Behind the Shadows (32 page)

But now the need to touch, to comfort, to feel again was even stronger.

She stood on tiptoes. Her arms went around his neck and her lips were eager against his. There was a sweetness about her kiss, the tentativeness of her touch, that was intoxicating.

He knew she'd been married before, but her responses seemed like an awakening. He wondered whether anyone had been gentle with her before.

His fingers ran through her hair, releasing the clasp that kept it back, and it fell around her face, the silken strands tumbling over his hand.

Bad move, Burke. She's vulnerable
. She needed a friend, not someone who had another loyalty, not someone who wanted to take that blouse off and run his hands up and down her body.

Yet he didn't stop the kiss. Instead he deepened it, his lips opening slightly. His need was strong and deep, and for a moment he allowed himself to revel in being alive again.

One of the horses whinnied, wanting attention, and he suddenly jerked away. Her hand dropped from his neck but caught his hand. “Don't go away,” she said in a low voice.

The plea cut through him like a knife.

“I won't,” he said. “But I promised to meet Kira and Payton at the hospital.”

“You're sure she—Mrs. Douglas—is my mother, aren't you?” she said hesitantly.

“Yes. I'm the one who took the cup and hair sample to the lab. I know Kira probably went about it in the wrong way, but she didn't want to spread her anguish to other women without proof.” He paused.

“
And
she was in a hurry,” Leigh added caustically.

“Yes. I probably would have done the same thing had it been my wife. Or mother.”

She absorbed that. “You really think I look like her … Katy Douglas?”

“Oh yes.”

Her gaze bored into him. Then her fingers curled around his. “I'll go with you.”

He squeezed her hand. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

His free hand touched her face. Wiped away a wayward tear that had slipped from her brimming eyes. Something shifted inside him. Maybe no one else would believe what she was doing took courage, but he knew. He knew from the struggle in her face. In those amazing eyes.

He'd tried to put himself in her position, and he couldn't do it. He honestly didn't know what he would do. Although giving a kidney held little immediate risk, any major operation carried some danger and if anything happened to the other kidney, she would be in trouble. He wanted to think he would do it, but he didn't have Leigh's history weighing him down. She wouldn't be risking just a kidney but what little sense of belonging and home she'd managed to carve for herself.

“You're a brave lady,” he said.

“I think that's the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me, though I don't think it's true.”

“Oh, it's true, Leigh Howard. And you're also … very pretty.” Damn, but he was lousy at compliments. And he was getting in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. The last thing he wanted to do was pose more problems for her and create more conflicts of interest for himself.

“Do you have another of those cubes of sugar?” he asked. A diversion of sorts. For himself.

She took one from her pocket and gave it to him. He held it out to the white mare and felt the softness of her mouth as she daintily took it from his palm.

Leigh gave him an approving glance and took his hand. “Let's go before I change my mind.”

Kira and Max waited in the visitors' room for Chris Burke. Kira was already regretting asking him to meet her there.

Max faced her. “You look tired … and damned desirable.”

“Always the diplomat. Or the attorney who wants to win.”

“Right now, I'm neither. I don't want one side to win to the detriment of the other.” He very carefully did not touch her. He wanted to. She was so obviously exhausted. And sad. Even hopeless.

But she would misconstrue whatever he did. He hadn't missed the wariness in her eyes at times. Not always. They had definitely softened when he talked to her mother.

“I understand why you love her so much,” he said.

“Do you?” she challenged.

He paused. Considered his answer, then admitted, “Maybe not. I'm not good at families. I don't understand that kind of …” He stopped.

“Have you never had a family?”

He shrugged. “The Westerfields came closest to it.”

“From what I understand it wasn't a
Brady Bunch
family.”

He smiled slightly. “No.”

“No mother or father? No brother or sister? Not even a distant cousin lurking somewhere?”

“None of the above. I lost my mother when I was nine. I spent the next few years in various foster homes, none of which were that eager to have me there. Money, yes. Me, no.”

She rested her hand on his knee. “I'm sorry. It must have been lonely.”

“Not so. There was an independence that appealed to me. No one cared whether I was at a certain place at night. I learned a number of skills on the street.”

“How did you become one of Atlanta's most eligible bachelors?”

“The PR firm I hired to promote Westerfield Industries. They didn't quite understand I wanted the corporation publicized, not me. I fired them, but I was stuck.”

“Ah, a retiring lawyer.”

She was at her cynical best. He liked that side of her. Not particularly the cynicism, but the challenge in every word. She had learned not to take everything at face value. Well, so had he.

She wanted to probe deeper. That was obvious to him. But he didn't want to go deeper.

She might understand. But she was a newspaper reporter, and his past was something he'd carefully concealed all these years. She was open. Probably the most open woman he'd ever met. She wore her emotions on her face. He didn't want to see pity there. Or horror. Or even fear.

“Are you from Atlanta?” she continued to probe.

She was in full reporter mode, and he'd learned she was a very good one.

“No.” Hopefully the answer was short enough, and curt enough, to cut off any additional questions.

His hopes were quickly dashed.

“Where, then?”

“A place that no longer exists. It's been paved over and made into industrial properties. It's not a place I like remembering.”

It was a warning. Hell, it was like hitting her over the head with a hammer. His voice had chilled in a way that usually sent people scurrying for the door.

“Okay,” she said. “I'm sorry. Questions are instinctive for me. Even if I wasn't a reporter, I would always want to know everything about everyone. I'm told it can be a very annoying trait.”

He was disarmed, and he didn't want to be disarmed. He had no question but she would try to find out more about him. Thus far, the police had only talked to him about what he knew about the shooting, which was damned little. But they would be back with more questions.

