Set Up (16 page)

He hadn't said anything since unlocking her door and telling her to get up. Nor was speech necessary now. He found a bottle of pain reliever and watched her take two tablets with her coffee.

As they left the cottage, he gripped her arm.

“Don’t worry,” she said, pulling loose. “I'm not going to run away. I'd be foolish to let everything I've worked for be destroyed because of a misunderstanding.”

“There was no misunderstanding, Scarlet.”

Her eyes, gray instead of green and devoid of makeup, looked weak, but she didn't flinch. “When we find Noelle, she'll tell us why she got me to steal that ring and who gave her all the information.”

“Fine. In the meantime, I'm not taking chances on you running off.”

“I told you I won't run away.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Once in the car, she laid her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

At the airfield, he nudged her toward the red and white Cessna waiting to take them to Birmingham. “Come on. We're running late.” He greeted the pilot, but saw no need to introduce the two women.

Amanda didn't seem to care. The ibuprofen must not have helped because she still looked white around the mouth, the way Claire did whenever she had a migraine. He started to ask if her headache was better, but held his tongue. He shouldn't care about her headache.

Once they were airborne, she closed her eyes, still looking sick.

Well, hell. His head hurt, too, from the sleepless night spent reviewing what she'd told him.

He was pretty sure her sister's accomplice was a man, and he suspected the man was Sonny Kirkman. Sonny was persuasive with women, and as Robert's assistant, had opportunities to get the safe combination. Much as Cal liked Sonny, he couldn’t come up with any other possibilities.

Shooting a glance at the haggard woman beside him in the small plane, he found himself wanting to believe her story and absolve her. After all, if she was willing to break the law to help her sister, shouldn't her misguided loyalty be commended?

Sort of?

He knew firsthand the desperation engendered by a sister's cry for help.

Damn it, I'm letting a pretty face get to me again.

By now he ought to know how gullible he was when it came to women. Not that she looked pretty this morning, without makeup and with her mundane hair slicked back in that hideous knot. Unhappy, sick, and worried, but not pretty.

Damn her.
He would make her sorry for what she'd done, and not simply because she had turned his and Claire's lives upside down. He wanted to make her sorry because she had flirted and led him on for her sister's sake. Because she had never been attracted to him. He wanted to make her sorry so as to soothe his wounded pride.

How petty, he jeered. Male ego. That's all it was. He ought to be too damned experienced to let ego color his reactions.

We'll find her frigging sister and get Mother's journal back, he promised himself, and then I'll never have to see Amanda Jane again.

* * * *

Maybe their talk with Noelle would pacify Callaway. Maybe he'd learn what he wanted to know and get through with them. Maybe she'd never have to see him again.

Amanda wished.

Outside a small airport near Birmingham, a rental car awaited them.

He was thorough in his arrangements, she thought as she gratefully slid into the passenger side. The pain reliever had alleviated her headache, changing it from a steady hammering to a dull throb.

Callaway drove, his only speech regarding the GPS directions to the rolling area of Alabama where Noelle lived. His tense shoulders proved him geared up for mutiny on her part despite her assurances that she had no intention of running away.

For heavens' sake, how did he think she could possibly run away with his threat of prison hanging over her?

At Noelle's house, one in a subdivision of large homes with steepled and broken roofs, he stood at Amanda's shoulder when she rang the doorbell.

Her brother-in-law opened the door.

“Edward.”
Oh, no, he's supposed to be at work.

Noelle's husband, a slight man with a mustache and thinning ginger hair, was dressed in undershirt and slacks. The smell of soap attested to a recent shower.

“Amanda?” He blinked owlishly, uncertain whether or not she was really there. He eventually decided that she was. “Amanda.” His perplexed gaze took in Callaway and came back to her. “What are you doing here? It's awful early.”

He didn't sound happy to see them, and she had no excuse prepared. “Why, w-we, I, um, you know I always, um, take Mondays off, and—”

“I took Amanda flying,” Callaway McIntyre's smooth voice rescued her, “and she suggested we visit her sister.” He draped a friendly arm around her.

Surprised, Amanda suffered his arm without protest. She even managed a craven smile, so gratified was she that he wasn't spilling all the wrongs suffered at her and Noelle's hands. His cover-up made her feel almost kindly toward him.

“So here we are. I hope we haven't come at a bad time.” Dispelling any gratitude he’d earned, Callaway added, “I felt we should call first, but Mandy said it would be fine to drop in unannounced. Insisted on it, in fact.”

“Don't call me Mandy,” she snapped before remembering Edward's presence. She mustered a smile. “I knew Noelle would be here. Is it a bad time, Edward?”

Her brother-in-law didn't smile back. “You're always welcome, Amanda, but Noelle isn't here.”

“She isn't?”

Callaway interceded again. “Where is she?”

Edward hesitated, looked at Amanda. “She didn't tell you?”

Apprehension prickled in Amanda’s stomach. “Tell me what?”

“You'd better come in.” Edward stepped back.

Callaway raised inquiring brows as they followed Edward through the silent house.

Amanda mouthed, “I don't know.”

In an airy, sky-lighted kitchen, Amanda's nephew sat strapped into a high chair with portions of eggs, grits, toast and bacon around its base. Teddy himself was squeezing some indistinguishable edible object in one grubby fist.

The sight of his big blue eyes and rounded mouth made Amanda forget her worries. She went straight to him.

“Hello, Teddykins.” He crowed as she bent to kiss the crown of his silken hair that was the one clean spot on him. “My goodness, aren't you a mess?” Laughing, she fended off the offerings of food. “No, thank you, sweetie. Auntie's already eaten this morning.”

Callaway eyed them with jaundiced disbelief.

