Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Betrayal

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  The End

  Betrayal

  By Heather Walsh

  Copyright © 2018 by Heather Walsh

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  It was hot as hell.

  Appropriately so, Stephen Chandler thought as he imagined an inferno rising from the outer ring of Dante’s seventh circle, consuming the mahogany casket as it was lowered six feet into the ground. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, continuing through the collar of the white shirt he wore under his black suit. The sun was relentless, his dark glasses barely easing the glare as it reflected off the gleaming brass fixtures. Breathing was nearly impossible, made further difficult from the eyes he swore were burning a hole in the middle of his back.

  Resisting the temptation to turn around, Stephen kept his gaze focused on the casket until it disappeared from view. Not until the first pile of dirt was shoveled onto the surface did he let out a long exhale.

  Maybe now that the bastard was dead, they could all move on.

  Stephen winced as the thought passed through his mind, knowing he should feel…something. Shame? Guilt? Grief? Yet, he felt nothing.

  Literally.

  Nothing as the casket was covered with dirt. Nothing as the minister delivered his final words. No warm memories of the respect and admiration he’d once felt for the Honorable William Chandler Sr. as he was laid to rest.

  Because honorable, the man was not.

  A slight breeze ruffled Stephen’s hair from behind, bringing with it a scent that reminded him of Kat. Again, he resisted the overwhelming temptation to turn and find her, so he could carry her away from this hell.

  Was she seeking closure? Was she feeling vindicated? Relieved that the man who had destroyed her life was no longer a threat? Finally burying the nightmare of her past so she could move forward?

  A nightmare caused by his family.

  Or more specifically, by the man being covered with dirt after suffering for two excruciatingly long weeks. Stephen closed his eyes, drawing in another deep breath before letting it out slowly. Fighting to push away the rage that threatened to consume him, his constant companion, it seemed, when the numbness began to fade.

  And then there were the impossible emotions in figuring out how I was supposed to grieve. If I grieved my mother, was I supposed to hate my father for taking her life? Or if I grieved my father, was I being disloyal to mother?

  Kat’s words. Two weeks ago, when she’d poured out her heart and soul, hours before they’d learned the truth. Glancing over to his left when his mother squeezed his arm, he took another deep breath. Her dark sunglasses masked any emotion he might have read on her face. Was she numb too? More likely she was just as enraged as Stephen, forced to stand next to her husband, his father, who she’d kicked out of the house two weeks ago. On his left stood his older brother Xavier, his face a mask of stone. Jay and Emily, his two youngest siblings, looked shell-shocked, much the same way they had two weeks ago, when their charmed life had exploded into a nightmare.

  And Alex, his closest sibling. Missing. None of them had heard from him since that horrific night. He’d refused to answer their calls, their texts.

  Stephen forced himself to keep his hands from balling into fists, aware of the cameras they’d failed to keep away. Under the circumstances, the entire family had agreed to avoid the pomp and circumstance. Instead, hoping for a quiet ceremony that wouldn’t be aired across the state. They’d been unsuccessful.

  And when the rest of the story got out?

  The sense of dread that was becoming more and more familiar came over him, the same dread he woke up with every morning if he had managed to fall asleep the night before. He couldn’t imagine living through the fallout. The ruination of his reputation along with his dreams for the future. Everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. Because despite his own innocence, Stephen had no doubt he’d be crucified by the press. They’d speculate whether he was involved. Speculate whether he’d known, if he’d kept silent about the murders.

  Two counts of murder.

  Attempted murder of a third.

  Words that couldn’t possibly describe the heinous acts his grandfather had committed. Couldn’t begin to describe the horror of what Stephen had witnessed.

  The haunting images burned, quite literally, into his head, no matter how hard he tried to shake them away. Bad enough they haunted his nights, replaying in an endless loop without end. He couldn’t imagine what they were doing to the woman standing somewhere behind him. He longed to turn around, catch a glimpse of her, if even from afar. Was she alone? Or was Ethan at her side, his hand on the small of her back?

  God, he hated that man. Her fucking hero.

  I’m yours!

  Kat’s words again, screamed that fateful day when Stephen had learned the true extent of their relationship. Then her terror, just hours later as she’d looked at Stephen and had seen a killer.

  His mother squeezed his arm again, gently pulling him from his thoughts. Stephen looked down at her, realized everyone was leaving, the service over. Thank God. He’d felt like a hypocrite for coming. Had only relented at his mother’s request. A show of solidarity.

  A lie.

  Stephen glanced at his father, their eyes meeting for a moment, guilt warring with anger and disillusionment for the man who had raised him. The man who had taught him right from wrong, who had held his children to a high ethical high standard then had turned around had an affair and withheld evidence in a murder investigation.

