A man undercover must reveal the truth in the swamps in the continuation of USA TODAY bestselling author Jana DeLeon’s Mystere Parish: Family Inheritance.
One day on the job and contractor Zach Sargent is ready to believe the dilapidated old LeBeau mansion is haunted. Some intruder—earthly or not—is threatening the youngest LeBeau sister, back to claim her inheritance. And though Danae keeps her distance from the sexy hired hand, he falls for her in a heartbeat.
Like Danae, Zach has come back to Calais in need of answers to troubling questions about the LeBeau family past. But Danae must never know who he really is and he can’t let his attraction to her stop his search...or else a decades-old evil will claim a new victim.
The worry and care in his voice and expression was so clear that it made her heart ache.
“I’m sorry—” she started.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “Someone attacked you in your home. Anyone would have been terrified.”
“I was,” she said, and looked down, almost embarrassed that she’d been so scared.
He placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head back up until she met his gaze. “But you fought back and got away,” he said. “You’re a strong, brave woman.”
Her heart pounded in her throat and more than anything, she wanted him to kiss her. No matter how hard she’d tried to resist her attraction to Zach, her body always betrayed her. It came alive when he was close to her, as never before.
She felt her body lean forward, anticipating the kiss, but instead, he released her and scanned the cabin.
The Betrayed
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Jana DeLeon
USA TODAY bestselling author JANA DELEON grew up among the bayous and small towns of southwest Louisiana. She’s never actually found a dead body or seen a ghost, but she’s still hoping. Jana started writing in 2001—she focuses on murderous plots set deep in the Louisiana bayous. By day she writes very boring technical manuals for a software company in Dallas. Visit Jana on her website, www.janadeleon.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Danae LeBeau—The youngest LeBeau sister had the roughest childhood of the three girls, and it left her with a strong distrust of people and an attitude that anything life handed her, she would handle on her own. But with her life on the line, she has to trust someone, or risk dying alone.
Zach Sargent—The construction company owner was looking for answers surrounding his father’s death and was certain they were contained on the LeBeau estate, where he’d gained a job as a contractor. He thought he’d have full access to the mansion, find the information he needed and leave, but the cagey LeBeau heiress kept him under her watchful eye. Could he convince her to trust him long enough to get the answers he needed?
Jack Granger—The disgruntled cook was mad enough that he didn’t inherit from the LeBeau estate when the girls’ stepfather died. He’s even less thrilled that the woman who used to wait tables in the café turned out to be one of the heiresses. But was he angry enough to try kill her over it?
Bert Thibodeaux—The long-haul trucker had been promised an inheritance by the girls’ stepfather, Trenton Purcell, but he got stiffed, just like the cook. He was no stranger to trouble with the law, but would he go as far as murder to take his revenge?
Johnny Miller—The local man had owned the café for decades and seemed to care about his patrons and the town. But was he another of the town’s residents that Purcell had promised would inherit from the LeBeau estate?
To my husband, Rene, who always believed in me.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Excerpt
Chapter One
The tortured soul wandered the mansion, calling for her children. Where had they gone? Why couldn’t she hear their sweet voices? Why didn’t their footsteps echo throughout the house?
Was it him? Had he done something to her babies?
The thought of it broke her heart and she screamed in anguish, vowing never to rest until her children were returned to her.
And until the man paid.
* * *
DANAE LEBEAU was running late, as usual, but today she had a good excuse. The local radio station had been abuzz since the wee hours of the morning, broadcasting information about the attack on Alaina LeBeau weeks before and the subsequent death of her attacker at the hands of the local sheriff. Until now, it had all been gossip and speculation, while everyone impatiently waited for the state police to clear those involved and declare it self-defense. Now it was the hottest bit of excitement the tiny bayou town of Calais had ever seen.
My sister could have died.
The thought ripped through her as she listened to the reporter relay the gruesome details of that horrible night at their mother’s estate, the weight of the words crippling her. Her sister could have died, and Danae had never even told her they were related.
