Her Guilty Secret.

Anne Mather.

Alex Kellerman's life had fallen apart at his wife's death, which cost him custody of his baby daughter. Now, nothing would stop him winning her back - so was he right to be suspicious of his newest employee? Kate Hughes had taken the job under false pretences. A mystery hung over Alex's past and Kate wanted the truth. But how far would she go to gain her boss's confidence?

She never meant to fall in love with the man she'd been sent to betray...

CHAPTER ONE.

THEman sitting at the other side of the desk cleared his throat. 'You are familiar with this kind of thing, aren't you?' he asked, glancing doubtfully about the office. Kate guessed that her addition of some pot plants and a parlour palm had caught his eye. Perhaps they didn't look very professional, she thought defensively, but they brightened up what was otherwise a rather gloomy room.

'Perfectly familiar,' she answered him now, shuffling the papers in front of her as if each and every one of them was a case pending her attention. In fact, since her father's death, the cases had been few and far between. Not everyone was prepared to trust their secrets to a woman who looked considerably younger than her thirty-two years. And the name on the door said William Ross, Private Investigator, which meant they were already disappointed when they encountered a woman instead. 'Just give me the details of the last time you saw your wife, and I'll do my best to get you a satisfactory result.'

The man hesitated, evidently still not convinced she could handle the matter, and Kate fought back the urge to scream. For heaven's sake, she thought, what was so difficult about finding a missing spouse? Her father used to practically survive on such cases, usually finding the runaway in some other man's bed.

'You do understand this must be dealt with in the strictest confidence?' he persisted, and Kate gave him her most convincing look. But she couldn't help the thought that he was not the most appealing of clients. He was wearing a worn jacket and trousers and grubby trainers, and she had to wonder if he could afford her services.

'Any information you give me is totally confidential,' she a.s.sured him firmly, aware of a certain reluctance to take on this case. But beggars can't be choosers, she reminded herself dryly, and her mother wouldn't be very pleased if she started turning clients away.

'The charges,' he said now, as if putting off the moment when he had to give her his wife's details. 'Are they negotiable?'

'I'm afraid not.' Kate always hated this part of the business. 'It's a hundred pounds a day, plus expenses. And I'm afraid I have to ask for payment in advance.'

'In advance?' His rather close-set eyes widened in a face that was neither distinguished nor memorable. Kate imagined he was in his late forties, but the downward curve of his mouth added at least half a dozen more years.

'It's customary,' she said, endeavouring to sound professional. 'After all, if I have no luck in finding your wife, you might object to paying then. Besides-' she forced a smile '-naturally there are expenses. But I'll keep a record of what I spend on a day-to-day basis.'

'Hmm.' The man considered her explanation with a drawn brow, and Kate began to feel uncomfortable. If she'd had only herself to care about, she'd have been quite happy to send him on his way. To some other agency, with a man to attend to his needs.

But she wasn't a free agent. And, despite the law degree that she'd spent more years than she cared to remember getting, this was the only job she had. Of course, if she'd been prepared to move to London, she might have been able to find some solicitor willing to give her a chance. But in a small town like King's Montford there were too many articled clerks already waiting for dead men's shoes.

The man was fumbling in his jacket pocket now, pulling out an envelope that looked surprisingly thick. Opening the flap, he threw a wad of notes on the desk in front of her. 'Will that do to be going on with?' he asked. 'There's a couple of thousand there.'

Kate tried not to look as shocked as she felt. Most of the clients she'd had recently had been prepared to put up a couple of days' expenses and nothing more. What couldn't she do with two thousand pounds? she thought weakly. She could pay the rent, for one thing, and give Joanne the money she needed for that school skiing trip.

'I-that's fine,' she said now, inadequately, though she held back from picking up the notes. Her father's training was warning her to find out what the job entailed before she committed herself.

Even if she couldn't see any immediate problem in attempting to locate his wife.

'Good.' The man, who had been resting one foot on his knee, now dropped it to the floor and leaned forward in his chair. 'I expect you want to know her name, don't you?' he said. 'And the last time I saw her.'

'It would help,' said Kate whimsically, but then, seeing no answering humour in his expression, she quickly sobered. She mustn't let him know that this contribution to her finances had brought her such a sense of relief. And she hadn't decided to take the job yet, she reminded herself. What had her father always told her? Make sure it was legal first.

'All right.' The man nodded. 'Her name's Sawyer; Alicia Sawyer.'

'Alicia-Sawyer.' Kate grabbed a clean pad and wrote the woman's name at the top. But Alicia, she thought ruefully. Somehow that name didn't go with the rather shifty individual sitting opposite. Still- 'She hasn't been seen for a couple of months,' he added, rather curiously, Kate thought. Had he waited two months before deciding to report her missing? Or had the police been dealing with the matter up till now?

