Deceived: A Case of Mistaken Identity

By Valerie Banfield

He’s everything she ever wanted; she’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.

But when her masquerade unravels, is she willing to pay the price of her deception?

When Diane Cooper, invites her best friend, Gina Brandt, to her Venezuelan wedding, little does Gina know that her maid of honor duties include duping the groom. Diane’s timing couldn’t be worse.

Gina celebrates the close of a miserable chapter in her life and the onset of what promises to be a better narrative, but in the midst of Diane’s sham, Gina struggles to safeguard her integrity and newfound faith.

When a chunk of Diane’s veneer crumbles, she attempts to cover her dishonest steps and unwittingly exposes a series of betrayals and deceit, perpetrated decades earlier by a ruthless pretender. With his misdeeds exposed, will blackmail sooth the vindictive deceiver’s hunger, or will he resort to something more ominous and deadly to silence his accusers?

Approximate length: 328 pages

• Language: English
• Publisher: Valerie Banfield
• Release date: Apr 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524292454

Book preview

Chapter One

Bienvenida

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Gina Brandt wiped the sweat from the outside of her plastic cup, now empty of a meager serving of bottled water, and patted the napkin against her damp forehead. When her stomach rose in tandem with the downward lurch of the airplane, she gripped the arm of the seat, inhaled deeply, and held her breath. The clear blue expanse beyond the tiny window suggested foul weather was not the cause of the bumpy ride. She rid her lungs of pent up air with a slow, deliberate exhale.

The promise of an uneventful flight grew more fleeting when the pilot cut the air conditioning, leaving the cabin muggy and rendering the passengers sweaty, their moods disagreeable. The attendants at the airport from which the twin-prop aircraft departed thirty minutes ago, were meticulous in measuring the combined weight of the checked baggage. Judging from the angry growl of the overtaxed engines, passengers well versed in Venezuelan travel rules likely weighed down their carry-on luggage to achieve their personal packing goals. Just as Gina had done.

Another barrel roll threatened to undo Gina’s breakfast, and forced her shoulder into the hard window casing. The edges of her tight lips fell into a predictable frown. She would be the first to concede that she hadn’t earned the lines around her mouth with a perpetual smile. Not even.

The face of the well-dressed businessman in the adjacent seat took an ashen hue as he choked on his drink and swiped splashed cola from his tie and shirt pocket. The woman across the aisle bowed her head and gave the sign of the cross while the baby, asleep in her arms, didn’t flinch.

The aircraft lurched again, this time descending what Gina estimated was at least a thousand feet, inducing cries and whimpers throughout the small compartment. Gina closed her eyes and sucked in her cheeks, and when another jostling forced her teeth together, she tasted blood and winced.

The businessman patted her arm. ¿Le duele? ¿Le ayudo?

The mocha brown eyes and absurdly long black eyelashes of Gina’s seatmate all but toppled her composure. No wonder Diane, her best friend, planned to walk the aisle again, this time with a handsome South American. The small palpitations in Gina’s chest had nothing to do with the airplane’s descent and everything to do with the man’s chiseled chin, and white teeth peering from sensuous, full lips. Indeed, every adult male sitting within the confines of the cabin owned looks that sent shivers up her spine.

Gina choked back the unwelcome flutter of days gone by and recognized that the man waited for her response.

Am I hurt? Well, her hurts were deeper than any superficial injury inflicted by her jaw biting; however, that was more information than the man intended to gather. Could he help her? What a loaded question. Her hazel eyes lingered on his intent gaze before she answered, Estoy bien, gracias.

He looked away, but only after giving her a knowing inspection. When he twisted his heavy wedding band around his finger and tugged at his tight shirt collar, Gina pulled her lips together, lowered her chin, and hid her amusement behind a veil of blonde-streaked hair.

Yeah, those were days gone by, but even though she didn’t participate in the game any longer, she still enjoyed setting out the bait every now and then. Massaged her ego, instead of her person. Goody-two-shoes Gina wasn’t as much fun as her previous persona, but after Thad, she’d had enough. He was one sick man, and when she discovered she was better off without him, she determined she didn’t need another one.

The pilot seemed to get a handle on the proper altitude for the heavily laden airliner, and managed to quash further passenger panic for the remainder of the flight. During the descent, the baby wailed in protest of the air pressure assaulting her tiny eardrums, and by the time the pilot rolled the tired relic of an aircraft to the gate and cut its engines, the outside temperature rendered the cabin air stifling.

