Annette kept her gaze focused out the window. She didn’t want to see the sympathy in his eyes. Hearing it overtake his voice was bad enough. She didn’t need any damned body’s sympathy.
“Eventually Paula became a burden once more and she was taken away. Only this time, I was forced to stay. They put my sister in a state mental hospital.” She turned to face Carson then. “Have you ever had the occasion to visit one of those lovely places?”
He nodded, his expression grave.
“I was thirteen. There was nothing I could do.” She stared out the window once more. “But time passed and I grew up. Grew wiser and braver. Finally, the day I turned sixteen, I left for good. I’d run away several times, but I’d gotten caught and dragged back each time. No one believed my rape accusations. A little mock investigation would be carried out and I’d end up back with the same family or someplace newthat was just as bad or worse. But they didn’t find me that last time. I’d learned all the right tricks. I headed for Nashville and all the glamour Music City had to offer.”
“You turned tricks on the street to survive.”
She flinched, didn’t mean to. He would have known that part. At eighteen she’d gotten busted. Twice. “Yes.”
Then she’d gotten lucky.
“When I was nineteen I hooked up with a more high-class operation.” She’d been one of the lucky ones. She had stayed clear of drugs and worked hard to keep herself in shape. “I was working a private party at a hotel and I caught the eye of Otis Fleming.”
“The perfect alliance,” Carson said, sarcasm squeezing out the sympathy. “You kept his sex life interesting and he taught you how to utilize your assets.”
Fury crammed against her sternum. She pivoted on her heel and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about our relationship.”
Another of those condescending waves of his hand. “Enlighten me.”
“Otis is like a father to me. He took me in, taught me how to play with the big boys. How to make myself invaluable. He showed me how to save Paula and myself.” She owed him everything.
Annette worked at calming her emotions before continuing. Emotions worked against one at a time like this. She had to be cool, in control.
“I’m curious.” Carson propped his right ankle on his left knee. “What exactly did he teach you?”
“How to glean and use knowledge.” She faced him now. “How to take a problem and solve it and gain money and markers doing so. He introduced me to Birmingham society, helped me become indispensable to those whose most valuable asset is reputation. I am particularly adept at reversing a situation with the utmost discretion.”
He scrutinized her as if she were a bug he intended to squash beneath his shoe with his next move.
“Give me an example.”
“Dr. Dwight Holderfield.” His name came to mind first considering recent events. “If you recall, a couple of years ago there was a situation at his hospital. A patient died and the family sued the hospital and the physician involved; they even threatened to sue Holderfield personally.”
“The suit as well as the investigation were dropped,” he acknowledged. “The hospital evidently settled. Keller Luttrell was involved on some level with the investigation.”
Oh, yes, Keller Luttrell. A man she despised, but who easily gave in to temptation when it came to money and glory. “Yes. Holderfield’s career was on the line. Apparently, he altered the records to cover the physician’s mistake. He was terrified that the tampering would be discovered.”
The look on Carson’s face told her he found the whole scenario disgusting. “You bribed the family into dropping the allegations.”
She shook her head. “Not exactly.”
His gaze narrowed. “Howexactlydid you make that happen?”
“Simple.” She returned that unmerciful stare. “I dug up the deceased’s one skeleton in the closet and threatened to expose his drug use, which could have contributed to his unexpected demise considering he hadn’t given the hospital that information.”
“So you dug up all this dirt and used it to manipulate the grieving family.”
The renewed disgust in his tone kick-started her defense mode. “Your sins always find you out.” One of her foster mothers had loved spouting Bible verses. Made her feel superior.
“Nice.”
Annette knew that tone. To him she was plain white trash, evil, capable of anything. Who was he to throw stones? He and his kind helped killers get away with murder all the time. All in the name of the law. Screw him.
She walked over to the chair facing the sofa, facing him, and took a seat. She smoothed a hand over her navy skirt. She’d chosen it because it was short and sexy yet still gave off a professional air. The white blousewas skintight and buttoned to the throat. She had needed that facade. If it kept him off balance, all the better. “I do what I have to do. We’re alike in that way, I believe.”
The comment hit its mark. His expression darkened. “Fundraising is your cover.”