'And your name, Mr Sawyer?' she ventured, deciding to take things in order.' Your first name, that is,' she appended, arching her dark brows. 'Just for my records, of course.'

He frowned. 'Is that necessary?'

'If you don't mind.'

He waited a beat. 'It's-Henry,' he said at last. 'Henry Sawyer,' he repeated, with a sniff. 'Can we get on?'

Kate wrote his name beside that of his wife and then looked up. 'Of course,' she said pleasantly.

'Perhaps you'd better start by giving me her description. Or do you have a photograph?'

'What? Oh-yeah.' He rifled his pockets again and came up with a two-by-four-inch snapshot.

'That do?' he asked, hunching his shoulders with obvious irritation.

Kate looked at the photograph. She saw a blonde-haired woman with a well-developed figure.

The photograph was slightly smudged so the finer details were not clearly defined. 'Um-how old is Mrs Sawyer?' she asked, frowning, surprised at how attractive the woman was.

'I-' He hesitated and then blew out a breath. 'Thirty-nine,' he volunteered shortly. 'Yeah, that's right. Thirty-nine.'

Kate nodded and added that detail to her pad. 'I a.s.sume you reported her disappearance to the police?'

He looked down at his hands. 'Yeah, yeah,' he said. 'Of course I told the police my suspicions.

But you know what?' He looked up. 'They didn't want to know.'

Kate stared at him. 'I find that hard to believe.'

'Oh, they went through the motions,' he muttered harshly. 'But I didn't have any real evidence.

That was when I knew that finding her was up to me.'

Kate was confused. 'You say you reported your wife's disappearance to the police and they did nothing about it?'

He shrugged. 'Sort of.' And then, seeing her incredulity, he said, 'That's right.'

'But-'

'See, she wasn't living with me when she disappeared,' he added abruptly, and Kate began to get the feeling that he was just wasting her time.

'Not living with you?'

'No.' Sawyer flashed her a look of dislike. 'She walked out six months ago. Women!' He scowled. 'The b.i.t.c.h didn't even leave me a note.'

The b.i.t.c.h!

Kate made another note on her pad and then slid another sheet of paper over it. She didn't want him to see what she'd written down. 'If your wife left you six months ago-'

'She did.'

'Then surely her whereabouts are not your problem. If she doesn't want you to know where she is, Mr Sawyer-'

'I know where she went,' he broke in savagely, and Kate felt an uneasy twinge of alarm. She was alone in the building, the other office workers having left for home over an hour ago. She'd even let Susie go, a.s.suring her she could manage on her own. She'd only hung on because Sawyer had asked her to. He'd maintained he couldn't make it before six o'clock.

'If you know-' she began faintly, remembering that her father's old revolver was still in the bottom drawer of the desk. If he made a move on her, she could always threaten to use it. She didn't know if it was loaded, of course, but he wouldn't know that.

'Until she disappeared, I knew exactly where she was living,' he informed her impatiently, but at least he seemed less aggressive than before. 'But, like I said, no one's seen her recently, and I want to know where she is, all right?'

'All right.' Kate sighed, wondering how to broach her next question. 'Would you like to tell me why she-walked out?'

'Why d'you think? That b.a.s.t.a.r.d seduced her into leaving me, didn't he?' His jaw compressed.

'He stole my wife, Mrs Ross. And now she's disappeared, and he won't say where she's gone.'

Kate didn't correct him. Although her name wasn't Ross, it was sometimes easier to let people think it was. It gave a certain anonymity to her private life, and enabled her to use her own name when she didn't want to advertise her occupation.

She frowned. It was all becoming abundantly clear. This woman, his wife, Alicia Sawyer-that name still stuck in her throat-had run off with a man her husband knew. A friend of his, perhaps?

But no longer, obviously. If that was the case, she saw no reason why she shouldn't take it on.

'The other man,' she ventured now. 'You know him?'

'Oh, yeah, I know him,' he snarled, baring nicotine-stained teeth. 'His name's Kellerman; Alex Kellerman. Have you heard of him? He owns that big property just off the Bath Road.'

Kate felt her jaw drop and quickly rescued it. It wouldn't do to let her client see how shocked she was. But Alex Kellerman, she thought incredulously. She couldn't believe it. What would a man like Kellerman want with Henry Sawyer's wife?

But she had no right to think that way, she chided herself severely. If her photograph was anything to go by, Alicia Sawyer was a beautiful woman, and any man would be proud to be seen with her. Just because Alex Kellerman had had his own problems, that did not mean he was immune to s.e.xual attraction. Life was full of surprises. She should know; her own life hadn't exactly gone to plan.