Gina tossed back a couple of ibuprofen tablets, sans water or, as they would say in Venezuela, sin agua, and choked them down. When the attendant opened the door and permitted the weary travelers to alight, Señor Businessman extended his hand to Gina and helped her out of her seat. When she ignored him on the tarmac, grabbed her suitcase, and turned to go into the terminal, he stepped in front of her.

¿Le ayudo?

Did it look like she needed help? Playtime was over. Gina just wanted to find Diane among the crowd gathered in the terminal, and be done with a long travel day.

Gracias, pero, no.

When he didn’t move out of her way, Gina muttered, Enough, already.

You’re American? The man straightened his form and blinked.

Gina returned his perplexed expression with a scowl. Yeah. So?

Me, too.

Now it was Gina’s turn to balk. Not that it mattered. Oh. Well, I don’t need help. I have a friend waiting. Enjoy your stay in Merida.

Gina dodged toward the right, but he dodged with her.

Wait, he said. I’m here on business, but have a lot of free time. Would you like to get together?

I don’t have free time while I’m here, and I’m not interested in entertaining someone’s husband. Please, move out of my way.

This time, he stood with his mouth hanging open and let her pass. Once she reached the door to the terminal, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him walking across the asphalt, his face toward the ground and a cell phone grasped next to his ear.

Gina! The bride-to-be waved from behind a metal gate. In her hand she held a large bouquet of white and yellow flowers, and a solitary yellow flower rested above one of her ears. Diane looked gorgeous, ravishing, happy. Her long dark hair glistened against a dark tan. A pale blue sundress hugged her shapely form and offset her espresso brown eyes. Gina waved back and joined the throngs as they funneled through the tiny baggage claim area.

Gina wrapped Diane in a ferocious hug, stepped back, and placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders. You look fantastic. I need whatever diet and exercise routine you’ve discovered. ‘Wow’ is not an apt response.

Diane’s pink lips opened into a broad grin. Glad you noticed. She leaned in and added, Little nip here, little tuck there. Quite affordable down here, you know?

Gina blinked. You? You went under the knife for that body?

Shh. Don’t give me away, and please don’t tell David. I had the work done in Caracas. He knows nothing. When Gina gaped, Diane winked at the implied judgment. I only had a teensy bit of assistance in that department. She spun around. But, it’s good. Yes?

Quite good. How could Gina argue the obvious? If she were honest with herself, she might admit to harboring a hint of jealously—which was nothing new when Diane Cooper was involved.

I am so excited to see you. Diane handed the flowers to Gina and grabbed the handle to the suitcase. Trade me.

No, I’ve got it.

Nonsense. You’re the weary traveler. You get the flowers. David couldn’t find a parking spot, so he’s circling the airport and will pick us up on his next revolution.

Gina loved the way Diane pronounced David, with the v spoken as a b and the accent on the second syllable. It was so ... Spanish. And the air outside the little airplane? It wrapped around Gina’s long hair and lifted the ends off the back of her hot neck. If she hadn’t fallen in love with Venezuela already, the sight of the man who lifted the trunk of the car and introduced himself as the betrothed, would have cinched the verdict.

Gina slid into the back of the car as Diane dropped into the passenger seat. Before David closed the trunk, Diane stuck her head between the two front seats. Remember, no girlfriend stories, no nip and tuck revelations. Mum’s the word.

You were quite explicit about the rules. I’ll proceed with caution. Gina watched her friend’s furrowed brow relax as she turned around. The soft aura Diane etched on her face for David, erased any trace of her worry lines.

Just, exactly, how careful would Gina have to be? As she reflected on the countless girlfriend escapades she’d have to bury, Gina watched as the vehicle in which Señor Businessman deposited himself found its place in the traffic alongside David’s car.

Gina couldn’t tell whether the stranger directed his leer to her or Diane, but when the businessman mouthed something to his audience, Gina suspected she had nothing to do with the exchange.

~

It seemed as if David drove in elongated, looping whirls. Traffic was anything but rushed, and the endless series of starts and stops gave way to remarkable scenes of mountain passes dotted with lush green vegetation and an endless array of colorful blooms. Vendors stationed their wares in nooks and crannies along the route, their vibrant paintings, cloths, and apparel competing with natural wonders. If not for the exhaust fumes weighing down the air, Gina might have considered herself a discoverer of some lost paradise.

