Page 65 of Lie for a Million

A bedside lamp cast a glow over her mother’s room. Madeleine sat propped against pillows that matched the mauve silk coverlet on the bed. Her abundant hair was tousled, her eyes smudged from the makeup she’d worn earlier to go out with Louis.

Jasmine hurried to mother’s bedside. “What is it, Mama? Are you having one of your headaches?”

“No, dear.” Madeleine raked her hair back from her face. With her chiseled, almost masculine features, she was a stunning woman. It was hard to believe she was so ill. “Your phone call woke me up, that’s all. Who was it? Was it Sam?”

“Yes, it was Sam.” Even a harmless lie could be a dangerous mistake.

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing you’d be concerned about. He was calling because Charlie Grishman is dead. He needs my help finding rescuers for those poor animals. I said I’d make some calls.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. I told him I loved him.”

“You’re sure that was all?”

“I’m positive. You know that the last thing I want is for Sam—or the FBI—to show up here.”

Madeleine nodded. “That’s very wise. I’m fond of Sam. But if he gets involved with you here, I can’t guarantee his safety—or yours. You know Louis. He isn’t a trusting man. That’s how he’s managed to survive for so long.”

“Yes, I know.” How many people had Louis Divino killed—or arranged to have killed—just because he didn’t trust them or because they knew too much and were no longer useful? A shudder passed through Jasmine’s body.

She took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Why do you stay with him, Mother? He’s not a good man.”

“He’s good to me. He treats me like he loves me, which is more than I can say for your father. We have fun together. And the sex . . . oh, my!”

“Mother!”

Madeleine chuckled. “Don’t be such a prig, darling. You’re over twenty-one. And since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around, I plan to drain every drop of pleasure from the life I have left. Besides, Louis and I know we can trust each other. When I die, I’ll carry his secrets to my grave—along with a few of my own.”

In other words, he won’t have to kill you to keep you quiet.

Jasmine knew better than to speak that thought aloud. She knew her mother was involved in at least some of Louis Divino’s criminal enterprises. But aside from the overheard mention of drugs, she didn’t know which ones or how deeply Madeleine was enmeshed. She only knew that getting caught with Louis’s phone had signed her death warrant. If she were to leave and go on the run, she would be tracked down and killed. And if she stayed until her mother passed on, she would never leave the condo alive.

Madeline took a sip of mineral water from the bottle on her nightstand. “Go on back to bed, darling,” she said. “I’m going to sleep now. I’ll be fine.”

Jasmine brushed a kiss on her mother’s forehead. “All right. Call me if you need anything.”

Wide awake now, she left her mother’s room and wandered down the hall, through the parlor, and out onto the balcony. The night wind stirred her hair and raised glimmering ripples on the surface of the lake. She closed her eyes, savoring its coolness on her face. First thing tomorrow, she would call the animal rescue people she knew and give them Sam’s phone number. But she would not call Sam again, not even on the burner. And she’d be wary of accepting any calls from him. The risk was too great. Even her own mother couldn’t be trusted to keep their contact a secret.

She had to keep him safe, even if it meant that she’d never hear his voice again.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Sam got a call from the chairman of the animal rescue group the next day. They’d submitted the paperwork and were waiting for the death certificate that would permit them to move Charlie’s menagerie to safety. Molly the elephant had been cleared for a Tennessee sanctuary before Charlie made Molly’s owner a better offer. The sanctuary workers were on their way in a special truck, ready to take Molly to a new home where soft grasses, shady trees, and elephant friends would be waiting.

Jasmine had done her job well, but Sam resisted the urge to call and thank her. Last night, the caution in her voice had warned him against it. He’d sensed that something was wrong. But she’d told him nothing. Until he knew more, any interference on his part could be dangerous to them both.

For now, he owed Nick an update. He only wished he had better news. Nick deserved to hear that the case was about to be solved, not that it had become more complicated. Sitting in front of his computer, Sam made the call.

“Hi, Sam. Any news?” Nick’s cheerful greeting sounded forced. Was he in pain? Was it time to give up the investigation and go back to Abilene?

“My news can wait,” he said. “How are you?”

“Getting along. I heard about Charlie Grishman on the news.”

“I was there, hoping to tie up some loose ends. Now that he’s gone, it would be easy enough to name him as Frank’s killer and close the case. I do believe he poisoned his grandmother to get her land. But killing Frank? The facts don’t add up.”

---