The Good Daughter (16 page)

Tino laughed. “Beer,
ése.
That piece of tail is messin’ with your mind.”

“Oh—yeah.” Hector glanced at Vince, but his gaze kept straying back to the stage. “I guess Corona’s all right. With a shot.” He struggled to act unaffected, but despite the meat-locker air-conditioning, sweat popped out on his forehead.

Vince gave their order and leaned back, his own gaze darting toward the stage. He must be getting old. The fake tits and stiletto heels would once have had his eyes bugging, too, but here, surrounded by women prepared to offer a man whatever he wanted, he was unmoved. Yet, a glimpse of Chloe’s vulnerable nape had the power to make him rock-hard in the blink of an eye.

The legs of Vince’s chair hit the floor with a thud. Even as the thought of Chloe intruded, he shoved it away. To think of her while in this place almost seemed a sacrilege.

What was he going to do about her? He’d never made love to a virgin in his life; now it was all he could think about now—and not, as would once have been the case, because she was a challenge. She was more than that—she scared the hell out of him. The responsibility of initiating her into lovemaking broke him out in a cold sweat worse than anything Hector Balderas could possibly feel.

With ruthless force, Vince dispatched thoughts of Chloe St. Claire. He had no business focusing on her now. Moreno was what had to matter.

The beers arrived, and Vince endured a conversation, if you could call it that, with Hector and Tino that would never have bothered him before, comparing the body parts and probable sexual skills of the various dancers while he bided his time, softening Hector up, giving him a chance to relax.

Vince tuned out Hector’s negotiations for a lap dance and let his gaze scan the room.

And froze as he saw Jerry Akers across the way, staring at him, obviously wondering why he was in here with a couple of lowlifes when he wasn’t cleared for duty yet.

Lousy damn luck. They’d come to a place not favored by a local gang on purpose. Why Akers was in this bar, Vince didn’t know, but he’d still wonder about Vince’s companions.

Playing it cool, Vince nodded and turned away. He leaned forward. “All right, enough,” he ordered. “Bye, babe,” he told the dancer, who shrugged, removed Hector’s hands from her hips and strolled off.

“Hey,” Hector complained, obviously half-gone from too many beer-and-shot combinations. He turned glittering eyes to Vince. “I wasn’t finished,
cabrón.
” His voice got louder as he leaped to his feet. His chair clattered to the floor, and heads turned. “Who the hell you think you are? You’re just a damn—”

“Outside. Now.” Vince rose and walked out, ignoring
Hector’s outburst, hoping he’d shut up before he drew any more attention.

He didn’t. Instead, Hector grabbed Vince’s arm and jerked. “You don’t tell me what to do, man. You need me. I don’t need you.” He doubled his fists, wire-tight with insult.

Vince longed to coldcock the little worm but merely lifted an eyebrow. “You want my help with your brother or not?” The last thing he needed was the spotlight.

Hector looked confused, then frowned. “Yeah, but—”

“Then get the hell outside. Now.” Vince gave Hector his back again.

After a long moment, Hector followed.

W
HAT A WASTE
, Vince thought an hour later as he pulled into his driveway. He leaned his head against the seat and rubbed eyes raw from cigarette smoke and too little sleep.

Once on the front porch, Vince stuck his key in the dead bolt. It wasn’t locked.

He backed away, immediately alert. Stepping to the side, he listened carefully for sounds out of place. Then he slipped off the porch and rounded the house, staying well below the windows.

He hadn’t left a dead bolt unlocked in years.

He crept across the back porch, every sense tingling. At the door, he tried the knob first, then slid the key noiselessly into the lock, turning it with intricate care. He eased into the kitchen, then paused. Absolute silence greeted him.

Something didn’t feel right, though.

Eyes adjusting to the moonlight spilling through the windows, Vince scanned each room as he came to it. A small sound from the living room stopped him. He didn’t recognize it.

His off-duty weapon was in the coat closet, too far away for him to reach.

That sound again.

Suddenly, Vince smiled and moved toward the source of the noise. Standing to the side, though it might be an unnecessary caution, he quickly opened the door.

“Mrrrr-oowwww,”
the prisoner complained, twining around Vince’s feet.

Vince flipped on the nearest lamp. “What happened to you, guy?” He perused the room. Nothing obviously out of place, yet his scalp prickled.

Someone had been in his house.

The cat’s ears twitched; his tail flicked back and forth. Vince bent over and picked him up. The tomcat growled, then turned, golden eyes blinking. Scratching the animal behind his ears, Vince felt the cat relax by inches; finally, he purred.

“Sure wish you could talk, fella. I’d like to know what you saw.” He stared into the closet and thought. It took a minute for something to register.

His weapon was gone.

