Deadly deception, p.1
Deadly Deception, page 1
Table of Contents
Deadly Deception
Deadly Deception
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Thank you for reading!
About the Author
About the Author
Deadly Deception
By
Mary Martinez
Other books by Mary Martinez
Watching Jenny
Romance and Misconceptions
Classic Murder: Mr. Romance
Chick Magnet
Three Brides and a Dress
Four Sisters
History Mysteries
The Beckett Series
Disappear Book I
Innocent Book II
Quiet Book III
Illusion Book IV Utopia the Beginning
Profit Book V Utopia the Conclusion
Abandoned Book VI
Coming soon
A Beckett Christmas Intervention
Novella eBooks
Honky Tonk
Meet Me In Fantasyland
Books by ML Foxx
Celtic Myst CUPÁN OF FLÚIRSE
Novella eBooks
Bewitched and Bedazzled
Deadly Deception
Copyright @ 2022 Mary Martinez
www.marymartinez.com
This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the Names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Released in the United States of America
Cover artists: LDM Graphics
Dedication
To my family and friends who are always there to support my crazy writing addiction.
To Kim, Judy, Sabrina, and all my dedicated beta readers for all of your help trying to perfect everything I write.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Thank you from the Author
About the Author
Chapter One
Jonas Faraday approached the traffic light with care. After all, he had the most precious cargo in the world strapped in next to him, his daughter Tori, his pride and joy. He turned sideways to look at her. It was then he noticed the bright red car weaving all over the road. He looked at the intersection, the light was green. He turned his attention to the car, his eyes widened.
Without a thought, he slung his arm across the front of his eight-year-old daughter while he moved his foot to the brake. He should never have let Tori sit in the front. He'd had no time for an argument, now he was paying for his lack of judgment.
Nothing, the brake pedal went to the floor. He pumped it a few times.
Using both feet he stomped as hard as he could.
Nothing.
“No!” His shout filled the car.
Tori turned her head. “Dad stop, that car is going to hit us. Dad...”
His stomach did a quick summersault. He swallowed. A quick glimpse to the side told him the car was right on a course toward them.
Everything slowed. His arm pressed tighter on his daughter, snapshots of his life flashed through his mind; Marcie holding Tori as a newborn, Tori’s first birthday, first step, and first dance recital. All thoughts vanished when he brought his daughter into focus. She gazed at him with hope. Then she turned toward her window.
He watched in horror as his SUV entered the intersection at the same time as the vehicle. He wanted to cover his ears to stop the sound of his daughter’s scream mixed with the hard sound of grinding metal as the red car slammed into the passenger door.
Time went into overdrive as the car went airborne. The twisted steel, once a car that carried himself and his daughter, turned in the air with the weightlessness of a soaring ballerina.
He gulped as he tried to keep his gaze on his daughter. She bounced. A shriek rattled around the car to match the echo in his head.
Her belt did nothing to restrain her body. The car sprung from the asphalt, the jolt so hard his arm was flung from his daughter.
His body flew with the momentum of the aerial acrobats of the vehicle. Thrown forward, the steering wheel punched into his stomach. His gaze jerked up as the roof met with the pavement.
“Tori!”
His ragged voice was the last sound he heard before a bright flash, of searing pain, and then darkness.
Chapter Two
Two years after the accident, Perryville Village, New York
Marcella Faraday watched Mayor Gregerson ping back and forth across her office. A tennis ball. Point by point he rattled off all the reasons the village needed to revamp its vetting for police officers.
Marcie let her mind wander onto other cases while the mayor ranted. Her father had been an employment attorney, and she had followed in his footsteps and took over his practice when he’d retired.
She came back to the present with a jolt as she realized the mayor was talking to her. Pulling her thoughts back to the conversation of law enforcement.
“Let me do some research
“Good idea. Please give me a report when you have one. Our board doesn’t meet until the end of the month which should give you plenty of time.”
Mayor Gregerson gave her a wink and then left with a snap of the door behind him. He was a fair and good man, rare in any type of politics. She had worked with some political sharks. He was a refreshing change.
Marcie stared at the closed door for a moment longer then pulled her thoughts back to the problem at hand. She needed her law books. Village law was very different than the Burroughs of New York City. They were unique and needed to be handled accordingly.
Which meant she would have to go through her boxes in the basement of her parent’s home. They’d been stored there since she moved to her hometown of Perryville. Two years and she still couldn’t face her past life.
She drew in a breath. The quick surge of dread swirled in her stomach. Every damn time she contemplated going through boxes from her past life it was the same. The contemplation, the dread, and then the postponement.
Why? What was she so afraid of finding?
Why was she even asking herself? The accident in which she lost her family to was not an accident at all. She was furious the Brooklyn captain had ruled as such.
She’d always had good instincts. It was what propelled her so far in her New York firm. And the minute the officer had said there were no skid marks, it had sent up red flags. But they said all the reports had brought them to the conclusion it was an unfortunate accident. Jonas hadn’t braked.
Bullshit.
Her husband had the car serviced regularly, especially since they commuted into the city. Not to mention he took no chances when driving with their daughter, Tori. At the time of the accident, she had been so devastated she’d let the accident ruling stand. Nothing would bring them back.
