At the word “illegal,” Rachel inhaled a sharp breath, and Kim smirked inside, knowing the word would have the exact effect she was looking for. Rachel nodded her head slowly and kept her eyes planted on the table.
“I know you’re trying to decide if you can trust me, Rachel, and I assure you that I’m on your side. You are the victim here.”
Rachel’s eyes flicked up at her now, and she relaxed a little.
“So what exactly is it that you need from me?” Rachel asked.
“In order for us to prosecute Mrs. Capshaw, we need to have credible witnesses willing to go to the stand.”
“If you have enough evidence, why would you need me as a witness?”
Kim shook her head slowly as she studied Rachel. She wasn’t as stupid as she initially thought, so she’d have to be smart about her next words.
“That’s the thing, Rachel, we don’t exactlyneedyou, but testimony coming from someone who was victimized by the Capshaws, who were then paid off to keep quiet, would help the conviction stick. And we could negotiate immunity for you if you cooperate.”
Rachel’s eyes darted around; she looked physically ill and afraid.
“I’m in big trouble, aren’t I? Rachel asked, misty-eyed.
“I understand that you’re scared, Rachel, but believe me, the people of Hamby are fed up with the Capshaws and the way they evade any criminal justice against them. If you help put an end to this, no one will think any less of you.”
Kim reached across the table and placed her hand on top of Rachel’s. As soon as Kim’s hand touched hers, Rachel felt a chill that flowed through her and wrapped around her spine. She did not like this detective or the position she was putting her in. She’d been through enough and was finally just enjoying her life. Now, she may be going to jail because of it, and none of it was fair.
“So when will I need to be in Hamby?” Rachel asked, while removing her hands from Kim’s and placing them in her lap.
“It’ll be at least a few more weeks, so just be prepared to jump on a plane and head back home. I’m sure there are people there who miss you and want to know that you are alive and well.”
The last thing Kim wanted was to scare her and have her not believe her story. If she could somehow get Rachel to go back to Hamby, then the Capshaws’ house of cards would come tumbling down. Rachel nodded her head, and a smile spread across Kim’s mouth that looked like something out of a horror movie.
12
the capshaw curse
Paula stood naked in her bathroom, the floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting an image she barely recognized. She was back home. Back in the sprawling Beverly Hills mansion she loved so much but, ironically, spent precious little time in. With Garrett away on a movie shoot overseas—another continent, another time zone—she was utterly alone in the fifteen-thousand-square-foot home.Again.
Once she'd landed, they'd hadtheconversation, the one where he'd backpedaled from his cold, stunned reaction to her pregnancy. It wasn't that hewasn'thappy, he'd insisted as he packed for the new movie he was now directing. It was just... the demands of his job, the being away, the recent, insane drama in Hamby with Kayden and Lana. Their lives were going to have to drastically change, he'd said, his voice strained but comforting. He apologized, reassured her, and thatwasall she needed... wasn't it? She’d told him it was, just to get her own head in the right place, to stop the panic. But the memory of his initial, gut-punch of a reaction lingered.
Once he took off for the airport, her husband hadn't left hertotallyalone, of course. There were tons of security personnel now, a silent, roaming presence just beyond the walls ever sincethe incident with Kim. He didn’t trust Kim any more than anyone else did, and with good reason. But the added security, meant to make her feel safe, instead made the house feel less like a home and more like a gilded, sterile cage.
Her hand, trembling slightly, rubbed across her stomach. She turned to the side, examining her profile. Yup. It was no longer just bloating. She was most definitely, undeniably pregnant. She had no idea what having a baby wouldmeanfor her life right now. Up to this point, she and Garrett had no responsibilities outside themselves and their careers. They could jump on a plane, go to whatever city or country they wanted, without a worry in the world.
A baby meant slowing down. A baby meant roots. She was ready, she told herself firmly. Being thirty-four years old, the time had finally come to raise a family. Ready or not, here it comes. Sometimes the best life has to offer comes when least planned or expected. Kayden and Lana’s relationship was a testament to that, without all the hell that had happened afterward anyway.
Paula walked into her palatial, expensive closet and flipped on the light. The sudden brightness was blinding. Rows and rows of designer clothes, racks with hundreds of pairs of shoes, and shelves of bags and accessories stood in stark, colorful contrast to the pure white carpet, walls, and cabinetry. She reached for her favorite, oversized cashmere sweater and pulled it on, the soft material enveloping her.
A small, genuine smile crept across her face as she realized, pretty soon, she wouldn’t be able to fit into almostanythingin this ridiculous, beautiful room. The smile faded as quickly as it came. Garrett knew. But that was it. She wasn’t ready to speak to her mother. Telling Maureen anything personal felt like a betrayal of herself. And she definitely couldn’t tell Kayden, not after their recent, devastating loss.
And Lana. Her heart ached. How could sheevertell Lana? It wasn’t fair. It wasn't fair that they had lost their baby, and here she was, pregnant and conflicted. Telling her about this... this "bundle of joy"... wouldn't make matters any easier. It would feel like twisting a knife.I’ll wait,she decided.I'll wait until I absolutely have to.
But that still wasn’t the only thing she was afraid of.
With a heavy sigh, Paula resigned herself to getting dressed for the night's dinner with her friends. She’d blame her lack of drinking on a stomach issue, or maybe jet lag. Her friends were super nosy, their lives a whirlwind of gossip that they spread faster than any tabloid in town. The last thing she needed was them speculating.
Her cell phone rang from the other room, the sharp, electronic sound slicing through the oppressive quiet of the house. Her entire body went rigid. Her heart didn't just stop; itseized. She walked back into the bedroom, her legs feeling like lead, and stared at the cube-like device on the top of her vast, empty canopy bed.
The screen read:Hamby Securities, Ltd.
Paula’s breath escaped her in a ragged, desperate whoosh, and she nearly sagged with relief.Oh, thank God.She had been so afraid, so utterly terrified, that it would be Taylor calling her. Again. She didn't want to talk to him unless it was about business, and even then, she tried to keep the conversations short, her voice clipped and cold.
