Twisted Hunger (Lust and Lies Series, Book 2)

Twisted Hunger

Lust & Lies Series

Book 2

by

Marilyn Campbell

USA Today Bestselling Author

Previously titled: For Every Evil

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www.epublishingworks.com

ISBN: 978-1-61417-220-8

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Copyright © 2007, 2012 by Marilyn Campbell. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

Originally released as EYE WITNESS by Kennedy Vance

Cover and eBook design by eBook Prep www.ebookprep.com

Thank You.

TWISTED HUNGER

Praise and Accolades

A sordid, twisted tale of suspense.

~Romance Reviews Today

A to-die-for plot, literally.

~The Romance Studio

For every evil under the sun

There is a remedy or there is none.

If there be one, seek till you find it;

If there be none, never mind it.

Prologue

Twenty-one Years Ago,

East Los Angeles, California

Damn, Terrell, you look like you're gonna puke. Luke Madigan kept his voice hushed in hopes that the guys in the front seat of the old car wouldn't hear.

I got a bad feelin' about this, man.

What the fuck you two girls whisperin' 'bout back there? Manny asked into the rearview mirror. Little cuz said you were both cool, but if you gonna shit your pants, tell me now.

When Luke's classmate, Pablo, told him what he and his older cousin, Manny, were planning to do that night, Luke had jumped at the opportunity to be involved in something so wild. His best friend, Terrell Harris, wasn't as anxious, but he hadn't wanted to be left behind either.

They were planning to get drunk, which in itself wasn't unusual, but the booze was going to be stolen. Talk about the ultimate high! Pablo had assured him that Manny was an old hand at breaking and entering, and knew which store would be the easiest and safest to hit. Besides that, he had his own car.

You sure no one's in there? Pablo asked as Manny pulled up in front of the liquor store.

"I told you already, I been watchin' this place. The old man don't live here. It'll be clean and easy. We bust in, the alarm goes off. We got plenty of time to grab whatever shit we want before any cops show up. This is the fuckin' barrio. Nobody cares about an alarm going off in a liquor store."

Luke shot one more glance at Terrell before slipping out of the backseat and following Manny's lead.

It took Manny less than five seconds to smash the glass on the front door, reach in and unlock the deadbolt. Instantly the alarm blared at ear-splitting decibels. Manny shouted something unintelligible at the boys and headed for the cash register.

Luke only had a moment to realize that Manny intended to steal more than a bottle of rum before an explosion grabbed his total attention. To everyone's shock, the owner was standing in the doorway of the back room holding a smoking, double-barreled shotgun.

Despite the screaming alarm and the owner's broken English, it was perfectly clear that the man was beyond pissed and was ordering them to stand still.

Luke's shock multiplied when Manny pulled a pistol out of his jacket and fired at the owner. Though the bullet struck the man's shoulder, it didn't prevent him from pulling the shotgun trigger a second time.

Luke knew he would never forget the look on Manny's face the instant before his chest was obliterated.

As the owner swiftly reloaded the shotgun, Luke, Terrell and Pablo took off in separate directions. For several blocks, Luke heard the man shouting behind him as he raced from certain death.

It had all happened so fast. Would the owner be able to identify him to the police? His light brown hair and fair skin made him stand out from the others—Terrell being the darkest of the three—but Luke didn't live nearby, had never been in that neighborhood before and definitely had no intention of ever going near there again.

As far as his parents knew, he was securely tucked in bed. They would vouch for his whereabouts, if he could just sneak back in without them discovering his absence. If he wasn't caught in the next few minutes, he just might get away with the most stupid thing he had ever done.

Unless the connection between Manny and Pablo was made, and Pablo was forced to squeal...

Luke swiped at the drop of sweat that stung his eye without slowing his frantic pace. His heart felt as though it would burst at any moment. There were still so many things he had hoped to do before he died—getting laid being at the top of the list. For chrissakes, he thought, I don't even have my driver's license yet. It occurred to him that God might be more helpful if he offered him some sort of deal.

The sound of a police siren spurred him to concentrate on his escape.

Something squished beneath his shoe. The stench of garbage and urine along the side street was nauseating, but he had to ignore that too. A scrawny cat with glowing yellow eyes screeched at him, causing another rush of fear-induced adrenaline.