As David pushed his small sedan upward, leaving the valley of Merida behind, the temperature dropped and a light breeze flirted with the passengers as it passed in and out of the car windows. After almost an hour in the car, a faded sign announced their arrival at the small town of Tabay. A mile or so beyond the populated area, David pulled into a long, narrow road and parked the car in front of a lavish hacienda, quite dissimilar to the residences they passed en route.

David walked around the car and opened both passenger doors. Bienvenida. Welcome.

As Gina stretched her leg muscles, she smoothed her wrinkled black slacks and pulled her hair away from the collar of her white cotton blouse. At the same time, she examined the paved courtyard that rested behind a sturdy black iron fence. A gurgling fountain and enormous planters overflowing with flowers and ferns greeted her. She glanced at Diane and whispered, Are you kidding me?

Diane responded with a mischievous, You like?

This is beautiful. Whose home is this? Gina looked from Diane to David.

David hefted the suitcase out of the trunk, rolled it around the car, and slipped his arm around Gina’s elbow.

For now, mi casa belongs to you and Diane. It will belong to you, alone, after the wedding and until Diane and I return from our honeymoon.

You’re joking. Gina swallowed at the prospect. This place reeked of wealth. She’d envisioned a ten-by-ten room with no closet and no warm water—something more akin to her own lifestyle, and Diane’s, too.

I will give you my thirty-second narrative. David’s playful tone outplayed his attempt at solemnity. The Ruiz family has owned this property for generations. My ancestors did well in the sugar cane and coffee trades, but when the Pico Bolivar cable car turned the area into a tourist destination, farming fell by the wayside. Like my father, I am a professor at the university in Merida.

That’s quite a commute. What do you teach?

Diane stole David’s free arm and deftly inched him away from Gina. David is a member of the Faculty of Economics. He’s a popular instructor, as well as a capable investor. Diane winked at Gina, as if the action excused her blatant gesture meant to identify her as the queen of David’s casa and his tenured companion.

Gina hesitated when David grasped her around the elbow again. As he led both women through the stone entrance and into another lavish outdoor setting, Diane leaned into him and wrapped her arm around his, as stealthily and securely as a hungry boa constrictor.

Diane’s territorial claims on David just elevated the red flag—already hoisted by the nipping and tucking announcement and the plea for secrecy—another ten feet. As much as David made Gina feel comfortable and welcome, Diane’s prickly aura put her on high alert, and this was unfamiliar territory.

Diane directed Gina to a wicker chair with a plump floral cushion and sat next to David on a matching loveseat. She pulled her bare feet under her and nestled close to her fiancé. Nearly invisible domestics relocated Gina’s suitcase to her guestroom and delivered iced drinks and pastries to the patio.

David picked up his tall glass, but turned toward Gina before taking a drink. The ice and beverages prepared here are made with bottled water. When you are in other places, be certain when you order drinks to specify, no heilo—no ice. We don’t want you to become ill during your stay.

The fruit juice slid down Gina’s throat. This is heavenly. Thank you. May I ask for clarification on the accommodations?

You may, David responded.

If Diane and I are staying here, are you camping out somewhere else?

Camping out? David chuckled. A cute choice of words. I think it appropriate that I stay at my family’s casa de campo, which is what I believe you would call a cottage.

Oh. Gina glanced at Diane, who gave her a tread carefully look.

Señoritas, I have an appointment and must leave you now. I look forward to a leisurely dinner this evening. Gina, please make yourself at home. If you need anything, please ask Rosa. You will generally find her in the kitchen.

Before he stood, he gave Diane a soft kiss on her lips. He reached for Gina’s empty hand and placed a kiss just below her wrist. The temperature in the patio soared at least ten degrees, as did the red hue rising around Diane’s neck. Gina put her glass to her lips but didn’t dare take a sip for fear of choking.

Once the sound of the car’s motor fell beyond their hearing, Diane pulled her feet out from under her, and tapped her toes nervously on the tiled floor. We need to talk.

