The Betrayal Page 23

  Eyeing her and the sheet she held tightly around her, he grinned, a knowing glint in his eye. “Shower’s free.”

  She refrained from commenting. Nodding her thanks, she slipped past him.

  * * *

  Declan barely had a chance to pull on his jeans when there was a loud knock at the front door.

  “Declan, if you’re in there, you’d better open up this instant. You’re worrying the shit out of all of us. We’ve been calling you since last night. Mom’s beside herself with worry. Christ, if you’ve gone and done something stupid, I’ll never forgive you.” Another loud thump sounded against the door.

  Declan pulled on a clean T-shirt just as Chloe appeared in the doorway of the ensuite, wrapped only in a towel.

  “What’s all that noise?”

  “It’s Clayton. He’s outside.”

  Chloe blushed. “What’s he going to say when he finds me here?”

  Declan grinned, delighted at her bashfulness. “If you hurry up and throw some clothes on, he doesn’t actually have to find you here.” He looked meaningfully at the rumpled bed. “I mean, we can kind of ease him into the idea of us being together. Clayton might be three years younger than me, but he’s way more conservative. We don’t have to hit him over the head with it.”

  She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “I’ll hit you over the head in a minute.” With that, she turned on her heel and headed back into the bathroom.

  Declan chuckled and hurried down the hall, knowing Clayton wouldn’t give up until he’d broken the door down. When another bang sounded, he called out to his brother.

  “Clayton, it’s okay. I’m here. Hang on a minute and I’ll let you in.” Smoothing down his hair with his fingers, he reached for the doorknob.

  Clayton’s worried frown warmed him all the way through. “Hey, there little brother,” Declan said, grinning. “What are you up to?”

  Clayton pushed passed him, his scowl deepening. “Don’t play all innocent with me. Why haven’t you answered your phone? I tried half the night to get through to you. I even came by here twice and I called you again this morning. Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried as shit. Mom was about to start calling hospitals.”

  Declan sobered and considered what conclusions his family must have drawn when he couldn’t be reached. When they’d left his place yesterday afternoon, he’d been down on everything. He’d asked them to leave so that he could have some time alone. He could only imagine what they’d thought when they couldn’t contact him today.

  “I’m sorry, Clay. I didn’t think. Chloe came over last night and we spent some time talking about the case. There’s been a breakthrough—”

  Clayton’s gaze moved beyond Declan’s shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise. Declan turned and spied Chloe behind him, now dressed in the clothes she’d worn to his apartment the night before. He reached out and drew her close. Clayton started coughing.

  Declan stepped forward and thumped him on the back. “Are you all right, mate?”

  Clayton shook his head and fought to catch his breath. “Yeah, sure,” he wheezed. “I’m just a little…surprised.”

  “I told you Chloe was helping me.”

  “Yes, you did. I didn’t realize you meant…” Clayton flushed and averted his gaze.

  Declan laughed at his brother’s discomfort, but then took pity on him, after catching sight of the color that also bloomed in Chloe’s cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Clay. I should have explained. Last night, Chloe and I realized how much we’ve come to care for each other. It sounds corny, but it’s true. Right, sweetheart?”

  He turned to her and squeezed her hip. Chloe’s face turned crimson. She glared at him. He could almost read her thoughts: I thought you said you were going to ease him into it?

  Anger suffused Clayton’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Excuse me for a minute.” He rounded on Declan. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you out of your mind? She’s the senior investigator, instrumental to your case. Have you forgotten that? Do you know how much this could jeopardize your trial?”

  Declan narrowed his eyes and did his best to control his temper. “Don’t talk like she’s not here, Clay. She’s on my side, now.”

  Clayton shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? How can she be on your side? She’s the reason you’re in this mess!”

  Declan forced himself to remain calm. He could understand his brother’s confusion, even his anger.

  “You’re not listening, Clay. We’ve had a breakthrough. We know who set me up.”