  I will blame you for tonight until the day I die.

  The last words he’d spoken to his father. The same night he’d lost Kat, fear of what would come out of his mouth keeping him silent. Stephen looked away, glancing at the rest of his family before he turned and scanned the crowd. Still no sign of Alex. And though he searched for Kat, he couldn’t find her either.

  She was already gone.

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nbsp; Chapter One

  Four weeks later.

  So help him, he was going to kill her!

  “Get him out!” Stephen roared, punching the steering wheel as he fought his way through the clutsterfuck that was Manhattan traffic. Behind him a siren blared, his already pounding heart nearly exploding with the sound. Traffic stopped, coming to a complete standstill while sweat trickled down his face, the heat of the city too much for the air-conditioning in his thirty-year-old Porsche.

  “We’re doing everything we can, sir.”

  The words, patiently uttered, had him seeing red, the control he’d managed to hold onto during his interviews earlier in the day evaporating. Did they not understand the seriousness of the situation? Rage blasted through him as he punched the accelerator, his tires squealing as traffic finally moved, the car’s rear end fishtailing slightly before he managed to regain control.

  “Everything you can?” he repeated, barely managing to reign in his temper, desperately striving for patience. He lost the battle. “He’ll be killed within hours! And that’s if he’s not already dead!”

  And God help the woman who’d brought this down on their heads. Because sure as shit, he wouldn’t be showing her any mercy. Unbelievable that she’d do something so cold and calculating. To think he’d touched her, slept with her...

  And now Alex’s life was in jeopardy. Six long, fucked up weeks since he’d seen him. Learning Alex had gone back to work, had gone undercover, scared him shitless. Alex’s head wasn’t on straight, intensifying an already dangerous situation.

  Jesus, his life was a fucking mess, a downward spiral that seemed to have no end. Alex missing, putting his life in jeopardy. His parents battling, his siblings left the state, trying to cope with the new reality that their grandfather was a murderer. Countless interviews with the Attorney General’s office that felt a hell of a lot more like interrogations, making it increasingly difficult to hold his head up when he walked into his office, especially since he’d been forced to hire his own attorney.

  And he could only imagine the field day the press would have with that.

  Assistant District Attorney Stephen Chandler Lawyers Up!

  Three Generations of Criminals?

  The Untold Chandler Conspiracy!

  So much for innocent until proven guilty.

  Slamming on his brakes, Stephen barely avoided crashing into the yellow cab in front of him, ignoring the man’s finger as he thrust it out the window, the incessant honking and sirens adding fire to the rage that was quickly spiraling out of control.

  “Mr. Chandler.” Different voice, authoritative tone. Finally, he was getting somewhere, at least with the damned phone call. Holy hell, how long could it possibly take to drive two blocks?

  “This is Captain Alessandro. We are currently working on a strategy to extract Agent Chandler—”

  “Working on a strategy?” Stephen exploded, his hands shaking as he gripped the steering wheel, cranking it hard to the right when he noticed an empty parking spot. “Do you not understand—”

  “Mr. Chandler, you will listen to me or I will disconnect this call. Do you understand me?” The man’s commanding voice whipped through the car, irritation evident in every clipped word. “As it is, you have interrupted the very meeting where we are working on contacting your brother.”

  Horns blared, tires screeching as he whipped into the spot, cursing under his breath when he saw the fire hydrant. Not that it would help, but he shoved his official tag from the DA’s office five counties away onto the dashboard and rushed out of the car, racing down the street on foot, losing precious seconds while he turned off his Bluetooth.

  “While I’m waiting for a response, you are wasting our time.” Cold, still clipped.

  “I’m listening.” At nearly midnight, foot-traffic was still thick. Stephen struggled to keep his control, the phone pressed to his ear.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, this situation must be handled delicately for the safety of all our agents working undercover. We cannot go in with guns blazing, putting innocent people at risk,” Captain Alessandro continued. “As I tried to relay a moment ago, we are working to get your brother out safely. We are aware of the threat to his identity and will do everything in our power to make sure he’s safe. I will keep you updated on the situation as it progresses and will call you when we have answers. Until then, please refrain from harassing our offices.”

  “Thank you.” Somehow, Stephen managed to sound sincere, though Alessandro’s statement did nothing to relieve the pressure in his chest or the fear clawing at his insides. “Please call me when you’ve got him.” Stephen stabbed the red button on his phone, disconnecting the call that hadn’t yielded any information. One more block. Foot traffic eased as Stephen all but ran toward his brother’s apartment. At least he hoped it was Alex’s. It was the only address he’d found when he’d ransacked Alex’s house upstate.

