Fathers and Sons (Harlequin Super Romance) (7 page)

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Authors: Carolyn McSparren

BOOK: Fathers and Sons (Harlequin Super Romance)
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“We’re waiting for you,” one of the men said. He hesitated a moment, then stuck his hand out. “Sorry about your trouble, Mr. David. Jason’s a good boy. He never did this.”
The other men made affirmative noises. David felt his throat close with emotion as he took the man’s hand. “Thanks, Wylie, that means a lot.”
Wordlessly, each man stepped up and shook his hand.
David took a deep breath. “Now, come on, y’all,” he said. “What say somebody mans that forklift? Need to get this truck loaded and out of here in the next hour.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be back in an hour. That truck better be loaded and on its way to New Orleans by then or Dub’ll give us all Hail Columbia.” He sauntered away and called over his shoulder, “And after that, I got a list of chores long as my arm, so nobody disappear.”
They’d do the job. He never stood over them, and they appreciated that. He was certain they’d been talking about how Jason’s trouble might affect them, but he felt grateful for their support, all the same.
“Men are worse gossips than women ever thought of being,” David said as he climbed into the truck. Through the windshield he saw the first bales shifted onto the forklift.
“Impressive,” Kate said. “I don’t remember your exerting that sort of authority.”
“Over who? The busboy at the pizza joint down on Thirty-third? I was about as low on everybody’s totem pole in New York as there was to be.”
“What does a farmer do in November?”
“You mean when he’s not trying to find defense witnesses in a murder?” David made a right onto the road and accelerated. “Get in the last cotton if he hasn’t already. Fix everything that’s broken during the year. Repaint. Mend. Do endless paperwork on the blasted computer. Read the
Wall Street Journal
and track the stock market. Line up crop loans for next year, and research fertilizer and seeds and crop rotation. Go to seminars with other farmers—”
“Stop! Enough.” Kate laughed. “I figured you, Dub and Jason probably spent the winter in a duck blind somewhere shooting at innocent mallards.”
“That, too. And getting a deer or two for the freezer.”
“You never used to hunt.”
“Still don’t. Makes me highly suspect among the local male population. Sitting up to your armpits in ice water at four o’clock in the morning in a duck blind is not my idea of fun.”
“Does Jason enjoy hunting?”
David nodded. “His grandfather taught him. I handled the less glamorous stuff like Little League and soccer.”
“Little League? You?”
“Why not? You forget you are talking to the Hilton High School starting pitcher. Jason’s not beefy enough to play football, but he’s a hell of a center fielder and a darned good soccer player.”
“You’re proud of him, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. That’s why I can’t believe he did this. Can you see that?”
“What if he is guilty?”
“Here’s Jimmy’s garage. That’s Jimmy over there.” David pointed to the lower half of a person in coveralls protruding from under the hood of a perfectly restored early Thunderbird in fire-engine red.
“Hey, Jimmy,” David called as he stepped out of the car. He sauntered over with his hands in his pockets, the picture of the relaxed male getting ready to kibitz over cars. But Kate, who walked behind him, could see the tension in his back and shoulders, the cords that stood out in the back of his neck.
He can still act
, she thought.
I can’t allow myself to forget what a good actor he is even for a second
The young man raised up, and automatically reached for a grimy rag at his waist to wipe his hands. “Hey, Mr. Canfield.” The young man’s eyes darted warily past David to settle on Kate.
“Kate Mulholland, this is Jimmy Viccolla. He went to school with Jason. He’s also the best shade-tree mechanic in the state of Mississippi.” David grinned engagingly.
Kate watched the young man relax as an answering grin spread over his face. “Shoot, I’m not that good.”
“Keeps my old farm pickup running,” David said. “Thing is, Jimmy, Mrs. Mulholland here is Jason’s lawyer...”
Kate saw the young man stiffen and take a single step backward so that his thighs were pressed against the grillwork of the Thunderbird. She stepped forward, pasting what she hoped was an equally infectious smile on her face. “We know you want to help Jason out of this mess,” she said.
He glanced at her suspiciously. “How can I do that? I don’t know nothing about what happened.”
