by Nora Roberts
He could barely swallow, then realized it wasn’t necessary. The saliva in his mouth had dried up. “I was hired to investigate your mother.”
“But he was part of your investigation. How well did my father know him?”
Rooney’s jaw tightened. “To my knowledge, they were not acquainted.”
Outwardly cool, Kelsey merely lifted a brow. “He had no interest in the man his wife was allegedly having an affair with?”
“Estranged wife, and no, at that point in time Philip Byden was only interested in one thing. His child.”
“But when you reported to him—”
“I reported to his lawyers. Whether or not he read the copies they sent him, I can’t say. He didn’t want to be involved.” A small smile touched Rooney’s mouth. “He felt the idea of hiring an investigator was undignified.”
“But he did hire you?”
“Perhaps he felt the ends justified the means. I have another appointment. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“Why did my grandmother come here today?”
“That’s confidential.”
“She’s a client?”
“I can’t help you,” he said, spacing his words. But his eyes flicked to Gabe, then away.
Alone, Rooney sat behind his desk, steadying his breathing. He reached into his pocket and thumbed out a Tums that would do little to ease the burning in his gut.
How could it come back like this? After all these years. He’d gone by the book. He’d followed the book to the letter for twenty-three years. How could one night so long ago spring back at him like a tiger?
He started at the sound of his buzzer, then cursed himself. He wouldn’t help the situation if he let nerves rattle him. He answered the buzzer.
“Mr. Rooney. There’s a gentleman to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he claims to be an old friend. I’m to tell you it’s old Rich.”
“I don’t know any . . .” His mouth went dry again, his palms damp. For one frantic moment, Rooney looked around his office for a route of escape. There was none, he realized. He was as terminally hooked as the glass-eyed swordfish on his wall.
“Send him in, and hold my calls, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rich was beaming when he stepped into Rooney’s office. “Long time no see.”
“What do you want?”
Rich sat, propped his feet on the desk. “You’ve put on a little weight, Charlie. Looks good on you, though. Used to look a little like a scarecrow. Why don’t you buy an old pal a drink?”
“What do you want?” Rooney repeated.
“Well, you can start by telling me what my boy and that pretty lady of his wanted with you.” Rich drew out a cigarette. “We’ll work from there.”
“I don’t feel a whole lot better,” Kelsey said when they climbed back into the car. “Am I supposed to be glad that my father hired that man but kept himself distant so he wouldn’t soil his dignity? Or should I be relieved that he had nothing to do with Rooney, or Alec Bradley?”
“Maybe you should spend some time wondering why Rooney was so nervous.”
“Nervous? He seemed cold, remote, and annoyed, but not nervous.”
“He had his hands locked together to keep them still.” Gabe backed out of the parking space. “The air-conditioning was blasting in that office, but he was sweating. His jaw was locked so tight he had a tic at the corner of his mouth. He was bluffing his way through it.” Gabe paid the attendant, then eased back into the street. “But little things kept giving him away. And his eyes. He had the look of a man who’s holding trash but keeps bumping the pot.”
Curious, and fascinated, Kelsey studied him. “You get all that from gambling?”
“It’s a gift. Something’s got him spooked.”
“All we have to do is find out what.” She sighed. “I need a phone booth, Gabe. I think it’s time I rounded up the family.”
Milicent accepted the sherry her son poured her and, feeling magnanimous, patted his hand. “She’s finally come to her senses. Don’t look so concerned, Philip. I’m quite willing to put these past few months behind us. She’s a Byden, after all.” She sat back, sighed, sipped. “Blood will tell.”
“I certainly hope she’s brought Channing with her.” Candace paced to the window and flicked the lace curtain impatiently. “I see no reason why he should stay at that place if Kelsey’s coming home.”
“Channing’s doing what’s right for him.” Philip put a gentle hand on Candace’s shoulder. Part of her wanted to shrug it off, but another, deeper part couldn’t bear the thought of any more harsh words between them.
“I want him to be happy, Philip. You know I do.”
“Of course you do.”
“The boy will come around,” Milicent assured them. “It’s just youthful defiance, that’s all. And sentiment. A vet? Really, now. That will pass.”
She flicked Channing’s dream aside with one elegant hand. “Why, there was a time, if you can imagine it, when Philip was a boy—do you remember, dear?—and he wanted to be a baseball player. Of all things.”
“I remember,” he murmured. He’d been sixteen, eager, and despite his bookish appearance, he’d had an arm like a rocket. Of course, that dream had been aborted in its embryonic state. A Byden didn’t play professional sports. A Byden was a professional.
