Dangerous Relations (27 page)

"Mr. Waterstone?"

"Ms. Wesley is welcome to stay with Leonie and me as long as she likes."

"I see." The judge rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger. "In that case, I rule that Ms.
Wesley and Mr. Waterstone shall have joint custody of the child, Leonie Darling, until final
determination. To be decided after I meet with the child and review the findings of the
psychological examination."

At which time you'll decide in favor of Brett.
He'd proven his devotion over a
period of time, while she had little in her corner except blood ties and Suziette's wishes.
And the judge had made it clear that he was against her moving Leonie from
Thornedale.

"How soon can we expect a decision, Your Honor?" Lydia said.

The judge pushed out his lips, and moved them from side to side. "Mr. Waterstone has been
more than patient, but, to avoid further complications, I still would like to try to find the child's
biological father. Let's say, five more months, which will make it a year since you've begun adoption
proceedings."

Brett groaned.

Lydia leaped to her feet.

"But Your Honor, the court has allowed a good deal of time for this discovery and hasn't
produced one clue, not one piece of evidence toward this finding."

Bad move,
Ardin thought. Clearly, Brett's lawyer had led him to expect a
speedy decision.

"We've learned something since Mrs. Waterstone's death," Judge Dawson said. "Her bank
statements indicate a large deposit of cash was made each month, ever since the child was born.
Untraceable, yes, but the regularity shows concern."

His face took on a stern expression. "We can't rush a decision. Not when the child's mother
was murdered."

The judge's voice softened as he directed his words to Brett. "I am sorry, Mr. Waterstone.
We'll wait the five months. But should we find the biological father during that time and he agrees
to sign the document waiving all claims and rights to the child, you have my word we'll settle this
immediately."

"By the way, Ms. Wesley, do you know the man's identity?"

Ardin shook her head. "I've my suspicions but no proof."

"Well, see if you can find proof." The judge stood, ending the session. "Good day and good
luck."

* * * *

Brett drove home in a deep funk. How was he was supposed to get through five more
months of living on a high wire, not knowing if Leonie would be torn from his life? And work-wise,
he was at loose ends. The strip mall was finished and nothing loomed in the future. He hadn't
realized how much he'd been looking forward to the condo job until the deal fell apart. Of course he
could take over any of the three projects going on in Florida. But he didn't want to go to Florida. He
wanted to stay here in Thornedale with Leonie. And with Ardin.

He stopped short at a red light and glanced over. She looked as miserable as he felt. She sat
hunched up against the door, her hands clasped white-knuckled in her lap.

What the hell had she expected this morning? A picnic? They were competitors. Both after
the same prize. She must have had her share of scrapping and fighting as a lawyer. And if she felt
she needed someone to represent her, she should have hired her own attorney.

"I think it would be best if I moved out of your house."

Her words had the icy shock of a snowball sliding down the back of his shirt. All he could
do was gape at her.

"I'll find a room or a motel nearby."

"For five months?"

Her flinch made him long to pull her close. At the same time he wondered how they could
live in the same house for so long without...without--

"I mean, Leonie would be disappointed," he said quickly. "She'd miss you."
And so
would I.
Then he remembered. "Besides, you have to stay. The judge gave us temporary
joint custody based on that condition."

He was forced to pay full attention to the left turn coming up and could not watch
her face when he added, "
I'd
feel better if you stayed."

She didn't answer.

He was suddenly aware of how his words had sounded. Like he wanted to jump her bones,
when he didn't mean that at all.

"What I mean is, the murderer's out there. You'd be safer if you stayed with me. With
Leonie."

"He's never tried to hurt Leonie."

"No, he hasn't," Brett agreed.

Her nod was almost imperceptible. "All right. I'll stay. I don't mean to be difficult."

"I know."

His hand found hers, and they remained clasped for a moment.
If only she weren't
so prickly. If only she didn't let her past overwhelm her present and future.
To stop the direction
his thoughts were taking, he patted her hand. "The mall's finished and I'm a free man with
time to do some investigating. Care to join me?"