Luke glanced fearfully behind him one more time, then made a left up the next street, hoping it was one that would lead him out of this maze of dark, stinking alleys and back into civilization as he knew it. He was too many miles from his Pasadena home to run the entire way, but he intended to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible before catching a bus.

How could he have been such an idiot?

Tonight was supposed to be a test of manhood, unbeatable proof of how cool they were. No one was supposed to get hurt.

An overwhelming wave of nausea and dizziness warned Luke that he could not go much farther without resting for a moment. When he estimated that he'd gone about twenty blocks and could no longer hear any sirens or running footsteps behind him, he started looking for a place to catch his breath.

A flickering streetlight drew his attention to a narrow alley between two buildings, and his flight came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the dim halo on the street. Leaning against the concrete wall, he inhaled deeply once before realizing there were already two people taking advantage of the alcove—a hooker and her client. Luke took in the shadowed outline of the woman with her back to him, standing with her spiked heels wide apart and the man on his knees between them.

Pushing himself away from the wall, Luke was about to move on when his second gasping breath reached the woman's ears. As she turned toward the sound, a surge of electrical power allowed the faltering streetlight to momentarily illuminate her portion of the alleyway.

For several heartbeats they were both paralyzed by the surprise of being discovered. But what Luke saw caused sufficient panic to get him running again.

In the whore's right hand was a blood-drenched knife and, clutched in her left, was her client's nearly severed head.

Chapter 1

Present Day,

Oakland, California

I'm so sorry.

I can't tell you how much we will all miss her.

She was an incredible woman. So creative. I'll never forget the time...

If there is anything you need...

You know Audrey wouldn't have wanted to go on the way she was. Try to think of it as a blessing.

A blessing. Ellery Winters nodded solemnly as she continued to accept the words of condolence, the sympathetic hugs and firm handclasps. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty over the awareness that perhaps she, rather than her mother, had been blessed by her death.

No, Audrey Weiss would not have wanted to go on in the condition that she had been in, yet she would have been optimistically expecting a miraculous recovery right up to her final labored breath.

Once Ellery had accepted the fact that her mother had virtually no chance of improving, however, she had begun to pray for the other kind of release for the woman whom she adored and respected most in the world.

The cold March shower had not deterred people from attending the graveside service. Quite a few were employees of Audrey's catering company. Some were clients. All were friends.

Everyone had been stunned when the energetic fifty-two-year-old woman had suffered a massive heart attack three weeks ago while managing a party in a private home in Sausalito. Because of a guest's passable knowledge of CPR and the swift arrival of the paramedics, actual death was postponed, but Audrey was no longer a vital human being.

A shell of her former self, she had to be kept on a ventilator, lightly restrained and heavily sedated. The rare seconds of consciousness she did have were confused, and communication was accomplished only by her pointing to letters on an alphabet screen to spell out a word or two at a time.

Ellery found it very distressing that, of the few words she did communicate using an alphabet board, horrible, secret and scared were repeated several times. The nurses had told her that some people have terrible nightmares and vivid hallucinations on morphine and other medications. Between the drugs being administered to Audrey and how badly her brain had been damaged from the temporary lack of oxygen after her heart attack, it had been assumed that the words were probably meaningless.

There were other partially formed words in the weeks before her death, but even the attempt to relate them would agitate Audrey so terribly, she had to be more deeply sedated.

Understanding that the end could come at any time, Ellery had taken a leave of absence from her position as a congressman's aide in Washington, D.C., to be with her mother. She was extremely grateful when the hospital staff bent the rules to allow her to stay in Audrey's intensive-care room as long as she wished. But as the days dragged on, the bedside vigil had begun to wear on Ellery's nerves.

Hour after hour, she'd watched the once vibrant woman lie there, slowly deteriorating physically, pitifully dependent on tubes and machines to perform the simplest biological functions.

Yet those occasional moments of consciousness confirmed that parts of her brain were still operating, and Ellery could not take action to end her mother's tortured existence. She could only ask God to do what was best for both their sakes.

The small crowd gradually moved toward their cars, allowing Ellery and Audrey's third husband, Ken Weiss, a few minutes of solitude to say their final goodbyes to the woman they would sorely miss.