“Were you at the party?” David asked.
Jimmy’s eyes slid away from Kate’s face. His was an unprepossessing face with large teeth in a small mouth and close-set eyes. He wiped his hands convulsively on the cloth that hung from his belt.
“For a little while. Left early. Had to go to church with my momma on Sunday.”
Kate nodded. “Did you hear Waneath and Jason’s fight?”
He shook his head violently. “No, ma‘am. Left early, like I told you.” Suddenly he turned to David. “Jason wouldn’t a’ hurt Waneath like that, though Lord knows somebody was bound to.”
Kate stiffened. “Why would anybody hurt her?” she practically whispered.
Jimmy’s shoulders hunched away as though she’d struck out at him. “I shouldn’t a’ said nothing.”
“Please,” Kate said. “I need to know as much as I can if I’m going to help Jason.”
“Listen, ma’am,” Jimmy said urgently. “Mr. Talley, Waneath’s daddy, has the biggest—heck, the only—car dealership in Athena. If he finds out I was talking to you, I’ll never get a lick of business out of him again, and I do all his regular maintenance and service and stuff.”
“Surely he wants to find out the truth.”
“He thinks he
knows
the truth. He thinks Waneath was some kind of pure little angel. Well, let me tell you, she was anything but an angel. I wouldn’t hardly blame Jason none if he hauled off and smacked her one.”
“He didn’t,” David said. “He’d never hit a woman.”
“All I’m saying is that if he did, he probably got provoked or something. Didn’t mean to hurt her, got scared and bugged out.”
“Is that what people are saying?” David asked, and Kate heard the menace in his tone.
She stepped in. “Actually, I really wanted to ask you about something else. Did you do much skiing with Jason last summer on the lake?”
Jimmy looked confused. “Nearly every weekend, why?” “Do you remember one time in August when the outboard went out?”
“Sure do. Turned out we’d wrapped one of the towlines around the propeller,” Jimmy shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “I mean that was a flat-out mess. Couldn’t get the motor off, and finally Jason had to take his scuba gear and go down underwater and fix it there.”
Kate sighed. “Were you with him when he was trying to get the motor off?”
“I tried to help.”
“What was he using to break the motor mount loose?”
“Shoot, the darned fool was trying to use a tire iron.” Jimmy laughed. “Darned if he didn’t drop it overboard right into three feet of Mississippi mud at the bottom of the lake.” He shook his head. “Never did find it.”
Kate took a deep breath. “Would you be willing to testify to that in court?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Like I said, about Mr. Talley...”
“I understand, but if the case goes to trial, we need you to tell the truth.”
“Oh, shoot, Jason’s my friend. And I never did lie real good.” He grinned and shrugged.
“Thank you, Mr. Viccolla.” She extended her hand, and after another swipe with his towel, Jimmy took it gingerly.
“Now, about the party,” David began, but Kate laid a hand on his arm and shook her head.
He looked confused, but followed her to his car anyway. As they drove away, he turned to Kate and asked, “Why didn’t you ask him some more about the party?”
“We got one piece of corroborating evidence that Jason did not have a tire iron—at least he didn’t in August. It’s a teeny piece, because he probably could have snitched one from one of your other cars, but unless the prosecution can produce evidence that he bought or borrowed one, that’s a small point in his favor. That’s enough for one witness, certainly one who obviously believes that Jason was justified in ‘smacking Waneath’ and is scared to death of her father.”
“Yeah. Okay.” David obviously didn’t agree, but didn’t intend to contest the issue further at this point.
Kate made up her mind immediately. “Look, I’ve got to rent another car. This won’t work. Nobody’s going to open up to me with you tagging along.”
“Nobody’s going to open up to a stranger either. I want to know what people are saying.”
“There is a certain cachet attached to talking to a lady lawyer. With you standing guard behind me, everybody’s going to want to spare your feelings.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She closed her eyes. “Pull over a minute and shut off the engine,” she said.
He complied and swiveled in his seat to look at her.
“Are you worried he’s guilty?” she asked.
“Hell, no!”