“Hell.” His heart sank. Setting the cat down, he observed the room again. Everything looked as it had when he’d left this morning.

But it didn’t feel the same.

He saw nothing else missing as he moved through the house. When he opened his bureau drawers, subtle disarray greeted him. His place had been tossed by the best. They’d been thorough. What were they looking for?

And who were they?

He could only think of bad scenarios to explain the missing weapon. His fingerprints were all over it; a careful thief could use it in the commission of a crime and no other prints but Vince’s would show up. The back of his neck tingled in horror. Who had been here, and what was the agenda?

The obvious thing to do was to report the break-in; yet something within him resisted. He’d dust for prints himself, but he already knew what he’d find—

The absent traces of someone who did not wish Vince Coronado well.

The suspects were legion.

Moreno and Don Newcombe were good places to start.

Vince headed for his car to get his gloves and fingerprint dust. Just as he opened the front door, the phone rang.

His hand stilled on the door frame. His heart sped up its pace. He debated not answering.

Three rings. Four. Swearing under his breath, Vince crossed the room quickly, and snatched up the receiver to his ear.

He didn’t say a word, though. Just waited.

A tinny, mechanical whine spilled through the line. “It can get worse.” The too-even cadence of an artificial voice grated on his ears.

Vince said nothing.

“Back off.”
Click.

Vince stared at the receiver long after the dial tone began. Then he looked out at the darkness and felt bleak certainty claw its way up from his belly.

It can get worse.

Though he didn’t know how, he never doubted it would.

“C
HLOE…
”
Her mother stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the marble entry, her posture, for a change, not so regal or commanding.

Chloe managed a smile born of honest sympathy. Her father’s illness and the revelation of her adoption had taken their toll on her mother. “It will be all right, Mother. I promise.” Then she did something out of character for the two of them. She retraced her steps across the porch and hugged her mother.

And Dolores St. Claire, for once in her life, clung. If Chloe had needed proof of how afraid her mother was of losing her, she didn’t anymore.

She drew back to a safer distance but grasped her mother’s hand in hers. “I want to meet them. I want very much to know them.” How much that was true betrayed itself in her voice. There was a hunger growing within Chloe by the day to find these lost traces of who she really was. “I try to understand why you lied to me about my past and not feel so angry—” Chloe clutched in her hand the piece of paper on which her father had jotted her middle sister’s phone number, glancing away until her voice was once again under control. Then she
continued in a careful tone, “I want to forgive you. I just—” She was forced to pause a second time.

But instead of calming, her agitation increased. The sense of betrayal overwhelmed her. “I’m sorry, it’s too soon.”

Before she could say something she’d regret, Chloe dropped her mother’s hand and fled.

F
IRST
, she sat at the graceful Queen Anne writing desk, ankles crossed, back straight, and picked up the phone to dial.

She got through six digits, but her hands were shaking so much she missed a number. With a quick stab, she hit the Off button and dropped the phone to the desktop. She sagged against the back of the chair, breathing too hard.

Ivy’s name was Galloway now—she’d married a wealthy man named Linc Galloway and had a baby, the investigator had said. A little girl named Amelia Caroline Galloway, for her other sister.

Not after me,
Chloe thought. But why should she be? Ivy didn’t know Chloe. Maybe she’d even forgotten her younger sister existed.

Please. Please want me.
Chloe stared at the phone. It would be so much easier to take her father up on his offer to make the first approach. Then she could know without having to face any rejection firsthand.

I never took you for a coward, Doc.
Vince’s smiling challenge rose in her mind.

I’m scared, Vince. Really scared.
Chloe bent over,
sucking great gasps of air in and blowing them out, seeking a calm that had never felt more distant.

Do it now. You have to know, either way.

She jumped up from the desk and grabbed the phone, heading for the safety of the chair in which Vince had held her while she cried. Clasping the bedraggled scrap of paper in her finger, she huddled against the cushions and wished they were Vince’s comforting embrace. Before she could let herself think too hard, she punched in the numbers and listened to the phone ring, gripping the receiver in her hand.

A man’s deep voice answered. “Hello?”

Chloe could hear a baby’s gurgling laughter.

“Ow,” the man yelped. “Let go of Daddy’s ear, Amelia, honey.” He exhaled as if in relief. “Hello?”

Amelia. The baby was real. Her
niece.

“Is anyone there?” His voice grew impatient.

Linc. His name was Linc. Chloe sat frozen.

Then a woman’s voice sounded in the background. “Who is it? Want me to take her?”

Ivy. Was that Ivy?

“It’s no one,” he answered, his voice fading, as though he was about to hang up.

“Wait,” Chloe said softly, then louder. “Wait, please—hello?”

“Hello?” he said again. “Who is this?”

