Confessions of the Heart Page 17

  “Are you telling me that Gabby knew how to arrange the crime scene to make it look like a suicide?” Anna asked incredulously. “She was only thirteen years old!”

  “She’s her mother’s daughter,” Ben said, and a chill ran up Anna’s spine. “But it’s possible Katherine really did take her own life.”

  “You don’t believe it, do you? And neither does Mendoza. He suspects you did something to the crime scene, but he’s never been able to prove it. And that’s why he doesn’t like you.”

  “That’s only one of many reasons why Mendoza doesn’t like me,” Ben said dryly. “He was in love with Katherine for years.”

  My God, Anna thought. What kind of unnatural allure had that woman possessed that had caused everyone who crossed her path to fall in love with her?

  “The ambulance took Katherine to a level one trauma unit in San Antonio,” Ben was saying. “By the time I got there, Gwen was already in the emergency waiting room. One of the doctors came out to inform us that Katherine was clinically brain dead and was being kept alive on life support. A few hours later, someone else came out to talk to us about organ donation. They had Katherine’s name in the database, but they still wanted permission from the next of kin.”

  “And you gave it to them.”

  “Yes, although Gwen was dead-set against it.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, but something dark came into his eyes. “She had her reasons.”

  Anna drew a deep breath. Now it was her turn. “Did you ever hear from any of the transplant recipients?”

  He shook his head. “No. But the hospital told me that someone was waiting for one of her kidneys.”

  “What about her heart?”

  “I don’t know if anyone got her heart.”

  “Someone did,” Anna said quietly. “Someone did get her heart.”

  “What?” He turned to stare at her for a moment and then his gaze dropped to her chest as if he was picturing the scar beneath her pajamas. Anna saw something dawn in his eyes that looked very much like horror. “You? You have her heart?”

  When she nodded, he rose from the bed and backed away from her. Anna had tried to prepare herself for his reaction, his shock, but she hadn’t been ready for this. He couldn’t stand to be near her. Even in the dark, she could see his revulsion. It made her want to curl up and die.

  But she was nothing if not a survivor. She rose to her knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he cut in coldly. He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at her in disbelief. “Why did you come here? What do you want?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want anything. Just…your understanding.”

  “Understanding?” He glared at her. “I can’t believe you did this. Why the deception? Why not just tell the truth?”

  “Because both the donor’s and the transplant recipient’s identities are kept anonymous for a reason. It’s to protect all parties involved. When you didn’t respond to my letter, I assumed you didn’t want to meet me—”

  “Wait a minute. What letter?”

  “All transplant recipients are encouraged to write a letter to the donor’s family. It’s delivered anonymously through the hospital. When you didn’t respond, I assumed you wanted no further communication.”

  “I never received your letter,” he said. “But if you assumed I didn’t want to meet with you, why come here? Why force it?”

  “I wasn’t going to force it,” Anna tried to explain. “I didn’t tell you who I was because I wanted to respect your privacy. I didn’t want the meeting to be awkward for you, or to…dredge up painful memories. All I wanted to do was meet Katherine’s family. To find out about her life.”

  “Why?”

  The word was an indictment, and he’d already found her guilty. Anna wasn’t sure what she could say to make things right. “I know it’s hard for anyone who hasn’t been in my position to understand, but it was something I had to do. I had to find out whether or not I deserved Katherine’s heart.”

  Ben said nothing to that. Anna thought he must still be in a state of shock.

  He lifted his hands to his face. “My God. You have her heart. You of all people…”

  “I know.” Anna closed her eyes briefly. “But I’m not her, Ben. A heart is just muscle and tissue. It has nothing to do with who I am. I don’t have her soul.”

  He lowered his hands from his face, as if something had just occurred to him. “But what if you do?”

  It was Anna’s turn to stare in shock. “What?”

  “What if there is something of her inside you? Some…essence of who she was. What she was.”

  “That’s insane. I’m still the same woman I was before the surgery.”

  “Are you?”

  Anna put a hand to her mouth, trying to quell the terrible emotions churning inside her. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been before the surgery. She’d changed, so much so she hardly recognized herself at times. But it had nothing to do with Katherine’s heart. It couldn’t.

  “How do you explain this thing between us?” Ben demanded. “From the moment I first met you it was as if I already knew you. We had a connection. You can’t deny that.”

  “But it’s not because of her heart,” Anna said desperately. “It can’t be.”

  “But how do you know? How can I know?” He moved to the bed and took her by the shoulders, staring deep into her eyes. “How do I know you won’t eventually become her?”

  “That’s crazy—”

  “Is it? She was the most cunningly vicious woman I ever met. How do I know that she didn’t somehow orchestrate this whole thing? That making me fall in love with you was part of the game, her final move?”

  Anna went very still on the outside, but her heart— Katherine’s heart—suddenly pounded in terror against her chest. “What are you saying, Ben?”

  “Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it?”

  And then, as she stared up into his eyes, the revelation hit her. She gasped in shock, in denial, in gut-wrenching horror. “No,” she whispered. “No…” But she could see the truth in Ben’s eyes.

