Double Life Page 7

  He nodded. “I know about that. David Tobias told me.”

  “Then you must also know that her recovery hasn’t been easy. I don’t want to see her hurt again. I’m not sure she could take it.”

  “I didn’t come back to cause trouble,” he said. Then added, “For anyone.”

  She sighed. “You’re talking about Wesley and Brad now, I suppose. Since Mother’s stroke, she’s turned the company over to Wesley. Brad is his second in command. They won’t relinquish the reins willingly so tread carefully, kid.”

  “Like I said, I didn’t come back here to cause trouble. Whatever claim I had to Corbett Enterprises was forfeited the night I packed my bags and left home. I understand that.”

  Maris frowned. “Let’s not go overboard with the self-flagellation. My brothers could stand a little competition, especially Wesley. He acts as if Corbett Enterprises is his already, but so far as I know, Mother has never changed her will. As Reese’s son, you’re first in line to inherit controlling interest upon her death. Sooner, if she decides you’re ready. When and if that happens, be prepared for a fight, Ash. And in the meantime, watch your back.”

  Before he could respond, voices from the hallway silenced them both and Maris quickly positioned herself at his side as the others came into the room.

  Helen Corbett entered first, her bearing so straight and her steps so steady that if not for the silver-headed cane in her right hand, he would never have guessed that her health was so fragile.

  As her gaze came to rest on Ash, something sparked in her blue eyes, but she wasn’t smiling. Nor did her rigid demeanor invite his approach.

  He remained where he was as the others—Brad, Lynette and Pamela—filed into the room behind her. Wesley came last, a tall, masculine version of Maris. There was warmth in his face and maybe even a hint of a smile, but the moment he saw Ash, his mouth thinned and his eyes went ice cold.

  Maris squeezed his hand and said in his ear, “Just remember, I’m on your side. I always have been.”

  Then she slipped away and left him alone to face the lions.

  ASH’S CAR WAS PARKED IN the circle drive in front of the house when Emma got back from her walk. He hadn’t pulled under the portiere as everyone else had, and she wondered if that had been deliberate on his part or an unconscious way of letting everyone know that he no longer considered himself part of the family.

  Or maybe he simply hadn’t wanted to presume too much. Helen had always adored Ash, the only offspring of her favorite son, but she was also a tough old bird who wouldn’t forgive or forget too easily. No matter how glad she was to see Ash, she wouldn’t let him off easily. Not until he’d sufficiently repented.

  For a moment, Emma stood staring at the car. It was a far cry from the Porsche Helen had bought him for his sixteenth birthday, and Emma was hard-pressed to imagine Ash Corbett as an ordinary guy, someone who worked for a living and worried about his bills.

  She couldn’t help wondering if his car—painstakingly restored—was a reflection of the man he’d become rather than the one he’d left behind.

  Walking through the portiere, she let herself in through the garden gate. She’d meant to slip inside the house and hurry up the back staircase before she was seen, but someone stood smoking in the garden. When Emma saw who it was, she started to retreat through the gate, but the squeaky hinges had already signaled her presence.

  “Hello, Emma.” Pamela Corbett tossed her cigarette to the grass and ground it out with her foot. “Did you have a nice dinner with your father?”

  Emma didn’t bother correcting the assumption. Instead she smiled and said, “Yes, thank you.”

  “You weren’t gone long. Did you just walk up from the road?”

  “Yes.”

  The landscaping lights tucked into the lush shrubbery cast a subtle glow over the garden. Emma could still smell the jasmine and now the more woodsy fragrance of the moonflowers that spilled over the stone wall and tangled with the morning glories.

  Pamela’s face looked like porcelain in the light. She was a cool, beautiful blonde who seemed about as approachable as a cobra.

  “You must have seen him drive up then.”

  “Who?”

  She gave a low laugh. “Don’t be coy. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Did you talk to him?” Her expression never changed, but Emma heard an anxious note in her sultry voice.

