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Fort Worth, Texas, May 2, present day
I fear she may be mad.
She is good to me and I believe she loves me. But I
have heard tales of her treachery, her evil, her witchcraft. I have heard
she is not my real mother.
I must find out. Somehow, I must find out the truth.
A knock on her open office door made Karessa Austin
close the tattered diary and look up. She smiled at her assistant, Joy.
"Is everything ready?"
"All unpacked and ready for you to inspect."
Excitement surged through Karessa's body. A new
display for the museum always gave her goose bumps. It was better than
sex.
Well, at least better than the sex she'd experienced
lately.
She followed Joy from the executive offices of The
Gage-Austin Museum. Walking down the lushly carpeted hallway made her feel
closer to her parents. They'd died nine years ago when she was twenty-one,
but not before establishing this beautiful museum close to Trinity Park.
"Did you have the chance to read your
great-grandmother's diary?" Joy asked.
"Part of it. I'll read more after I've looked at the
display."
"Have you decided yet what you'll do with the
house?"
Karessa shook her head. "No. That's something else
I'll have to look at later. I have no idea why my Aunt Grace left me that
old Victorian."
"You told me she never married, never had any
children. You're the only family she had."
"I know, but I have no use for a house that's over a
century old. I run a museum, but I like modern conveniences. My condo
works perfectly for me."
Karessa pushed open the heavy metal door that led to
the back room of the museum. Deliveries were made here, as well as any
unpacking that had to be done. This is where she looked at all the items
that came into the museum and decided if they should go in an existing
display, or if a new display should be created.
She loved her job.
Her warehouse manager, Marco, smiled as she
approached him. "You'll love all of these, Karessa."
Karessa returned his smile. Marco was thirty-five,
dark from his Italian heritage, and built like Conan the Barbarian. If he
didn't work for her, she'd jump his bones in a second.
I can fire him, at least for a weekend. We can
have wild monkey sex, then I'll rehire him on Monday. With a body like
that, he's got to be incredible in bed.
Karessa sighed as her hormones jumped for joy.
They'd love it if she did exactly that. Unfortunately, her conscience
wouldn't allow her to take advantage of her employee.
Darn it.
Shifting her attention back to the large crates on
the warehouse floor, she watched as her men opened them and carefully
removed the paintings of Thomas Abernathy. Her heartbeat sped up at the
sight of the beautiful paintings of charming English cottages. The thatch
roofs, white walls, cloudy skies, colorful flowers...they all combined to
create the masterpieces for which he'd been famous.
There were seven in all, donated to the museum by
Abernathy's granddaughter. She could've picked any museum in the world to
display her grandfather's paintings. The fact that she'd picked The
Gage-Austin made Karessa so proud of her parents and the museum's sterling
reputation.
"I have the letter Ms. Abernathy sent with the
painting," Joy said. She opened the portfolio she always carried with her.
"She said she would've donated all eight in the series, but one painting
was bought by a private collector for, and I quote, 'an obscene amount of
money'."
"I can believe that." Karessa stood before the
painting called Twilight and stared at it. How she'd love to have
this hanging in her living room. Too bad she couldn't slip it into her
purse and take it home with her. "Did she mention the collector's name?
Maybe we could make arrangements for him or her to lend it to us for the
showing."
"Yes, it's right here. His name is Maxwell
Hennessey."
She shivered at the sound of his name, but not from
pleasure. Maxwell Hennessey was the lowest form of scum on the earth. She
hoped she never saw him again for the rest of her life.
"Do you want me to contact him?" Joy asked.
"No," Karessa said quickly. Realizing her voice
sounded sharp, she cleared her throat and smiled at Joy. "No, that's fine.
We'll have a wonderful showing with the seven painting."
"Are you sure? I can contact Ms. Abernathy and try
to find--"
"That won't be necessary, Joy."
The puzzled look in Joy's eyes didn't surprise
Karessa. Normally, she would jump at the chance to have a full collection
on display. But she'd rather eat raw liver for a week than have anything
to do with Maxwell Hennessey.
