The Betrayed Read Online Free PDF Page B

did she have any choice? Could she ever leave her mother alone to deal with her niece—and more to the point, could she ever leave her niece alone to deal with her mother? The decision, she realized, had already been made.
    She looked over at her mother once more, and noticed that an unusual calmness had settled over her. For just a moment, Sydney wondered if she might regret her decision.

Chapter Fou r
    J ACK STOOD NEXT TO his partner on the covered portico at the front door of the Chapin mansion. It was a towering Federal on three acres fronting Wisconsin Avenue, in the heart of Washington, D.C.’s most prestigious neighborhood. “Jesus,” Train said to him. “I always thought this was an embassy.”
    “Easy mistake,” Jack responded. “Most of the houses in this area are embassies.”
    Train took another look at his notebook to make sure they had the address. “I take it Chapin was Elizabeth Creay’s maiden name?” he asked Jack, who had worked up the preliminary background on the murdered woman.
    “Yeah,” Jack replied.
    Train looked up from the notebook, his expression prodding for more. “We get any additional info from the searches you did? Any idea what we’re dealing with on the other side of the door?”
    Cassian took out his notebook. “Lydia Chapin is the lady of the manor, as it were. She’s Elizabeth Creay’s mother. Also has another daughter who lives in California. Father and husband—”
    “She married her father?”
    Cassian made a face. “—father to Elizabeth, husband to Lydia—was none other than Aloysius Chapin—”
    “Quite a mouthful.”
    “—the well-known industrialist.”
    Train’s eyes grew wide. “You mean of Chapin Industries?”
    “The same.”
    Train let out a low whistle. “I guess that explains the house, then, doesn’t it?”
    “Yeah, I guess it does. I wasn’t able to get any real research done on the company yet—I’m planning on spending tonight doing that—but I did enough poking around to know it’s one of the biggest, most powerful conglomerates in the United States. Aloysius was the third generation, until he died five years ago of liver cancer at the age of sixty-five.”
    Train shook his head. “Damn, too young.”
    “How old are you, Sarge?” Cassian asked his partner.
    “Fuck off.”
    “Thought so. You’ve still got a few years, but you better start watching what you eat. The kind of crap you consume is likely to take its revenge.”
    Train glared at Jack. “Lots of ways to die young—food ain’t the only thing that can take revenge. You hearing me?”
    “Loud and clear.” Cassian held up his hands in surrender, but allowed a sly smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.
    “You ready?” Train growled.
    “As ever,” Jack replied, reaching out toward the door.
    z
    The doorbell startled Sydney, and she turned to look at her mother. Lydia didn’t move, though, and a moment later the doorbell rang again. It was clear that Lydia had no intention of getting up to answer the door, and Sydney rose and walked out into the foyer.
    She peered out through the expensive lace curtains that cov ered the glasswork at the sides of the ornate front door. Two men stood quietly on the other side, with a patience that unnerved her. They didn’t pace, or fidget, or shuffle their feet; they stood perfectly still, as if they were accustomed to long stretches of waiting and watching.
    She opened the door a crack, keeping the chain in place. “Yes?” she asked.
    “Good evening,” said the older one. He was a tall, barrel-chested black man who looked to be in his fifties. “We’re looking for Lydia Chapin. Is she in?”
    “Who are you?” Sydney demanded.
    “Detective Sergeant Train, miss, D.C. police.” He nodded toward the younger man, who was also tall, but thin and attractive, and looked like he couldn’t be much older than thirty. “This is my partner, Detective Cassian.” When Sydney didn’t respond, the older officer continued. “I