After their mother’s death, the three sisters had been separated by their stepfather, Trenton Purcell, and shipped off to be raised by distant relatives. Danae was only two when it happened, not old enough to remember anything about her life in Calais. The only childhood she’d known was in California, but years ago, she’d started slowly making her way across the country to Louisiana. Even though she couldn’t remember anything about her life in Calais, she’d always felt a tug—as if something was drawing her back to her birthplace.
Using an assumed name, she’d taken a job at the local café to try to find out information on her stepfather, who had lived as a recluse in her mother’s family estate for over two decades. But she’d managed to find out very little about the man, given that most of the townspeople seemed to completely dislike him and were happy to see him disappear from society.
After her stepfather’s death, Danae’s sister Alaina showed up in Calais to meet the terms of their mother’s will. According to the local gossip, each sister was required to live on the estate for a period of two weeks within one year after their stepfather’s death. Once those stipulations were met, their mother’s estate would pass to the sisters. It was shocking news to Danae, who’d always assumed their mother had left everything to their stepfather and that her ties to Calais had long since been severed.
Danae still remembered the day Alaina arrived in town. Through the storefront window of the café, she’d seen Alaina driving her SUV down Main Street. She’d dropped a whole stack of dishes and had her pay docked for the incident, but she hadn’t been able to help it. The only thing Danae had from her past was an old photo of their mother. Alaina looked as if she’d stepped out of that photo, changed into current clothes and driven by.
When she met Alaina early one morning at the café, Danae wanted to tell her that they were sisters, but years of living on the street had taught her to always stand back and assess the situation. To always limit exposure of herself unless absolutely necessary. That level of caution had saved her life more than once, and just because she experienced a familial pull, she had no reason to sacrifice something that had always worked for her.
But now, she wondered if she should reveal herself. From the local talk, she had a good idea about the terms of the will and knew that if she wanted to take part, she’d have to come forward. The distant cousin who had taken her in when her mother died had passed away long ago, a liquor bottle clenched in her leathered hand, and Danae had never gotten close enough to anyone to make lasting friendships. If anyone tried to find her, the trail stopped cold in California.
After Danae met Alaina and got a good feeling about her as a person, she’d been tempted to talk to the estate attorney, but she’d still held back. What if their middle sister couldn’t be located, either? Her understanding was that all three sisters had to meet the requirements of the will in order for any of them to inherit. If the last sister couldn’t be located or didn’t agree to the terms, then Danae would have exposed herself for no viable reason, and at a time when she didn’t feel comfortable doing so.
But the attack on Alaina had her rethinking everything. What if her sister had died and she’d never gotten the chance to tell her who she was? She could have missed one of her only opportunities to have a real family.
As she grabbed her car keys, she glanced at her watch and cursed. She even had the advantage of working second shift that morning, but she wasn’t going to make the later work time, either. Johnny, the café owner, was going to kill her for being so late. Likely, everyone in Calais would wander through the café this morning to gossip about the news report. Nothing this big had ever happened in the sleepy bayou town. It was going to be the talk for quite a while.
She flung open the front door of her rented cabin, ready to break some major speeding laws on the winding country roads, but stopped short at the sight of the plain white envelope that lay on the welcome mat.
Such a common, nonthreatening item shouldn’t have set off the wave of anxiety that flooded through her, but she immediately knew something was off. She hadn’t let her guard down long enough to make close friends, and even if she had, they would hardly drive ten miles into the swamp to leave an envelope at her doorstep.
Her hands shook as she reached for the envelope, and as soon as her fingers closed around it, she set off at a run for her car. Whoever had left the envelope might be watching, lurking somewhere in the swamp that enclosed the tiny cabin and blocked it off from the rest of the world.