She finally understood that she would have no closure until she found out what really happened.
No better time than the weekend. A full two days to rummage through boxes. The dread churned, and she gulped it down. She would continue to do so. She couldn’t postpone any longer. Besides, she needed her law books for the office.
And she would make a point of spending a little time with her papi and mamma. In the time she’d been home, she’d tried to step right back into her family. The three of them may be a small one, but they were still a boisterous Italian family or used to be.
Until two years ago.
Her mamma had asked her more than once why she held herself so aloof.
Because her heart was shattered.
It was time to heal.
~~~~
Marcie reached for the doorbell then let her hand drop to the knob and opened the door instead. As her mother constantly reminded her, it was still her home.
Her mamma stopped as she entered the foyer. “Oh, Cara, you scared me.”
Her gaze dropped to the discarded box and then back to Marcie. Her Mother watched her a moment longer, a smile on her lovely face. “I’m so happy you came to visit. Dinner is almost ready. I am sure we have enough, will you stay?"
A refusal hovered on Marcie’s lips. Then she saw the hopeful expression. It was time to move forward. Join the living. Wasn’t she here to start the healing by going through Jonas’s things?
She smiled at her mamma. “I would love to.”
She bent to pick up the box. “I’m going to take my law books to the office. Do you mind if I go through the boxes in the basement this weekend?”
Her mother paused for a moment. “I won’t be able to help. I have plans with the cooking class at the community center.”
“This is something I need to do myself, Mamma.”
Again, her mother paused, then nodded. She turned toward the kitchen and Marcie followed. The smell of chicken parmesan smacked her as they entered the kitchen. Memories of growing up with the best cook around assailed her along with the garlic. “Do you need any help with dinner?”
“No. I have this. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“Thanks.
Her dad came in the front door returning from a day of golf. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Hi, Papi. I’m finally moving my law books to the office.”
“The Internet is much better than looking at books all day.” He gave her a mock frown. “I thought you were a progressive attorney.”
“I am, but the Internet cannot replace the case studies and everything else in my books.”
He sat down in the hall chair to remove his shoes and slip his feet into his sandals. He stood and stretched.
“Almost got a hole in one today.”
“Papi, you say that every time.”
“Only because it’s true every time.” He slipped an arm over her shoulders. “Need some help going through those dusty ole’ books?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She winked at him and turned toward the basement door. “Thanks for the offer though.”
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Dread was back with a vengeance. She firmed her jaw in determination. She could do this.
She pushed open the door to the room. There were far more boxes than she remembered. Her law books were all labeled. She would take those out to the car before dinner and then start on her things in the morning when she had an entire day. Dinner was ready when she’d finished.
“Let me wash up and I’ll set the table.” Marcie paused to tell her mom before heading to the bathroom off the kitchen.
Dinner flew by. Memories warmed her. She’d loved her family. She had lost track of that when she moved to the city. Why had she waited two years to join them for dinner?
The next morning, feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep she was ready to tackle more. She grabbed a coffee from Cuppa Java on the way to her parents. She found the key under the fake rock where it had always been and quietly let herself in. Bacon sizzled in the kitchen. So much for getting a start before everyone woke up.
She changed directions and detoured through the kitchen. Her papi had his nose in his newspaper. She shook her head. He pushed the Internet on her, but he couldn’t give up his news the old-fashioned way.
“Hey, I’m off to the basement to get started. I’m going to free your storage room up. Do they have a Good Will around here?”
“Are you going to give Tori’s clothes away?”
Marcie nodded in the affirmative. Her mother handed her a plate of bacon and eggs. She frowned. She wasn’t much of a breakfast eater. Coffee would do. She sighed and sat.
“Well?”
“They have the women’s shelter that would be best. A lot of the women have small children.”
“Then the women’s shelter it is. Do you know if they pick up?”
“Yes, you just have everything boxed up and labeled. I can arrange for a pickup.”
Her father folded the paper and put it to the side. “Do you need help?”
“No, Dad. I need to do this.”
“Leo, it’s healing for her. I have a cooking class. Go golf and let Marcie do what she needs to do.” Her mother stood and went for more juice. Then came to stand by her chair. “I am so relieved you have decided to move on. You know we’ll be here if you need us.”
Well, hell. Now she was going to cry. “I will box up everything I don’t want to keep.” She gave them what she hoped was a light smile. “I promise though, I will have everything out of your hair.”
“Honey, we never use the storage room, your things are fine. Though, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
“Yes Mamma, I need to do this, or I’ll never move on.”
She hadn’t told anyone about her suspicions about the accident and until she found something, she wasn’t going to. They would only try to talk her out of pursuing her doubt. Her father would say digging up the past would come to no good.
Her dad turned to her mother, “Sophie are you sure she should be doing this alone?”
“Yes,” she said along with her mother.
She wiped her mouth and piled her utensils on her plate to take to the sink. “Thank you for breakfast, turned out I needed the fuel for my project.”
She hoped her smile reflected anticipation of getting the job done and not the dread threatening to relieve herself of the delicious breakfast.
“I have some time before golf, I could help you sort.”
“No.”
She hadn’t meant to be so abrupt. “Sorry, Papi. I really need to do this for myself.”