His scorn annoyed her. Why should she care what he thought? “Isn't it late for breakfast, Edward?”

Edward was rinsing out a pan. “The nanny's sick.”

“Where's Noelle?” Callaway asked.

Edward put the pan in the drain. “Gone.” While he caught Teddy under the arms and swung him out of his chair, holding him well away from his trousers, he avoided looking at his guests. “Let's wash you off, fella.”

Callaway and Amanda exchanged glances. A jerk of his head urged her to question Edward further.

Stripping the squirming baby, Edward set Teddy in the sink and sprayed him with the hose. Water flew everywhere, on counters, on the floor, on father as well as son. Teddy howled but his father kept washing.

Amanda gaped, but Callaway gave no indication he deemed Edward's bath methods incongruous. He caught Amanda's eye, jerked his head toward Edward again. Impatiently.

Highhanded arrogant bully
. “So Noelle isn’t here. Where's she gone?”

“She left me.” Edward lifted up the still-objecting Teddy, and wrapped him in a towel. “When she went to Las Vegas a few weeks ago, she said she wasn’t coming back.” He took a deep breath and looked directly at Amanda. “I guess she didn’t tell you. We’re getting a divorce.”

No, impossible!
The room whirled. Holding onto the table kept her from falling.

She hadn’t heard correctly. Edward had not said what she thought he had said.

Teddy's howls, that had tapered off once he was wrapped in the towel, started up again.

“Did you say you and Noelle are divorcing?” Amanda enunciated each word with special care.

“Yes.” Edward joggled Teddy to quiet him. “That's why she went to Las Vegas, to establish residence and file.”

“But you can’t be getting a divorce. You promised me you’d look after her.”

Amanda had talked to Edward bluntly before the marriage, telling him about Noelle’s emotional handicap and explaining what her care entailed. Edward, mature and comfortably settled in his native Birmingham, had still wanted to marry Noelle.

Edward might not be as handsome as some, but he was dependable, and his determination to look after Noelle had reassured Amanda. She'd been certain marriage to the sensible, older pharmacist was in Noelle’s best interests. And Noelle had wanted to marry him.

Now this.

“You promised me,” she repeated, wanting to cry.

Edward met her accusing gaze without flinching. “I know. I’m sorry, Amanda.”

“You couldn’t have tried hard enough.”

“I tried. Believe me.”

“Let me talk to her, make her see what she’s giving up,” Amanda begged. “You know she doesn’t always realize how things are until they’re spelled out.”

Edward shook his head. “It’s too late. I have to think of Teddy now. He doesn’t deserve a mother who’s never at home, who always puts her interests before his.”

How could she repudiate that?

“Edward, I'm sorry.” Her words were inadequate, not only for him, but for herself.

“I'm not.” Edward paused, debating how much to say. “I thought I could look after Noelle, give her a normal life, Amanda. But being married to someone with her problem is exhausting. With Teddy to think of now, I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t know how you stood it all those years.”

Noelle had left Edward and Edward wasn't sorry.

Amanda pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down heavily. The headache battled earlier returned in full force. Behind her, Callaway's vague form took a position that offered support.

Or reminded her she was a prisoner.

She
was
a prisoner.

No, she mustn't think about her situation. Noelle's problems were more important. Amanda had drugged and deceived a man to keep Noelle's family intact, but Noelle's family had disintegrated anyway.

Pull yourself together
. “Edward, you love Noelle. I can't believe that you'd let her go.”

“I do love her, but it’s her choice. I won’t fight it. I’m tired. I can’t work and look out for her every minute.” Once Edward started, discontent poured out. “I thought when Teddy was born, she'd settle down, but she got worse. She met these women who’re, uh, jet-set-wannabes, and she goes off with them all the time. Lately, she’s taken up gambling and God knows what else. I can’t keep up with what she does anymore.”

“She seemed so happy with you.” Amanda thought a minute. “What about Teddy? Noelle wouldn’t abandon Teddy?”

Edward’s mouth tightened. “Teddy’s been left with the nanny so much he cries for her. I told Noelle she couldn't have him, and she agreed it was best if he stays with me.”

“She left him? I can’t believe it.”

Edward's sad smile wrung her heart. “I’ve tried. We both have. But much as I love Noelle, and as much as she’s tried, I don’t think she’s capable of being a wife and mother. Now I have Teddy to worry about and I have to do what’s best for him.”

Amanda opened her mouth but was forestalled by a throat clearing behind her.

“I suppose there's a third party involved,” Callaway McIntyre said. “There usually is.”

In the shock of Edward's bombshell, she had forgotten Callaway. The weight of his hand settled on her shoulder. At first it felt comforting. Then she remembered why he was there.

“Another man?” Edward looked surprised. “You think Noelle went off with another man?”

“Do you know who it is?” Callaway prompted.

He didn’t have to blurt it out.

Although there was no way to phrase the question tactfully.

Edward knitted his brow. “She’s never said anything but then she wouldn’t, would she? I suppose there might be someone else. I’ve been so busy with work and Teddy that I never thought about it. Why do you care?”

“Where in Las Vegas is she?”

Teddy had managed to shed his towel and wriggle over Edward’s shoulder.

Edward retrieved him and got the towel back in place. “I have no idea. She called yesterday to see if I'd received the divorce decree, so that I would put money into her account.” He addressed Amanda. “I agreed to a lump sum settlement. All I asked was for her to relinquish custody of Teddy and to return my grandmother's ring. She sent me the ring, but I won't give her the money until I have the final divorce papers in hand confirming that Teddy remains in my custody.”

“Smart man,” Callaway commented. “With my first wife, I made the mistake of signing all the paperwork before my attorney saw it. Paid through the nose getting out of that one, let me tell you. If I'd only—”