Chapter Two

Perception is Everything

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What’s with the puppy dog eyes and the pout? And, what’s to talk about? Your David, Gina stated, giving emphasis to her Spanish rendition of the name, is handsome, charming, attentive, well-to-do, and smart. I should ask if he has a twin, or maybe a clone-like cousin. I’m happy for you.

He’s perfect. I know.

Then, why the worried face?

Because, my recently converted friend, I need your help concealing a bit of—shall we say—an exaggeration I may have presented to my charming man.

What did you do? Forget to mention the husbands you abandoned in America? Gina started to laugh, but Diane’s glare sliced through the attempted humor.

In addition to having the most beautiful character traits, David has an intense spiritual side. He’s conservative and deeply religious.

Oh? Gina gulped her fruit drink and gasped for air as a piece of ice lodged in her windpipe. She warded off Diane’s concerned look with a wave of her hand, but at the same time, Gina’s brain warned of a different type of danger. Watch your words and your step. Sorry. You were saying?

When Diane pushed a lock of hair away from her face, the facets on her enormous diamond solitaire blinked in the sunlight. As she examined the ring, something akin to a wistful expression arose and tussled with her lingering pout. He came to terms with my divorce history when he learned I didn’t become a Christian until after the marriages ended. I didn’t know divorce was wrong, you see.

You told him that?

No, of course not. He came to the conclusion himself. I need you, my dear best friend, to confirm David’s impression of my devout religious position.

Gina pursed her lips and squinted her eyes as she said, Uh huh. Okay.

You’ll do this for me? Diane asked.

Sure, but first you need to tell me when you got religion.

"No, you need to tell me about your conversion. I might need to borrow some of your story. Diane pulled her lips into a thin line. I mean, your conversion was real. Right?"

Of course. Isn’t it apparent? Gina frowned. I’ve turned my life around. Completely.

So you say. Judging from your past escapades, I have to wonder, and after watching your exchange with the man at the airport today, you’ll have to forgive me for holding doubts. Diane folded her arms and crossed her legs. Why don’t you tell me all about it? Hmm?

Gina ignored the comment about the businessman and stared. Before Diane moved to South America, she was Gina’s best friend. But, today? Who was this charade in the blue dress, this woman who wanted help, but mocked the very spiritual realm she sought to display?

One of the housekeeping staff came into the patio, replenished the empty glasses and pitcher, and stepped back into the house. Gina pressed the cold glass against her forehead and put the beverage back on the table without taking a drink.

About a year ago my life was in shambles. Thad created the biggest mess of my life, and it was no little occasion when I got him to move out of the condo. My job was in jeopardy when two departments merged, and I owed money up to my ears. I found myself in a very dark place.

Diane leaned forward, wearing the concerned face Gina knew so well. How dark?

Dark enough that one night I went home from work, drank half a bottle of wine, and gathered all the prescription medicine I could find in the house.

Diane’s eyes widened. You? Miss nothing-gets-to-me Gina? You have a heart of steel.

The steel was merely a coating. Thad pierced it. Straight through.

Why didn’t you tell me? Diane asked.

What? You wanted me to post it on social media? I didn’t dare put it in writing, and I couldn’t afford to call you.

I’m sorry I wasn’t around for you.

After I decided I had enough drugs to stop a horse’s heart, I flushed every last capsule and tablet. When I got over my hangover the next afternoon, I realized how close I’d come to walking away, not just from my troubles, but from the rest of my life.

Diane covered her mouth with her fingertips and shook her head back and forth. Gina, I’m sorry. She dropped her hand and sat up straight. Something must have happened for you to make a transformation, though. Is this where your conversion comes into play?

As a matter of fact, it is. I took a sick day after the drinking binge—not that I had a choice—and wandered through the cable television channels, hoping to find some entertainment to numb my brain. I went to get the mail while commercials aired, and pulled out seven notices for delinquent credit card bills. The pile included a notice from my mortgage company indicating they replaced my lapsed insurance policy with one of their own choosing, and added the cost of said policy to my past-due mortgage balance. Another piece of communication suggested someone planned to repo my car unless I remitted a few missed payments.

Ugh. How did all of that happen? Diane asked. No, I don’t mean for you to tell me. I just don’t know what to say.

The last thing in my mailbox was a greeting card from my father.

Your dad? What was the occasion?

