Читать книгу Betrayal Of Trust - Tracey V. Bateman - Страница 11

Raven Mahoney’s jaw dropped as the sickening thud of truth slammed her with the force of a major-league line drive to the gut. While she’d been playing the dutiful maid of honor and helping with wedding preliminaries for her sister, Denni, she’d just missed out on reporting the press conference of the year. As far as Raven was concerned, that smacked of injustice.

From the TV screen in Denni’s living room, cameras flashed at dizzying intervals. Raven could almost feel the claustrophobia she experienced every time she stood among the crowd of reporters, fighting for the chance to ask a question.

And she almost always got her chance to ask the tough ones, but not so tough the speaker wouldn’t respond. She knew her success was a nice combination of her looks (especially if the speaker was a guy) and her instincts about how to ask the right questions so they sounded less intimidating. At thirty-five, she’d gained a lot of savvy in her field and she was ready to move one more step up the ladder of success.

Only, the teenybopper on the screen in front of her was getting the story, she, Raven should be getting. Something akin to a growl rose in Raven’s throat, and her predatory nature kicked in.

Enjoy the cameras while you can, little girl, because as soon as I get home, you are going down.

Raven closed her eyes and imagined herself at that press conference. Where she wanted to be. Despite the jumble of cameras and elbows jabbing into her head, she itched to be in the thick of things. To prove, once again, her value to the station. Ten years on the job had to count for something, didn’t it?

Her chest tightened, and pressure began to build. But this time, the claustrophobia struck in the living room of her soon-to-be-wed sister’s Victorian home. Being in the bosom of her loving family suddenly felt more like standing in a trash compactor as the walls inched closer and closer together until finally they squished her, a sensation that had grown familiar over the past few years, ever since her mother’s death, when she’d learned the truth about who Raven Mahoney really was.

In retrospect, it all made sense, but the revelation only served to make her feel more like an outsider in the midst of this family—and all these years later, Mac still hadn’t set the record straight. Nor had Raven. Mac had no idea she knew. And as angry as she was with him for keeping the truth from her, she didn’t have the heart to confront him.

“I can’t believe Matthew Strong is pulling out of the race.” Keri, Raven’s younger sister, married barely a year herself to her childhood sweetheart, flopped onto the overstuffed green couch next to Raven. “I was going to vote for that guy.”

“Shhh!” Raven glared at her sister and pressed the volume-up button on the remote.

“Sheesh, so-o-rry.”

“What’s going on?” Denni, the middle sister, entered the room, her eyes on the TV.

“Shh, or you’ll get your head yanked off.” Keri’s exaggerated whisper resonated through the room.

“I’ll talk if I want. It’s my house. Besides, I’m the bride and everyone must cater to my whims. So there.” Denni stuck her tongue out at Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes at the childish gesture, but couldn’t resist a smile before shifting her focus back to the TV.

Her claws extended at the sight of the so-called reporter staring out from the screen: Kellie Cruise, an upstart and a spoiled-rotten brat—way too under-qualified and inexperienced to be covering a press conference. Especially one of this magnitude. But nepotism at its finest continued to be at work for the daughter of the station manager. And Raven knew if she didn’t act fast, the just-out-of-college kid was going to get Bruce King’s job when he retired. The job that Raven wanted. Deserved.

“What’s going on?” Mac Mahoney’s booming hint of an Irish brogue filled the room.

“Shh!” The three girls spoke in unison.

“Hey, now. Is that any way to speak to your father?” He scowled, but quieted, as his attention turned to the blond-haired, blue-eyed reporter who was wrapping up the breaking-news coverage.

“We’ve been told that Mr. Strong will not be answering any questions on the subject of his withdrawal. Now or ever. His decision is final and is based on personal reasons which he apparently has no intention of revealing.”

The camera shifted back to the studio where the white-haired, almost-retired anchor stared out at the TV audience.

“There you have it, folks. In the political upset of the year, a candidate whom analysts and polls favored by a three-to-one margin has withdrawn his name from the race for Senate with only six weeks left until the primary.” The older gentleman heaved a sigh. “To reiterate…with no warning to his supporters and no explanation, Matthew Strong has pulled out of the race for the Missouri Senate.”

If he’d said, “And may God help us all,” Bruce couldn’t have been more obviously biased. It was only too apparent that he had had high hopes for Matthew’s election to Senate. No matter how much she might agree, Raven couldn’t help but be a bit irritated with his transparency. Part of good reporting was remaining detached, keeping your opinion carefully masked behind the facts and nothing else. Perhaps it was simply that after so many years behind that desk, Bruce didn’t feel he had anything to hide—namely his opinion.

With a sigh, Raven switched off the set as regular programming resumed. Tense silence reigned in the room and she knew her family was struggling not to ask the question. Finally, she could take the tension no more and she shot to her feet. “Okay, yes. It’s Matthew.”

“Your Matthew?” Mac looked at her over half glasses.

“Yes.” She rubbed her throbbing temple with the balls of her fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure. My Matthew. Regret for what might have been all those years ago shot through her. She hadn’t allowed herself second guesses. No regretting her decision. So why was her heart suddenly about to pound out of her chest?

She could still see Matthew’s expression of bewilderment as she’d placed the diamond engagement ring into his palm and curled his fingers around the token. She’d walked away. Transferred to a different school. And that was the last time she’d spoken to him.

Keri’s voice brought her back to the present. “Wow. I wonder what his folks think of him leaving the race. He was a surefire win for his party. Especially with his father dying last year. I don’t think Missouri is ready to live without a Strong representing us in Congress. What was Matthew thinking?”

All eyes turned to Raven as though she should know the answer to the question. “How should I know? I haven’t seen or spoken with the guy since college.”

