Behind the Facade Read online

  BEHIND THE FAÇADE

  A novel by

  Rebecca and Victoria Heap

  BEHIND THE FAÇADE

  Rebecca and Victoria Heap

  Copyright © 2013

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover design © Paul Hesketh

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the authors, nor be otherwise circulated in any other binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

  Find Rebecca and Victoria online at: http://beccabentley.wix.com/heaptwins

  Dedicated to twins everywhere.

  From being little, we have shared our tears and laughter, our highs and lows, our struggles and successes. We have also shared our hopes and dreams and this novel is the realisation of our biggest dream of all.

  And a special thanks to our husbands for their unfailing patience and support.

  “Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there's love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong.”

  Ella Jane Fitzgerald (1917-1996);

  Jazz Vocalist

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  PROLOGUE

  In her room Brenna Monaghan submitted to the familiar routine of being buffed and beautified but her mind was whirling. As Mel, her attendant, helped her into a slinky jade dress and a pair of silver heels Brenna asked her, “Do you know anything about this man I’m going to meet?”

  Mel shook her head as she fixed the tiny buckles on her shoes. “No, but I do know you’re one lucky girl!”

  “Don’t you think it’s strange that he came forward when he did?”

  “I wouldn’t be one to question good fortune, love. It can just as quickly ‘poof’!” Widening her arms she then clapped her hands together by way of demonstration.

  She finished zipping her up and turned her to face the full-length mirror. “You look fabulous! You’ll knock him dead!”

  Brenna looked at herself in the glass and flipping her hair couldn’t disagree. She loved the rich green against the vibrant red of her hair. She began to feel better. Maybe this man would even be worth it? He might be loaded and good-looking.

  However, Brenna’s misgivings began to re-surface as she began the journey to her sponsor saviour. Now ensconced in a sleek black Mercedes, having made a speedy transfer from helicopter to car, she fretted over what lay ahead. How long was she supposed to stay with him? What if he expected more than just dinner with her? After all, she owed him quite a debt for coming to her rescue like he had. Her stomach trembled uneasily and it suddenly seemed all too likely that she was placing herself in a very risky situation.

  “Can we go back? I think I’ve changed my mind,” she addressed the driver.

  Sebastian Sethos looked up and into the mirror at her but didn’t slow his speed. “We’re nearly there now. Don’t fret, sweetie. Here,” he leaned over his shoulder and passed her a small black device with a button at its centre. “That’s a pager. Put it in your purse. Anytime you want to leave, press it and I’ll come get you.”

  Her insides untwisted themselves a little, as she accepted the pager gratefully. “Any time?” she echoed.

  He nodded, “I’ll be right there. Promise. Now here we are.”

  She realised they had indeed reached their destination as he smoothly turned the car up a long gravel driveway. Her attention was drawn to the lights at its crest, which illuminated the mullioned windows and Greek portico of a magnificent red-stoned edifice of a house. She gasped in awe. Reaching the top, Sebastian manoeuvred the car around an ornate stone fountain, the cascading water sparkling in the lights from the house, and drew to a stop outside the formidable front doors.

  Brenna’s stomach now clenched in nervous knots again. Sebastian scooted out of his seat and opened the car door for her. She gingerly stepped out on her spindly heels and he offered her his arm, which she took with gratitude, escorting her safely to the doorstep. She anxiously gripped that arm as the doors opened before they’d even knocked, the owner clearly already alert to their arrival.

  Sebastian whispered in her ear, “Make a good impression.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and was gone.

  It was really no surprise, she told herself, when the doors opened to reveal a well-dressed but distinctly overweight florid-faced gentleman, but still she quailed. Who had she been kidding? Had she really been hoping for someone blessed with looks as well as wealth? She just wasn’t that lucky. Never mind. She had the pager if she needed it. This fifty-something walrus of a man smiled a welcome and took her arm.

  “Come in, come in. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you Brenna, for such a long time. My name is Williamson. Dominic Williamson, but please just call me Dom.”

  Some time later, Dom stood up from the table they had shared, saying “I’d now like to show you something, Brenna. Follow me, if you would?”

  Brenna was happy to oblige. She’d been plied with spectacular food, very expensive wine and humorous tales of Dom’s college experiences in an obvious effort by him to find some commonality with her. He’d not once patronised her and listened with interest to her description of her life at home. It was flattering to be shown such respect by a man as intelligent and successful as he clearly was, in spite of the difference in their age and experience. Whilst initially disappointed she was now feeling rather pleased. Surely Dom was living proof of that old adage ‘appearances can be deceptive’. He’d proved to be a very convivial host and had shown that his interest went far deeper than appreciation of her physical appearance. Perhaps this is what it would have been like to have a father? He’d referred to himself as her patron, not liking the term sponsor when they’d touched on his future role in her career. She liked that.

