Fatal Trust by Diana Miller Read Free Book Online

and stiff body.
    Ben started the engine, then immediately shut it off. “I
lied before,” he said, his voice muffled by their helmets.
    Lexie opened her eyes to see him looking at her from behind
his visor. “I hope it wasn’t when you said you were an excellent driver.”
    “About the Playboy s .”
Although his helmet hid his mouth, she could hear his smile. “I don’t think
I’ve even seen one since high school. I actually knew about the jeans because
my ex-wife had a couple of pairs.”
    He turned his head and restarted the engine. Lexie closed
her eyes again, said a quick prayer, and hung on as he took off toward the
road. Between a clenching stomach and a heart beating nearly hard enough to
burst through her chest, she could barely breathe. Addendum to Rule Number 148:
Avoid involvement with any man who calls women “babe” and/or rides a
motorcycle.
    Ben drove fast, although not so fast he had any trouble with
the curves, and the motorcycle didn’t wobble or swerve or do anything that made
Lexie feel they were about to tip, flip, or rocket off the road. But Ben’s
relatively smooth driving didn’t change that she was on a motor vehicle going
fast, with no protection besides a helmet, and they called things “accidents”
for a reason.
    After what seemed forever, he slowed, and then drove off the
road. Lexie opened her eyes to see that they were in a grove of pines. “Why are
we stopping?” Not that she was complaining.
    “Because we’ve reached the lot. Take off your helmet and
come on.”
    She removed her helmet and shook out her sweaty hair. Fear
combined with the motorcycle’s vibrations had weakened her legs, and she
stumbled a couple of times as she followed Ben out of the trees. She couldn’t
see Lakeview, but lights glimmered to the south, and she could hear Lake
Superior’s quiet lapping, so they must be near town.
    They walked until they reached a chain link fence about six
feet high, enclosing a brick building and a couple dozen cars. Ben grabbed onto
the top of the fence and pulled himself up.
    “What are you doing?”
    “I’m going over. I’ll unlock the gate and let you in. Unless
you want to scale the fence, too.”
    Lexie snagged his foot. “We are not breaking in.”
    Ben lowered himself back down beside her. “It’s not like I
plan to steal or damage anything. All I’m doing is checking out Grandfather’s
car, which I have a right to do.”
    “Why don’t we come back during business hours?”
    “Because I don’t want anyone to know I suspect Grandfather’s
death wasn’t an accident.” Before Lexie had a chance to object, he was over the
fence.
    Since her only alternative was waiting outside the fence—and
Ben had a point about secrecy—Lexie stepped through the gate once he opened it.
Then she followed him across the gravel-paved lot, navigating through cars
displaying rusty holes, cardboarded windows, duct-taped parts, and evidence of
collisions past.
    Three-quarters of the way in, Ben stopped. “This is it.”
    Directly in front of them were the charred remains of an
automobile.
    Max’s Ferrari.
    Lexie’s eyes filled and her chest tightened as she stared at
the car. The odor of burned metal clogged her nose and throat. “Max’s death
never seemed real before,” she got out over a lump. “But seeing this, it’s very
real.”
    Ben took her hand and squeezed it. “We have to believe that
wherever Grandfather is, he’s enjoying it as much as he always enjoyed life.”
    She swiped at her overflowing eyes with the back of her free
hand, smearing tears over her cheekbones. Max had been demanding and
occasionally a pain, but she’d been genuinely fond of him. She’d miss him, miss
his wit, his warmth, his concern about her. She’d even miss the lectures that
resulted from that concern. And he’d been her last real connection to her aunt.
“I hope he died right away. I hate to think of him suffering.”
    “The coroner said he probably died on impact,