It wasn't exactly an uncommon name, yet Karessa had
no doubt the Maxwell Hennessey who owned the eighth painting and the one
she'd been involved with five years ago were the same man. Max collected
things of value and beauty. He liked to possess things...including the
heart of a naive twenty-five-year-old who fell in love much too quickly.
"Joy, will you take care of this? I'd like to leave
a little early and drive out to my great-aunt's house."
"Of course. The Egyptian display is set to come down
from the Red Room Friday. Do you want this collection set up there?"
"That'll be perfect. I'll want the flowers changed,
too...something with an English garden theme."
"I'll take care of it."
Leaving the details in her capable assistant's
hands, Karessa left the room and returned to her office. She began
gathering up her things, intending to go home after she drove by her
great-aunt's house. She'd have to talk to a real estate agent about
selling the house and thirty acres as soon as possible.
She hadn't seen the house since she was a young
teenager. Her great-aunt had been quite wealthy, and loved to travel.
Rarely did she stay at home for longer than a month at a time. When she
did light long enough for a visit, she always went to Karessa's condo with
gifts, mementoes, and pictures of her trip. There's been no reason for her
to go back to Aunt Grace's house.
Her great-aunt's death from a stroke a month ago had
been a shock. She'd always been so healthy, so vivacious, Karessa assumed
she'd live forever. Now, with Grace's death, Karessa no longer had any
family. She was totally alone.
Where did this horrible case of self-pity come
from? Straightening her shoulders, Karessa picked up her briefcase and
purse from the bookshelf behind her desk. She glanced over her desk to
make sure everything had been put in its place. The tattered diary on the
corner drew her attention. She'd planned to leave it here, where it could
be locked up in the safe. On impulse, she picked it up and placed it in
her briefcase so she could finish reading it at home.
* * * * *
Max Hennessey closed The Washington Post,
folded it neatly, and laid it next to his plate. The article he'd expected
to find wasn't there. That meant his source hadn't lied and nothing had
been leaked to the press.
At least, not yet.
Rumors of hidden treasure often brought out the ones
looking to make a quick buck. More often than not, rumors of hidden
treasure were forgotten as soon as they were heard. Getting something for
nothing would be too easy.
Max had become a multi-millionaire by following
those rumors.
He had plenty of time. He'd finish up his business
here in Washington, D.C. before he headed for Houston. Once in the Lone
Star State, he'd contact his source again for exact instructions on where
the bearer bond was hidden.
As long as he stayed away from Fort Worth, he'd be
fine. He didn't want to take the slightest chance that he might run into
Karessa.
Thinking of the beautiful blonde still caused a
sharp pain in his chest. He'd deceived her and dumped her when the lure of
fortune proved too much to resist.
Money in the bank didn't make him less lonely.
He picked up his cup and sipped the cooling coffee.
He'd wondered many times how his life would be now if he'd stayed with
her, if he hadn't let greed color his judgment.
There'd been women since Karessa. He was a healthy
forty-year-old man who greatly enjoyed sex. He knew women found him
attractive. Finding an available bed partner had never been a problem.
Finding someone to love was an entirely different
matter.
"May I warm your coffee, Mr. Hennessey?"
Max looked up at the lovely brunette waitress. She'd
been especially attentive to him for the three days he'd been at this
hotel. He had the feeling it would take very little encouragement for her
to warm his bed as well as his coffee.
Smiling, he held up his cup. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome. Is there anything else I can
do for you?"
Time to move in for the kill. "As a matter of
fact, there is. I'll be leaving town in a few days and haven't had the
chance to do much sight-seeing. Business hasn't let me play tourist.
"It would be a shame for you to leave Washington
without seeing the sights."
"My thoughts exactly. So..." He glanced at her name
tag. "...Leslie, would you be interested in showing me around town,
perhaps have dinner with me tonight?"
She smiled. "I'd love to."
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