  Clayton’s jaw dropped. “You’ve found out who’s behind it? Tell me! I want to know the name of the bastard.”

  Declan nodded grimly. “I’ll fill you in on everything, just as soon as I’ve had some caffeine. He headed toward the kitchen. “Anyone for coffee?” He switched on the state-of-the-art coffee machine that sat on the kitchen counter.

  “Coffee?” Clayton strode around the countertop and pulled up only a few feet from Declan. “How the hell can you think about coffee after dropping that bombshell? When the family left here yesterday, you were still talking about confronting Stanford. Is that the breakthrough you’re talking about, or did something else happen?”

  Declan stopped what he was doing and turned to face his brother. He glanced at Chloe. She met his gaze and then nodded.

  “It’s a long story, Clay and one I can’t do without at least one cup of caffeine in my veins. I promise we’ll tell you everything, but first, I need coffee.” He looked back to Chloe and lifted an eyebrow. “Coffee?”

  She sent him a look of gratitude and nodded. After setting out two mugs, he was about to add sugar, but pulled up short. He didn’t have a clue how she drank her coffee. He’d touched every inch of her body, but still didn’t know if she liked it black or white, cream, sugar or none of those.

  His hand froze. “Black, no sugar,” she murmured, sidling up to him. He breathed a sigh of relief and flashed a smile.

  “Same as me.”

  She lifted an eyebrow in pleased surprise. “That makes it easy.”

  Handing her one of the mugs, he picked up the other one and turned to face Clayton. “You sure I can’t get you one?”

  “No, thanks. I just want to hear what’s happened that’s made you so different from the beaten man we left yesterday.”

  Taking a sip out of his cup, Declan guided Chloe out of the kitchen and into the living room. Seating himself beside her on the sofa, he waited while Clayton took a seat in the armchair opposite.

  “It’s hard to know where to start,” he began. “The short version is Charlie used my login details to create the computer trail which led to the illegal access of the files. He got access through a clerk in the Minister’s Office. He also left the images on my laptop.”

  “Christ, that’s fantastic! What about the long version?” Clayton asked, undeterred.

  Declan turned to Chloe. Her eyes darkened with sad shadows, but she drew in a deep breath and nodded.

  “I think Chloe should tell you that one. Is that all right with you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice husky with emotion. She cleared her throat. “I’ll do it.”

  Declan took her hand in his and squeezed it. In halting sentences that gradually grew more confident, Chloe recounted the events leading up to the discovery of her uncle’s involvement.

  Clayton moved through various levels of shock and disbelief to outrage and finally, to a grim kind of acceptance.

  “What happens now?” he said, directing the question to Chloe. “I assume you’ve spoken to your boss?”

  “Yes, of course. He’s putting together a taskforce as we speak. They…they expect to arrest my uncle this morning.”

  Declan squeezed her hand again, offering silent reassurance. Chloe turned to look at him. Tears glistened in her eyes. Declan pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  When he let her go, her face was aflame, but her embarrass
ment only endeared her to him even more.

  His brother cleared his throat. Declan looked across at him and shrugged, grinning cheekily. Clayton stood and wiped his hands on his pants.

  “I still don’t understand why you didn’t answer when I knocked last night? There were lights on in your apartment. You must have been home.”

  Declan ducked his head. “Yeah, we…ah… We went for a ride.”

  Clayton looked from Declan to Chloe and back again. “I see. And this morning?”

  “I…ah… I switched my phone off last night. I forgot to switch it back on again this morning.”

  Clayton nodded and pursed his lips. “The only reason I ask is because Mom was on the verge of hysteria when I couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  Declan had the grace to feel embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Please give my apologies to Mom and Dad. I didn’t even consider that they might be worried about me.”

  “Yeah, well they’ll be thrilled to hear this nightmare’s almost over.”