She jumped into her ancient sedan, started it and threw it into Drive, tearing out of the dirt driveway before she’d even managed to close the car door. She pressed the accelerator just beyond the limits of safety, and her fingers ached from clenching the steering wheel as the old car skidded in the gravel. The narrow road seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, she reached the intersection for the paved road that led into Calais.
She pulled to a stop and looked over at the envelope that she’d tossed onto the passenger’s seat. Habit had her checking her rearview mirror, but no one was visible behind her. She glanced back at the passenger’s seat where the envelope lay, seemingly taunting her to open it. Lifting one hand, she bit her lower lip, then hesitated.
What are you—a coward?
Unable to stand it any longer, she grabbed the envelope and tore it open. A single scrap of paper containing only one sentence fell out into her hand.
I know who you are.
She sucked in a breath so hard her chest ached. All her careful planning and secrecy had been for naught. Someone had figured out her secret. But why did they leave this message? What were they hoping to accomplish by doing so? Being Ophelia LeBeau’s daughter wasn’t a crime, and Danae had no reason other than an overzealous sense of self-protection for hiding her true identity.
Someone must be trying to scare her. But to what end?
She shoved the paper into her purse and continued her drive to town. She’d stop at the café first and let Johnny know she had to take a bit more time that morning. He wouldn’t be happy and may even fire her, but that couldn’t be helped. Danae had the sudden overwhelming feeling that she had to find William Duhon, the estate attorney, and reveal her true identity.
Whatever someone hoped to accomplish with the note, she was going to cut them off at the pass.
DANAE SPOTTED ALAINA’S SUV in front of the attorney’s office and felt another bout of panic. Then logic took over and she decided it was a good thing. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. She hurried into the office and told a rather grim-looking woman at the front desk that she wished to speak to Mr. Duhon.
The grim woman frowned, which surprised Danae a bit, as she’d thought the woman was already frowning before.
“Do you have an appointment?” Grim asked.
“You know that I don’t,” Danae replied, trying to keep her voice level. After all, this woman and everyone else knew her as Connie from the café, and probably couldn’t imagine why she’d need to speak to William.
“I can make you an appointment for later this week.”
“Is he talking to Alaina?”
“Mr. Duhon’s clients are all afforded the privacy they deserve—”
Danae waved a hand at the woman to cut her off.
“Never mind,” she said as she walked past the desk and pushed open the door to the attorney’s office.
Alaina jumped around in her seat when Danae flung open the door, and the attorney jumped up from his chair, uncertain and clearly uncomfortable with the interruption.
“You can’t go in there,” Grim admonished behind her.
“I’m Danae LeBeau,” she said before she could change her mind.
Chapter Two
Alaina and William stared at her, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and surprise. She’d expected as much. Connie Smith, café waitress, had served them both breakfast on many occasions. She’d never provided her real name to anyone in Calais before now. And as her looks were a perfect blend of both parents, she didn’t favor either enough to draw suspicion.
“I have documentation,” she said and pulled some faded, worn papers from her purse. “A birth certificate and a driver’s license with my real name—I’d appreciate it if you don’t ask where I got the one I’ve been using.”
She stood there, holding the documents, with both William and Alaina staring at her in shock. Finally, Alaina rose from her chair and walked the couple of steps to stand in front of her.
“Danae?” Alaina said, her voice wavering. “You were just a toddler... You had on a new dress that day—”
“Yellow with white roses,” Danae interrupted.
Alaina’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes.” She threw her arms around Danae and squeezed her tightly. “I never thought... When I came here, I didn’t know what would happen.”
Danae struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t know, either.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived?”
“We’re fine, Ms. Morgan,” William’s voice sounded behind them.
Danae released Alaina and glanced back in time to see Secretary Grim pull the door closed, her frown still fixed in place. Alaina smiled at her and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I...uh...” Danae struggled to find a way to explain. “I don’t really know why I came to Calais, or even to Louisiana. I mean, I guess I thought I could talk to our stepfather and maybe find out something—anything—about my past, maybe find you and Joelle. But I never got the chance and then he died.”