Although Ken had been married to her mother for nearly five years, and her employee for several years before that, Ellery had never been able to work up any affection for the man, let alone think of him as a stepfather. He had been a chef most of his life, but she was quite certain Ken could have had a successful career in the military. His distinct German accent, stiff posture, and short-cropped white hair and goatee perfectly complemented his restrictive personality.

Besides that, her height seemed to be an obstacle between them as well. At five foot nine, Ellery stood eye-to-eye with Ken, until she put heels on, which she usually did. He clearly disliked looking up at her. Her mother's five-foot one-inch, well-padded frame made him much more comfortable. Today, Ellery had purposely worn flats for him.

All that mattered, however, was that he had apparently been a good companion to Audrey, as well as an honest business partner.

While Ellery sat by Audrey's side in the hospital, Ken spent most of his time the last three weeks keeping the catering company running smoothly. Since he was trying to do Audrey's job as well as his own, Ellery knew she should not have faulted him for his absence from his wife's bedside, but his lack of displayed concern still irritated her.

If only she had taken more of an interest in her mother's business, they might have been able to share the responsibilities, but her interest had been totally captured by politics long before the catering service had been born. In truth, it was created so that Audrey could give her daughter the opportunity to achieve her dreams. Audrey had admired her daughter's ambitions and had done everything possible to help her surpass any limitations that might be placed on her as a woman.

Ellery realized just how much her mother had sacrificed for her when she imposed on an influential client to secure Ellery a job in a congressman's office on the opposite side of the country, even though the physical separation was the last thing Audrey wanted. She had claimed that her tears were of joy the day Ellery drove off into her future, but they both knew she was lying.

Ellery thought she was all cried out, but remembering that day filled her eyes with moisture once again. Oh Mom, I love you so much, and now I'll never be able to repay you for everything you did for me.

I understand that it is customary for people to pay a visit to the house after the service, Ken said in a tone that revealed nothing about his thoughts. We should go now.

She nodded and started to walk with him toward his car when a gray car stopped on the nearby lane. A man wearing a dark suit and hat quickly exited from the driver's door and waved at them.

Miss Winters!

Ellery and Ken waited for the man to catch up to them.

Do you know him? she asked quietly.

I do not believe so.

I'm sorry I'm late, the man gushed with sincerity as he approached. My plane was delayed for hours, and I miscalculated the distance... Pardon me. I'm Carl Brevowski. He smiled and offered his hand to Ellery then Ken. It's been a few years since I last heard from Audrey. I believe you were about to receive your master's degree at Berkley.

Ellery returned his smile, though she had no idea who he was. That was more than a few years ago.

Ken cleared his throat. We were about to return home. People are waiting for us. Perhaps you would like to reminisce with Ellery there.

Mr. Brevowski's mouth turned down. I wish I could, but as I said, I miscalculated my timing. He brightened as an idea occurred to him. Would you consider allowing me to drive you home, Miss Winters? That way, we could visit on the way. It's about something I promised your mother long ago.

Part of Ellery's brain was reminding her that it wasn't safe to get into a car with a stranger, no matter the circumstances, but her intuition told her he was not there to harm her. And he might actually have something important to tell her. The decision was made when she recalled how uncomfortable she felt riding in a car alone with Ken. That would be very nice. Ken, I'll see you back at the house. For a split second she thought his face changed expression, but she couldn't tell if it was disapproval or worry. I'll be fine. Carl is an old friend of Mom's.

Ellery walked beside Mr. Brevowski to his car but did not get in when he opened the passenger door for her. With a direct look, she stated, You're not an old friend of my mother's.

No, I'm not, he replied with equal bluntness. But I needed to speak with you regarding a highly confidential matter involving your mother's death. The fact that you played along with me in front of your stepfather assures me that your instincts are up to the task ahead.

Ellery narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Whether it's my good instincts or experience in Washington, I know better than to accept any of what you just said on face value.

Mr. Brevowski gave her an appreciative nod. Of course. If you'll have a seat, I'll explain everything then I'll drive you home, as promised.

After another moment's hesitation, she got into the man's car and took off her black-veiled hat. By the time Mr. Brevowski slid behind the steering wheel, she had formulated and discarded several scenarios that might follow his mysterious comments.