She raised her eyebrows and glared at him until he moved restively, then she nodded. “But you’re not as positive he’s innocent as you’ve been trying to convince me, are you? You want to get him off because he’s your son, but you also believe in justice. You always did, at least when I knew you.”
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. “I still can’t lie to you, can I?”
“You practically made a career out of lying to me, and I never tumbled to it, not once.” She turned to look out over the muddy fields. “Maybe I’m smarter than I used to be, or a damn sight more cynical.”
“I tried never to lie to you.” He reached across to touch her shoulder. She flinched.
When she turned to him, she knew her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. She sniffed and willed them not to spill over. “Just left out a few things, right? Listen, David. I don’t represent clients I don’t believe in. I did when I first got started, but not anymore. That’s one of the perks of being a senior partner in a law firm. And it’s why I’m sticking to civil law these days. Because the cops are right most of the time. They arrest people because they’re guilty and deserve whatever punishment they get. Jason knows more than he’s telling, but I don’t think he killed Waneath. I don’t give a damn what you believe. What matters is what a jury believes. So you can knock off the act, Daddy dear, and drive me somewhere I can rent a car.”
CHAPTER SIX
 
“N
OBODY IN ATHENA rents cars,” David told Kate as he pulled back onto the road. “I think Big Bill Talley has a couple of loaners for people to use while they’re getting theirs worked on at his dealership, but he sure as hell won’t let you have one.”
“Hardly.”
“So,” David continued, “you take this car. I told you Jimmy keeps my farm truck running like a top. It’s an antique, but it gets me where I need to go.”
“I’d rather have a car not quite so recognizable as this,” Kate said. “But it’s better than nothing.”
“I would still prefer to drive you around, even if I stay in the background. I don’t want you running into Waneath’s mother again. There could be others just as angry. You have no idea about life in a small town, Kate. Feelings run deep.”
“I beg your pardon?” Kate said. “You’re the city boy, in case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Greensboro-High-Point-North-Carolina. The biggest thing in my town was the college, and it only had fifteen hundred students.”
“College towns are different. Not quite so insular.”
“Equally inbred however, and with secrets within secrets within secrets. Secrets so pervasive that everybody assumes everybody else knows them. That’s the kind of thing I have to find out if I’m going to get Jason out of this.”
“You really believe Jason’s innocent?”
She shook her head. “I believe he’s not guilty of murder. That’s not quite the same thing. I don’t think he ever expected to be arrested.” She shrugged. “Of course, part of that is his grandfather. Dub is convinced this is all some big joke that’ll go away if he simply ignores it.”
“That’s the way Dub always treats real problems. He never believed Melba was as sick as she was, even though his wife died young from the same heart problem. He thinks he can bull his way through life charming everybody in sight and getting his own way. Most of the time it works.”
“With you, too?”
“Until lately we’ve never had a cross word, but I guess that was because we pretty much agreed on the way the farm was supposed to run.”
“No longer?”
David shook his head. “I’ve got some ideas on ways to increase efficiency and cut cost—new herbicides that are environmentally friendly, no-till planting. Even some new hybrids. Dub’s a businessman, but he’s dug in his heels. Says he doesn’t believe in messing with success. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“And your philosophy?”
“If it ain’t broke now, it’ll be broke five years from now, and by then it’s too late. The way developing countries are coming on...” He stopped. “Sorry. At the moment, I can’t think any further than getting Jason out of this mess.” He turned across more endless fields. In the distance a group of pines stood on the only rise within miles. David turned down a gravel road and dropped his speed. “So what dc you think happened that night?” he asked.
“I think Waneath got out of the car, or maybe Jasor shoved her out—he’s certainly feeling guilty about something. She started walking, and somebody—probably some one from that party—came along and picked her up. She was still half-drunk and mad as a wet hen, remember. Maybe whoever picked her up wanted to have sex, and she didn’t.”
“So this unknown stops the car, walks around to his trunk, gets out his tire iron, pulls her out of the car, hits her with it, leaves her body beside the road and drives off?” David shook his head. “And what was she doing all this time?” He dragged his hand along his jaw. “I knew Waneath, Kate. She had a very high opinion of herself. In the mood she must have been in, she’d have been a handful. I can’t see her sitting quietly waiting for some man to kill her, can you?”
