Secrets of Paternity (12 page)

James sat beside her on the bed. She got up and walked away, keeping her back to him as he opened it and read the single page inside.

James folded the note, replaced it in the envelope. He didn't wonder why she hadn't shared the letter before. He knew why. “What's your take on it?” James asked Caryn.

“He owed too much, and he couldn't pay. He figured
they were about to do harm. They probably knew he had insurance to cover the debt.”

James waited.

“Or,” she said, her voice shaking. “He ran away. Couldn't face what he'd done.”

James came up behind her, slid his arms around her. Her body shook. After a moment, she turned around and burrowed against him. He stroked her hair, held her tight.

“We can't tell Kevin,” she said, her voice strong and sure. “Not unless we find out for sure. He has the right to know the truth—when we know the truth. All right? I don't want him to think his father took the coward's way out.”

“Yes.” The answer wouldn't change the investigation, nor how they ran it. “So, you've known this for how long?”

“Since the day before I staked out your house.”

“Do you think he could've run away?”

“Everything inside me says no. But the letter…”

“Is ambiguous.” He leaned back enough to frame her face. “It doesn't change your mind, though, and make you believe as Kevin does, that someone murdered him? If they knew about the insurance, that would be motive enough.”

“Either way it's awful. The police say it was an accident. I desperately want to believe that.”

“The police didn't have this information. It might make a difference,” he said, “depending on what the other facts are—something we won't know until we have all the information.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Anything else you're keeping from me?”

She shook her head. “That's it. I promise.”

He tucked her close again. “Okay.”

“I was too sheltered. Paul took care of everything. That's never going to happen again.”

It sounded like a warning, one he didn't need. He understood she was a changed woman from a year ago. Who wouldn't be under the same circumstances? Truth was, he liked this woman. He wasn't too sure he would've wanted someone who deferred to him about everything.

“I should go,” he said.

She'd been up on tiptoe. He hadn't realized it until she let her heels touch the floor, taking some of her height away. It swamped him with tenderness, although he didn't know why. He held her hand as they walked to the door. He kissed her lightly, briefly. She threw her arms around him and dragged herself close.

He didn't make even token resistance but hauled her up and kissed her, opening her mouth, finding her tongue, savoring her. He ran his hands down her back, cupped her rear, brought her closer still, aligning their hips, moving against her. She gasped. He kissed her deeper. She groaned. He kissed her harder. She begged wordlessly. He shoved her robe over her shoulders and put his mouth over her breast, the flannel drying his mouth.

He unbuttoned her top and found her flesh, the soft and the hard of her. She arched her back, offering herself, and he dragged his tongue under the soft flesh and over the hard, then he drew her nipple into his mouth, toying with it, teasing her. He felt her hand settle at his waist. She dragged it down him, cupped him, making the pulse there pound rhythmically, potently. He moved her against the wall, slipped a hand inside her pajama bottoms, let his fingers explore the warm wetness of her, eased a finger inside as he lifted his head and watched her face. Her head fell forward. She sank her teeth into his shoulder as her hips moved frantically then went motionless, but still taut and
arched forward. Then she moved, steadily, powerfully. He gloried in her response.

She finally slowed, relaxed. He buttoned her pajamas, picked up her robe and tossed it onto the bed.

“What about—”

“Shh,” he said, kissing her. “That was risky enough. See you in the morning.”

He made his way to his bedroom, yanked off his clothes and stepped into the shower, not cold, but not too hot, either. Her scent mingled with the steam, filling the space. He didn't want to wash it away, but he reached for the soap anyway.

The complications just kept getting deeper.

And so did his feelings.

“I
thought it was just gonna be us,” Kevin said the next day, his arms crossed. They'd just finished lunch.

Caryn put the leftovers in the refrigerator, letting James deal with Kevin.

“Lyndsey is a CPA. Her husband, Nate Caldwell, is one of the owners of the firm I work for. We need their help, especially Lyndsey's. They're on their way from the airport now.”

“Where will they stay?”

“In my room. I'll sleep on the couch.”

Kevin tossed his napkin on the counter. “How many more people are you gonna tell about how Dad messed up?”

Caryn met James's gaze. She understood Kevin's hurt, but she knew they both had to swallow their pride if they wanted to resolve everything. How James stayed so cool amazed her, especially when Kevin got visibly angry.

“Do you want answers? Do you want to get back to your life?” James asked.

Kevin nodded, once, rigidly.

“Then this is the fastest way. They won't tell anyone.”

“But they'll
know.
”

“They know much worse about a lot of people.”