  Having knocked back more alcohol than was probably good for her, along with a generous slug of pleasant conversation, she jounced out to meet him in the main reception area feeling buoyant. He beckoned her to join him at the top of some stairs that led off the back of the main hallway.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, curious and peering down the dark stairwell.

  “A very secret, very special place,” he told her in almost reverent tones. He turned to her. “One I’ve prepared just for you.”

  Brenna froze and her stomach roiled in confusion. She looked into his once benevolent eyes. What she saw there left no room for doubt. He meant to do unspeakable things to her. They glimmered with a deep, dark maniacal glee. Frantic, she dug into her purse, frenziedly pressing the pager Sebastian had given to her.

  Dominic grabbed her hand and easily pried it from her fingers. Then, rather than throwing it aside as she’d anticipated, he studied it with growing amusement. “
Do you know what this is, Brenna?” He giggled. “It’s a garage door remote control. I’m afraid we don’t have any garage doors here that will open for you.”

  Any hope of assistance gone, her only remaining choice was to make a desperate run for it. But she was too slow, made sluggish by the wine. He seized her by the arm as she turned, his grip bruising. “Don’t try and run. You’re mine. You always have been. Duly bought and paid for.”

  She screamed with the horror of capture and betrayal, twisting in his grasp, but it was no use. He had the strength of the brute he truly was. He struck her forcibly in the face and after the pain exploded it was something of a relief when she swiftly fell into the numbing blackness of unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER 1

  Clouds gathered, pushed and pummelled by an angry wind and rain began to whisper down from the bruised skies. Katherine Pearson stood at the bedroom window, staring out at the darkening landscape. Hearing footsteps, she turned, the silk skirt of her dress rustling softly, as her fiancé Robert Spencer entered the room.

  He paused on the threshold and took time to study her, eyes gleaming appreciatively. She was wearing a crimson evening gown which showed off her svelte figure and brought out the red glints in her hair.

  “You look amazing,” he said and walked forward, with his arms outstretched.

  Kate sank into his embrace and sighed wearily. “There are so many of these parties running up to Christmas, I hardly have time to catch my breath before the next one is upon us. Do you mind if we don’t stay so late tonight?”

  Robert stepped back from her and smiled down into her face. “Of course not, babe. I don’t think I’ll find it too hard to leave early when I have the prospect of a warm bed with you to come back to.” He grinned seductively and, as usual, she was amazed at how quickly his charm disarmed her as heat, like little fireflies, swarmed over her skin.

  He began to drop light teasing kisses on to her lips. “You’ll ruin my lipstick!” she protested, laughing.

  “Do you really care?” he replied, amusement bubbling in his voice. He pulled her closer to him and covered her lips with his, probing her mouth with his tongue.

  Just as she opened up to him, he cut off the kiss abruptly. “Damn!” he exclaimed, breaking away from her.

  “What? What is it?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Sorry,” he said reaching for her wrap. “Put this on. I’ve just remembered that there’s an important case I need to review before my meeting Monday morning. We’re going to have to stop off at the office on the way to the party.” Robert occupied the senior manager’s position in the accounts section of her father’s Bespoke Cars company. As treasurer of her father’s charity, Kate visited the office regularly and that was where she had first bumped in to him, quite literally.

  “Can’t you access it from your laptop?” Kate queried.

  He sighed. “Yes, but I left it at work, didn’t I? I know you hate it when I’m glued to the computer all weekend. I meant to bring the paper file home with me. I’m sorry.”

  As he wrapped the luxurious garment around her shoulders, he ran a hand up her arm and his mouth momentarily lingered on the soft, tempting line of her neck. His breath sent shivers up her spine. Kate turned to him and their lips inevitably met again. This time she was the one who broke the contact. Pushing him away, she said “If we need to make a detour you should definitely stop this! You’ll make us terribly late!”

  “You’re right,” he said, “but you’re so terribly tempting.” She laughed and turning from him, she examined her face in her mirror and hastily reapplied her lipstick.

  Robert hurried down the stairs. Kate followed more cautiously, berating her feet for their long and stubborn refusal to accustom themselves to high heels. Jeremy, their driver, met them at the bottom but Robert dismissed him, insisting that he felt like driving and wanted to keep a clear head for the next day.

  The night was swiftly spreading its dark wings over the city and the wind whirled around them every so often, delivering frenzied sprays of rain that battered the car like bullets. Robert slid the BMW smoothly into the courtyard of the Martin de Pores building and halted outside the main entrance.

  He turned to Kate. “I won’t be a minute,” he said, dropping a quick peck on to her cheek and squeezing her hand.

  Kate watched him hurry into the office and then lowered her head to begin scrutiny of her short nails, wondering whether she should change the stance of a lifetime and visit a manicurist.

