Longing and Lies (12 page)

“You should get a call this week about scheduling a home visit,” Gail said as she turned to leave.

Elliot and Ashley watched them as they walked out, and neither could deny the unsettling feeling that Dr. and Mrs. Ettinger had left behind.

“J
azz, I need you to do a full background search on a Dr. Thomas Ettinger,” Elliot was saying into the phone as he looked over the brochure from Happy Homes Adoption Agency.

It was Jazz who'd designed the kits that the ladies used, that came complete with micro cameras disguised as lapel pins or magnetic disks, bubble bath that could knock out a horse, dusting power that was actually to lift fingerprints and a host of other necessary gadgets. In addition to which she was a master researcher and software developer. If there was any dirt under the fingernail of a subject, Jasmine could find it.

“Not a problem,” she said, “I'll get on it. As soon as I have something I'll let you know.”

“Oh, and Jazz, look, this is just between us, but I need you to take a look at a cold case…”

 

“So how is everything going between you and Elliot?” Mia asked as they prepared a PowerPoint presentation for a client.

Ashley smiled. “I wish I could complain but I can't.”

“You actually sound happy.”

She turned to Mia. “You know what…I am. For the first time in a very long while, I feel happy inside, Mia. I look forward to the end of the day, the nights, the mornings. We enjoy each other, in and out of the bed,” she quickly added. “And as much as I hated to admit it, he's damned good at what he does and we work well together.”

Mia nodded as she listened to her friend gush about her blossoming relationship, and dared to ask the question that sat in the room like a third person. “Are you falling in love with him, Ash?”

“I know it sounds silly and so romance novel cliché but I'm already in love with him. I've never felt this way about anyone before.”

“And what about Elliot? Do you think he feels the same way?”

Ashley blew out a slow breath then looked at Mia. “I don't know.”

Mia leaned forward on the desk and linked her fingers together. “Ash, I know you're a big girl and you can take
care of yourself in a street fight, but this is different. There are feelings involved. What are you going to do when this case is over and they send him off to who the hell knows where for months at a time? Are you prepared to deal with that?”

Ashley pushed back from the table and stood. She turned her back to Mia and slowly paced the floor. For a moment she glanced up at the ceiling as if the answer may be somewhere in the heavens. “It keeps me awake at night,” she said, her voice distant and thin. “Sometimes I wake up in the morning with this paralyzing feeling that he's gone. And I can't move until I check every sound in the apartment, and hear his footsteps, or his off-beat humming, or the shower.” She swallowed. “Just something to let me know that he hasn't left me, at least not yet.” She turned and faced Mia. “But whatever happens I'll deal with.”

“I know you will, sis.” She waited a beat. “On another note, how is the case going—any leads?”

“We're not really sure but of all people to run into the other night…” She told Mia about their encounter with Gail and her husband Dr. Ettinger.

“It could be something or nothing at all. This is New York and you're liable to run into anyone. She could have been nervous for the reason that she said, most people don't know that they're married.” She shrugged. “What's your gut telling you?”

“I can't put my finger on it. But their demeanor changed somehow during the course of the conversation.”

“What do you mean?”

“They just all of a sudden wanted to bend over backward to accommodate us.” She focused on Mia, trying to convey the sense of something awry to her.

“Could be that it eased an awkward situation or that they want you to help them keep their little secret if they help you.”

“I suppose. One good thing came out of it all.”

“What's that?”

“We got our appointment for a home visit. Tomorrow, 10:00 a.m.”

 

Elliot and Ashley finished taking a last look around the apartment. Even though Ashley spent most nights in Elliot's bed, for the purposes of the visit they'd moved all of Ashley's belongings into Elliot's room leaving her room as the guest room or potential nursery.

The doorbell rang at precisely 10:00 a.m. Ashley looked to Elliot. “Ready?”

“Yes, dear,” he teased, giving her rear a gentle love tap.

“Not in front of company,” she said, leaning up to him and kissing him full on the lips. She used her thumb to wipe away the residue of her lip gloss.

Ashley buzzed the front door and watched on the lobby camera as a young man and woman approached the elevator.

“They're on their way up.”

