Blood Always Tells by Hilary Davidson (always you kirsty moseley .TXT) 📗

“Why? Why on earth would you do something like that?”

“That time, it was for money.” Gary shrugged. “Cheesy, but true.”

“You kidnapped yourself… to make money?”

“It was the only way to get anything out of that psycho I’m married to,” Gary explained. “I’ve been too embarrassed to explain all of it to you, especially the allowance. It’s like I’m a pet on a leash.”

“An allowance?”

“I used to get a thousand dollars a week for being married to Trin. It was more when I first married her, a lot more, but her father got annoyed and cut it back.”

“This is about money?”

“No, the Mexico kidnapping was all about money. Trin’s father blamed me for not giving him a grandson. He told me at one point that if I were a real man, I wouldn’t give Trin any choice on the subject. Can you believe that? He basically wanted me to rape his own daughter. What kind of sick bastard thinks like that?” Gary’s green eyes looked genuinely distressed. “I’m not saying I’m a good guy, but I’ve never laid a hand on a woman who didn’t want me to. And, believe me, Trin never wanted me to.” He drank some beer. “Bad as Trin’s father was, she’s a thousand times worse. After daddy dearest died a year ago, Trin cut me.”

“She did what?”

“I mean she stopped my allowance.” He made a face. “I know I sound like a spoiled brat. What thirty-seven-year-old man gets an allowance? You’ve been dating a loser, babe.”

“We’ve talked a thousand times about you getting a divorce,” Dominique said. “You always said you couldn’t because of money. But if she cut off your cash flow, why stay?”

“You forget the iron-clad prenup. I’d have to pay millions back to her family. You think I’ve got any cash? I’ve had to scrounge through sofa cushions for coffee money.”

“You could have left!”

“Without getting paid for the misery I’ve been through?” Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that holier-than-thou attitude, babe. I know you. For someone who’s up on her pedestal, looking down at me, you’ve got some rich tastes and no way to fund them. You think your job styling photo shoots would pay for nice trips and dinners and all your clothes?”

“I never asked you for any of that.” She was still too much in shock to take in everything Gary was saying. He’d arranged for them to be kidnapped? Those men with guns were, what, actors playing a role?

He cocked his head and reached for her hand again. “Don’t look so miserable, babe. I wasn’t lying about desperately wanting a divorce. It just took me a long time to realize I was never going to get one. I’ve gone over it again and again with Tom—with my lawyer—and there’s no way out.”

Dominique sat straighter. She knew Gary wasn’t telling her the truth, but she had to be careful. She could never let him know how she’d become so well-informed about his situation. Sure, he’d shown her the agreement, but it was hundreds of pages and she couldn’t pretend she’d read and memorized it.

“Maybe you don’t know this, but there’s a rumor in certain fashion circles that Trin wants to divorce you. They say she could do it, now that her father’s dead.”

That got Gary’s attention. “Who said that?”

“Might’ve been one of Tom Ford’s people. Why? Does it matter?”

“Fashion people are crazy. They live on a different planet.” Gary shook his head. “Of course, I have to keep quiet, while Trin or her houseboy could babble away to whoever they want. Figures.” He took a long drink. “It’s true that Trin could divorce me, especially now that her father’s dead, but she won’t.”

“Because of the money?”

“She doesn’t want to part with one precious penny, but that’s only part of it. She could divorce me, but she’d have to get married again within thirty days. And whoever she marries requires family approval.”

“But her whole family is dead.”

“Which means that approval is left up to her father’s best friend, who happens to administer the trust fund Trin so desperately needs to be the parasite she is.”

The conversation was veering into dangerous territory, as far as Dominique was concerned. She’d never been a good liar, and she was pretty sure Gary would know something was off. “Who would she marry, anyway?”

“Well, she’s been eyeing the poor houseboy for a while. He’s perfect for her: gay, ridiculously handsome, loves fashion. I don’t know if she’s serious about it, but it made me start poking around the family finances. Now, I’m not great with numbers, but even I can tell that the balance sheet is off. Things aren’t as stable as her father led the world to believe. I think there’s some kind of Ponzi scheme going on. I showed some stuff I found to Tom, and he said it didn’t add up.”

“What do you even care? You don’t need her money!”

“I’ll go out of my mind if I have to keep this charade up much longer. I’m out of cash and out of options, so I had to do something drastic.”

“You mean you kidnapped yourself—again—so your wife would pay your ransom and you’ll have some spending money?”

“No, I’m planning to inherit it this time around.” Gary’s grip on her hand tightened. “We’re here this weekend so I’ll have a rock-solid alibi when Trin’s body is found.”

Chapter 13

Dominique heard an echo of the gunman’s voice in the back of her head. Make no mistake: Gary is a murderer. Was this what he’d meant? He wasn’t talking about a murder Gary had already committed; he was aware of what Gary was planning.

“Back up,” Dominique said. “Alibi?”

“That’s what I said.” Gary’s eyes were flinty.

“How does being trapped in this house, where no one can see us, give you an alibi? That makes no sense.”

“You’re thinking of an alibi in the traditional sense. Like, we could go down to Palm Beach, stay at a fancy hotel, let people see us.”

Dominique nodded.

“Here’s the problem. I haven’t