Another Man's Son

by Glenys O'Connell

  He had done his duty for his country. Now he was a law officer whose duty it was to put his personal life on the back burner to concentrate on helping to crush a criminal hierarchy. Even now, as he rode his motorcycle through the growing dawn to see Kathryn Morgan, he told himself he was just doing his duty and could put his own feelings aside.

  The housekeeper answered his knock at the Morgan mansion’s door and showed him out to a patio where he found Kathryn seated at a small glass table, dressed in simple jeans and a sweater. Tears stained her cheeks and she was holding a letter—a letter he quickly recognised as one of many he had written to her—letters she said she’d never received.

  She was staring at the words as if she`d never seen them before.

  “You told me you had never received my letters.” His voice sounded harsh with disappointment, even to him.

  She looked up, startled, as if she`d been unaware of his presence. The green of her eyes was magnified by the tears that pooled there.

  “Oh, Ben, if I had only known…” She broke off as Cynthia returned, carrying a tray with a teapot, milk, sugar, cups, and a small plate of cookies.

  “Is everything all right, Mrs. Morgan?” Her words were stiffly formal, warning Kathryn that Ket was up and about.

  “Yes, thank you, Cynthia. I expect Sheriff Asher will be grateful for tea, since he’s out and about so early.”

  “Shall I ask Mr. Ket to join you?” The housekeeper eyed Ben warily. Did she think Kathryn needed her husband for protection? Or to offer her an alibi? Ignoring the tea tray—he was too angry for such a civilised ritual, Ben’s eyes went once more to the small pile of letters by Kathryn’s hand.

  “No, that’s fine. I think I’d rather not disturb him.” Kathryn’s eyes flickered toward Ben but he couldn’t read the message in them.

  When the housekeeper left, Kathryn turned to him. “These are the letters you sent, but I never received them. Ket ordered his secretary, Andrew Shepherd, to intercept and burn them.” She raised an eyebrow as Ben swore softly. “For some reason, Andrew kept them. He and I just had a long talk and he returned the letters to me.”

  “So all these years, you thought I’d abandoned you, forgotten you?” Emotion tightened his throat and he could hardly get the words out.

  “I married Ket because I was pregnant with your child. He found me crying one day in the office when I thought everyone had left. I told Ket you had abandoned us. I’d just had an ultrasound and showed him the picture of my baby boy. Oh, Ben, I was so frightened and alone. Lobster Cove’s not the kind of place where single mothers can thrive, and Dad was no help at all.

  “So when Ket offered to marry me and accept the child as his, I felt like I’d been thrown a lifeline. When he said it would be a marriage in name only, I thought he was just trying to spare my feelings but was relieved because I knew I would never love him. I also knew my son would be well cared for and have a better future as a Morgan than he would as the illegitimate grandchild of the town drunk.” Her mouth twisted. “How wrong I was.”

  Ben ached to reach for her, to hold her in his arms and whisper soothing words into her hair. Knowing now that she had never received his letters had lifted a huge weight of pain from his heart, and there was still so much to talk about.

  But he had a job to do, and this mansion was full of watching eyes. Kathryn was a witness to a murder and a possible witness to the Morgans’ criminal activities. He had to get her away from the Morgan Mausoleum to keep her safe.

  “I want you to come to the station and give your statement about Hanover’s murder, Kathryn, and answer some questions.” She nodded.

  There’d be time for talking later. Even so, as Kathryn climbed up behind him on the Harley, as she wrapped her arms around his chest to hold on, he couldn’t help but think of how different their story might have been.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Now that she knew Ben had not abandoned her and their child, Kathryn felt as if the weight of years had fallen away. She was eager to talk some more with Ben, eager to see if what they once had together was still there. Lord knows, she knew she still loved him.

  But the most important thing now was to find their child and bring him home safely.

  She kept her rising temper in check all through the hours she was at the Lobster Cove police station. She gave her statement to a deferential young police officer, who nonetheless asked awkward questions about the events surrounding Bertie Hanover’s death. Then she was left alone with nothing to do except stare at the gray sky through the barred windows and wonder who had chosen the dull green paint that increased the claustrophobic effect in the small room. Cut off from the activity going on outside the room, she began to feel more like a suspect and less like a witness.

  Time was passing and the more they waited the more danger there was to her son. Hadn’t she read somewhere that the chances of recovering a kidnap victim diminished rapidly after the first forty-eight hours or so? Recovering the victim alive, that is.

  Nausea rose in her gullet. Sweet, funny Alex, with his affectionate ways. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of the staunch way her son had tried to stand up for her against the angry barbs Ket threw at her, the way the child’s shoulders had sagged under the burden of his father’s contempt. A burden the child couldn’t understand and wasn’t his to bear.

  She’d been alone in the interview room now for what seemed like eons. Hadn’t she answered all their questions? What more could she do? If she didn’t get out of here soon and resume her search for Alex, Kathryn was sure she’d spring out of her own skin. Just sitting there, staring at the grubby marks on the table and the wanted posters on the walls, while people passing stared at her through the open door, was making her crazy.

  A bitter smile curled her lips. The sight of Mrs. Ketler Morgan, Junior, trying to sit with dignity on the hard plastic chair in the police station would surely provide a feast of gossip in this small town. Not that she cared any more.

  While one side of her mind was wrung out with worry about her son, the other was rejoicing in the sweet relief of knowing that Ben had never intended to abandon her. The letters he had written were full of words of love and plans for their future when he returned and finished his time in the military. He was training in mechanics, he told her, and wanted to open his own business when he was back in civilian life. His letters spoke of the home he wanted to build for them and were peppered with words that reflected their lovemaking, words that made her belly grow hot as she read them.

