Inescapable (28 page)

“Well, that was about the best dinner I ever had,”
Clay said, polishing off his last bite of steak. “Your mommy is a really good cook, Charity.”

She smiled. “You should try her grilled cheese sandwiches. They're yummy!”

He laughed easily. He and Charity had developed a comfortable friendship, and I was glad to see it. “I'll do that one of these days.”

“What about dessert, Mama?” she said coquettishly. Charity knew she had charmed Clay and was playing it for all she was worth.

“Yes, we're having dessert,” I said, “and after that, you're going to bed.”

Her bottom lip stuck out. “But I want to stay up and play with Clay.”

“Sorry, Cherry Bear,” I said, “but it's very late. Clay can come another time. You can play with him then.”

“Okay, but we still hafta eat our dessert. What is it?”

I smiled. “How about hot fudge sundaes?”

“Oh, Mama. That would be just lovely.”

Clay grinned. “I think that would be just lovely too.”

I started to pick up our dinner dishes when he stopped me. “You've done enough. I'll carry the dishes.”

“Thank you. If you'll take them into the kitchen, I'll start on those
lovely
hot fudge sundaes.”

“There will be nuts, right Mama?” Charity's question was asked with all seriousness. One episode from an ice cream store in Kansas City when the woman making the sundaes forgot the nuts had caused Charity to become the guardian of hot fudge sundaes. She had no intention of allowing that kind of mistake to occur again.

“I promise you, Cherry Bear, there will be nuts.”

“Then it's okay.” She settled back with a sigh, content to wait for the highly anticipated sundae to make its entrance.

Clay picked up our plates and carried them to the kitchen while I got the ice cream out of the freezer and began heating up the fudge topping. It was interesting to see how many trips it took him to carry everything when I could have done it in one. There was a way to stack dishes for maximum volume, and Clay obviously needed a lesson. But tonight wasn't the time for instruction in the fine art of waitressing.

I served the sundaes, topped with whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry, to the delight of my daughter and a smile of appreciation from her father. By the time Charity finished her last bite, her eyes were heavy with sleep. It didn't take much encouragement to get her to tell Clay good-night and give him a kiss, so I could carry her upstairs to bed. We prayed together, and then I tucked her in. She dozed off immediately.

On my way toward the stairs, I noticed the cell phone blinking in the living room. It was finally charged, so I decided to unplug it. As I did, something occurred to me. Something I'd missed the first time I checked the messages. I'd saved all of Meghan's calls, and it just took a moment to find out what I wanted to know. Strange. I turned off the phone and plugged the DVD player back in. It didn't make any sense. What did it mean?

I quickly retrieved the brown paper package Mother had given me and opened it. What I discovered caused me even more concern. Shoving the letters into a drawer, I tried to get myself together before joining Clay downstairs. As I came down the steps, he must have noticed the look on my face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “Is Charity okay?”

“Yes, it's not that.” I frowned at him. “Clay, earlier this evening I found some calls on my cell phone from my friend Meghan in Kansas City. Seems my old boss raised the roof about the missing money. A little investigation uncovered the truth—that Reba took the money in an attempt to frame me. I've been completely cleared.”

His jaw dropped. “But . . . but that's wonderful, Lizzie! I can hardly believe it. You must be so relieved.”

I sat down at the table across from him. “Oh, I am. But Meghan's first call came a few days after I arrived in Kingdom. That's over a week before you told me charges had been filed against me.”

He looked puzzled. “My information must have been wrong. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. My source is usually very reliable.”

“It's a good thing I plugged my cell phone in. I'd have never known the truth.”

“I'll certainly be calling my friend to find out what happened. I know his information frightened you, and I wouldn't do that for the world.”

I drew an imaginary circle on the tabletop with my finger. “It certainly seems odd, though. Don't you think? I thought you said your source knew James Webb.”

He frowned, his hazel eyes seeking mine. “Yes, that's right. What are you trying to say?”

“It just seems a little convenient, doesn't it? You want me to go with you to Seattle, and lo and behold your
friend
tells you that the authorities are after me.”

“Lizzie,” he said, looking at me strangely, “I would never try to manipulate you into marrying me. I only want your happiness. And Charity's. I think you're letting your imagination run away with you.”

“Maybe. Seems like I've been wrong about a lot of things. About several people in my life. Especially the men.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Men? I hoped I was the only one. How many men are you involved with?”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Well, one of them is my father, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Your father? Not much to misunderstand about him. He's certainly treated you horribly.”

“Yes, he has. You're right about that.” I looked at him through narrowed eyes. The confusion I'd experienced since checking the dates of Meghan's first phone call and the postmarks on Clay's letters began to turn into anger. “But so have you.”

Clay shook his head. “Lizzie, I apologized. More than once. And I explained. There's not much else I can do. Has something happened? You seem so . . . so different tonight.”

“My mother brought me your letters, Clay.”

He looked relieved. “Good. Have you read them?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“I don't understand. Why not? If you read them, you'll see clearly how much I love you. How much I've always loved you.”

“I don't doubt that they're packed with declarations of love and commitment.”

“Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

I leaned forward. “No. Not anymore.”

He reached out and took my hand in his. “I have no idea what's bothering you, but I don't like it. We've planned a wonderful life together. With our child. And now . . . Is it Noah Housler? Has he been filling you with lies? Trying to destroy us? You can't trust him, Lizzie. He'd do anything to break us up.”

I gazed down at his hand. Well manicured. Clean. Soft. Unlike Noah's hands, which were rough from hard work and many times had dirt beneath the nails from working out in the fields. I pulled my hand from his. “No. The only lies have been coming from you.”

“What lies? I haven't lied to you. I wouldn't do that.”