“It’s—” Chloe’s throat closed up tight.

“Forget it,” he growled. “Prank call someone else.”

“No, wait, it’s—I’m Chloe. I’m—” How could she explain to this stranger she’d angered?

“Chloe?” He sounded dumbfounded. A long pause
ensued. “My God. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

It was her turn to be stunned. Words wouldn’t come.

“Hello?”

“I—” She cleared her throat. “Do you mean it?”

A soft chuckle emerged. “Ivy has been frantic to find you. She’ll be—” A woman’s voice sounded in the background. “Sweetheart, it’s your sister. It’s Chloe.”

Chloe strained to hear her sister’s voice. She chewed at her lip, barely daring to breathe.

“Hold on. For the first time since I met her, Ivy is speechless.” Amusement rang in his tone. “Wait—here, love, let me take Amelia—” His voice faded.

But Chloe was still trying to absorb what he’d said.
We’ve been looking everywhere for you.

“Chloe?” The woman’s voice came on the phone now, sweet and tremulous. “Is—is it really you?”

Chloe swallowed. “Yes, it’s—” Her throat closed up again.

“How did you find me—oh, Chloe, I’ve missed you so much. My word, Caroline will be pea green with envy. We have to come see—where are you—oh, Linc, it’s her, it’s—”

Then she laughed, but Chloe could hear tears, too. “I’m sorry. I’m babbling. I’m just so thrilled….” She paused. “Are you still there?”

“I—” Chloe could barely speak past her own tears. “You—you wanted to find me? You didn’t…forget me?” She clapped one hand over her mouth, stifling the sob trying to break free.

“Forget you? Never—oh, where are you, sweetie? Where have you been? It was as if you’d vanished from the earth.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I—I only was told two days ago that I had sisters, that I was adopted.”

“Oh, my word. You poor thing. Caroline and I were separated, too. We only found each other recently.” Ivy paused. “I’ve thought about you every day. I tried to stop them from taking you, but they said that I was selfish for keeping you from a family who’d shower you with everything Caroline and I could never provide. Maybe I should have run away with you, but I was only thirteen and they wouldn’t—there hasn’t been a day since then that I haven’t regretted not finding a way to—” Ivy’s voice broke.

Ivy wanted her. Had always wanted her. The enormity of that had Chloe reeling. “I’m sorry,” she said, tears flooding. “Sorry I—I forgot you. I don’t know how that could have happened. I always wanted a sister, and all along I—” Her throat became too full to continue.

“Oh, honey.” Ivy’s voice was all tenderness and no rebuke. “You were so little. You can’t be expected to remember things that happened then. I should have been able to find you—”

“No. You couldn’t have,” Chloe said. “My…parents made certain of that.”

“Why would they—” Ivy broke off. “I apologize. Of course they had the right and it’s not my—”

“Pride,” Chloe said, aching. “He couldn’t father children and didn’t want anyone to know. My mother did it to protect him.”

“So many years…” Ivy trailed off, and once again they were silent, pondering.

“Are they good to you, Chloe?” Her voice was strained. “Was your life—”

Chloe thought of what Ivy had said about letting her go so that she’d have a better lot and knew that whatever her reservations, she couldn’t let them show. “I’ve been sheltered and given every luxury. I’ve had so much—too much, really.”
Except my family. My past.

“Oh, I hope they’ve treated you like a princess. You were such a beautiful little girl, always so sweet and serious.”

Chloe tried to absorb the idea that here was someone who knew her before she remembered herself.

“I’ve got a million questions. Where are you? What’s your last name? I want to know everything that’s happened over these years, and I want to see you—oh, my goodness, Caroline’s going to be so amazed—”

Chloe smiled as Ivy’s enthusiasm bubbled over again. “My last name is St. Claire, and I’m a psychologist with the Austin Police Department.”

Ivy gasped. “I lived in Austin for five years. How could I have been in the same town and never—oh, Chloe…”

“We’re not far apart now, just a couple of hours away. Where is Caroline? I want to see you both.”

“Caroline’s…well, some of the time she and Diego are in Dallas and sometimes in a little village in far West Texas called La Paloma. She’s a doctor.”

“Diego’s her—”

“Husband. He’s an amazing man. Once he was a
Special Forces medic, but he’s also into alternative-healing methods. She was in an accident, and when she met him, he was taking care of the poor people in La Paloma, while she was a high-powered cardiac surgeon at Mercy Hospital in Dallas. They’ve joined forces now and have clinics in both places. He’s so good for her.”

“I’m glad. What about you? Linc sounds wonderful.”

“He is. He’s, well, he’s just…everything. I can’t wait to introduce you. Oh, Chloe, when can I see you?” Without waiting for an answer, Ivy rolled on. “I’m going to call Caroline and then I’ll pack up my family and we’ll be on the road—” She stopped suddenly. “That is, if it’s okay.” She sounded as uncertain as Chloe had felt.