“Okay, so maybe he said he thought he had a flat tire, or told her he had a blanket in the trunk that they could spread out. Maybe he drove a truck and carried his tire iron in the back seat. Maybe it wasn’t a tire iron—that was only that funeral director-cum-coroner’s best guess. We’ll know more when we get the results of the autopsy in Memphis. Those guys have a national reputation. If there’s anything to discover, they’ll find it.”
“Meantime, we’re looking at a possible indictment just after Christmas. Some Christmas.” He slowed for an intersection and waited while a big cotton picker trundled through.
Kate watched it, fascinated by the bits of cotton that blew in its wake like snow flurries. “Everything in our lives always seems to happen around Christmas, doesn’t it?” Kate said.
He took his hand off the wheel and dropped it on Kate’s thigh. “I’ll never forget how beautiful you looked with the holly wound through your hair that Christmas Eve we got married. Like a Druid priestess.”
Kate removed his hand and said dryly, “Actually, it’s the following year I remember so well. ‘Now, Kate, for your first Christmas as a married woman, and for your first anniversary present, here you go—a cheating, lying husband.”
“It wasn’t like that.” He pulled around a pickup and ignored the wild barking of the pair of Australian sheepdogs that occupied its bed.
“Oh, really? You actually didn’t cheat?” Kate said as soon as she thought her voice could be heard above the yapping.
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t run home and confess you’d committed adultery either.”
“When you asked flat out if I’d been unfaithful, I admitted it.” He swiveled his head to look at her. “You never considered forgiving me, did you? Not for a minute.”
“I warned you before we were married that adultery was an unforgivable sin in my book. I might even have been able to deal with it if you’d picked some little actress you met at an audition—a one-night stand with a stranger.” She stared out the window. Along the sides of the road bits of cotton were caught in the weeds. “But you had to pick the one woman in the world I knew I could never replace.”
“You didn’t replace anyone. You were my wife. I didn’t ask Melba to marry me, I asked you.”
“And discovered what a bad bargain you’d made. So you went back to plan A. Did you intend to tell me eventually, or were you simply going to continue the liaison whenever she could get away to New York?”
“I never expected to see her again. It was damn near a one-night stand.”
“And the worst Christmas of my life.” She turned to him. “Before that year, I always loved Christmas. Even my father stuck around on Christmas. We acted like a real, normal family. The campus was always decorated, and we had an enormous tree—you remember, when you came down to many me. There were carols in the chapel, and parties with wassail and carolers in costume in the faculty quadrangle. It was the happiest time of the year. Until that Christmas in New York. Since then I’ve never trusted it. If you can’t trust Christmas, what can you trust?”
David drove through a stand of pine trees and pulled into a gravel turnaround in front of a small house that looked as though it belonged on a cliff in Big Sur—all peaked roofs and glass. Beside the front door sat an aged red pickup seemingly held together by the patches of rust and mud that covered it. David climbed out. “Come on in. I’ll get you my spare set of keys.”
“This is your house?” Kate said as she followed him up the front steps. “It doesn’t have quite that old plantation look that I would have expected from Melba.”
“That’s because I didn’t build it until a couple of years ago. We lived with Dub until Melba died. Jason refused to move when I did. I decided not to force him out of the only home he’d ever known. I knew he’d be leaving for college soon anyway. He’d had enough upset. He took his mother’s death hard.”
“But you went ahead and moved without him?”
“Yeah. I needed some distance from Long Pond. I bought this land a long time ago. It’s only twenty acres, and it’s not great crop land. I used to come out here sometimes and just sit in the trees. Made me feel almost as though I was home in North Carolina.”
“It’s nice. Not so flat.”
“The house is plenty big enough for me, and Jason too if he ever decides to move in.”
He opened the broad front door and ushered Kate in. The house consisted of one large room with stairs on one end leading to what must be at least two bedrooms, if there was 94 FATHERS AND SONS space for Jason. The kitchen was open along one wall. Furniture was sparse, modern and upholstered in leather that looked as though it had been salvaged from old saddles and gentlemen’s clubs in the Edwardian era. The floor was dark red quarry tile. A stone chimney ran up the wall by the stairs leading to the loft. The whole place looked as though it could simply be hosed down. There was no evidence of a female presence—no pictures on the walls, and only an untidy stack of magazines on the scarred coffee table.