His expression was one of grave concern as he scanned her features. I was told you were attractive, but I hadn't expected you to be quite so... exceptional. That could be a problem. At least you don't look anything like your mother.

That was hardly news to Ellery. Besides their drastically different body shapes, her mother had light gray eyes and fair hair that had gone silver years ago. Ellery had inherited the coloring of her father's family—dark reddish-brown hair with hazel eyes. As to his comment about her attractiveness being a problem, she knew from experience that her appearance gave her both advantages and disadvantages, depending on the situation.

He made her wait a few more seconds while he removed his own hat and carefully placed it on the back seat. It appeared to be as expensive as his suit and tie. His attire and manicured nails suggested he was a professional of some sort. Based on the moderate amount of gray in his salon-styled haircut and the lines across his forehead and around his eyes, she placed his age in the mid-forties with a lot of stress in his life. He was probably an attorney.

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he finally began his explanation. "As I'm sure you're aware, many of the state primaries are now over, and there doesn't appear to be any doubt that Sam Erikson will be heading the Republican ticket come November. Unless he commits a monumental faux pas between now and then, he will probably also win the election by a landslide."

Ellery had met the governor of Illinois and, although she didn't agree with Erikson's nearly right-wing platform, she did respect his record.

Rather than respond with any personal opinions, however, she narrowed her eyes and said, As you said, I am aware of the situation, but I didn't get in this car to discuss politics. You implied that you know something about my mother's death. I would much prefer to hear what you meant by that.

I assure you that is where I'm leading, but the situation is so delicate, it is imperative that we establish certain facts first. Please bear with me.

She wasn't happy about his evasive answer but she motioned for him to continue.

You studied political science at Berkeley, Miss Winters. If you were one of Erikson's advisors, who would you recommend he select as a running mate?

His question intrigued her despite its irrelevance. Well, I'd tell him he needs to balance the ticket politically by choosing someone who was far enough left to be a Democrat, but still firmly entrenched in the Republican Party.

Mr. Brevowski angled his head at her. Can you be more specific?

As a state governor, Erickson's focus has been on domestic matters. He's a little weak on the international stage. So an ideal veep should have some foreign affairs experience. Geographically, his base is the Northeast and the last president was from the South. I'd look for someone from the central or western United States.

Mr. Brevowski smiled slightly. So far, you've given the exact same recommendations that Erikson's advisors made. But can you suggest a name?

She sighed but decided to answer that question, and then she was going to insist he explain why they were talking politics while her mother's casket was being lowered into the ground. My first thought would be Abraham Lincoln Jones. And quite honestly, Mr. Brevowski, I've had enough of Twenty Questions. Either tell me what connection any of this has with my mother's death or take me home.

I apologize, he said with a frown. "It was inconsiderate of me to approach you during your hour of grief, but time is of the essence and my questions are pertinent. You're right, of course. Jones is the name that's bubbled to the top. Being a California state senator puts him in the desired electoral region. Plus, he's a favorite of some of the most liberal groups in America. And he's a child of world politics. His mother is the daughter of a Republican U.S. senator, his father a diplomat, assigned to various American consulates around the world. Jones was born in Paris, spent his grade school years in New Zealand and Australia, high school in Japan and the first two years of college in Germany. In other words, he seems to be perfect."

Ellery couldn't help but hear the insinuation that Jones was not what he seemed, but beyond that, she was still in the dark.

You know your mother was in Senator Jones' Sausalito home when she had a heart attack. And his name was the only one she managed to communicate clearly, besides yours and her husband's, along with words like 'horrible', 'secret', 'scared', 'saw' and 'he'. Is that not correct?

Ellery was no longer intrigued or impatient. Icy fear was creeping into her mind. He had just recited most of the list of fully formed words her mother had managed to point out on the alphabet screen during her conscious moments.

Considering the fact that Audrey had been in the senator's home, Ellery had not thought there was anything unusual about her mother spelling out his last name. Rather than raising her suspicions about Jones, however, Mr. Brevowski's insinuations made her leery of him.

How... how do you know about those words?

Let's just say I have my sources. I also know that your mother once told you there was something not quite right about Senator Jones and his wife.

She felt her stomach fill with acid. Not quite right was the precise phrase her mother had used during a telephone conversation with her, but that call had taken place nearly a year ago, after Audrey's first catering job for the senator.

