Deadly Deception - By Andrea Johnson Beck Page 0,2

so peaceful sleeping I didn’t want to disturb you.” Anne felt warm inside at the recollection of her fiancé lying next to her, shirtless, exposing his faultless muscles.

“Do you have time for lunch? Say in an hour.” She heard a faint soft voice in the background. “Tell him to wait, Victoria. Anne, I have to go. See you at noon here?”

“Sure, see you soon.” Anne replied, trying to keep her annoyed tone to a dainty decibel.

Anne couldn’t stand Adam’s assistant Victoria Cameron, the law firm succubus.

“Great, I love you babe.”

“I love you too.” Anne replied, tapping to end their conversation and still seething over that woman. She will for sure try to deepen her claws in him now that he’s engaged. Her prey of choice was unavailable men.

Anne stretched her neck muscles as they tightened at just the thought of Victoria. Her attempts to shake the green-eyed monster were ineffective, so she turned her attention to the mystery envelope waving its secretive arms, enticing her to open it. She picked it up and walked over to her mission-style desk to locate an envelope opener. Anne took the silver blade and ran it through the glued seal. The contents trickled out and onto her desk. Colored photographs fanned out in front of her and a white note with red-hued writing stared at her.

For My Anneliese

“No!”

She gasped, feeling her hands begin to numb. Her veins were flooded with fresh fretful blood that burned her chest and pulsated into her ears as the thumping of her heart pounded deep within her. The one person in the entire universe who ever called her by her given birth name was Carter. The room was losing all focus and was quickly becoming dim. But then Carter’s face became clearer, like a luminous apparition pulling her subconscious in deeper.

CHAPTER 2

Her final memory of Carter floated around her, replaying like a syndicated sitcom.

“Please stay with me, Carter.” Anne stood in the threshold of Carter’s bedroom while he continued to pack his navy blue camping sack.

“It’s only for three nights. You worry too much.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Carter stopped what he was doing and walked over to Anne. She was so envious of his flawless olive skin and wavy russet hair that accentuated his mesmerizing sapphire eyes. He laced his arms around her delicate waist. She leaned into his firm chest. Carter’s smell was so comforting and the softness of his fleece pull-over made her want to curl up in his arms and stay there for eternity. With a gentle squeeze, she could feel his strength. Anne tried to dismiss her worry but she felt the knots in her stomach. He placed his lips on her forehead, kissing her gently, and then he gazed at her, memorizing every curve and every line on her face.

“My sweet Anneliese.” Carter’s kiss was quick but spiked with craving. “I have to go,” he whispered against her mouth in a haunting tone.

Carter closed his eyes and pushed his eyebrows together, enduring torturous agony.

Anne noticed a horrendous buzzing noise ripping through her memory. She gasped for air as her body lunged forward. Her ribs smacked into the wooden desk, she blinked rapidly, and she tried to gather her senses. Anne looked around her office and saw that her intercom light was flashing. The buzzing screamed from her phone once again.

Anne scrambled in an attempt to grasp her bearings so she could respond to Shelly without sounding like a lunatic. She reached for the button on her phone and saw that the pictures were lying on the floor next to her chair. Bending down to retrieve them, Anne tried to do a quick examination of the glossy photos. They appeared to be of Carter’s camping trip with his friends, Sam and Ryan. They were standing next to their orange tent and Carter had a paddle in his right hand. There were a few other guys in the photo but no one that she could make out.

“Who left these here?” Anne whispered still thumbing through the photos.

There was a soft knock at the door. Quickly she hid the photos under a stack of papers on her desk. Anne composed herself and opened the door to a troubled Shelly.

“Dr. Jamison, are you all right?”

Shelly could obviously see that she was discombobulated. The color had been drained from Anne’s face the second she had seen her name written on that stiff piece of paper.

“Is Casey busy?” Anne mustered.

The creases in Shelly’s face became more noticeable; her