Maxine (Donatelli Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Blind Love ~ Excerpt

  Backlist

  Author Bio

  Author's Note

  MAXINE

  Donatelli Family: Book One

  by

  Sue Fineman

  Maxine

  Copyright © 2011 Sue Fineman

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Sue Fineman.

  Published by Amazon KDP

  Seattle, WA

  Electronic KDP Edition: September, 2011

  This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

  Newlywed Cara Andrews overhears her husband talking to his “honey” about locking Cara in an institution so he can steal her inheritance. Frightened for her safety, Cara sneaks away from their home in Seattle and rents a run-down cabin in Gig Harbor. She can’t go her estate in California because it’s the first place her husband will look for her.

  When the cabin collapses in an earthquake, a neighbor, Nick Donatelli, risks his life to rescue Cara. He takes her to his home, cleans her up, and takes care of her. The roads are damaged, power and phones are out. They’re trapped in Nick’s cabin on the shores of Puget Sound, but the paramedics come by boat to take her to the hospital. She’s afraid to go alone, afraid someone will recognize her and her husband will find her, so she claims she’s Nick’s wife, Maxine Donatelli.

  Nick is warm and friendly, and she enjoys his company. But Cara is a one of the wealthiest women in the world, and Nick is a man who works with his hands. When he learns who she is, he’s uncomfortable with her wealth. Cara wished she really was Maxine Donatelli, an ordinary woman with an ordinary life. Married to an extraordinary man.

  Cara knows she has to leave before her husband tracks her down. She doesn’t want him to hurt Nick. She’s falling in love, but her husband is a ruthless man who’ll do anything to get his hands on her estate. Including murder.

  Chapter One

  The men with the cameras were gone. Cara peered out the bedroom window, looking down the street and by the corner bus stop where the photographers hung out, but there wasn’t one in sight. Had they finally given up?

  What did people see in her anyway? Cara Andrews wasn’t an actor or celebrity, and the only attractive thing about her was her long, reddish-gold hair. If those tabloid photographers knew what a dull person she was, they’d leave her alone and go take pictures of someone interesting, like Oprah.

  Wind rustled the tender new leaves on the maple tree and bright sunshine streamed through the window. With the cameras gone and Lance at work, she had the freedom to explore the city, and she couldn’t have picked a prettier day for it.

  Smiling at her newfound freedom, Cara dressed quickly and pulled her waist-length ponytail through the back of a Seattle Mariners baseball cap. Grabbing a jacket, she headed for the stairs.

  Halfway down, she heard her husband’s voice. What’s he doing home? He’s supposed to start his new job today. The study was right below the stairs, and he’d left the doors open. Curious, she stopped to listen.

  “Don’t worry, she won’t hear me,” he said. “I gave her a double dose last night. She’ll sleep most of the day.”

  Dose of what? Was he talking about her? Had he been putting something in the tea he made her every night? Was that why she’d been sleeping so much since they moved to Seattle? Why would he do that? Too stunned to move, Cara stood quietly on the stairs, listening to her husband talk on the phone.

  “I’ll take her on a weekend trip to the island to celebrate our four-month anniversary. She’ll never suspect a thing.... Yes, of course she’ll have a private room, her own nurse. It’s a nice sanitarium. Expensive, but nice. They’ll take good care of her.”

  Oh, God, no! Cara’s hand covered her mouth to hold in the mournful cry that threatened to break loose. Don’t cry, Cara. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

  “Come on, honey. She’ll end up in one anyway. Everyone knows mental illness is inherited.... No, I told you before, I can’t put her in the same one her mother lived in. It’s too risky to use one here in the states.”

  Honey? He has another woman? How long has this been going on? She took deep breaths, but couldn’t stop her body from shaking. Lance wasn’t just having an affair. He wanted to lock her away in a sanitarium.

  “The place on St. Rupert’s is private, secluded, good security. It’s the best place for her. I checked it out myself. It’s like a tropical country club.... No, it’s not like that. This place is really nice. It’ll be like a permanent vacation. They have a private beach, library, all the comforts of home and then some. She’ll be fine once she gets used to it.”

  Nice? A rat-infested hole with people screaming to get out? Cara would rather die than live in a place like that. Maybe she should send Lance and his “honey” there and see how they liked it. Had Lance ever been on St. Rupert’s Island? No, probably not, but she had. She wouldn’t put her worst enemy in that place. It was like a prison, with razor wire around the fence and armed guards to shoot those who dared to try to escape. Fresh tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back. If anyone saw her crying, they might think she really was crazy.

  “We’ll travel and see the world, maybe take a cruise around the Greek Islands. Would you like that?” His soft, deep laughter, once familiar and comforting, made her skin crawl. She wrapped her arms around her body to keep from shaking so hard. When they married, he promised to take her there.