“Channing will listen to reason, just as Philip did. Your mistake, Candace dear, was in not asserting your authority.”
“Channing’s over twenty-one,” Candace said stiffly.
“A mother is always a mother.” Milicent’s smile settled comfortably when the doorbell chimed. “Ah, that will be the prodigal daughter now. Let her apologize first, Philip. She’ll feel better for it. Then we’ll have Cook kill the fatted calf.”
But Kelsey didn’t look apologetic when she entered the sitting room with Gabe at her side. She did smile at her father and go to him for a greeting kiss. Hoping to mend fences, she embraced Candace before turning to her grandmother.
“Thank you for seeing me.” She leaned down and kissed Milicent’s lightly powdered cheek. “Grandmother, Dad, Candace, this is Gabriel Slater. Gabe, Milicent, Candace, and Philip Byden.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Philip offered a hand.
“I don’t mean to be rude”—Milicent’s eyes were cold as they lingered on Gabe—“but I had the impression there was family business to be discussed.”
“Yes, there is. Old and new. I suppose I should start with the new. Gabe and I are going to be married.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Philip recovered. “Well, that’s . . . a surprise. A happy one.”
“A bombshell,” Candace corrected. “And just like you, Kelsey.” But she softened at the idea of orange blossoms. “Now I suppose sherry won’t do. We’ll have to have champagne.”
“I won’t have it.” Milicent spoke, her face bone-white beneath her rouge. “I won’t have this insulting behavior in my home.”
“Mother—” Philip began tentatively.
“My home,” she said again, thumping a fist on the arm of her chair. “Is this a slap at me?” she demanded of Kelsey. “A subtle insult? You would bring this person into my home, threaten to bring him into this family?”
Even knowing Milicent, Kelsey was shocked at the reaction. “It’s not a slap, an insult, or a threat. It’s a fact. We’re getting married in a few weeks, at Gabe’s home in Virginia. I’d like it very much if all of you would be there.”
“Of course we will.” Eager to smooth over the rough edges, Candace stepped in. “We’re all just a little flustered by the suddenness of the announcement, but we wouldn’t miss it for the world. I hope you’ll let me help you with some of the details.”
“Enough!” Milicent slammed her sherry down with a force that snapped the fragile stem. The remaining drops of amber liquid dripped down to spot the rug. “There is most certainly not going to be a wedding. Apparently, Kelsey, you’ve allowed yourself to be s
wayed by an attractive face. That’s foolish but not irrevocable.”
With an effort, she steadied her breathing and maintained her self-control. “There’s been no public announcement, so there will be nothing to tidy up. You”—she pointed at Gabe—“you can save yourself some embarrassment now by leaving.”
“I don’t think so,” he said evenly. “Embarrass me.”
“We’ll both go.” Trembling with rage, Kelsey took his hand. “This was a mistake. Whatever else I have to say to my grandmother I can say at another time. I shouldn’t have brought you here and subjected you to this.”
“Stop it.” Gabe brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed hers just above the ring. “Let her finish.”
“I’m going to ask you to let me apologize.” Philip moved between his mother’s chair and his daughter. “Certainly this has come as a surprise. It might be best if we talk about it later.”
“Don’t shield the girl.” Milicent rose and walked to a glossy Chippendale desk. “You’ve done that long enough. It’s time she learned to face facts.”
“I have been,” Kelsey murmured. “For some time now.”
“Then deal with these.” She drew out a file from the desk. “I’ve compiled quite a bit of information on you, Mr. Slater. Quite a bit. Professional gambler, ex-convict. The son of an itinerant drunkard with no visible means of support and a cleaning woman. A runaway who lived on the streets and spent time in jail for illegal gambling.”
She kept the file clutched in her hand as she studied Gabe with cold, condemning eyes. “You may have developed a taste for the finer things, and amassed some of them, but it doesn’t change who you are.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Gabe agreed. “Just as being born with them doesn’t change who you are.”
She slapped the file back on the desk. “Get out of my house.”
“Wait.” Kelsey’s hand closed convulsively around Gabe’s arm. “How dare you do this! How dare you pry into Gabe’s personal life! And mine!”
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect the Byden name. And you, despite this sudden attachment you’ve developed for that woman, are a Byden.”
“That woman is my mother. Did you put a dossier together on her as well?” she demanded. “Did you search for nasty little secrets to throw in my father’s face to try to keep him from marrying her?”
“It was, to my regret, one of the few times in his life he didn’t listen to me.”