  “You mean Ash? I spoke with him briefly. He almost ran me down on the road.”

  “Did he?” She laughed again. “Well, that sounds like the old Ash, doesn’t it?” She took another cigarette from her bag and lit up. “What did you think of him?”

  Like Helen earlier, she was fishing for something, but Emma wasn’t about to bite. She said carefully, “As I said, I only saw him for a few moments.”

  “But you talked to him, right?” Pamela took a deep pull on the cigarette and blew out the smoke. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing much. He wanted to make sure I was okay.”

  “After he almost ran you down.” She smiled through the smoke. “That sounds like him, too. Careless…but unfailingly polite. That’s our Ash.”

  Emma shivered at the venom in Pamela’s voice. What had Ash ever done to warrant such contempt? “If you’ll excuse me, I was just on my way to my room.”

  “Without saying good-night to Helen?”

  “I don’t want to interrupt her. I’ll see her in the morning. Good night, Mrs. Corbett.”

  Emma started toward the French doors, but as she moved passed the fountain, Pamela caught her arm. Her eyes glittered in the darkness. “I know about you and Ash.”

  Emma’s heart thudded against her chest as she pulled away.

  “Oh, yes. I know all about it,” Pamela said smugly. “The looks, the smiles, the secret rendezvous in the summerhouse. I suppose you were too young to realize what a cliché that was. Or maybe you just didn’t care. Maybe you thought you’d be the exception and end up with your very own Prince Charming.”

  Emma moistened her lips. This was certainly a night for revelations. “How did you—”

  Pamela shrugged. “I saw you slipping through the woods one night. I was bored so I decided to follow you. Ash was waiting for you in the gazebo and it was obvious the two of you were a bit closer than friends. But don’t worry,” she said, flicking her ashes into the fountain. “I never said anything to Helen or to Wesley. Your secret was safe with me. It still is…for as long as I have your cooperation.”

  Emma’s blood turned cold at the thought of conspiring, on any level, with the likes of Pamela Corbett. “I don’t understand. What is it you want from me?”

  “It’s really quite simple. I want you to be my eyes and ears while you’re in this house.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a clever girl, Emma. You know exactly what I mean. I saw Ash a few minutes ago. He’s very differ ent from the young man who left here twelve years ago. You must have noticed that, too.”

  Emma tried to keep her voice even. She didn’t want Pamela to see her apprehension because she knew the woman would somehow try to use it against her. “As I said, we only spoke for a moment and it was dark. I really didn’t get a good look at him.”

  “I’m not just talking about his appearance, although if you ask me he’s lost his looks.” Pamela propped her elbow on her arm as the cigarette smoldered between her fingers. “He’s older, harder…he’s not the same person he was twelve years ago.”

  “None of us are,” Emma said.

  “No, that’s true. But I have a hard time believing that someone could change as much as he has. Even if he did have an accident and reconstructive surgery, that doesn’t explain why he never called or wrote the whole time he was gone. I understand that he left in anger, but twelve years is a long time to hold a grudge. I’m curious about his timing, aren’t you?”

  Emma said slowly, “You don’t think he is Ash, do you?”

  Pamela moved away from the fountain and c
ame toward Emma, a stream of smoke trailing her in the dark. The pungent aroma mingled with her perfume and the sweeter scent of the flowers in the garden. “What do you think, Emma?”

  “I have no reason to believe he isn’t who he says he is.”

  “Maybe not yet.” Pamela’s gaze burned into hers. “But you’re in a very unique position. If anyone can determine whether or not the man inside that house is an imposter, it’s you.”

  “How?”

  She clucked her tongue in disgust. “You’re still being deliberately dense. I’m disappointed in you.”

  “Mrs. Corbett—”

  “Get him alone, Emma. Do what comes naturally.”

  Emma’s cheeks heated with anger. “You’re asking me to seduce him and then tell you whether or not I think he’s an imposter? That hardly falls under my job description.”