“You can’t know how much I want that, but—”

“It’s all right,” Ivy filled in quickly. “Maybe it’s too soon.”

“No, Ivy, I desperately want to see you. It’s just that things are…complicated right now. My… parents…and there’s this man, and he’s in trouble—”

“I’m sorry.” Ivy’s voice held both tears and laughter. “Of course you have a whole life without us and naturally your…parents must be considered.”

“I want to know you, Ivy. So badly.”

Ivy’s tone was warm and comforting. “I believe you, and we’ll be there just as soon as you’re ready, or you can come here if you’d prefer. You decide what’s best for you.”

“I can’t begin to convey what it means to me that—” Chloe’s voice broke. “I have a sister. You’re real, not imaginary,” she whispered.

“Oh, honey, you have a whole family now. Two sisters, two handsome new brothers and a little girl who looks a lot like you did as a baby.”

“Really?” Chloe’s eyes overflowed then.

“Truly. I love that about her. What do you look like now? I know your eyes are brown, but is your hair still blond? How tall are you?” Ivy was picking up steam again, when a shriek sounded behind her. “Oh, dear. Amelia thinks that her needs take precedence. I have to nurse her, Chloe. I don’t want to stop talking, but she’ll never settle down if I’m on the phone and so excited.”

“Go ahead,” Chloe urged. “I could visit with you all night, but she has to come first. Hand the phone to Linc, and I’ll give him my phone number. I want to see you, Ivy, all of you, as soon as possible. In the meantime, call me at any hour.”

Ivy laughed. “I’ll try my best not to call you in the middle of the night, but I’m not sure how much sleep I’m going to get after this. Thank you so much for finding me. I’ve missed you like the dickens.” Her voice thickened. “Oh, dear, here I go again. You get some sleep, sweetie, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you, Chloe.” Then she was gone.

I love you.
Chloe bowed her head and let the tears fall.

“Chloe?” Linc’s deep voice was kind and gentle now. “You all right?”

She sniffed and wished for a tissue. “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

He laughed, and she thought she was really going to like this man who was now part of her family. Her
family.
“Ivy’s over the moon,” he said. “She’s wanted this for so very long. Family is everything to her. I’d be one lonely, bitter man if I hadn’t met her. Instead, I’m rich because I have Ivy and Amelia, and now our circle can be complete.”

“Oh, Linc, I can’t wait to meet all of you. I was so afraid—”

“You never have to fear Ivy. She’s got enough love for the whole world. Your heart will be in good hands.”

Somehow Chloe believed that. She and Linc spoke a little longer and exchanged phone numbers, office, home and cell, before she reluctantly let him go.

She curled up in the chair, cradling the phone to her chest as if it held her new family in it. Her heart was so full she felt it might explode. Overflow with the riches of knowing that soon so many questions would be answered. She sat there for long moments, alternately smiling and crying, trying to make herself go to bed and rest up so that she could tackle figuring out how to carve time in her caseload so that she’d be free to meet her sisters.

Sisters.

She couldn’t go to bed yet. She craved lights and people, not the too-quiet walls of her house.

She was going to get that dog and name him Charlie. She needed a companion.

Even in her present state, Chloe could smile at the idea. She didn’t really have time for a dog, but she wanted somewhere to expend this love that had been buried inside her so long that she’d thought it dried to dust.

Then it hit her. She had sisters to love now, and a niece. Two brothers-in-law. Chloe swiped at her cheeks, wishing she had someone she could talk to about this new and terrible longing that threatened to eat her alive.

And suddenly she knew exactly where she was going.

Even if it was too late at night. And he might be entertaining a female companion. Given that he was a walking female fantasy, it was entirely likely.

At the thought, Chloe almost turned back. She could wind up humiliated.

But for once she was going to take a risk.

In minutes, Chloe was in her car, nearly to Vince’s house, telling herself that she’d just drive by. If the lights were off, she’d keep going. If the lights were blazing…

Maybe. Maybe she’d stop.

Only one faint light glowed. No convenient signs left by fate as an inescapable decision.

Chloe pulled to the curb but didn’t cut off her engine. For the first time in years, she chewed at a fingernail, pondering the idiocy of going any further.

Do you always choose safety?

After ripping the nail away, Chloe turned the key and let the silence swell and overtake her. Knuckles white on the handle, she opened the car door and stepped out. Before she could lose her nerve, she hurried up the walk, concentrating on the concrete sidewalk beneath her feet, then the porch steps. She lifted her hand to knock—

A hand closed over her mouth. She was bodily lifted from her feet and torn from light into darkness.