Her mother made a similar comment when she visited Washington a few months ago. She talked about the uncomfortable tension she'd picked up in the Sausalito home the four times she catered parties there. She mentioned strange looks shared between the senator and his wife when they thought no one was watching. She had the feeling that Mrs. Jones was not the sanitary political wife everyone assumed she was.

Though her mother's intuition was often right on target, Ellery had figured she had to be wrong this time. Everyone else seemed to highly approve of Honest Abe Jones.

However, whether Audrey had been right or wrong, the important point here was, how did Carl Brevowski know about her intuitive feelings? I don't believe it's customary procedure for a junior-level congressman's aide to be spied on or to have her phone tapped without a valid reason. I'd appreciate it if you'd give me one, Mr. Brevowski... which I now doubt is your real name. And while you're at it, you can tell me which agency you work for.

He waved a hand at her. I'm not affiliated with any official government agency. Due to the delicacy of this matter, I can only tell you that I represent a group of people who have a vested interest in the future of this country, and it is their belief that Abraham Lincoln Jones should be kept out of the White House.

Why don't you simply present your group's concerns to the Republican National Committee and let them—

"The Committee, as well as routine private investigations, has confirmed that Jones' background is spotless. No one has uncovered a single blemish that would make him an unfit candidate. The worst thing anyone has come up with is some ancient gossip that Mrs. Jones was somewhat, shall we say, loose in her college days, but since she has apparently been completely respectable since then, no one cares if the gossip is true or not."

In a sarcastic tone she said, And yet you and your group want to find something big enough to do just that. Why don't you manufacture something or try entrapment? That might work.

He smirked at her. Our goal would stand a better chance of success if it was achieved honestly. We're seriously concerned about his political platform and economic views.

Since when do the opinions of the vice president seriously concern anyone?

Since there is a very realistic question about Erikson's advanced age and a health matter, despite what is being formally released to the public. Whoever is chosen as his running mate could very well end up King of the Hill. But before I go further, I want to assure you that your phone was never tapped. We have been observing Jones' political climb for some time. More recently, our, uh, observations extended to people around him.

Ellery shook her head in disbelief. My mother was an independent caterer, not an employee of Jones. His shrug didn't make her feel any better. I'm out of here. She opened the car door to get out but his fingers closed around her upper arm to hold her inside.

Jones may have killed your mother, he said quickly.

That was enough to keep her there. My mother was not murdered, she suffered a heart attack.

There are ways to kill someone and make it appear to be a heart attack. I doubt that any of the medical personnel administering to your mother would have been looking for an injection mark in a discreet place on her body.

Ellery rubbed the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. This is ridiculous. Why would the senator want my mother dead?

Remember the messages she was trying so hard to convey to you? We believe there's a chance that Audrey Weiss saw something she wasn't supposed to see that night—something terrible enough for her to use words like 'horrible' and 'scared'. Perhaps she witnessed an incident or came across some sort of evidence that revealed that Jones was not the loyal American everyone thinks he is. If so, we need to find out what she saw... before he's named as a running mate for Erikson.

Again, she shook her head. The national convention is less than five months away. If no one has uncovered any negative information by now, how do you think you could find it between now and August?

"Unfortunately, we really don't even have that much time. The party wants Erikson to name his proposed running mate on the Fourth of July. They believe it will make good press, especially if that mate's name is Abraham Lincoln. With that in mind, Jones' aide in his Sacramento office has just accepted an offer in the private sector that requires her to leave his employ by May 15. We intend to put one of our people in her place, and although we have several others in mind, we think you'd be the best choice."

Why? she asked with an increasing feeling of dread.

Your credentials are legitimate and impressive enough that it would not be difficult for us to put a few words in the right ears and get you the position. We can practically guarantee your acceptance with little more than a superficial background check. Your interest in politics and the future of America should be enough for you to want to learn the truth. But more than that, you have a personal motivation. Don't you want to know why your mother has been taken away from you?

Of course I do, she snapped back at him. "But you're asking me to be a spy for an unidentified group of people. I'm not sure I can be so... so sneaky. Besides that, I voted for Jones in the last election. I like his platform."