It was the occasion of my fortieth birthday. He said my birthday made him feel old, and he figured I needed some good wishes to counter the inevitable depression my milestone would deliver. Happy birthday, Gina scoffed.

I guess I’m not surprised.

After I tossed my mail onto the coffee table and threw myself on the sofa, I turned the volume up on my television so I wouldn’t hear the screams running through my head. The speaker talked about financial freedom, starting over, and having faith in a God who wanted me to prosper.

What? Diane sat back in her seat.

He did. He read verses from the Bible. What he said made so much sense. If only I honored God with everything He blessed me with, He’d take care of me in return.

You sure the preacher wasn’t talking about your time, volunteering, community service, and stuff like that? Diane frowned.

I’m absolutely certain his comments were directed at finances. In fact, he read more promises out of his Bible and explained how the promises depended upon the degree of a person’s faith. The more people were willing to trust their money to God, the more He would reward them.

Diane’s forehead compressed into a mass of fine lines. What did you give him?

Give who?

The television preacher.

I didn’t give him anything, Gina said. She raised her shoulders in something of a defensive posture. The few people who heard her story reacted with unwarranted judgments and apparent misunderstanding. Diane wore an identical face of disbelief. Great.

You didn’t send him any money, did you? Diane asked.

No. I made a contribution to his ministry.

Same thing.

No, it isn’t. The ministry supports a variety of programs and charities.

How do you know it doesn’t go into the deep pockets of the preacher, or if it funds an excessive lifestyle for him?

This man’s influence is international and he is nothing without his reputation. He wouldn’t earn the respect and trust of so many people if his methods were underhanded. Don’t make such ugly assumptions.

This was the most honest, wise decision Gina had made in her entire life. Why didn’t people get it? Look at me. I’m a different person. Because of that preacher. Her transformation was genuine. Didn’t Diane see?

Diane started to say something, but closed her lips and sat back in the loveseat. She seemed to be examining Gina, and after several long minutes, Diane wet her lips and leaned forward. In a quiet voice, she said, Okay. I believe you. I do. You’ve never looked so sincere.

Thank you, Gina said. She tipped her chin upward and directed her serious eyes on Diane. Your turn. Tell me about your conversion.

Diane pinched her lips together and pulled the corners into a frown. David wouldn’t have given me a second glance if he thought we didn’t share the same set of beliefs. When we started dating, I let him do all the talking when religion was the topic of conversation. I listened, and I learned enough to respond appropriately when he sought to know my heart.

Gina frowned. You’re pretending?

I am.

What will you do when he discovers your lies?

He won’t.

You’re fooling yourself, Gina said. A sincere Christian will see through your facade.

No, he won’t.

How do you figure?

Diane drew her thin lips into a satisfied, sly arc. Because, he hasn’t.

~

Diane tugged at the neckline of her robe as she paced from one end of the walk-in closet to the other. Indecision was not in her vocabulary, and held less bearing in her selection of eveningwear; nonetheless, she pushed aside one dress after another, searching for something suitable for the pending dinner for three. Something risqué enough to keep David’s attention from wandering toward Gina; something proper enough to reflect the attire of an honorable woman. Diane’s exasperated sigh filled the small room. Maybe Gina would take a nap and sleep until morning. Dinner for two held a more pleasant promise. One could wish.

Never in a million years did Diane expect Gina to have a God encounter. Never. She and Gina were too alike: hearts of stone, unquenchable desires, impetuous personalities. When Diane extended the wedding invitation, it was with the assumption that her loyal friend would tell tall tales and distort whatever truths necessary to help Diane walk down the aisle with David.

If religion turned Gina’s heart upside down, how could Diane rely on her to deceive David? Deceive. The word imparted such a negative tone. Before her conversion, Gina would have considered the snarky term a challenge and taken the task head-on. Heretofore, if Diane was the queen of deception, Gina—on equal footing—was its empress. But, now? If Gina got religion and developed a conscience, Diane risked exposure as an unrepentant heathen. She couldn’t let that happen.

Shivers, indifferent to the warm afternoon air, tripped up Diane’s neck when David’s chuckle and a woman’s laughter rose from the patio. As she heard David imitate the resident parrot, Diane yanked an aqua dress from its hanger, grabbed a pair of floral-printed heels, and ran a brush through her hair. She wiped a layer of rose-tinted gloss over her lips and bounded down the stairs. Only when she was within view