  His skin prickled as he neared, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end as he looked up at the apartment building that had seen better days. The outside door was unlocked, opening to a filthy foyer that smelled of desperation under the overwhelming odor of pot. The ceiling light flickered, casting a flashing glow on the chipped linoleum floor that didn’t look like it’d been cleaned in years. Or ever. He’d known Alex’s living conditions wouldn’t be lavish, but he hadn’t truly been prepared for the despair and hopelessness that seemed to cling to the walls, the filth that littered the floor.

  Removing his gun from the small of his back, he slowly made his way toward the stairs, staying as silent as possible as he headed up to the third floor. Second guessing his impulsive decision, wishing he’d have at least called Xavier.

  Apartment 314 was at the end of the hall. Rap music warred with a screaming baby and a couple fighting, the smell of marijuana growing stronger as he crept down the hallway toward Alex’s, wondering how the hell his brother could live like this, even for his job. Fear for him increased as Stephen’s heartrate accelerated, the sight of the slightly open door doubling that fear.

  Raising his gun, he kept it close to his chest, pointed up, feeling like a poor imitation of a television cop. He was way over his head, taking risks he shouldn’t be taking. Nudging the door open with his foot, he took cover behind the door jamb as sweat once again trickled down his face. Waiting a few heartbeats, he entered the apartment, gun first.

  And nearly fell to his knees in despair.

  “God, no.” Bile lodged in his throat, the sickly metallic scent of blood flooding his nostrils, choking him, his head spinning in denial as he fell back a step, nearly tripping in his haste. Bound to a chair in the center of the living room, the man’s entire body was covered in blood, pooling in a puddle at his feet, his head resting on his chest, obscuring his face.

  Black hair.

  Strong body.

  Alex.

  The name roared through his head as he lowered the gun, the hot sting of tears burning his eyes as he took a step forward, only to freeze at the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

  Stephen’s thoughts raced even as he felt the gun press into the back of his head, never removing his eyes from the mass of black hair before him, longer than the last time he’d seen Alex. He sucked in a breath, fear for his own life coming full force.

  Although he was decent with a weapon, he had no doubt the man who held the gun to his head was a hell of a lot faster. But it didn’t matter. If he raised his weapon, no doubt he’d be dead before it hit the floor. Forming a half-assed plan, Stephen raised his hands as if in surrender, keeping his finger on the trigger.

  “Police! Drop your weapon!”

  Stephen dropped, slipping in the blood that covered the floor.

  Chapter Two

  “Happy Birthday!”

  Kat raised her glass, clinking it together with the rest of her party, laughing as she repeated the words loud enough to be heard over the music, toasting Jen before swallowing the shot. “Too sweet.”
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br />   But that didn’t stop her from taking another one.

  “Let’s dance,” Jen said, popping off her stool, grabbing Kat with one hand, Kristine’s with the other. Kat followed them, losing herself in the beat of the music, reveling in being in the hottest dance club in Manhattan with a group of friends, alcohol flowing freely, awesome music, and just being alive.

  She raised her arms above her head, matching Jen’s movements, knowing it was hiking her short dress up even further. She’d lost count of how many drinks she’d had, but she had to admit she was feeling pretty good. Not only was it Jen’s birthday, Kat was celebrating her official resignation from the New York State Police Department.

  She had taken that doctoral spot she’d been offered at Columbia University. Because as for the world of academia, it was where she belonged, where she fit, though she had tried to deny it after her parents’ murders. Her father had been a professor…

  Not tonight, she told herself. Because tonight, for one night, she was part of the New York scene, just another twenty-something out for some fun. Tonight, she was young, full of life, and she was going to enjoy it.

  Even if it killed her.

  She was moving forward. She had survived.

  Now she just had to survive the upcoming week. She’d promised Ethan, couldn’t back out. Besides, she desperately wanted to fix the tension that had grown between them. The tension that had become increasingly worse since she’d run from his house. They’d barely spoken since. And tonight…he’d promised he’d be here, yet was nowhere to be found. Wasn’t answering his phone, wasn’t responding to her texts.

  “I need another drink!”

  That from Jen. Kat wholeheartedly agreed, following her off the dance floor for another drink she didn’t need, but desperately wanted. They were a party of six tonight, Jen’s friends from the clubs her father owned. With the exception of Brian, Jen’s brother, who was surprisingly cutting loose tonight. A war correspondent, he was only home only for a week before he went overseas again. He caught her eye, gave her a flirtatious smile as he handed Kat another drink. She returned his smile with one of her own. He was seriously good-looking, brown hair and devilish brown eyes that sparkled with interest, so unlike the serious personality he showed the rest of the world. Tonight he was fun, full of jokes and laughter. And Kat supposed that’s what attracted her in the first place, his love of life so like Jen’s. One Kat was just beginning to discover. Or trying to, anyway.