  “Don’t worry about Cara. They won’t drug her or use restraints unless she makes trouble. She’ll be all right there. I’ll check with her doctors often and make sure she’s okay.”

  If he thought he could lock her away, he had a surprise coming. She’d give her entire estate away before she’d let that snake have it. Thank God she poured out the tea he made her last night. If she hadn’t... she couldn’t even consider what might have happened to her.

  Cara had never been a fighter, but she’d fight this with everything in her. Unshed tears burned her eyes. She’d trusted the wrong man with her love, and she had no one to blame but herself. What a gullible fool she’d been. She had a security staff, yet she didn’t bother to have Lance checked out before she married him. He’d charmed her with his handsome looks and glib lies. Until now, she’d believed every word. Until now, I thought he loved me.

  What made her think she could have a normal life with a loving husband and children of her own? After she ended her marriage and took control of the estate, she’d live the rest of her life in that luxury prison she called a home, with armed guards to protect her. Alone.

  The desk chair squeaked and Lance ended his phone call. Her heart raced. She couldn’t let him know she’d heard. Without making a sound, Cara crept back to the bedroom and crawled in bed to hide in plain sight until he left the house.

  Seconds later, Lance walk
ed into the bedroom whistling. Without glancing at the bed, he opened her jewelry box and picked through it, putting several pieces in his pocket. She lay very still, the covers pulled up to her chin to hide her clothes. Then he closed her jewelry box, grabbed his gym bag, and left the room, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Too scared to move, she stayed in bed until she heard the kitchen door slam, then she jumped up and peeked out the window to see him driving away in her car. “Oh, no!” Of all the days to take her car, why did it have to be today? She didn’t have keys for his car. She’d have to take a taxi or the bus, anything to get away from this house before he returned.

  Lance and his ‘honey’ thought they could live the high life on her money, but she’d give it all away before she let that snake spend another dime.

  Still shaking, she quickly packed a bag. Lance would think she’d gone home to the estate in California, so she couldn’t go there. She’d have to find another place to live while she figured out how to end her marriage without giving Lance half her grandfather’s estate.

  <>

  Nick Donatelli finished hanging the kitchen cabinets, then loaded his tool box in the back of his car. Time to quit work for the day. He liked construction work, liked watching someone’s new house go up, but he couldn’t depend on a steady income. A job might last a few days or a few months, and then he’d be on unemployment until the next one came along. Someday he wanted to own a construction company, but that dream seemed out of reach. He’d lost all his savings in the divorce.

  “C’mon, Nick,” Tony called. “It’s singles night at the comedy club, and it’s time you met some people.”

  “Meaning women?”

  Tony shrugged. He was the best looking of Nick’s cousins, and he had a reputation with women. Not necessarily a good one. In spite of that, he never seemed to have any problem finding dates. Tony didn’t need to drag Nick along to find himself a woman, and he didn’t need anyone in the way if he got lucky. And he would. Tony could have any woman he wanted.

  Although Nick was single again, the bitterness lingered over his ex-wife’s treachery. And now Tony wanted him to go out and meet women? Start over with another woman who’d rip out what was left of his heart? No, thanks.

  “Take Angelo, Tony.” Without further discussion, Nick started his car and drove home to the little house his cousins had helped him build after his divorce. His beach house had a big mortgage, but he didn’t have to share it with Lisa. Didn’t have to live there with a woman who thought only of herself and her career. She didn’t care that she’d ripped his heart out.

  After a long, hot shower, Nick sat on the deck eating his dinner. It was barely April, and there was a bite to the air, but he didn’t mind. The green hills framing the water had been washed clean from yesterday’s rain, and the late afternoon sun sparkled off the gray waters of Puget Sound. He loved living on the water. He had a long flight of stairs from the house up to the road, and it was a nuisance lugging groceries in, but that was a small sacrifice for the privilege of living in his own private paradise.

  He tossed a crust of bread on the beach for the shore birds and walked down the beach. There were only four other houses along this stretch of beach. The middle three were vacation homes owned by people from Seattle. Those places sat empty most of the year. The lights were on in old Mrs. Martin’s house at the end, but Mrs. Martin had passed away several months ago. As he walked closer, a woman with long black hair walked past the living room window. He couldn’t believe someone was living there again. Tony had talked about renting it, so he’d have a private place to take women, but after he saw it up close, he changed his mind. The land had a gentle slope down to the water and an outstanding view, but the house had termites and so much rot it wasn’t safe to live there. If Nick owned that house, he’d tear it down and start over.

  Pretty colors streaked across the sky as the sun set over the water. Nick stood quietly, gazing at the sky until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

  He was so lonesome he couldn’t stand it.