  Declan nodded as relief surged through him. Finally, the burden that had hung over him for more than eight weeks would be lifted. Charlie and the Minister would be arrested. The charges against Declan would be dropped. He could put it all behind him and resurrect his life.

  That couldn’t come soon enough.

  CHAPTER 23

  Ronald Sabattini took a sip of coffee and sighed in contentment. He always loved this time of day, before the noise and hubbub of the office found its stride. As far as he knew, he was the only one there and that suited him just fine. It was barely seven-thirty. He had plenty of time to enjoy his solitude before the administration staff arrived.

  He drew the pile of papers that awaited his attention toward him and signed them with a flourish of his gold embossed pen. The pen had been a gift from a former staffer, a young man he’d always remember with fondness. It was too bad the boy’s weakness for party drugs had brought their promising relationship to a premature end.

  Drugs had given the boy a loose tongue and the Minister couldn’t afford a scandal. It was one of the things he’d promised his wife. Without her support, his life could never have continued the way it had for more than forty years. Even the thought of it coming to an end was unbearable.

  For almost his entire marriage, he’d lived a glorious double life. He had the best of both worlds. With a young and beautiful wife by his side, the opportunities to see and be seen were endless. Invitations to one social event after another crowded their letterbox. He’d rubbed shoulders with the mega rich and powerful members of Sydney society and his desire to be a formidable presence in politics had been fulfilled beyond his wildest imaginings.

  The very same beautiful wife, with only a little persuasion, had also been willing to give him the freedom to fulfil every fantasy he’d ever had in the bedroom with an almost endless stream of fit, young men who were easy pickings within his domain. She willingly, if not always happily, turned a blind eye to his proclivities.

  He’d known from the time he was a teenager that he was gay, but coming out in the sixties to his devout Catholic family wasn’t an option. Instead, he’d been forced to enjoy illicit liaisons with teachers and fellow students and later, with some of his university professors under the cover of darkness with some flimsy pretext or other placing him within their very close proximity.

  Even now, the memory of those secret liaisons made him hard. One professor, in particular, had made a lasting impression. Professor Greene, a man well into his fifties at the time, had introduced him to bondage and sadomasochism. The kiss of the whip across his bare ass still sent him into ecstasy.

  It was too bad the man had died prematurely from a heart attack whilst at home one evening with his wife. It had left Ronald bereft and reliant only upon his imagination to finish the education the professor had so adeptly started.

  Over the ensuing years, he’d found plenty of willing participants who allowed him to experiment and refine his craft. The pleasure had been willingly and graciously shared and had heightened the experiences for both him and his partner. Being appointed Minister for Home Affairs had been like a sign from above. All of a sudden, he had thousands of men—many not long out of high school—at his beck and call.

  It wasn’t long into his first term that he instigated a biannual tradition of hosting an elaborate welcome party for the new intake of AFP recruits. It was held under the guise of a charity event and was a perfect opportunity to troll for new partners. In his experience, the fresher the recruit, the more eager they were to please. He looked for men with determination in their gaze—ambitious men who wanted to go far. Men like Declan Munro.

  At the thought of his nemesis, he cursed viciously. The welcome party had fast become his favorite hunting ground. The attendees were buffed and shiny and eager to please and most were more than a little awed to be spending a few moments in the company of their new boss. Despite his pleasant liaison with Eric, he was always on the lookout for a new diversion. It still left a sour taste in his mouth when he thought of how the last party had ended in his humiliation.

  The phone near his elbow rang, interrupting his reverie. He reached for it and answered with his customary brusqueness.

  “Yes?”

  “Sh-she knows.”

  Ronald frowned at Chip’s words and the fear that punctuated them. “What do you mean, she knows?” he replied, his voice sharp.

  “The IA investigator. She knows. She knows everything. Why the hell didn’t you tell me she was your fucking niece?”

  Even though a feeling of dread unfurled in his gut, Ronald kept his tone neutral. “When did you speak with her?”