  She raised her head in surprise when the driver’s door opened and Robert reappeared, slightly breathless, after departing only seconds before.

  “Katherine,” he said, an urgent rasp to his voice, “The alarm is disabled and the doors are disengaged.”

  Her eyes widened and she was about to speak when he grabbed hold of her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s probably just a system failure or power outage. I’m going back in to check things out.”

  Kate clutched hold of him. “Are you sure that’s wise, Rob? What if it’s an intruder?”

  “I don’t want to contact the police when it could be nothing.”

  She still clung to him, her stomach tightening uneasily. “What if...?” she began.

  He silenced her by placing a kiss on her trembling lips. “I’m a big boy,” he said, “I can look after myself. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

  He pulled himself from her grasp and was out of the car and racing back to the building before she could voice any further protest. She stared after him, unable to shake off a feeling of foreboding. Despite the warm air blasting out from the car heater, she shivered as thunder growled overhead like a predatory animal awakening from its sleep.

  As time ticked by with no sign of Robert returning, Kate began to feel more apprehensive. She glanced at the illuminated digital clock on the car dash. It had only been ten minutes but it felt like forever because she was waiting, alone and anxious. She focused on the entrance to the building, willing Robert to return quickly so she could shake off her misgivings and they could carry on with their night together. It was now ten to nine and they were due at the party for nine o’clock.

  When it reached nine o’clock and Robert had still not emerged from the building, Kate decided she couldn’t stand this tense inactivity any longer. Grabbing her phone from her handbag, she hastily pressed the speed dial. She heard the phone ring out and waited for Robert to pick up but it eventually reverted to voicemail. She made several more attempts but failed to reach him.

  Now her worst imaginings broke loose through her mind, like a fluttering throng of black-winged birds. Had Robert disturbed an intruder? He could be hurt or in some kind of trouble. She must not waste any more time. She struggled to still her trembling fingers as she dialled the police.

  Katherine felt a lot calmer when she had finished her call to the police. She had been near hysterics when they answered but they had calmed her down. Talking through the events had helped to anchor her fears and give her a sense of control over the situation. They had listened to her carefully, despite the fact she had not got much to tell them. She could not even say if a crime had been committed, only that the building was unlocked, her fiancée hadn’t returned and he wasn’t answering his phone. Commended for not panicking and entering the building herself, she’d been instructed to wait until an officer got to her and checked things out.

  Suddenly she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked across at the offices and cried out with relief, offering a silent prayer to God for ending this nerve-racking episode. Robert was there and had returned at last. She flung open the door of the car and ran to meet him in sheer relief and delight, heedless of the rain that was still spitting down from the sullen sky. Until this moment, she had truly been convinced something horrible had happened

  As she neared him, she blurted “Rob! Thank God! Like a fool I’ve phoned the police but....” She abruptly broke off her sentence as lightening flashed and the realisation fl
ared, equally bright in her mind, that the man in front of her was not Robert. She tried vainly to halt her forward momentum.

  The man had not even been looking at her but behind him into the building. He had somehow missed her approach but, at the sound of her voice, he turned towards her and shot out a hand that was as swift and as startling as a snake. Instead of falling into the welcoming arms of her lover, she found herself grabbed harshly and spun around, with her arm held behind her in a vice like grip.

  She had little time to adjust herself to the shock of this unexpected situation and instinctively cried out in fear and surprise. Her captor immediately put his other hand over her mouth and snarled, “Who the ‘ell are you and what are you doing here?” an Irish lilt doing nothing to soften the censure in his tone.

  It struck her as ironic that this was the very question she would have asked him if she could, but with his hand held so firmly on her mouth, she could not speak. But there was no need to reply. He answered for her with the words, “Of course...! You must be his bitta fluff.”

  She struggled then, fearing not for herself but for Robert. He tightened his hold and said, “What was it you said just now? You’ve gone an’ called the cops? Shit!”

  As if on cue a police car then turned into the car park, its headlights illuminating them briefly before it came to a halt. She felt him tense and in contrast she sagged with relief. Now this would all be over she thought.

  As the police officer was busy getting out of the car, her aggressor pulled her upright with a jerk, and his voice hissed urgently in her ear, “As far as they are concerned, I am your boyfriend and there is absolutely nothing wrong here. There’s a bomb in that building. If you do anything to alert them, I’ll blow it all to ‘ell, along with your fella. You’d better act your part well if you value his life.”

  With these words the man destroyed any delusionary hope Katherine had momentarily felt and his next move took her completely off guard. He held his grip on her arm but subtly and quickly changed their positions, so she was facing him, took her other arm in his grasp and pulled her towards him, his mouth meeting hers before she had any chance to resist.