“That makes it okay?” Kevin stalked out of the room.

Caryn saw him veer into the living room, so she guessed he was going back to work. It was her first moment alone with James since…last night. He gave her a crooked smile that said more than words.

“So, how are you?” he asked.

“Somewhat…satisfied,” she said, flirting. “How about you?”

“Not.”

“I offered.”

“I hope to take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Whew. When he turned his attention to something, he did it all the way. She felt the heat from his eyes from across the counter. “You're very patient with him, James.”

“No reason to lose patience. Plus, today… It's hard on both of you.”

Caryn hadn't awakened with the anniversary on her mind, but James instead. It hadn't taken long for her to remember, but for a few moments she was just a woman like any other woman, trying to figure out a man, trying to do what was best for her son and herself, trying to move forward in life.

The doorbell rang. Caryn followed James to the door, was introduced to the couple, Lyndsey with her curly brown hair and green glasses that matched her eyes, and Nate with his attractive blond surfer looks. James offered
them lunch, which they declined, took them to the office and left them there to work, then he, Caryn and Kevin dived into the rest of the boxes.

Hours went by. Even with music playing in the background, the house seemed extraordinarily quiet, Caryn thought as she watched Kevin and James working side by side, their heads together, examining a stack of papers. How alike they were. And yet different. Some of Paul was in Kevin, too, in a few of his gestures and word inflections. And some of herself, too, she hoped, things she probably never noticed.

Nate wandered in. “Do you have the IOUs, Caryn?”

“Aren't they in there?”

“No.”

She looked around the room. “They wouldn't be with these materials. I kept them— Oh. I kept them in one of my cookbooks.”

Everyone zeroed in on her. “I figured Kevin would never open one,” she said with a shrug. “I was going to rent a safe-deposit box, but I forgot. I'll go get them.”

“I will,” Kevin said, standing, then hesitating. “Look, my plans tonight were with Emmaline. Can I go there after I get the receipts?”

Caryn looked at James and nodded slightly.

“It's okay with me,” he said. “Except you can't drive yourself.”

Kevin crossed his arms. “I'm not going to see Venus. That's a promise. I told you we were only friends.”

“Someone will come get you in the morning,” James said. “Sleep in, if you want, then give us a call. My mother makes the best waffles.”

Caryn saw James look outside to evaluate how dark it
was. Dark enough, she decided, when he said to Nate, “Could you take him in my BMW? You can leave and return through the garage that way. Kevin, you need to—”

“Crouch down in the back seat. I know. Same rules as coming.”

After Kevin and Nate left the room, James looked at Caryn. “We should be thinking about dinner, I guess. We'll just order in. Got a favorite in mind?”

“I like everything. You might ask Lyndsey, though. Pregnant women sometimes can't tolerate certain foods.”

“Pregnant?” He looked in the direction of the office.

Caryn put a hand over her mouth, appalled at herself. “I'm sorry. I just assumed you knew. Oh, shoot.”

“How can you tell?”

“I just…can.”

“Hmm. I wonder why they haven't said anything. Dana, the wife of Sam Remington, one of the other L.A. partners is pregnant, too. They announced it last week.”

“Well, don't bring it up to Nate or Lyndsey. They must have a reason for keeping it to themselves. Just ask what kind of food she and Nate would like.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Caryn took a moment to stretch her legs. After he went out the doorway she sat in James's overstuffed chair and closed her eyes. It had felt all day like a family day. Her eyes stung at the crazy thought. Their relationship was so new and so strange, yet it felt natural and normal and…right.

“Lyndsey says anything with mashed potatoes,” James said, returning.

“Comfort food.”

“I know just the place.” He left again then just as quickly
returned and walked right up to her. He leaned his hands on the arms of the chair and kissed her, and nothing short and sweet, either, but a kiss that felt distinctly like foreplay. She brought her hands to his face, slipped her thumbs along his lips.

James suddenly turned his head toward the door. Caryn didn't see anything.

“I think we were observed, Mysterious.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not as far as I'm concerned. Lyndsey knows how to keep secrets. I'd better go see what she wanted, though.”

Some kiss, Caryn thought. Some amazing kiss.

A while later, the four adults ate a leisurely dinner of Mama Jo's Down Home Comfort Food—chicken and dumplings, mashed potatoes, corn, and banana pudding—while dissecting what Nate and Lyndsey had learned so far.