'I-know who Mr Kellerman is,' she said now. And then, just in case he took her words literally, she added, 'I mean, I've heard of him, of course.' She tapped her pen against the pad in front of her, suddenly aware of the ramifications. 'The Kellerman stables are well known in King's Montford.' She took a breath. 'Um-how did your wife meet Mr Kellerman? Do you know?'

Sawyer gave her another scornful stare. 'Of course I know!' he exclaimed, as if it should have been obvious to her as well. 'She worked for him, didn't she?'

'Did she?' Kate's dark brows ascended again, but she refused to be intimidated this time.

'Well...' She made another note on her pad. 'That explains a lot. In what capacity was she employed?'

Sawyer regarded her sourly. 'You mean what was the job he offered her, don't you?' Kate nodded and he rubbed his nose with a grimy finger. 'Some kind of office work, I think. That's what she told me, anyway.'

'Right.' Kate added that piece of information to her list. 'Did she work there long?'

'Long enough.' Sawyer was bitter. 'Long enough to persuade her to leave me. We were happy enough until she went to work at Jamaica Hill.'

'And where did she go when she left you?' Kate thought she could see where this was going, but she wanted him to lay it out.

'To Jamaica Hill, of course. She went to live with Kellerman. She moved in there about six months ago.'

'Ah.' Kate rolled her lips inward. 'And you believe they were having an affair?'

'I don't just believe it. I know it.' He grimaced. 'She left me, didn't she? Why else would she do that?'

Kate could think of several reasons but she didn't voice them. 'And now you say she's not there any more.'

'She's gone missing,' he corrected her, his tone sour. 'I-I loved the silly b.i.t.c.h, didn't I? I've kept tabs on her ever since she left.'

Kate wondered if that const.i.tuted stalking, and then put the thought out of her head. It wasn't up to her to question his motives. If his wife had disappeared, it surely couldn't be too difficult to find out where she'd gone.

'So-you'd like to know where she's working now,' she said carefully, refusing to give any credit to a more sinister solution. He was jealous and resentful. That was normal. It was quite a relief to understand where he was coming from.

'If she is working somewhere else,' he put in grimly, and she couldn't quite suppress the unease that his words aroused inside her. 'See, she disappeared more than eight weeks ago. And no one seems to have heard from her since.'

Kate swallowed. 'She's probably left King's Montford,' she said, ignoring her misgivings.

'Perhaps she doesn't want-anyone-to know where she's gone.'

'I don't believe that,' he contradicted her harshly. 'That b.a.s.t.a.r.d's hiding something. And I guess you remember what happened to Kellerman's wife.'

Kate sucked in a breath. 'You're not seriously suggesting-'

'That he killed her?' interrupted Sawyer disparagingly. 'Why not? He got away with it before, didn't he?'

Kate gasped. 'Mrs Kellerman's death was accidental.'

'Was it?'

'Of course.' But she could feel herself trembling, even so. 'Besides,' she persevered, 'Mrs Sawyer was an employee. If he'd wanted to get rid of her, he only had to fire her.'

Sawyer could see her indecision. 'And what if Alicia refused to go quietly? Who knows what kind of scandal that would have caused? She was a sucker for a clever line, but she could be awkward, if it suited her. I doubt if Kellerman's business could have survived any more bad publicity.'

Kate shook her head. What had begun-in her eyes, at least-as a simple inquiry had suddenly a.s.sumed the proportions of a major investigation. Or it had if she gave any credence to what he was implying. For G.o.d's sake, was he mad? Alex Kellerman was not a monster. His wife had died in suspicious circ.u.mstances, but he'd been absolved of any blame.

And yet...

She didn't want to consider it, but she couldn't help remembering the torrid headlines a couple of years ago when Pamela Kellerman had broken her neck. She'd apparently been riding a horse that her husband knew to be dangerous, the tabloids had reported. At a time when she was three months pregnant with the couple's second child.

There'd been a lot of speculation, she recalled reluctantly. Despite Pamela Kellerman's pregnancy, it had been common knowledge that Alex Kellerman and his wife were having marital problems. It had been mooted that it was only because of their daughter, who had been two years old at the time, that they'd stayed together. It had even been hinted that the child she'd been carrying when she fell to her death wasn't her husband's. That she'd been having an affair and that was why her husband had snapped.

Of course, it had all been speculation. And the newspapers had been careful not to print anything that might give Alex Kellerman a reason to sue. But the fact remained that Pamela Kellerman should not have been riding that particular horse, and no one had ever satisfactorily explained why two horses with similar markings-but very dissimilar temperaments-should have been put into opposite stalls.

The inquest had proved to be quite a drama, with Pamela's father accusing his son-in-law in court. He had had to be led away by his solicitor, she remembered. Alex Kellerman had been cold and tight-lipped throughout the whole proceedings, but there'd been no evidence to implicate him.

Pamela's death had been judged accidental, and although the rumours had persisted for some time they'd eventually died away.