Danae sniffed and willed the tears that were building to stay in place. Now was not the time to go soft. “I don’t really remember. I don’t remember anything, and I kept thinking that it was important. That my life here mattered and I needed to know. I know it sounds silly...”
Alaina squeezed her arm. “No. It doesn’t sound silly at all. Not to me.”
Danae could tell by the way Alaina said it that she meant what she said. She wasn’t just being nice. She understood, as only the three sisters could possibly understand. A wave of relief passed over her, and the tug at her heart, the one she’d felt for Alaina the first time she saw her, grew stronger.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about how our stepfather lived,” Danae continued. “I never even saw him. Then he died and you turned up.”
Alaina smiled. “I felt a connection to you when we first met that I didn’t understand. I slipped so easily into conversation with you, which is rare. Maybe somewhere deep down, I knew.”
Danae sniffed and her eyes misted up a bit. “I wanted to say something when you arrived, but what would people think—my working here with an assumed name and all?”
She looked over at the attorney. “I swear I didn’t know about the inheritance when I came to Calais.”
The attorney waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk, encouraging them to sit. “Please don’t trouble yourself with those kinds of thoughts, Ms. LeBeau. You couldn’t have been aware of the conditions of your mother’s will. Ophelia was a very private person, and your stepfather wasn’t about to tell anyone that he wasn’t really the wealthy man he seemed.”
As Danae slid into the chair next to Alaina, she felt some of the tension lessen in her shoulders and back. “But I still came here under false pretenses.”
“No,” Alaina said. “You came here looking for answers and didn’t want everyone to know that evil old man was your stepfather. I hardly think anyone will fault you for your feelings.”
The attorney nodded. “Your sister is correct. While some of the more dramatic of Calais’s residents may find some fun in theorizing as to your hidden identity, those who partake in logical thinking will not so much as raise an eyebrow at your choices. In fact, most would assume you wise.”
Danae smiled. “You’re very refreshing, Mr. Duhon.”
“Isn’t he the best?” Alaina beamed. “Until I met him, I had no idea attorneys could be competent, nice and have a personality. I’d thought I was the only one.”
“Please call me William,” he said, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Well, ladies, we have a lot to discuss, but I can cover the basics of the inheritance now and we can meet at a later date to discuss the rest.”
Danae nodded. “I know I have to live on the property for two weeks and that Sheriff Trahan will verify my residency every day. At least, that’s what the café gossip is.”
“This time, the café gossip is correct. That was one of the things Alaina and I were discussing, among everything else.”
“Why? Have the requirements changed?”
“No, but the storm last week did a lot of damage. Much of the house no longer has power, and the heating system has failed completely. Essentially, the house has gone from barely habitable to not habitable in a matter of days.”
Danae pulled at a loose thread on the chair cushion. “So what do we do?” The thought of living in that big, scary house with limited power wasn’t anywhere on her bucket list.
William frowned. “That is a fine question. I have already hired someone to begin the repairs, but the work could take a while to complete. I assume you’d like to get this over with.”
Danae nodded.
He tapped his pen on the desk then jumped up with more speed than Danae would have thought possible for a man his age. He pulled open a drawer in the filing cabinet behind him and removed a thick folder.
He slid back into his chair and flipped through the pages, scanning and frowning as he went. Danae looked over at Alaina, but she just shrugged. Finally, he closed the document and beamed across the desk at them.
“You’re renting the cabin off Bayou Glen Drive, right?” William asked.
“Yes,” Danae replied, “but I don’t see—”
“That cabin is part of the estate,” William said. “The inheritance documents don’t specify that you must occupy the main house, so I’m to assume that if you wanted to pitch a tent somewhere on estate acreage, that would also qualify. But in your case, you merely have to remain where you are for at least another two weeks, subject to monitoring and verification by our friend the sheriff.”