“My roughest preliminary estimate,” Lyndsey said, “is that Paul could have owed the eight hundred thousand dollars that you paid, but I doubt it was actually that much. Any wins would be applied to the debt. Pay up or else.” She shrugged at Caryn. “I've handled quite a few cases like this at ARC. I recognize the pattern.”

“So, you're making an educated guess,” James said.

“That's what it amounts to, yes. I've got more to check, though.” She yawned.

“Tomorrow,” Nate said, sliding an arm around her shoulder. “You've done enough for today.”

James looked at his watch. Not even eight o'clock and Lyndsey was ready for bed. Caryn must be right about the pregnancy. “Yes, tomorrow is fine,” James said.

“I'm all right—”

Nate shook his head. He and his wife exchanged a look,
then Nate added, “We're going to spend the night with Sam and Dana, though. I'm sorry we didn't let you know right away. Lyndsey and Dana want to catch up, and I've got some business with Sam. It worked out that they were in San Francisco for the weekend. Plus I'd like him to take a look at the IOUs.”

James wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He and Caryn would have the house to themselves. He didn't offer even token resistance to the plan. He did note, however, that Caryn got awfully busy with clearing the table, never once making eye contact.

Twenty minutes later they were alone in the house.

“They hadn't planned to stay with Sam and Dana,” Caryn said, as they stood in the foyer after saying goodbye. “Lyndsey saw us kissing, and decided after Kevin wasn't coming back to give us time alone.”

“You think?” He figured as much, too. If he were the one in charge of pay raises, he would be lining Lyndsey up for one right now.

Caryn just stared at him.

He set his hands on her shoulders. “It doesn't mean anything has to happen, Mysterious. When you think about it, we hardly know each other.” Yet he felt as though he'd known her for years. Go figure. Now that he stopped to consider it, it probably wasn't such a good idea, after all. “And tonight, of all nights,” he added. “Maybe the timing's all wrong.”

“We'll see how the evening goes,” she said.

“Right.”

The evening dragged. They finally had everything sorted. There wasn't a place to step that didn't have a piece of paper on it. It was time to start dumping. Box upon box
was filled with never-to-be-needed-again bills and receipts. Warranties for long-ago-tossed appliances and tools were also dumped. A
maybe
box was started. A couple of
keep
boxes, too. At almost midnight Caryn pushed her hands against her lower back and straightened.

“No more,” she said.

He nodded. “This is good. There's enough done that Kevin won't wonder how we spent the evening, and enough left for him to help finish up tomorrow.”

“We're
good.
”

He grinned.

“James, if Lyndsey is right, and Paul didn't owe that much money, what's the next step?”

“Find out who bilked you.”

“You can do that?”

“Hope so.”

“Do you think it's the same people who were watching you—or me—or whoever it was they were really watching?”

“Maybe.”

“You're full of certainty, aren't you?”

“My job is to be right. Being right entails being cautious, so that the wrong people don't get tagged while the right ones get off.”

She rubbed her temples. “You're right, of course. I just want it over and done.”

He moved close to her and put his arms around her, drawing her near. He pushed the heels of his hands into her lower back. She groaned.

“This is harder than waitressing,” she said.

“You're just used to your job. You've used different muscles today.” He felt her relax against him, and he wid
ened the area he rubbed, from her shoulders down to her tailbone. “I've got a spa tub.”

“You do?”

“You're welcome to use it.”

She said nothing.

“Alone,” he added, in case that was worrying her. He figured she'd been direct about everything else. She'd be direct about this, too.

“What about after that?”

Her words were muffled by his chest, but he heard them. “Up to you, Caryn.”

“You're not going to just take charge and let me off the hook?”

He wanted to. He'd rather they just be swept away, unable to stop themselves. But they were mature, responsible adults, capable of making rational decisions about sex. Ten years ago, hell,
five
years ago, he might have done as she said. But there was too much riding on this relationship not to think it through. They had a lifetime of contact ahead. As she said once, they would even be grandparents together.

Which was also why they needed to sleep together and get it over with now, before they made too much of it, before they made it too important. Do it now. End the curiosity. Become friends instead of lovers. Easy.

“I think I'll take you up on your offer,” she said.

Which one?

“Any tricks to using the tub?” she asked.

“Fill the tub to a couple inches above the jets, then push the big chrome button. It'll stay on for ten minutes at a time.”

She stepped away from him. “Where will you be?”

“Down here until I hear you head to your room.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She patted his cheek and left.

Bemused, he watched her go. Everyone had set them up for a night of unbridled, uninhibited, uninterrupted sex.

And she was going to sleep.

The phone rang. It was the police, and, for once, it was good news.