  “Oh, crawl down off that high horse,” Pamela said scathingly. “It’s not like you haven’t seduced him before. You were shameless the way you used to chase after him so please spare me your moral superiority. Besides, I’m not asking you to sleep with him. Unless you want to, of course. Just get him alone. The two of you must have shared secrets.”

  First Helen had warned her away from Ash, and now Pamela was trying to get her to seduce him. Emma suddenly felt trapped between two very dangerous predators and she knew she had to tread carefully. Her father’s livelihood and her own depended on it.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Corbett, but whether the man inside that house is an imposter or not is none of my business. Whoever he is, he’s a stranger to me and I intend to keep it that way. Besides, Helen will surely order a DNA test.”

  “I’m sure she will, but that could take weeks. In the meantime, a clever con man—as I suspect he is—could do a lot of damage to this family. What if he ingratiates himself with Helen and then she learns he’s not her beloved Ash? Do you think she could take a shock like that?”

  Pamela’s concern for her mother-in-law rang hollow. She had something else up her sleeve, and whatever it was, Emma wanted no part of it.

  “You’re not giving Mrs. Corbett enough credit,” she said. “She’s a very shrewd woman. If he’s an imposter, she’ll see right through him. She doesn’t need me for that.”

  “Helen’s smart, I’ll grant you that. But she’s been through a lot this past year and her mind isn’t as sharp as it once was. Besides, she adored Ash. She even put him ahead of her own sons. She’s going to desperately want to believe that man is her grandson.”

  “I still think you’re selling her short,” Emma said.

  “I hope you’re right. But I think Helen will believe just about anything if it means she can have her precious Ash back.” Pamela’s tone turned bitter. “He’s still her heir, you know. She hasn’t changed her will in all these years. Even after everything Wesley has done for the company.”

  So that was it. It all came down to the money.

  Emma wasn’t surprised. Pamela Corbett had always struck her as the mercenary type. Naturally she would have her own best interests at heart, probably more so than her husband’s.

  “If you don’t want to do it for me, then do it for Wesley,” Pamela coaxed. “After all, he went out of his way to get you the position with Helen. And who do you think covered your father’s medical expenses last year?”

  Emma’s gaze shot back to Pamela. “He had insurance.”

  She shook her head. “The policy only paid a fraction of the cost. Wesley made up the difference.”

  “My father never said anything—”

  “Because he doesn’t know. Wesley never told him. I’m only telling you because I think you owe Wesley your loyalty.”

  “If what you say is true, then I’m very grateful for Mr. Corbett’s generosity,” Emma said. “And I’ll pay him back every last cent. But I think your husband would be the first to agree that my loyalty should lie with his mother. She’s my employer. If I feel there is something she needs to know, I’ll go to her myself. Beyond that, as I said before, none of this is my business.”

  Emma hurried away before Pamela could detain her again, and as she let herself in through the French doors, she glanced back. The garden lights illuminated Pamela’s face. Emma could see quite clearly the hatred that twisted the woman’s lovely features, and an icy tingle lifted the hair at the back of her neck.

  She had a terrible feeling that she’d just made a very sly and dangerous enemy.

  Chapter Six

  The meeting with the family wasn’t as difficult as he’d anticipated. All those weeks David Tobias spent coaching him had prepared him well for the first round of grilling. He and Tobias had agreed that for as much as possible he would stick to the truth. That way he would be less likely to get caught up in a lie.

  So that evening he found himself recounting to the family much of what had really happened to him during the past twelve years. He told them about his fledging construction business in New Orleans and how he’d been wiped out when the hurricane hit. The only thing he steered clear of was Tom Black’s stint in a state prison.

  “So you fell on hard times,” Maris said with a compassionate smile. “There’s no shame in that. Why didn’t you contact us sooner? We’re your family, Ash. We would have helped you out.”