“Oh!” Danae exclaimed. “Well, that’s great.”
Alaina clapped her hands. “I told you William is the best.”
The ring of a cell phone interrupted their celebration. Alaina pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced at the display.
“I’m sorry,” Alaina said. “I have to take this.”
Alaina said very little but Danae could tell by the tone of her voice that something was wrong. Her sister frowned as she slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Is everything okay?” Danae asked.
“No. My mother—the one who raised me—fell yesterday and broke her leg. My father died a couple years back, and my stepbrother and stepsister both work full-time and can’t afford to take off. They know I resigned from the firm and asked if I can stay with her for a week or so until the home health nurse is available.”
Disappointment rolled over Danae and she tried to fight it down. Of course Alaina had to go help the woman who’d raised her, but she’d been hoping for long hours to catch up with her sister—to pick her memory for glimpses of their life before their mother died. Surely Alaina, the oldest of the sisters, had memories of their childhood.
Alaina put her hand on Danae’s arm. “I’m so sorry to have to leave right now.”
“Don’t be silly,” Danae said. “We have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere, not even after my two weeks are up.”
Alaina leaned over and hugged her before rising from her chair. “I need to book a flight and pack a bag. You gave me your cell-phone number weeks ago, so I’ll call you as soon as I get a chance and you’ll have mine. I think there’s a midmorning flight to Boston that I may be able to catch if I hurry.”
Alaina hurried around the desk to plant a kiss on a blushing William’s cheek, then rushed out of the office, closing the door behind her.
William watched Alaina, smiling, then looked at Danae after she’d gone. “She’s quite a woman, your sister. I think you two are going to get along very well.”
“I’ve liked her since the moment I met her. That’s a real relief for me. That and the fact that she wasn’t disappointed that I’m her sister.”
“Why would she be?”
“I don’t know—I mean, she’s this big-shot attorney and I’m just a café waitress. We’re hardly in the same realm.”
“You had two very different upbringings after you were stripped from your home.” He gave her a kindly look. “In my attempts to locate you, I learned some about your life in California. You’ve done well for yourself, Danae. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
She sniffed at the unexpected kindness. “Thanks.”
A movie reel of where she’d come from up to where she was now flashed through her mind, and she realized that right now was the turning point—the time where she could choose to make everything in her life different or simply fade away into obscurity again. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.
“I can still have access to the house, right?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. It is—or will be—your property, after all. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do? Alaina made quite a dent in remodeling and cleaning. Her work in the kitchen transformed the room.”
She smiled. “I’m sure cleaning is something I could handle, but what I really want is the ability to go through the papers and pictures—see if I can find stuff about our past with our mother. I was so young...”
“And you want to remember.” William sighed. “It makes me so sad that you girls grew up without your mother. Ophelia was such a wonderful woman and her delight in you girls was apparent. Her death was a loss to the entire community but was devastating for you girls.”
He removed his glasses and rubbed them with a cleaning cloth on his desk, and Danae could tell he still felt her mother’s death. It made her both happy and sad that her mother was such a wonderful person she’d left such an impression, but then died without living her life to the fullest.
William slipped his glasses back on and cleared his throat. “It so happens that I need someone to go through the documents in the house. I haven’t been able to find anyone willing to do the work at the house, so I was going to have everything boxed up and shipped to an analyst in New Orleans. But if you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to pay you, instead of removing the documents.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Inventory lists, receipts—anything that gives me the ability to construct a list of property. I need to have it evaluated for tax purposes and such. So much is stuffed in the attic, closets and heaven only knows where else that it would take years to uncover it all. I hoped that the most valuable of objects would be contained on an asset listing or that the receipts would be filed with important household documents. Then I could valuate those items, assuming we locate them, and assign a base value to everything else.”
Danae could only imagine the mess that must be contained inside the massive old mansion. William definitely had his work cut out for him.