Moments later their front doorbell rang. Ashley
and Elliot answered it together. The team introduced themselves as Wendy and Glen. They showed their identification along with a printout on Happy Homes letterhead indicating the appointment time and place.

They were young—in their late twenties to early thirties, very social-service-looking—serious about their work. They came complete with a checklist of questions, forms and a digital camera. While Elliot and Ashley filled out forms, Glen took photographs of the apartment.

“Is this where you plan to live?” Wendy asked, but it almost sounded like an accusation.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Elliot asked.

“No.” She made some notes. “Are you planning to work, Mrs. Morgan, once you get the child?”

“No. My plan is to stay home and raise my baby.” She looked to Elliot for confirmation and he nodded in agreement.

“I see,” Wendy said, but clearly she didn't, as she sounded, once again, disturbed by their answers.

Glen returned to the living room. “All done,” he announced. “You have a beautiful place.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said.

Wendy shot Glen a look of reproach. His pockmarked face reddened.

Wendy closed her leather folder with a snap and stood. “I think that covers everything.” She reached into her wallet and took out a business card. “If you have questions, you can call. Thank you for your time.”

“How long will the process be now that we've had a home visit?”

“Every case is different,” she said noncommittally. “Good luck.” She turned and walked toward the door with Glen trailing behind.

Elliot walked with them to the front door and let them out. “Thanks again,” he said, shutting the door behind them. “Feel a little chilly in here to you?” he asked tongue in cheek.

“That is one cold sister,” Ashley said. “Not a smile, not a kind word.”

“No personality.” He flopped down on the couch. “Can you imagine parents who are really looking to adopt and have to deal with her?”

Ashley shook her head. “After all we've been dealing with this past month and a half I almost feel like I am trying to adopt.”

Elliot made a sound in his throat. “I know. Weird. I feel the same way.”

Ashley curled her legs beneath her and adjusted her body in his direction. “You ever think you'll have kids of your own?” she asked and the instant the question was out of her mouth she wanted to snatch it back.

He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back against the couch cushions. “The kind of life I lead, there's never been room in my life for kids, family, settling down. It just wouldn't be fair.”

Yet he'd been willing to settle down once before, with Lynn, Ashley thought. But apparently not with her.

“Hey.” She popped up from her seated position. “Wanna check out a movie tonight, if you don't have plans?” she asked to change the direction of the conversation. She didn't need him to see how his answer had affected her.

“Hmm, sure, why not. Doesn't that new Jamie Foxx movie start tonight.”

“Yeah, I think it does.” She swallowed over the burn in her throat. “I'll check.” She walked off to the spare room where she'd kept her laptop. She sat down at the desk, covered her face and cried.

 

“Hey, Jazz,” Elliot said, “hang on a sec, I'm driving. Let me pull over.” He signaled and moved into the far-right lane and pulled to a stop in front of an outdoor café. “What do you have for me?”

“Not as much as I would like. I checked your Dr. Ettinger every which way but loose. Based on everything I've come up with he's a straight shooter. He's been running that clinic for just about ten years. Before that he was Chief of Staff at Methodist Hospital.”

“Hmm, thanks, J.”

“There is something else.”

“What's that?”

“Prior to twenty years ago I can't find a scrap of anything on this guy. It's like he didn't exist.”

“What?”

“I'm still checking but prior to 1984, the good doctor was a no-show.”

Elliot frowned. “Keep checking, Jazz, and keep me posted.”

“I sure will.”

He disconnected the call.
Who are you, Dr. Ettinger?

 

When Elliot got back to the apartment later that evening, he walked in on a ringing phone. It wasn't quite six. He didn't expect Ashley back until much later. She and Mia had a dinner meeting with a client. He tossed his jacket on the couch and walked into the kitchen, snatching up the phone on the fourth ring.

“Morgan residence,” he said, and kind of liked the sound of it.

“Mr. Morgan?”

“Yes. Who is this?” He glanced at the caller ID and it showed Anonymous.

The caller cleared her throat. “It's Gail, from the adoption agency.”

He pulled out his PDA from his jacket pocket, connected the USB cord to the phone and pressed record. “Oh, hello. How are you?” He looked at the dial on his PDA and saw that it was recording. “Do you have news for us?”