Then prove that he's innocent of any wrongdoing. Either way, if you work with us on this, we'll guarantee you an easy path into that seat in the California House of Representatives that you've wanted so badly.

Her brows shot up. Did he know everything about her? "I don't believe I'll need anyone's questionable assistance to get elected. In time—"

We can shorten that timetable of yours. You know very well that honesty and experience do not always win elections, and if you don't win, you can't make a difference, now can you?

His words hit another vulnerable chord. She wanted to see changes made in the system, and she couldn't do that as an aide to an unambitious congressman.

The truth was, it would enhance her credentials if she were Jones' aide when he went on to become vice president. On the other hand, if he didn't, because his horrible secret was something traitorous, she could end up being painted with the same brush.

She took a deep breath. What if your suspicions are right about my mother witnessing something she shouldn't have? Wouldn't I be putting my own life on the line then?

Possibly. That's why you'd have to keep your relationship to Audrey Weiss a secret, just in case. At any rate, we'd be watching you closely. You might not see us, but if it looked like you were in trouble, we'd get you out. I'm afraid you'd have to trust me on that.

She wasn't at all convinced that he could save her from danger if it truly existed, but if there was any possibility that her mother's death was not by natural means, she owed it to her to right that injustice. All right. You've got yourself a spy. But only until I'm satisfied one way or the other.

Good. As soon as I've made all the necessary arrangements, I'll contact you again, but our plan at this moment is to have you in Jones' office by the first of May. That will give you about two weeks to train with his present aide. The best-case scenario would be for her to tip you off to something before she leaves, so try to get friendly with her. He pulled a card out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "Meanwhile, if you absolutely must reach me, call this number from a public phone, never your cell phone or any line that could be connected to you, even indirectly. When you hear a beep, punch in four eights and hang up. I will be your only contact. Don't trust anyone else who approaches you from this moment on, even an old acquaintance."

Ellery mentally amended his last sentence. She would trust no one from now on, including Mr. Carl Brevowski.

Chapter 2

Stewart Neuman's psychic counselor had predicted that a mysterious new love interest would enter his life in mid-May and, for once, she was right on the money.

He watched the white sedan with the darkened windows pull up to the curb in front of his men's clothing store on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. He quickly glanced at his Movado watch. Not only had Jewel returned to have dinner with him as promised, his new acquaintance was early. Stewart took that as a very good sign. Until that moment, he had not allowed himself to get excited about the suggestions Jewel had made that afternoon. Now he welcomed the tremors of anticipation that he'd been holding at bay.

It was five minutes past closing, but one of his regular customers was still looking around. Though he would not normally do anything to offend someone who routinely spent several hundred dollars for a tie, he was no longer thinking of business. Within the customer's hearing, he told his two employees that he would close up and they could go home. It bordered on rudeness, but it worked. The customer made a decision and brought a shirt up to the cash register.

Logic warned Stewart not to hope for anything beyond tonight with Jewel. After all, his heart had barely begun to recover from his last lover's betrayal. And yet his intuition told him Jewel was cut from a much finer bolt of cloth than Corey had been. Besides being considerably more mature, Jewel was obviously sophisticated, with an aura of mystery to boot.

When Jewel first entered the shop, Stewart assumed she was a wealthy woman who wanted to keep her identity hidden. Although the pale pink Armani suit and matching pumps showed off a well-maintained figure, the cream lace headscarf covered all her hair except dark blonde bangs, and large sunglasses concealed her eyes.

After only a few minutes of conversation, the woman surprised him with an invitation to dinner. When he tactfully declined, she untied the collar bow on her cream silk blouse, revealing a man's Adam's apple, then repeated the invitation in a deeper, masculine voice. Stewart had been delighted that he was completely fooled by the masquerade and was titillated by the innuendoes exchanged after Jewel had admitted to his true gender. He seemed to be exactly what was needed to forget about Corey.

When Jewel continued to remain in the car rather than come inside the store to wait, Stewart grew curious. Perhaps Jewel's feminine disguise was hiding more about his identity than his sex. Perhaps he was an actor who was too well known to be seen going out on a date with a man. If that was the case, he supposed their dinner would have to be in a discreet location. As his imagination conjured several intriguing scenarios, he closed the store in record time.

As soon as Stewart neared the car, Jewel pushed open the passenger door for him. "I'm so