  “Y-yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “It was late. Y-you’d already left the office. You’ve told me over and over never to call you at home.”

  Ronald bit back a savage curse and tried to get his burgeoning panic under control. “What did you tell her?”

  Chip’s voice turned whiny. “I didn’t tell her anything. She’d already figured it all out.”

  “She knows about us?”

  “Yes.”

  He sucked in a breath. “About Munro?”

  “Yes.”

  “Eric?”

  “Eric? What’s Eric got to do with this? You’re as bad as she is, going on about Eric all the time. Please, please don’t tell me you’re fucking him too…”

  Ronald closed his eyes, his mind in chaos. He should have cut Chip loose, like he’d planned. His carefully crafted world was about to come crashing down around him. One whisper would be enough to ruin him. He’d be worse than dead. He couldn’t bear the thought.

  An image of his niece materialized before him. Beautiful, smart and so hell-bent on the search for truth and justice, she’d never rest until she saw the wrong righted.

  It was the reason he’d made sure she copped the Munro case. Her tenacity, dedication, determination and loyalty were all the qualities he’d relied upon. It was the way she was.

  Now she knew the truth, she’d never let it go until she’d seen it through. He knew it as surely as he knew he couldn’t let her do it. It was as simple as that. He only prayed she hadn’t yet shared her suspicions with her superiors.

  Chip had said he’d met with her late. It was possible she hadn’t yet met with her boss. Ronald’s only chance was to move fast.

  He drew in a deep breath and held it until his lungs burned. The sensation cleared his head. At peace with his decision, he spoke again.

  “Okay, Chip. Listen and listen well. I’m only going to tell you this once. This is what you’re going to do.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Clayton shook Declan’s hand and turned to hug Chloe good-bye. She could tell from the warmth in his embrace that he’d made the adjustment regarding her status with his brother and accepted that she was now on their side. After closing the door behind Clayton, she turned to Declan.

  “We have to go.”


  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Chloe hurried to collect her briefcase and Declan found his bike keys. Within minutes, they’d left his apartment. As agreed, Chloe drove her Honda and Declan climbed astride the Ducati. Together, they headed toward Parliament House.

  The sun had begun its ascent. It was a little after eight. She couldn’t be sure her uncle was in his office, but he’d always been an early riser and she wanted to keep the element of surprise on her side. She didn’t want him to have time to think about his answers. She hoped he’d make the decision to tell her the truth…this time.

  She sighed. There was nothing for it but to take a punt and hope for the best. It was all she could do.

  At least she knew the IA Taskforce hadn’t arrested him, yet. Webber had phoned a few minutes earlier and told her they’d run into a stumbling block: The Attorney General had been contacted and advised of the situation. He, in turn, had spoken to the Prime Minister. Forward progress had been put on hold until a full briefing occurred.

  Webber went onto explain that the Prime Minister was attending a high-level trade meeting that wasn’t expected to finish until five, and no one expected an arrest to be made until sometime that evening.

  The thought of how the day would unravel sent shards of nervousness arcing through her. Her heart thumped double time and anxiety tightened her throat. She still hadn’t worked out what she was going to say.

  She glanced in her rearview mirror and spied Declan on his bike about three car lengths behind her. His presence reassured her. For all her protestations that she was safe in her uncle’s company, she was relieved Declan would be close by.

  Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, she steeled her nerves against the forthcoming confrontation. The impressive grandeur of Parliament House loomed ahead of her. As it had the during her previous visit two days earlier, the bright, morning sun glinted off the towering steel structure that started at the roofline and reached for the sky.

  In less than ten minutes, and much too soon for her liking, she found herself slowing for the security guards who were perched inside a booth at the entrance to Parliament House and the underground car park. Another quick glance through her rearview mirror confirmed Declan had turned off in the direction of the public car park a short distance away. Chloe was confident he would do as he’d promised and if she needed him, all she would have to do was call.