“I may have a child for you and your wife.”

“That's wonderful! This is the news we've been praying for,” he said, bursting with feigned enthusiasm.

She cleared her throat again. “I was hoping that we could meet, privately, away from the office.”

Bingo.
Elliot felt the adrenaline rush through his veins. “Uh, a private meeting?”

“With you and your wife, of course.”

“Of course. When did you want to meet?”

“Tomorrow evening. Eight o'clock at Bombay on East Seventy-second Street and Riverside Drive.”

“I know the place.”

“Good. I'll make reservations and see you and your wife at eight.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Good night, Mr. Morgan.”

“Good night.”

The call disconnected and he turned off the recorder. This was it. He could feel it in every fiber of his being. Gail was going to make an offer, and once she did the trail had to lead back to the real source. He was hard-pressed to think that Gail Hastings was at the top of this particular food chain. No. It was someone else. That much he was sure of.

He was itching to share the news with Ashley and couldn't wait for her to get home.
Home.
His stomach jumped. He hadn't thought of anyplace as home in more than too many years.

Elliot pulled open the fridge and took out a bottle of Coors. What would it be like not to be in a pretend relationship with Ashley Temple, but in a real one? He twisted off the top and took a long, icy-cold swallow.

After their awkward and tense beginnings, they'd found a rhythm together, and not just in bed, that was
an added plus. They found their rhythm in day-to-day life, doing for each other, looking out for each other, listening, supporting, laughing with each other.

He enjoyed her company. He looked forward to seeing her standing at the stove in the morning, and inhaling the scent of her shower gel at night. Over the weeks that they'd shared a life as a husband and wife, he'd come to embrace the idea of Ashley in his life, enjoying it. And it had become so easy and comfortable that it felt, natural, the way it should be.

When he thought of Ashley, it made him smile from the inside out, from her no-nonsense attitude to her unbelievable sensuality. She was smart, beautiful, funny, sexy and a damned good agent.

He sat down on the recliner, pressed the button on the arm that raised the leg rest.

And for all that was good and wonderful about the life he was living, he knew that it was temporary. They were actors in a play and soon they'd get their curtain call. If things moved in the direction he felt that they would, that call may come much sooner rather than later. Then he and Ashley would go back to the way it was before.

Something deep inside him twisted and he felt an emptiness inside. And he realized with sudden clarity that he didn't want “the way it was before.” That realization scared him, scared him more than flying bullets, car bombs and threats of terrorism. Because he had no gadget, no protective gear, no retaliation to fight
off feelings. He'd tried and for a long time he'd been successful. Until Ashley.

Elliot finished off his beer. He could almost see himself with Ashley for the long haul. But that wouldn't be fair to her. And he had no idea what he would do for a living if he stopped his line of work.

Humph, wishful thinking. He was certain that making a life with him was the last thing on Ashley's mind.

He felt the vibration of his cell phone inside his pants pocket. He pulled it out and checked the lighted screen. It was a text from Jasmine.
May have a line on that
other
project. Need to unravel some threads and let you know.
He halfway smiled. At least when he left her for good, he hoped to leave Ashley with some answers.

W
hen Ashley came in later that evening she was bubbling with excitement over the latest client that MT Management had landed, which was a new cable station that wanted to sponsor a virtual watch party of its launch in all of its markets across the country.

“It's an incredible opportunity,” she enthused as she stepped out of her shoes and tucked them away in the closet that she and Elliot now shared. She pulled her hair away from her face with a headband that had magically appeared.

For a moment, Elliot was taken aback by her raw, natural beauty. Never one to wear makeup, her warm brown complexion was clear and glowed with vitality. Her large, luminous brown eyes sparkled with energy
when she talked in concert with her slender fingers that fluttered and flowed, organizing the distribution of her narrative like a symphony conductor. Her body was a work of art and her smile could warm the coldest room. He was totally enchanted with her, thrilled by her, turned on by her and very much in love with her.

“So what do you think?” she asked, diving onto the bed and landing next to him, unceremoniously jolting him from his assessment of her.

His eyes danced over her for a moment. He stroked the curve of her jaw. “I think that there's not a better team out there that can do what you and Mia do. And they're damned lucky to get you,” he said, searching every corner of his mind to piece together what she'd been talking about while he was daydreaming.