  “Because I wasn’t looking for a handout,” he said. “I’m still not. You may find this hard to believe, but I’m not here because of the money. When I left here twelve years ago, I knew that I was burning my bridges. I didn’t plan on coming back. At least not until I could prove to myself that I was my own man.” He glanced at Helen. Her expression never changed, but he detected what might have been a telltale glimmer in her blue eyes.

  “Then why did you come back?” Unlike the others, Wesley had refused to sit. He’d strategically placed himself by the fireplace so that he had the advantage of being able to survey the whole room at a glance. He was a perceptive man and he’d been watching his nephew like a hawk ever since he’d come into the room.

  “I’m here because I heard about Grandmother’s health. And because going through what I did in New Orleans made me face my own mortality. Life’s too short to live with anger and regret.”

  “That’s a very nice speech,” Wesley said. “But what makes you think we’ll just accept your word for why you’re here?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Brad muttered. He got up and walked over to the bar to pour himself a fresh drink. When he didn’t return to the sofa where he’d been sitting with his wife, Lynette got up and joined him.

  Wesley’s features hardened. “We’ve all believed for a long time that Ash was dead. And now here you turn up out of the blue claiming to be my long-lost nephew, yet you don’t look very much like him. You say plastic surgery following a car accident changed your appear ance. Okay. That sounds plausible. But you don’t sound like Ash, either. You don’t act like him. How do we know you’re not an opportunist looking to cash in on my nephew’s misfortune?”

  “Enough!” Helen’s cane thumped loudly against the hardwood floor. She hadn’t spoken since she entered the room, but her blue gaze had never left Ash. Even when he was focused on someone else, he could feel those eyes piercing through his facade. “I’d like some time alone with my grandson.”

  “Mother, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brad said.

  “Hell, no, it’s not a good idea.” Wesley came over and knelt beside Helen’s chair. “We have to be careful. I know you want to believe he’s Ash. We all do. But a lot’s at stake here and not the least of which is your health.”

  “You let me worry about my own health,” Helen said. “You’ve all had your turn. Now it’s mine. I’m not taking anybody’s word for anything. I’ll have David Tobias arrange for a DNA test tomorrow, but right now, I would like a few words alone with this young man. Whoever he is.”

  Once everyone was gone and the doors to the library drawn shut, a measured silence fell over the room. He glanced at the old woman. In spite of her age
and health, her posture was rigid and her eyes were focused like a laser beam on him.

  Planting both hands on the cane, she leaned forward slightly. “Don’t just stand there. Come over here and sit beside me so that I can get a good look at you.”

  He did as she said, and when he was settled at her side, her gaze raked over him again. “Wesley was right. You don’t look much like my grandson,” she said with a frown. “Oh, there’s a strong physical resemblance, I’ll grant you that. But there’s something in your eyes…” She trailed off, her expression going hard. “You may be able to fool the others, but you can’t fool me, young man.”

  He swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  Her fingers tightened on the head of the cane. “You didn’t come back because you fell on hard times. That’s the one truthful thing you said all night. But I know the real reason you’re here.”

  “You do?”

  “You came back because you found out what it means to be a Corbett.”

  Her features softened almost imperceptibly, and then after a moment, he saw tears well in her eyes.

  That surprised him.

  And suddenly he knew exactly what to do. He picked up her hand and lifted it to his cheek.

  AFTER HER CONFRONTATION WITH Pamela in the garden, Emma had gone straight up to her room to get ready for bed. But instead of putting on her nightgown after showering, she dressed in jeans and a light cotton shirt and headed back out again.

  Tiptoeing down the hallway, she stole silently down the back stairway hoping to avoid anyone else who might still be up.

  From her bedroom window, she’d seen the flash of headlights as the family all left earlier. First Brad and Lynette, then Wesley and Pamela, and lastly Maris, who had probably stayed to see Helen off to bed. She might even have given her mother a mild sleeping pill to counteract the evening’s excitement, which hopefully meant that Helen would sleep in the next morning and give Emma time to catch up on some paperwork.