“Those letters were sent in the last year, Clay. None of them were postmarked before last January. You didn't try to reach me right after your father's death.” I stared at him, feeling as though I was really seeing him for the first time. “You've been lying to me ever since you got to Kingdom. Do you know what you've put me through? If you think I'd leave with you after the way you've tried to manipulate me, you're sadly mistaken.”

He didn't say anything. Just sat there. I felt like he was thinking, trying to come up with an explanation that would mollify me. Finally, he stood up.

“I need some coffee. How about you?”

“I guess. However, I'd rather have an explanation.”

“And you'll get it. After I get us both a cup of coffee.”

After he left, I took a deep cleansing breath. My hands were shaking, but not from fear. I was furious. Furious at being used. Furious at being lied to. As I sat there waiting, troubling ideas began to float through my brain. Bits and pieces that didn't make sense. I was so entrenched in my thoughts, I didn't hear Clay return. When he set a coffee cup down in front of me, I was startled.

“So you've made up your mind? You're not coming to Seattle with me?” he asked.

“No. But I'd already decided not to go before I made the connection about the phone calls and the letters.”

“And why is that?”

I didn't like the look on his face. His expression was void of emotion, and his tone of voice disturbed me.

“Because I realized the main reason I was going with you was to protect Charity and give her a father. I would do anything for my daughter. Unfortunately, it wasn't because I loved you.”

“But you said you did.”

“I think I did . . . once, but I've realized I'm not the same person I was when I knew you before, Clay. I've grown up. I want something different in my life.”

“Like Noah Housler?”

“Yes, like Noah Housler. And Kingdom. The truth is, I don't want to leave this town. I love this old restaurant, and I want to run it. Also, I want to bring Charity up around my parents and all the other wonderful people who live here.”

“What about me?”

“You have to do whatever's best for you. It will take me a long time to trust you again.” I picked up my coffee cup. The pot must have been on way too long. It was bitter, but I drank it anyway. I needed a shot of caffeine to stay on my toes.

“What if the best thing for me is to take Charity to Seattle?”

The coffee cup almost slipped from my hands. “Take Charity? Away from me? Of course not. But you can see her, Clay. Even if I don't like what you did, she
is
your daughter.”

He took a sip from his own cup and put it down. “I'm afraid that won't work for me. My mother would never accept that.”

“What does your mother have to do with anything?” I finished the coffee in my cup and wished I had more.

Clay sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands. “She has something to do with everything. You see, she has the money. My father left her all of it. Every last dime. And unless I bring her granddaughter to her, I'll have nothing. She's threatened to write me out of her will.”

I shook my head slowly. “I don't understand . . .” But that wasn't true. I
was
beginning to understand. And if I was right, the truth was horrifying. “Clay, who was Dave Parsons?”

He raised his head, and I was shocked to see the wild look in his eyes. “Dave Parsons was a cheap detective hired to find you. He did a great job, letting me know you were in Kansas City. But then he became a problem.”

“A problem?” The room seemed to be spinning slightly. I guess I hadn't realized how tired I was. I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Clay smiled oddly. The corners of his mouth turned up, but the eyes that studied me were cold and dead. Like a shark's. “He found out about the notes I was sending to you, and he wanted out. Felt sorry for you. Poor old Dave just didn't have the killer instinct, you see.”

“You sent those vile threats?” My tongue felt too thick for my mouth. “Why?”

He laughed. “I told you. My mother wants her granddaughter. I guess she's given up on me. She thinks she can groom Charity to carry on the family name.” He shrugged. “I don't care, as long as I get the bulk of her estate. She promised me a tidy sum as well as a place on the board of my father's company if I succeed in bringing her long-lost seed home. I thought about how to accomplish the task for a long time. I'd heard you'd left Kingdom, so I sent your parents some letters vowing my unending love. When I didn't hear from them, I hired good old Dave to locate you. After that, I started sending those notes to frighten you.”

“The threatening notes . . .”

He laughed. “Good move to start them up again, wasn't it? I didn't want you to think the threat was past after Dave died. So I stuck one under the door the other night.” He frowned. “Had another one, but I lost it somewhere.”

“In . . . in Noah's truck . . .”

He snorted. “Noah's truck? Now how in the world did it get there?” He chuckled like I'd just told him a really funny joke. “The other night when we had dinner, I was going to drive back to town after you'd gone to bed and put it under the door—just like the other one. But when I looked for it in the car, it was gone. It must have fallen out when I got the roses out. I'm guessing your boyfriend found it and stuck it in his truck.”

All I could do was stare at him.
Oh, God, how could I have been so foolish? Why didn't I realize Clay couldn't be trusted? And how could I have doubted Noah, even for a second?

I suddenly realized something else, although for some reason it was getting harder and harder to think clearly. “So it wasn't Roger who told you where I was?”

“No. Roger didn't call me. But I was glad when you jumped to that conclusion. It was a much better explanation than the one I'd cooked up.”

“You had me set up in Kansas City, didn't you?”

“Yep. I needed to put you in a situation where you'd run to me when I showed up in your life again. When Dave found you in Kansas City, it was easy to call in a few favors. Well, actually I pulled some old skeletons out of several closets. You see, my father had all kinds of people in his back pocket. Luckily, Councilman Webb was one of them. A little pressure, some intimidation thrown in, and he put his girlfriend in at that place you worked. What was the name of it?”

“Harbor . . . Harbor . . .”

“Harbor House. That's right.” He grinned, but it reminded me of the Cheshire cat from
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
. “A little creative thinking and
poof
. Threatening notes. No job. No prospects. Possible imprisonment. And then I sweep in. Your protector. Your knight in shining armor. But before I could
accidentally
run into you in Kansas City and save the day, you took off for this flea-bitten, one-horse town.”