She rolled onto her back and giggled like a little girl. “MT Management is seriously in the big league. The sky is the limit.”

Elliot braced himself on his elbow, leaned down and kissed her ever so tenderly. “Congratulations.”

The rhythm of Ashley's breathing stuttered then sped up as she witnessed an outright look of lust in his eyes.

Elliot kissed her again while he lifted her top. “I want to make love to you,” he said against the swell of her breasts, his voice laden with an emotion that he couldn't name. He could never tell her how he felt, what he was feeling about her. It wasn't fair. But he could show her. He could show her by the way he touched her, the way he
kissed her lips, the way he got her wet enough to receive all of him, the way he moved inside her and held her on the brink until she could no longer bear the denial. Those things he could do. But he could never tell her what it all meant.

 

They lay together afterward beneath the soft light of the full moon. The evenings had grown warmer and the days longer as spring began to step aside for summer.

Elliot held her close, gently running his hand along the soft curve of her spine. “Got a call today.”

“From who?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Gail Hastings. She wants to meet us, privately.”

Ashley blinked away her fatigue. She was fully awake now. She pushed herself into a semi-sitting position. “When did she call?”

“Earlier this evening.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'd intended to but I got so caught up in your coup today and then…” He ran his thumb across her still-tender nipples. “You know I get distracted,” he joked.

She swiped at his hand. “This is important.”

He sat up. The sheet slid down to his waist. “I'm sorry. I know. This may be the break we've been waiting for. She sounded like she wants to make some kind of deal. We'll have to go the meeting and just play it by ear.”

Ashley was bobbing her head in the semi-darkness.
Her mind went fast-forward to finally cracking the case and finding out who was behind the abductions, and somewhere at the end of that rainbow she would find her sister.

“Her birthday is in two weeks,” she said softly. “She would be twenty-three.”

Elliot drew her close. She rested her head on his chest. “If Layla is out there, we'll find her. I promise you.”

 

They went over all the details one more time before they headed out. Ashley would ask all the questions and Elliot would speak for both of them. They had to be sure to insist that money was no object. They had money and could get more.

Ashley had a mini recorder that looked like a cell phone inside her purse that she would activate as soon as conversation began. The digital device could record up to five hours before you had to upload the audio files to a computer.

“Ready?” Elliot asked.

Ashley angled her head and put her hand on her hip. “I'm supposed to be asking all the questions,” she joked.

“Yes, dear,” he tossed back. He put his arm around her waist. “Let's go.”

 

The Bombay Lounge was a high-end, very expensive restaurant complete with authentic Indian food and decor located in the posh Upper East Side of Manhattan.

Ashley and Elliot arrived minutes before eight and
were seated right away. Gail Hastings had already arrived. And so had Dr. Ettinger.

Elliot and Ashley, hand-in-hand, greeted Gail and the doctor and sat down at the round table.

“I'm so glad you could come,” Gail began.

“Yes, we feel very confident that we can help you,” Dr. Ettinger stated.

Ashley grabbed Elliot's hand and squeezed it. “You found a baby for us?” Her eyes widened with hope.

The answer was interrupted by the waiter who came to take their order. Dr. Ettinger made some recommendations to Ashley and Elliot.

“We think we may have found the perfect baby for you,” Gail said once the waiter was gone.

Ashley's hands flew to her mouth. Her eyes filled with emotion.

“We've gone over your entire profile, did a check on your backgrounds and we have every reason to believe that you will make ideal parents,” Dr. Ettinger said.

Elliot used the opportunity to kiss Ashley. He turned to Gail and her husband. “I told Ash that we finally found the right place when we came to you.”

“So what's the next step?” Ashley asked.

“I'm sure you're both aware that adoptions can generally take up to a year,” Gail said, playing out each word.

Elliot straightened in his seat. “But I thought you said you had a baby for us.”

Dr. Ettinger held up his hand. “What my wife is
saying is that for very select couples, couples that are needy and deserving…Well, sometimes we can speed things up.”

Ashley ran her tongue across her lips. Her voice lowered. “So what do we need to do…to help?”