Ardin faced him, finally. "Absolutely."

* * * *

The answering phone's red light was flashing when they walked into the family room.
When Brett hit the playback button, they heard Rabe's voice asking them to please call him.

Maybe Rabe had news about the murderer, Ardin thought while Brett was dialing. Or about
the phone number they'd found in Suziette's raincoat. Anything would help lift the sense of despair
she'd been feeling since they left the courthouse.

"Marshall Crewe? Are you sure?"

She jerked her head up and caught the look of disbelief on Brett's face. "Sure, I'll tell her.
Thanks, Detective Rabe."

"The number we found in Suziette's raincoat is Marshall Crewe's cell number."

"But I don't understand. He and Suziette had no ties." She gasped. "Don't tell me they were
lovers."

Brett burst out laughing. "Somehow I don't think so. Rabe's already questioned him. He
swears up and down he only knew Suziette because she worked in Frank's office."

She bit her lip as she mulled this over. "Marshall Crewe's so dirty, it's hard to know when
he's telling the truth."

The phone rang.

"Hi, Bill. What!" Brett rolled his eyes at Ardin as he switched on the speaker so she could
take part in the conversation.

"The condo deal's going through." Bill's outrage filled the room. "Can you believe it? Frank's
got enough backers without us to buy the land and start covering construction costs."

Ardin said, "So that's what he was gloating about."

Brett whistled. "How did he manage everything, and in no time?"

"My guess is Crewe lowered his price considerably."

"But he can't touch that property! Remember, I served him a paper rescinding his power of
attorney," Ardin said.

"Renata's in the ICU, Ardin, and they don't expect her to make it. I'm assuming Crewe went
over there and got her to sign the necessary papers."

"But what about the bird sanctuary?"

"That business was never completed." Bill gave a sigh of disappointment. "Renata was
always coming up with new ideas."

"Maybe, but we visited her the other day. I know her heart was set on the bird sanctuary."
An ugly thought occurred to Ardin, upsetting her even more. "Unless Crewe made Renata believe
the papers she signed were for the bird sanctuary, but were really for the condo deal."

"Anything's possible, Ardin," Bill said. "There's nothing you can do, unless she pulls
through. According to her doctors, there isn't much chance of that."

Ardin slumped in her seat, too upset to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. When
Brett hung up, she said, "Renata's dying. Why is everyone dying?"

She walked into his outstretched arms and instantly was comforted by his warm, virile
body. He stroked her hair and her neck, making her forget the many deaths, obliterating their
conflict over Leonie. She was with the man she loved, and she knew he loved her. She felt a
quickening in her center as she lifted her face to his waiting lips.

Their kiss grew deeper and more urgent. She welcomed his probing tongue and pressed
closer into his embrace. Her breasts crushed against his rib cage. The pressure of his throbbing
erection drove her into a frenzy of excitement.

They climbed the stairs to his bedroom, where they quickly shed their clothes. Brett lay her
down gently on the king-sized bed. Almost reverently, he ran his hands along her body.

"You are so beautiful, so perfect." He lowered his head to suckle her breast.

Ardin moaned, and drew him closer. He moved his mouth to her other breast as his fingers
went deep inside her. Then he kissed her lips. "I'm glad you're not leaving. I want you to stay."

His words intensified the delicious sensations enveloping her body in ever-increasing
spirals of pleasure. When he spread her thighs apart, she reached for his rigid shaft and guided it
into place.

He stretched along the length of her, and for a moment they remained still, their gazes
locked in wonder. Then he began thrusting, fierce and primal.

Later they lay side by side beneath the quilt, fingers entwined. Brett leaned over to kiss her
cheek. "I was afraid this would never happen again."

"And I was afraid it would." Suddenly anxious, Ardin sat up, ready to bolt. The heady glow
of intimacy would fade and leave her despondent, make her future life without him more difficult to
bear.

He reached out and caught her around the waist. "Hey, where are you going?"

"To get dressed."

"Not yet."