“You said you didn't think Leigh's cousins could be involved. Why?”

“Seth Westerfield has a promising career. He's the favorite for Congress. He'll probably make a good one, as politicians go. He knows nearly everyone who counts in his district, has done favors for many of them. He wouldn't do anything to risk his campaign. His father ran, and lost. Seth has something to prove.”

“He needs money to run,” Kira ventured.

“He's being supported by the national party. He's also raised a lot locally.” He hesitated, then added, “If Seth has a soft spot, it's Leigh. He wants to break the will, but he wants to do it for Leigh. If he gets something, fine, but he would never hurt her or try to blame something he did on her.”

“You say that with certainty.”

He shrugged. “He loves her. If she wasn't his cousin, I think … he would have gone after her.”

“And the other cousin?”

“David? He doesn't care anything about money. Never did. Not that he needed to. His father made a lot of money and had a great money manager. In fact, I think David gave his Westerfield inheritance to charity.”

“But maybe he knew his father was involved in some way …”

“I thought about that, but I doubt he has any of the skills needed to do what's been done these last few days. All he knows is medicine, and that's all he cares about except his family.”

“And the housekeeper?”

“Mrs. Baker?”

She nodded.

“She was with Ed forever. He trusted her completely.”

“Is there anyone else around the house?”

“Just Rick. He's Mrs. Baker's nephew. But he has no motive.”

“Did you check his references?”

“I asked one of my staff attorneys to do it. He said Rick came up clean. And he
is
Mrs. Baker's nephew.”

“Why does everyone call her Mrs. Baker? Why not by her first name?”

Her questions were defusing the tension between them. He wondered whether she was intentionally doing that.

“I don't know. Ed always called her that. It was never Alma. Always Mrs. Baker. The rest of us followed his lead. It became a habit. And she never asked us to do anything else.”

Max knew now why she was such a good reporter. She was relentless.

“Maybe the nephew thought she should get more.”

“I don't think they're that close, and I know that Mrs. Baker was more than pleased with what she received.”

“That leaves us back at square one,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

“But you did a damn good job in summarizing. Except for one thing.”

“What?”

“Me. I might have the best motive of all. I get rid of both of you, and I can do anything I want with the trust.”

“You can shoot?”

“Yes. I could also hire someone fairly capable to try to frighten you off.”

“And make love to me at the same time?”

He found a smile forming. Dammit, but she got to the heart of the matter.

“No,” he said simply.

She took his left hand in her right one. “I suspected as much.”

“Just suspected?”

“Okay, I knew as much.”

“From the beginning?”

“Now you're asking too much,” she said. “I was certainly attracted to you, but I couldn't understand why you might be attracted to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? You're pretty. Smart as hell. Gutsy. Interesting.”

“Interesting?” she echoed just as he had a few seconds earlier. She would have been insulted if anyone else had said it, but she sensed it was a rare compliment from him.

He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “I like interesting.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and she relaxed into it. She liked being pretty, smart as hell, gutsy. Even “interesting.” She liked being next to him. She liked the warmth of his body next to her. She liked talking to him and she liked his touch. Liked? Greatest understatement in the world.

He'd been so good with her mother. Katy had liked him. And her mother was a great judge of character.

Admit it
. She trusted him. She hadn't wanted to. He was too close to the Westerfields. He'd made it clear his loyalty—or duty—was first and foremost to Leigh Howard.

He had been open and honest about it. Just as she had been about her mother. So how could she complain? Although she'd skittered away several times, she realized it was more the fear of falling in love with him rather than actual distrust of him. There had been a certain ease between them almost from the beginning. An ease spiced by the sexual electricity that had been there from minute one.

She still didn't know that much about him. He'd hinted at secrets. And her natural curiosity wanted to press him, but now was not the time.

She'd just started to relax when she saw Chris and Leigh approach. Leigh's blond hair was pulled back in a long braid and she looked as elegant as ever. But her eyes were slightly red with dark rings underneath. She, too, was obviously having sleepless nights.

Kira rose and went to her. “Thank you for coming,” she said simply.

“How is she?”

“She's sleeping now, but she would want me to wake her,” Kira said.

Leigh started to turn. “Maybe later.”

“No. Please,” Kira said. “It would mean so much to her. She keeps asking about you. I showed her a photo.” She didn't know how Chris had convinced her to come, but now it was up to her to get her to stay.

Her heart was in her throat as she watched Leigh's face. She recalled everything Max had said, and her heart went out to her. “It would mean a lot to her,” she said in a ragged voice.

Leigh glanced at Chris, who nodded.

“I'll wait until she wakes,” she said.

Kira's breath evened out. A miracle. Now she needed just one more. Just one more.

32

It took every ounce of Leigh's strength to go into the hospital and up to Katy Douglas's room.

She'd seen it many times in her memories. In her dreams. The endless surgeries, the pain, the sorrow, and particularly the guilt that had never left her. She was the reason her mother and father died.

Chris took her hand, squeezed it. He didn't know the deep-seated guilt she'd felt all these years, or maybe he sensed it. But his touch gave her strength. She could do anything with him next to her.

She waited as Kira went into the room across the hall. Her heart was moving spasmodically in her chest. Why had she agreed? She'd surprised herself by doing it. But looking at the photo of Katy Douglas was like looking at herself.

In seconds, Kira was back, waving her in.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Chris asked.

“No,” she said. “But thank you.”

He nodded approvingly and she felt a new surge of confidence. She went inside and closed the door behind her.

Kira stood next to the bed. Protectively, Leigh thought. The woman in the bed had turned her head toward the door, and she broke into a smile as Leigh neared the bed. Stood there. Unsure. Beyond nervous.