“Speed is often costly,” Dr. Ettinger stated.

Ashley looked at Elliot.

“I can't impress upon you enough that for us money is no object,” Elliot said. “Whatever it takes.”

The waiter brought their drinks and the food was right behind it.

Elliot was coiled as tight as a cobra ready to strike. It took all of his training and strength of will not to reach across the table, snatch the both of them by the necks and shake all the answers out of them. Instead he concentrated on his meal, making small talk and sipping his drink.

When the dishes had been cleared away, Gail and Dr. Ettinger resumed the conversation as if discussing selling babies during dinner was bad manners.

“I won't beat around the bush. If you are truly interested, it will cost you $50,000 now and $50,000 upon delivery.”

“How long is delivery going to take?” Ashley asked.

“No more than two weeks. Maybe sooner,” Gail answered.

Ashley expelled a breath of relief. “Two weeks,” she said, her voice shaky with excitement. “We've waited
so long.” Tears slid down her cheeks. She grabbed the white-linen napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Our dream is so close.” She turned to Elliot. “Oh, honey…”

“You said $50,000. How do we work that out?” Elliot asked.

“We'll be in touch when we're sure about the baby. At that time we'll arrange to get the deposit. When we bring the baby we'll expect the balance. You'll be given all the papers to make it official.”

The waiter reappeared with the check. Elliot went to take out his wallet.

“No, please, Mr. Morgan,” Dr. Ettinger said. He put a black American Express card in the leather folder and handed it to the waiter.

“Can we drop you somewhere?” Gail asked.

“No, thank you—we drove,” Elliot answered.

“When do you think we can expect to hear from you?” Ashley asked.

“Soon, I promise,” Gail said, reaching across the table to cover Ashley's hand with her own.

Ashley nodded her head.

 

On the ride home Ashley and Elliot tossed kudos back and forth for their performances.

“You were totally on point with the questions. All of their responses will be used to nail them,” Elliot said.

“You weren't so bad yourself, handsome.” She
squeezed his thigh. “The strong, take-charge husband. Perfect role for you.”

He gave a mock bow as he pulled to a stop at the red light. “But I have to give it to you, Ash, the tears again were a real nice touch. How do you manage to cry on cue like that?”

Her brows flicked for a moment. “When I think about my parents and what they went through, how I felt…I imagine the pain that some other family will go through to make our dreams come true. Was Layla some desperate family's dream come true?” Her voice cracked. She lowered her head. “I'm sorry.”

“You have no reason to apologize. It was insensitive of me.” He took a quick glance at her. “I think we're finally on track. This may all be over soon, and hopefully we'll make a lot of families happy, including yours.”

“And what about those families that will have to give up children they've grown to love and the children who love them?”

Elliot was silent. He had no answer.

 

The following morning they met with Jean and Bernard at The Cartel headquarters.

“Based on the information that you've provided, we're putting Dr. Ettinger and his wife under twenty-four hour surveillance,” Jean said. “They could very well be getting these babies from mothers who are willingly giving them up for the right price. Either way, we'll get to the bottom of it.”

“Any luck with the rest of the list?” Bernard asked.

Ashley shook her head. “Clean.”

Jean nodded her head. “So for now, Happy Homes is our target.” She closed the file on the desk. “Keep us posted.”

Ashley and Elliot rose.

“Seems you two are getting along much better,” Jean said, as she adjusted several stacks of paper on her desk.

Her comment froze them in place. They weren't sure if they should respond or ignore her.

Jean slipped her red-rimmed glasses from her nose. “Have a good day.”

They practically ran out of the door.

“It's spooky how she knows things,” Ashley whispered as they hurried out.

“Yeah, creepy. Her sixth sense is legendary,” Elliot said, as they rounded the last flight of stairs onto the ground floor.

Jasmine was coming up from the basement as they walked to the front door.

“Hey, E, Ashley.”

They turned to the sound of their names.

“Jazz,” they said in unison.

“I'm glad I ran into you guys. I have some information on your case. I was going to take it up to Jean.”

“What do you have?”

She handed over the file. “I'm almost 90 percent sure that Dr. Ettinger and Dr. Lester are the same person.”