David opened a rolltop desk in the corner to reveal a computer. He dug into one of the cubbyholes beside the mouse and came up with a set of keys dangling from a John Deere-tractor key ring. He handed them to Kate, and as she took them, he closed his fingers over hers. “Don’t go.”
She swallowed, but left her hand in his. “I’ve got things to do, people to see.”
“Kate, do you have any idea what it’s like to see you again? To have you here?”
“David...”
“Listen to me. It was all I could do yesterday not to sweep you up in my arms and drag you off to my cave.”
“And leave Jason sitting in jail?”
“That’s the only reason I didn’t.” He grinned ruefully, “That, and the fact that you would have fought me like a tiger.” He turned her hand over and bent his head to brush her palm with his lips.
She felt the waves of heat welling up from her center, heat so strong that for a moment she felt as though she’d pass out. She couldn’t deny that his touch, his voice, the sight and sound of him opened her to emotions she had denied for far too long. She should turn around and run, but as his lips found their way to the pulse in her wrist, as his other arm encircled her waist and drew her to him, she resisted only for a moment before she let herself be drawn against his chest.
Her body remembered him, fitted against him so familiarly that twenty years were wiped out in an instant. She closed her eyes and felt his lips sweep her temples, her eyelids, and finally touch her lips. She opened to his kiss as she always had, feeling tendrils of flame lick her, torment her with a need for him she’d denied for too long.
Suddenly she stiffened. “No! I can’t do this. Not again. Not ever again!” She tried to pull away, but he held her. She felt his breath on her cheek. She couldn’t breathe without scenting him. “Please, let me go.” She twisted out of his grasp and started for the door.
He called after her, “Kate, stop, please.”
“My memory’s not that convenient. You obviously don’t remember our last encounter.”
“I remember,” he said, and followed her. The urgency of his voice stopped her with one hand on the doorknob. “But what I remember most is your soft eyes when I’d look down into your face while we made love, the taste of your tongue, and the hills and valleys of the roof of your mouth.” He moved behind her and ran his hands down her shoulders and arms.
Against her will she closed her eyes and leaned back against him.
He whispered, his voice close to her ear so that she could feel his breath. “I remember the way your lovely long hair fell across my chest like a damask curtain when you made love to me. I remember the way your breasts fit my hands. I remember the way you opened to me and the arch of your back when you came... I remember the wild times and the tender times and the crazy experiments where we wound up on the floor laughing our heads off. All of it, Katie. Sometimes nearly a whole day goes by when I don’t remember and I think, I’m over her. And then it all floods back and I know I’ll never be free of you. There’s not an inch, a molecule, an atom of you that I don’t remember and want.”
She clenched her fists and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Then why wasn’t I enough?”
“You were more than enough.”
She slipped out of his grasp. As much as she wanted to run, maybe it was time to have this out between them. She strode to the fireplace and braced her hand against the rough-hewn mantel. “If I’d been enough, if you’d loved me, you wouldn’t have needed anyone else.”
He followed her, and she raised her other hand to stop him five feet away. He sighed deeply. “I could never convince you that I loved you. God knows I tried. When you found out about Melba, you weren’t surprised. You were mad as hell and never wanted to see me again. You walked away without a backward glance, never gave me a chance to explain or to apologize. But you weren’t surprised, because you’d always expected it. I thought then it was because of your father and what he put your mother through, but it wasn’t that, was it?”
She looked at him squarely now and tried to keep her voice steady—the voice she used on judges and juries. It was important to stay in command. Now that confrontation was unavoidable, she wanted everything clear between them. Then maybe she could do her job without thinking about David, being aware of him. “Maybe I wasn’t surprised,” she said carefully. “I knew someday you’d see what a mess I was, how unworthy I was of you. That’s why I tried so hard to make myself indispensable, to do everything I could to help your career, to be the perfect helpmate.”

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