  Katherine Sprague and Scorpio were one and the same woman.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Anna watched Ben slip silently through the French doors and disappear into the shadows on the balcony. She didn’t try to get him to stay. She knew why he couldn’t. Knew why he couldn’t look at her, touch her, couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her.

  She had Katherine’s heart.

  Scorpio’s heart.

  Anna put a hand to her chest and felt the steady rhythm of her heart. Her heart, she tried to tell herself.

  But what if Ben was right? What if some essence of Katherine had been transplanted along with her heart? What if Anna now possessed some of the dead woman’s cruelty, her cunning? Her psychopathic urge to kill?

  How about it, Anna? Had any strange cravings since your surgery?

  Hays’s taunt suddenly came back to Anna and she realized she’d completely forgotten about Laurel’s concern that he might be trying to find her. Her ex-husband’s obsession—if that’s what it was—suddenly seemed the least of Anna’s worries.

  She had Katherine’s heart. Scorpio’s heart.

  The heart of a serial killer beat inside her chest, and Ben would never be able to look at her in the same way again.

  He hated her, you know. My mother. He despised her. He wanted her dead…he’ll want you dead, too, when he finds out.

  It was Gabby’s words tormenting her now, and Anna paced the small confines of the room, bombarded by self-doubts. Consumed with fear. But she wasn’t afraid for herself any longer. She was afraid, suddenly, for everyone around her.

  “How do I know you won’t eventually become her?”

  BEN MELTED into the shadows on the balcony, leaning his head against the wall as he squeezed his eyes closed. Anna had Katherine’s heart. Scorpio’s heart.

  He
put a fist to his head as he tried to think what to do about that.

  He’d handled the situation badly. He knew that. He’d made all sorts of baseless accusations and bizarre leaps of logic. Katherine was dead. She couldn’t come back. Not in any form. A heart couldn’t hold memory, couldn’t retain the essence of its human host. Once removed from the body, it became merely an organ. Muscle and tissue, as Anna had said.

  But…what about the attraction between him and Anna? The instant connection? From the moment Ben had set eyes on Anna it was as if he knew her, as if he’d been waiting his whole life for her. Could all that be just a coincidence, some strange twist of fate?

  Or was it more diabolical than that? Had Katherine somehow arranged before her death for Anna to receive her heart? Had she planned the whole thing, knowing that Anna would come to San Miguel to meet her family, anticipating that she and Ben would fall in love…and that his finding out about her heart would be the cruelest joke of all?

  That was insane, and he knew it. Katherine had been evil, but she couldn’t predict what the future would hold. She hadn’t possessed any supernatural powers. Just cunning and cruelty and a bloodlust that had made her the most vicious killer Ben had ever come across as a cop.

  And now Anna had her heart.

  Anna had her heart, and whether Ben wanted to admit it or not, there were similarities between the two women. Both possessed an extraordinary beauty. Both were clever and deceptive. And he’d been fooled by both of them.

  He spotted one of Mendoza’s men making his rounds and Ben pressed himself against the wall, not wanting to get caught outside of Anna’s room. The last thing he needed tonight was to be hauled off to jail.

  He glanced toward Anna’s room. He wanted to go back inside and somehow make things right between them, but knowing what he now knew, Ben wasn’t at all sure things could ever be right again. He wasn’t sure he could ever look at her in the same way, but the one thing he did know was that he would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.

  She might have Katherine’s heart, but she was still Anna. And he was still in love with her.

  Someone had tried to kill her earlier, and Ben was starting to have a bad feeling that maybe he wasn’t the only one who knew whose heart beat inside her chest.

  ANNA BARELY SLEPT at all that night, and the next morning, she rose from bed groggy and exhausted. She showered and dressed, then glanced around the tiny room. She didn’t have the foggiest idea of what to do with herself for the rest of the day. Her car wouldn’t be ready until Tuesday. Maybe she should take Mendoza’s advice and go back to Houston as soon as possible. She still wasn’t certain she would be any safer there, but at least she wouldn’t run the risk of running into Ben.

  The memory of his disgust tore at Anna’s fragile resolve. She didn’t want to fall apart. Not now. Not when she needed to remain strong and in control. She needed the old Anna more than ever now.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she opened it to find Margarete outside with fresh towels and sheets draped across her arm.

  “Should I come back later to clean your room?” she wanted to know. Her dark gaze flicked over Anna’s shoulder as if she were expecting to find someone else in Anna’s room.

  “No, it’s okay,” Anna said quickly. “I’ll just wait out on the balcony. The fresh air will do me good.”

  “As you wish.”

  Anna stepped out on the balcony and then glanced over her shoulder. Margarete was still in the doorway watching her, evidently waiting for her to vacate the room completely before she began tidying up.

  The woman was an enigma, Anna decided, as she found a chair in the shade and sat down. But then so many people in San Miguel seemed to have some sort of mystery about them. And one of them had tried to kill her.

  She shivered as her gaze scanned the grounds. She saw Acacia talking to one of the police officers, but Ben was nowhere in sight. She hadn’t expected to see him today. It wouldn’t surprise her if she never saw him again, but the thought made her unbearably sad. It was true they’d known each other for only a few short days, but it didn’t seem that way. Anna felt as if she’d been waiting her whole life for a man like Ben.