The scene had been all too similar to this, Milicent remembered. Philip had actually shouted at her, and given her the ultimatum of accepting that woman or losing her own son.
“No, he didn’t listen,” she repeated. “And the results were disastrous.”
“I’m one of the results,” Kelsey tossed back. “Is that what you were doing in Rooney’s office this afternoon?”
Milicent used one arm to brace herself against the desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you. You hired him again, didn’t you? To spy on Gabe, to pry into his past.”
“It was just a necessary evil to compile information that would bring you to your senses,” Milicent defended.
“Well, you wasted your money. It doesn’t make any difference to me. I already know all of it.”
“Then you’re more your mother than I wanted to believe. You deserve what becomes of you.”
“You’re right.” Kelsey turned to her father. “Did you fall out of love with her, Dad? Or did you allow yourself to be shoved out of it?”
“Kelsey,” he said, his voice hoarse, because all at once he wasn’t sure of the answer, “what happened then, happened. I apologize with all my heart for this.” Rigid with shock and embarrassment, he looked at Gabe. “To both of you.”
“Apologize?” Milicent spat out. “I’ve told you the kind of man he is, the kind of man she’s using to humiliate this family, and you apologize.”
“Yes.” With sorrow in his eyes, Philip looked at his mother. “I apologize for you, for the fact that you’ve used the family name like a whip. A name that has always meant more to you than something as simple as happiness.”
Pale as death, Milicent gripped the edge of the desk. “I will not be spoken to like that, by my son, in my own home.” Her eyes flashed back to Kelsey. “She’s at the root of this. Naomi is the root of this.”
Kelsey nodded slowly. “Perhaps she is. I’m sorry. I won’t be back. Let’s go home, Gabe.”
“Kelsey.” Flushed pink, Candace dashed after them, stopping them at the door. “Please, don’t blame your father.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“He would never have allowed this to happen if he’d known . . . surely you know what kind of man he is.”
Kelsey looked into Candace’s worried eyes. “Yes, I do. You know, I always thought how well you and Dad were suited. How you complemented each other, filled in the blanks.” Leaning forward, she kissed Candace softly on the cheek. “I didn’t realize until right now how much you love him. I should have. Tell him I’ll call him later, all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I will. And, Kelsey?” Her smile was a little crooked, but it was there. “Best wishes, to both of you.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
“QUITE A FAMILY YOU’VE GOT THERE, DARLING.”
“Okay, Gabe.” Once he’d parked in the drive at Three Willows, Kelsey got out of the car and closed her door with deliberate care. “This isn’t the time to get cute.”
“No, I mean it. I let you rant half the way home, and stew the other half. That ought to finish it.”
She wasn’t nearly finished. “It wasn’t just about me. It wasn’t really about me at all. It was about you.”
“Hell.” In an easy motion, he swung an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve had a lot worse tossed at me. She didn’t bring up the showgirl in Reno, or the business in El Paso.”
“That’s hardly the point.” She stopped dead on the first step. “What showgirl?”
“Got your attention.” He gave her an almost brotherly squeeze. “Anyway, I liked your father, and your stepmother. That’s two for three.”
Baffled, she could only stare up at him. “You’re not even angry. You’re not even angry over what she did. Gabe, she hired a detective to pry into your life, to put together a file on you as though you were some kind of criminal.”
“And what did she accomplish, Kelsey? You already knew the worst of me, and you defended even that. It makes my laying my cards out on the table up front the best gamble I ever took.”
“It doesn’t excuse what she did.”
“But it makes what she did meaningless. Look, maybe I understand, a little, because I never had a family name to defend.”
Now she stopped in her tracks. “You’re standing up for her?”
“No. But I figure she made the wrong move. And it ended up costing her a lot more than it cost me.”
She blew at her bangs. “Maybe I need a little more time to be open-minded. Get my dress out of the car, will you? At least we can make one person happy today when I show it to Naomi.”
“Why don’t I take you both out to dinner?” He rubbed his thumb over the ring on her finger. He liked seeing it there. “Celebrate?”
“Why don’t you? I’ll go tell her.”
She hurried into the house, giving herself one quick shake, a gesture to toss off the worst of the day. She was halfway up the stairs when Naomi called her.
“Oh, there you are.” One hand trailing along the banister, Kelsey rushed down again. “You were absolutely right about the dress. Gabe’s getting it out of the car, then he’s going to take us out to dinner. Should we see if we can drag Moses away from the barn?”
Naomi stood in the foyer, her hands clasped. “We need to talk. It might be better if we sat down.”