  Maybe he should have gone with Tony.

  <>

  Cara dried her hair in front of the woodstove. In her rush to get away from the house, she’d forgotten to bring a hair dryer. She’d left a lot of things behind, and since she’d emptied their joint bank accounts before she left Seattle, Lance would probably pawn the rest of the jewelry she’d brought with her. She’d left most of the valuable things at the estate in California.

  Her guardians thought Lance was wonderful. Marrying him had been the first thing she’d ever done that pleased them. Did they know what he was planning? Did they care? They’d always hated her. If it had been up to her, they would have been gone the week they came, but at thirteen, she was considered by the trustees to be too young to make that decision.

  One day soon she’d take control of the estate and throw those people out of her home. If she wasn’t such an emotional mess, she’d go home and do it now. And then she’d find a good attorney and end her marriage. The trustees in charge of her grandfather’s estate had an attorney on staff, but she couldn’t call him and risk her guardians finding out. If they knew where she was, they’d undoubtedly tell Lance.

  She peered in the bathroom mirror and sighed. Her eyes were still swollen from crying so much, and her hair looked awful. Changing the color had changed her appearance enough that people may not recognize her. The box said the color was temporary, that it would wash out in time. Maybe by then she’d have her life in order.

  The dumpy little cabin she rented was fairly secluded, and Lance would never believe she’d live in a place like this, so she should be safe here until she figured out how to end her marriage on her terms. He didn’t deserve to profit from their brief union, but California was a community property state. Washington probably was, too. There must be a way around that law, a way to end her marriage without paying him off.

  The setting sun sparkled on the water and a man walked by on the beach. He looked up and waved, and she waved back. He must live in the little house at the other end of the beach, the only other one along here that looked lived-in. She hoped he didn’t recognize her.

  <>

  Lance Berkshire had a dread in the pit of his stomach. Cara didn’t come home last night, but his wife wouldn’t have snuck out of the house and cleaned out their bank accounts unless she intended to stay gone. She must have heard him on the phone with Sally.

  He worked and re-worked scenarios in his mind, trying to figure out what to do about her. If he couldn’t take her out of the picture, he couldn’t get his hands on her money. He could kill her, but he’d be the prime suspect, and he didn’t want anyone investigating him. If the cops took his fingerprints, they’d know his true identity. Killing her wasn’t an option unless he could make it look like an accident or suicide. Even then it was risky.

  Discrediting Cara, claiming she was crazy like her mother, seemed the best way. Nobody trusted rich people anyway, so he’d have public sympathy on his side. Yes, that might work. If he didn’t find her in the next day or two, he’d ask the public to help him find his ‘sick’ wife. If she thought she could get away with leaving him high and dry, she didn’t know who she was dealing with.

  The private detective he hired tracked Cara to a car rental place at the airport. The car she’d rented had been returned two hours later, and she didn’t use her credit cards to rent another one. She probably bought a car, but there were hundreds of car dealers in the Puget Sound area. It would take time to track her down.

  A wave of anger tore through him. Bitch! If Cara wanted to play games, he’d handle her the same way he’d handled that stupid woman in San Diego. Nobody screwed him and got away with it. By the time he finished with Cara Andrews, she’d be as crazy as her mother.

  Or dead.

  <>

  Nick had just finished washing off the deck Sunday afternoon when a strong jolt nearly knocked him off his feet. What the hell was that? Seconds
later, another one hit, this one even sharper than the first, and the ground shook like a giant vibrating bed gone out of control.

  Earthquake.

  Sounds of timbers snapping and glass breaking down the beach pulled his attention away from his own house. The Martin place was unstable without an earthquake, and a woman lived there. As soon as the shaking stopped, Nick jogged down the beach to see if she was all right.

  He passed one cabin where the deck had broken loose from the foundation and rested on the ground. Another cabin had several cracked windows, but every window in Mrs. Martin’s little house was broken or shattered by the strong jolts. From the amount of debris under the living room, the floor must have given way.

  The living room wall exploded out and the roof came down over that side of the house. The foundation beams, perched on pier blocks and eaten away by termites, had failed, pulling everything else out of kilter and weakening the entire structure.

  A woman’s terrified scream came from inside the house, raising goose bumps on his arms. He ran closer and yelled, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m scared, and the cabin is still moving.”

  It sure as hell was. “Where are you?”

  “In the bedroom,” she called back. “I can’t get to the door. The living room floor is gone.”

  One of the supports under the deck snapped and the deck caved in. The place was falling in on itself. If that woman didn’t get her fanny out here in the next few seconds, she might never get out. Maybe she could jump out the window. “Can you get to the bedroom window?”

  “I think so.”