  A breeze drifted along the balcony, carrying a breath of coolness and a hint of rain. Anna could hear Acacia’s throaty laughter from the grounds below and the more distant drone of a lawn mower. The sounds were peaceful, innocent. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She was so exhausted, she could almost be lulled to sleep.

  There was another sound, too. The faint tinkle of a piano. Acacia must be giving a lesson, Anna thought drowsily.

  And then she heard Acacia’s laughter again.

  Anna’s eyes flew open. She rose from her chair and looked over the railing. Acacia was still on the grounds flirting with the police officer. She couldn’t be giving a lesson….

  The sound wasn’t coming from the music room below, Anna suddenly realized, but from farther down the balcony. A door in the other wing had been left ajar, and she could see the sheer curtain stirring gently in the breeze.

  She turned again toward the grounds. Acacia and the officer were still down there, well within shouting distance, as was Margarete.

  Anna edged along the balcony toward the open doorway. She only wanted to glance into the room, but she wasn’t sure she had the nerve to advance much farther. Not alone. For all she knew the person who had tried to kill her was inside that room, luring her with the music, waiting to cut out her heart.

  A grisly thought for such a sunny morning, Anna decided. She glanced around to make sure the cop was still visible, still within earshot. He glanced up and saw her then and started walking across the grounds toward her.

  “Is everything okay?” he called up.

  “Yes, I think so.” She paused. “Could you just wait right there for a moment?”

  He frowned up at her. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ms. Sebastian?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just…please wait there for a moment.” She turned and hurried along the balcony. The music was definitely coming from the hotel room. She paused just outside the doorway, straining to see inside.

  A stray gust of wind stirred the curtains and lifted a piece of paper lying on the balcony. Anna caught the torn photograph before it blew away. And when she turned it over, she drew in a sharp breath, the blood in her veins going icy cold. It was her wedding photo. Hays had been cut out, and a crude heart with a jagged line running up the middle had been drawn on Anna’s chest.

  She glanced back down at the cop. Acacia had joined him, and they were chatting again. When she saw Anna staring at them, a tiny, knowing smiled curled her lips.

  Anna hurried back along the balcony to her own room. “Margarete?”

  The older woman was making the bed. She turned when she heard her name. “Yes?”

  “The man in the other wing. Mr. Carter, you called him. What does he look like?”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Just tell me what he looks like,” Anna said impatiently. “Tall, short, thin, heavy. What?”

  Margarete paused. “He’s not tall,” she finally said. “Under six feet. Thin, but muscular. Dark hair cut very short. Blue eyes.”

  Hays. He was here.

  “Could you come with me for a minute? Please,” Anna said when the woman hesitated. “It’ll only take a moment.”

  Reluctantly, Margarete followed her along the balcony to the open doorway. The music was still playing.

  “There isn’t a piano in that room, is there?” Anna asked.

  “It must be the radio,” Margarete said. She moved past Anna and glanced into the room. “Mr. Carter? Is everything okay?”

  No answer.

  Margarete took a step into the room. “Mr. Carter?”

  “You didn’t see him leave this morning?” Anna asked uneasily.

  “No.”

  Margarete’s curiosity seemed to overcome her then, and she walked into the room, glancing around. “I’ll
check the bathroom to see if he needs fresh towels,” she murmured.

  While Margarete went into the bathroom, Anna glanced around the bedroom. The space was almost unnaturally tidy, and she remembered that Hays had always been something of a neat freak. But this room was so orderly, it was like no one had ever been inside.

  Margarete came out of the bathroom and started toward the door. “Everything is fine. He must have just stepped out for a few moments. He may be downstairs.”

  “Where is the music coming from?” Anna murmured. “Do you see a radio?”

  “No.” Margarete looked suddenly uneasy. “Please. We should leave now. We can’t intrude on his privacy any longer.”

  But Anna was already at the bathroom door, peaking inside. As Margarete said, nothing seemed amiss. The towels were all neatly folded on a shelf above the toilet, the sink spotless to the point of antiseptic.

  The only flaw in the room was a dripping faucet behind the shower curtain. Without thinking, Anna reached over and pulled the panel back.

  And there was Hays.

  Covered in blood.

  He had a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been removed. He stared up at Anna with unseeing eyes, and then in horror, she realized something had been stuffed into his mouth. A scorpion…

  She screamed then and staggered back, straight into Margarete.

  “Dios mío!” the woman muttered, crossing herself as her gaze fixed on the dead man.

  Anna ran out of the room and somehow managed to call for the officer before she collapsed onto the balcony, so sick with shock and horror, she couldn’t lift her head for a very long time.

  ANNA’S HANDS shook so badly she could hardly hold the glass of water someone had brought to her. She sat on the bench in the lobby, trying to keep her thoughts organized enough to answer Mendoza’s questions.

  He’d been summoned by Margarete, and over Mendoza’s protests, Anna had summoned Ben. Hays’s death—or more specifically, the way he’d died—was something Ben needed to know about.