Page 49 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
“It isn’t fair to him. We married for the insurance, which is illegal, as his uncle pointed out. The best I can do is put the blame on me, pay the insurance company, and pray they don’t prosecute him. His uncle is a deputy assistant director for the FBI, which spells DAD, which is weird. I know I’m wandering again. But I can’t have Alex prosecuted for something he did so I could get an ultrasound. All because I didn’t want to access my Leigh Benz account and trigger a search for me. Then it turned out only my accountant wouldn’t have noticed anything for days anyway.”
“You would have had to convince the county hospital you could use the Leigh Benz credit card and weren’t stealing an identity. And that still could have alerted your father-in-law to where you were. Which is the reason you are living in the guesthouse of the Preston Harmon compound, which now may be the most secure place on earth other than Fort Knox and Area 51, with both Simon Dermot and Hastings Security guarding the place.”
“But I made him lie. Integrity is everything to him. And I made Alex lie.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something about loving and cherishing until death do we part? We both knew it was temporary. I lie to everyone. I live lies. I’m not even sure I know what my own truth is. It wasn’t a big deal to me. But to a man like Alex? It must have crushed him.” Kimberly wrung her hands. “I’m a terrible person. He deserves someone like him.”
“Don’t take this wrong, but I think part of this is your pregnancy hormones. Yes, you lie. But it is always for the good. Like when you broke my freshman glass and pretended it was yours. Or when you said you broke the skylight window again when it was really Carol’s idiot boyfriend. I’ve never known you to lie about things that mattered.”
“I told Jeremy I loved him. I lied.”
“At the time, did you think you did?”
Kimberly shrugged. “I don’t know. I loved what he represented, and I didn’t mind being a trophy wife if it gave me security. I lived a lie. I lie about everything.”
“Did you lie to the FBI?”
“No.”
Candace raised a hand and counted off on her fingers. “Other than the glass, shrinking my favorite sweater, kissing the oboist when I was dating him—”
“You know about that?”
“—and claiming you lost your key when you hid it under a rock so you could get a spare, have you ever lied to me?”
“Does pretending I was sick and skipping class count?”
“Freshman English? Definitely not. That grad student was an idiot.”
“Then, no.” Kimberly hugged Candace. “But I lied when I took my vows and married Alex.”
“Then you can either come clean or make them real.”
What if making them real forces Alex to lie more?“And that is my problem.”
19
The phone rangas Alex sat in his office going over plans to improve security at Ogilvie Tower.
“This is Mr. Alexander.”
Uncle Donovan’s voice boomed over the line. “Hey, Alex, this is a courtesy call. Agents Danes and Garcia are coming in on the 11:00 a.m. flight. They want to escort your wife back to California for the funeral. They are sure Kimberly has access to something that will be the key to the case.”
“She doesn’t want to go. Can they force her to?”
“They can creatively coerce her.”
The urge to growl like a caveman swelled in his chest. “Do they know where she is?”
“Not yet. I’d like to keep Abbie out of this. Can you get Kimberly to the office at one?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks.”
Alex closed his computer. On the way out, he stopped by his father’s office. “The FBI wants Kimberly to fly out to California. If she goes, I’d like a four-person team, including Elle. Who can you spare?”
