trinity’s townhome. By the end of the night, I’d finally be rid of her once and for all. I’d kill her just like I did her mother. I couldn’t hire someone else to do my dirty work. It was too big of a risk.

Derrick would go into a rage when he found I’d killed Trinity. He was a sentimentalist, and for some unknown reason, he had a soft spot for Trinity. This time tomorrow, Derrick would be having a tantrum rivaling that of a spoiled child, but I didn’t care. I was doing this for him. Sooner or later, he’d understand that.

At ten o’clock in the evening, the lights in Trinity’s townhome dimmed. I lingered for another two hours, ordering enough drinks not to raise any flags or trigger anyone’s memory. For the tenth time that night, I checked the syringe in my pocket loaded with potassium chloride. Within minutes of injecting her, Trinity’s heart would beat out of control and then stop functioning altogether. The coroner would rule sudden cardiac arrest as the cause of her death. And the nightmare that started over twenty-five years ago would finally be over.

With my head down, I slipped out of the restaurant, darted across the street, and pulled the spare key to Trinity’s home from my coat pocket.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

Trinity

My head pounded from crying and not just in one area. It was the whole damn thing from the top of my head to the bottom of my jaw. Even my scalp hurt. I rolled onto my side, but that only increased the dull throbbing in my head. It was official. This had been one of the worst days of my life.

My emotions were all over the place. This morning I’d hopped out of bed determined to find the truth, then by mid-afternoon everything had exploded. The truth didn’t seem so valuable any longer. I didn’t know what I would’ve done without Knox. He hired an attorney to represent me who somehow finagled a meeting with Derrick and his attorney tomorrow evening. Then he carried me to bed and held me for hours while I’d wept over my mother, my relationship with Derrick, and the overall chaotic state of my life. Finally, I’d fallen asleep, but now I was wide-awake again.

Knox looped his arm around my waist, yanking my back flush against his chest. “What’s wrong?”

I twisted in his arms so I could see his face. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. His eyes were heavy-lidded, yet beaming with love. His lips were soft, almost gentle looking. And at that moment, it hit me with the weight of a ton of bricks. I was meant to be with Knox. That explained the instant attraction. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my mother had put Knox in my path to take care of me during this time.

“I’m just thinking about my mother. It kills me that I’ve spent the last fourteen years being mad at her for abandoning me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” I leaned into him, inhaling his spicy scent. “Did I tell you how lucky I am to have found you?”

His gaze focused on my lips, his hand slid up my waist, curving around the back of my neck and his warm mouth grazed mine, sliding dreamily back and forth, turning me into knots within seconds.

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmured against my mouth before deepening the kiss. His tongue breached the seam of my lips, moving against mine. I pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

His fingers slipped under my shirt, caging me with his strong arms, and my breath shortened. “You need to sleep.”

I raked my teeth over my lower lip. “I need you more.”

Shaking his head, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Not now. Tell me more about your mom.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite memory of her?”

I rolled off him on to my side, bracing my head in my hand. “She took me to see The Nutcracker every year. I think I already told you that.”

He nodded, his lips curling up at the corners. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, so anyway, until I was eight years old, we floated around a lot.” Warmth radiated through my chest as I recalled her bright smile and tinkling laugh. She was so beautiful. I couldn’t believe she was dead. “Sometimes we lived in a big city and sometimes we lived in a tiny town, and The Nutcracker would be some low-budget, no-name production in a school gym. When I turned six, she promised me we’d go to New York City that year. All year, I did favors for neighbors, and we collected our spare coins in a jar. Then she told me we couldn’t go because her car broke down and she used the money for repairs. We ended up at some free show of The Nutcracker put on by three- and four-year-olds.”

“What happened?”

“Obviously, I was a little upset,” I confirmed.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Just a little?”

I snorted. “I threw a tantrum in the parking lot and pouted the entire ride home.”

He grinned. “I can see you in the back seat, arms crossed, and your nose in the air. I bet you were a cute kid.”

I smiled back. “Not so much. My freckles were much more noticeable back then, and my mom dressed me in clothes two sizes too big hoping they’d last longer.”

He tapped me on the tip of my nose. “Still cute.”

I rolled my eyes, but it didn’t stop my insides from warming. “When we got home, I ran to my room, intending to lock her out, but when I opened the door, there was the most beautiful sugar plum fairy costume on my bed with matching ballet shoes.”

“What happened?”

“I put it on, of course, and we stayed up until the middle of the night baking gingerbread cookies. It was the best Christmas Eve ever.” I yawned. “It’s weird—looking back, I can’t believe how young she was. She had me when she was nineteen.”

He brushed his lips across mine. “Are you tired?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for asking about her. It helps to remember the good times. I tried to push all of that out of my mind so I didn’t miss her so much.”

“Glad I could help.” He pulled me into his arms. “Close your eyes and try to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”