"Yes, now."

He released her. What was wrong with her, jumping from one emotion to the other? Acting
like a teenager. Not knowing what she wanted.

"Okay." She yielded to the glowing feeling and snuggled into his waiting embrace. "But just
for a few minutes. Leonie will be home soon."

Brett glanced at the clock. "Not for hours." He propped himself on his elbow and grinned
down at her. "Worried you've compromised your position by collaborating with the enemy?"

"No, of course not!" But her blush proved her a liar.

His hand caught her now loosened hair, and he twirled it around his fingers. "Would it help
if I told you I care for you?"

"That would be nice to hear," she admitted.

He pressed his lips against the pulsing vein in her neck. "I do. Very much."

Part of her longed to wrap her arms and her legs around him and start their loving game
again. But that would only postpone the pain.

The sane, sensible part sent her inching off the bed and reaching for her panties. He
claimed he cared for her, but Ardin knew it wouldn't last. Love never lasted.

Not that Brett had said he loved her.

"Have I rendered the counselor speechless," he said, sounding amused, "or do Manhattan
attorneys regularly set aside time for sex in the afternoon? Kind of like a fast game of
paddleball."

"Oh, right. Sure. That's really what we have time for."

"Well, then--"

"Well, then what?" Ardin pulled on her skirt. It felt funny, putting her suit back on, but that
was what she'd been wearing.

He slid over to her side of the bed and pressed his naked torso into her back, and rubbed
his chin along her shoulder. "Aren't you going to tell me how much you care for me?"

She shivered with pleasure. "I do care for you," she whispered. "Which is why I have to get
the hell out of here."

At that, he doubled up with laughter, and let her leave the room.

An idea occurred to Ardin as she showered. She changed into jeans and a shirt and
traipsed downstairs, eager to share it with Brett. Her heart did flip-flops at the sight of him.
Shoeless, shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans, he was wolfing down a Dagwood-size
sandwich.

He looked abashed when he caught her staring. "I got ravenous."

"I'm starved, too," she said.

He held out his enormous sandwich. "Want some?"

"Sure."

He broke off half and gave it to her. She bit into it, and smiled as she chewed. "Terrific!" She
took another bite.

"It's the provolone and Grey Poupon mustard. You must use Grey Poupon, nothing
else."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Here." He handed her a full glass. "It's iced tea. First pitcher of the season."

Ardin sipped.
I could do this forever: share snacks, make love, whatever.
Then she
remembered why she'd come looking for him.

"I had an idea just now." She spoke quickly, in case he got the wrong impression it had
anything to do with them. "How we might go about finding out if Corey is Leonie's biological
father."

"Oh?"

The warmth of his gaze as he waited for her to explain made her want to nibble his bottom
lip, but she kept her distance.

"Blood types. I know it's not definitive like blood tests and we can't test Corey, but I know
what his type is, and what Suziette's was, too. All I'm missing is Leonie's."

"That's easy enough." Brett stood up. "I'm sure it's somewhere in her medical records.
They're in a file in the basement."

It took him five minutes to find it. "Here it is, AB positive."

"AB positive!" She could barely contain her excitement. "It's a match! Corey's type A and
Suziette was B positive. As and Bs produce ABs." She stopped, noting his frown. "What's
wrong?"

"Come on, Ardin. That's no proof. After all, there are only four blood types: A, B, O, and
AB."

"Yes, but you're forgetting the RH factor! Less than 10 percent of the population is B
positive; less than 5 percent AB positive!"

"What are you, a walking encyclopedia?"

"I took an undergraduate course in genetics and I tend to remember figures and odd facts,
so the percentages stuck."

"I'm impressed."

"By me or my findings?"

"Both." He held out his arms, but she dodged his embrace.

"Think you're up to asking Corey a few questions?" She heard the challenge in her voice
and wondered whom it was for.

"Absolutely." He glanced up at the clock. "I should be able to catch him now at his
showroom."

She reached for his arm as he strode past. "Brett." He stopped. "I'm going with you."