Raven fingered the cell phone hooked to her waistband. She itched to phone Ken at the station and get the scoop. The press had to know more than they were reporting. No one pulled out of a race without giving some sort of an explanation—even a bogus one. Was there a gag order? She was tempted to make the call, but doing so now would betray her impatience to have this wedding over with so she could get on with her life. She’d been here two days as it was—long enough. Too long, actually, from the looks of things.

Matthew! Couldn’t you have waited a few more days to do this idiotic thing?

Fingering a loose thread on the arm of the couch, Raven considered the new development. What could have happened to make Matt give away the chance eventually to run for president? That was his dream, his goal, not only to follow in his old man’s footsteps, but actually to exceed his accomplishments. His family had groomed him for the White House. He’d had no other ambition except for marrying her. And other than the monkey wrench of a broken engagement, his plan was failsafe—undergrad, law school, interning under an incumbent senator, eventually running for senator himself and serving his constituents until it was time to run for president. Raven was supposed to have helped him decide when the time came. They would have been in their late forties, probably, by the time he was seasoned enough and ready to win the White House. And she’d had no doubt that with or without her he would someday be the president of the United States.

Now what would he do? Return to his law practice? Given his fame, that might be difficult.

She clenched her fist to keep from snatching the phone from its holder. If she could just get back to work, she could figure all this out.

“No way, Rave. You are not wimping out on my wedding, so you can just forget it. I don’t care how big the story is. My wedding is more important. And you’re not ruining it by leaving me one bridesmaid short.”

Jerked from her thoughts by Denni’s firm statement, Raven mustered up her most indignant and wrongfully accused expression. “I can’t believe you think I would consider leaving before the wedding.”

Denni rolled her eyes. “Pul-ease. I recognize that ‘get me out of here before I suffocate’ look. You’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of my wedding so you can go back to Kansas City today—and don’t bother to deny it.”

Heat crept to Raven’s cheeks. “All right. You have me. It crossed my mind for a second. But that’s all—and not really seriously.”

Denni’s responding scowl increased Raven’s shame. She hated feeling guilty and it seemed like she always felt guilty around her family. They expected too much. More than she could give. She knew she was a terrible sister, a terrible daughter. Her gaze focused past her sister to Mac Mahoney. The gruff, but tender retired Irish cop who had raised her, loved her, taught her never to settle for second best at anything in her life.

He looked up from studying the TV listings and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

Raven fought to hold back tears of melancholy.

She might feel like a terrible daughter, but then, she wasn’t really his daughter at all, was she?

The door to the sleek black Lincoln closed behind Matt amid the flashing of cameras and a myriad of questions thrown at him from determined reporters hoping he’d actually answer one. But they didn’t understand. His public image didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing did at this point: keeping Jamie out of the line of fire perpetuated by a biological father with ulterior motives. No telling how far that man might go to extort money from the family. He’d never get custody of Jamie, but he could drag them all through the mud. And that wasn’t something Matt was willing to chance. He’d sacrificed everything to ensure it.

“That’s that,” he said into the airspace between the front and back seats. The driver gave him a quick glance in the rearview mirror and then returned his attention to the road as he realized Matt wasn’t speaking to him.

Exhausted, Matt slouched back against the leather seat and pulled at his silk tie, loosening its stranglehold around his neck. A tangle of frustration, disappointment, anger, all rolled into a lead ball in his stomach, nauseating him.

Leaning his head back against the seat, he closed his burning eyes. He refused tears. Refused to regret his decision. It was the only choice he could have made. The right choice.

Still, he had to wonder how a life that had been so carefully planned could have ended up so off-course. By now he should have been married with two or three kids of his own, should be six weeks away from accepting his party’s nomination for Senate, and only a few months from the next step in his destiny: Capitol Hill, the springboard to the Oval Office.

Backtracking in his mind, he could see that everything started going sour the day Raven Mahoney returned to school after attending her mother’s funeral. He should have gone with her to her hometown of Briarwood, Missouri, in the first place, but she’d insisted it was something she had to do on her own. Her stubbornness was never more evident than when she was trying to prove she didn’t need anyone to lean on. He scowled.

He’d watched her career evolve through the years as a reporter and weekend anchor for Channel 23. She grew more beautiful by the day, it seemed. His throat tightened with longing. No matter how many women he’d dated over the years, he couldn’t get Raven out of his mind. No one measured up, and any relationship he entered into ended within months.

He clenched his fists, still able to feel the prick of the diamond against the soft flesh of his palm when she’d broken their engagement. Maybe it would have been easier to accept…easier to move on…if only she’d told him why.

For the first time in his life, he’d been helpless to achieve his goal. Never had he felt such pain as when he watched Raven walk away from him. He’d hoped she’d glance back, knowing if she did, he could go after her and bring her back to him. But she squared her shoulders, kept her head erect, and never so much as slowed her steps as she walked out of sight.

When he’d spotted her on the local news, it had been all he could do to refrain from picking up the phone. But she’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t the man for her. So he left her alone, but found himself watching her left hand for signs she might be engaged or married. So far, so good.

“Do you want to go in through the main gate, Mr. Strong? Or should I keep going?”

Matthew glanced at his driver, and then out the window. The gate in front of his family home was thick with reporters. “No. Drive on by. We’ll circle for a while. Maybe they’ll get tired and go away. If not, I’ll stay at a hotel.”

They drove the streets of Kansas City until dark, stopping only once at a drive-through. The greasy burger and fries sat heavily in Matthew’s stomach as he tried to pray for wisdom. Peace. How long would it take for all of this to blow over and for the media to lose interest? Not soon enough for his comfort. In the meantime, how would he keep his sister and Jamie away from public scrutiny?