“I know you have your job at the café,” William continued, “so please don’t feel you have to accept my offer, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you the rate for the work is twenty-five dollars an hour.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s boring and dirty work, but requires concentration and attention to detail. The rate is standard for this sort of thing.”
Danae ran a mental budget through her head. The rate was considerably more than she made at the café, but once the job was over, what would she do? If she quit now, it would be unlikely that she could get the job back. The waitress she’d replaced six months ago had moved off to New Orleans with her boyfriend, but that relationship had ended and she was back in Calais and hoping for her old job back.
“I anticipate the work will take several months,” William said and Danae wondered if he could read her mind. “And during your two-week inheritance stint, you won’t be required to pay rent. The estate can hardly charge you for meeting the terms of the will, but the remainder of the lease has to stay in effect.”
In several months, she could easily save enough money to cover herself for more than a year. She had no debt and knew how to live on next to nothing. And maybe, if the job lasted long enough, she’d make enough to invest in the future she really wanted—to become a chef. Twenty-five an hour would go a good ways toward paying for culinary school in New Orleans.
“I think I’ll take that job,” she said.
William beamed. “Good. I’ll have my secretary draw up the paperwork.”
“Great,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.
“You know, I haven’t located Joelle yet, but I have a solid lead and expect to find your sister before month’s end. I have no doubt I can convince her to take part in the inheritance requirements.”
Danae shook her head. “What if she’s got a family, a job...things she can’t just up and leave?”
“Yes, all those things matter, but the reality is, with you and Alaina meeting the requirements, Joelle has no risk. Taking those two weeks out of her life will leave all three of you so wealthy that you’ll never have to work again unless you choose to.”
Danae sucked in a breath. “I didn’t... I had no idea.”
“Why would you? The estate looks like it needs a bulldozer rather than a cleaning, but the reality is your mother was an incredibly wealthy woman, and even your stepfather couldn’t manage to put a dent in her accumulated fortune.”
“So once Joelle finishes her two weeks, I...”
“Have the entire world at your fingertips. Whatever you desire for a future, you’ll have the means to pursue it.” He smiled. “Unless, of course, serving coffee and incredible pie to aging attorneys and disgruntled sheriffs is where your dreams lie.”
She laughed. “You make it sound so tempting.”
“Yes, well, as much as I’d love to see that beautiful smile at Johnny’s Café, I prefer for you to have what you want most. It may take a while,” he warned, “to locate Joelle, finish up her term and then push the entire mess through Louisiana’s often frustrating legal system. But it shouldn’t take more than eighteen months, even if Joelle doesn’t fulfill her time right until the end of the year allotted.”
“Eighteen months,” Danae repeated, trying to wrap her mind around everything the attorney had told her. She’d settled in Calais hoping to find out something about her past, with the ultimate dream of locating her sisters. Her mother’s will had come as a huge surprise to her and everyone else in Calais, but the knowledge that her mother’s fortune remained intact astounded her.
Even in her wildest dreams—even after hearing about her mother’s will—she’d never imagined much would come of it. Rather, she’d thought they would inherit a run-down monstrosity of a house that would be fraught with issues and impossible to sell. But this...this was something out of a fairy tale.
William opened his desk drawer and pulled out a huge black key. “This is the key to the front door,” he said as he pushed it across the desk to her. “It’s an old locking system, but it’s well-oiled. You shouldn’t have any problems with access.”
She picked up the key, feeling the weight of the old iron in her hand, and thought about everything that single object represented. It was quite literally going to unlock the rest of her life.
“There is one other thing,” William said.
A sliver of uncertainty ran through her at the apprehension she detected in the attorney’s voice. “Yes?”
“I’m sure you heard that Amos broke his foot and will be staying with his niece here in town.”
Danae nodded. Amos was the estate’s caretaker and no less than eighty years old, hence the general run-down state of the house and grounds. Her stepfather had refused to hire additional help, and the aging caretaker had been unable to maintain it all himself.