  The long years of compromise as Ket Morgan’s wife seemed like a bad dream from which she was awakening. Her breath caught in her throat, remembering the tender look on Ben’s face as he’d listened to her story about the letters he’d written to her. Soon all these troubles to be over and they’d have time to explore all the missing years.

  But first they must find Alex. Their son. Sitting in this cold room, listening to the comings and goings of law officers, the ringing phones, the complaints of citizens wanting police action was not bringing Alex home. Ben was swamped with work and responsibility. She knew he put finding Alex high on his list, but he was working on the assumption the kidnapping and Hanover’s murder were connected.

  Maybe that was so, but she was darned if she could see it. And she couldn’t wait any longer for the legal machinery to grind forward. Alex couldn’t wait any longer.

  She’d do whatever it took to find him.

  Whatever it took to make Ben believe they could be a real family.

  Family. That was a word that didn’t belong in her relationship with the Morgans. They had never regarded her as part of the family. To Ket, she was just a convenient prop to shield his other activities from prying eyes. Alex was the only reason he’d married her—a son provided him with powerful leverage with his own father.

  To Ket’s father, she was little more than a brood mare who’d fulfilled her purpose in giving him an heir to ensure the Morgan name continued. Why hadn’t she taken Alex and w
alked out on Ket years ago? All she would have had to have done was tell Morgan Senior the truth—that Alex was no blood of his. The old man would have been furious, but it wasn’t likely he would have stopped her and the boy leaving. Far more likely, in fact, he would have ordered them gone.

  With a shudder, she remembered the brutal sneer on her husband’s face, the look of cruel pleasure when he hurt her.

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Morgan?”

  At the sound of Tess Highland’s voice, Kathryn pulled herself back into the here and now. “Yes, yes, although a cup of coffee would be nice. Do you think the wait will be much longer?”

  The secretary smiled conspiratorially. “Well, I understand Ben…er, acting Sheriff Asher asked that you wait here until he’s finished some of his enquiries, so it could be a while. He’s gone to see your husband, of course, and then to see Alfred Morris. You probably know him, the Morgan company bookkeeper? Although what he could have had to do with this, I don’t know. I guess he would have known Mr. Hanover. Maybe you’d like something to eat while you wait?”

  Kathryn’s stomach clenched at the very thought of food, her senses still clouded by the visceral memory of Bertie Hanover’s head exploding just feet from her own face. “No, thank you. Just a cup of coffee would be wonderful.”

  “It must have been a terrible shock for you, and such a coincidence, too…you being there when Mr. Hanover was murdered.”

  Kathryn looked away. Tess had inadvertently put into words the thoughts that were zooming around in her own head. “I’d just called there on an errand for my husband,” she lied. “Yes, it was an awful shock. For Mr. Hanover, too, I’d imagine.”

  Amazing at how easy it was to slip into her cool, high society I-am-Mrs.-Ketler-Morgan manner and use lies to maintain the appearance of respectability. Her attempt at wry humor was lost on Tess and didn’t do much to cover up her own feelings of unease.

  Had she actually been the gunman’s target, not Hanover? Had her husband paid a killer to remove the problem of his unwanted wife?

  “It must have been really horrible, seeing a man killed like that.”

  Kathryn stood, grimacing at Tess’s lack of tact. “It’s not really something I want to talk about,” she said coldly. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Perhaps you’d get me that coffee?”

  ****

  “Who does she think she is, putting on airs and graces like that? Just because she married into money, she’s still a piss-poor kid whose dad’s the town drunk. No better than the rest of us, if you want my opinion.”

  “I think those are the kind of opinions you ought to keep to yourself.” Ben snapped as he came into the room just in time to see hear Tess and see her slam the coffee pot so hard onto the machine it was a wonder if didn’t break.

  Tess jumped guiltily, coffee grounds spilling from the measuring cup and onto the counter.

  “Look what you made me do! You shouldn’t creep up on people like that!”

  Ben tamped down his irritation and grabbed a sponge from the sink. As he wiped up a few stray coffee crumbs, he commented, “There, hardly a disaster. Could you please wait five minutes and then send Mrs. Morgan in to my office? I wouldn’t mind a cup of that, when you’ve finishing haranguing the coffee machine. Oh, and Tess? It’s not a good sign when people start talking to themselves.” He started for the lunch room door.

  Despite his irritation, he laughed as he heard her parting shot. “I only do it when there’s no one more intelligent to talk to.”

  He’d asked Tess to bring Kathryn into his office from the interview room in five minutes, but lost track of time as the phones rang continually and deputies made reports. In the outer office, he could hear Tess in the background, answering the phone and chatting animatedly. After all, it wasn’t everyday they had a murder in Lobster Cove and no doubt everyone wanted to know what was happening.

  He leaned back from his desk to stretch cramped muscles and grimaced as he heard snatches of Tess’s phone conversations. She loved a good gossip and today he thought her chitchat might actually help bring in some tips from the public about either Hanover’s murder or Alex’s disappearance. But when he glanced at the clock and realised how long Kathryn had been waiting, a tingle of unease slipped down his spine.

  “Tess, didn’t I ask you to fetch Mrs. Morgan into my office? With coffee?” he called through the open door.

  He heard a clatter as Tess poured coffee and the clink of cups as she headed toward the interview room. But instead of returning with Kathryn, he heard her heels clack on the corridor toward the ladies’ room.

  Intuition made him get up and follow her. A glance into the interview room told him Kathryn wasn’t there. Ben drew in a sharp breath, twin emotions of anger and fear for Kathryn causing his pulse to race. With the air of a man striving for patience, he enunciated carefully, “What’s going on, Tess?”

  His secretary whirled around at the door to the bathroom, her eyes frantic. “I’m so sorry boss. I think Mrs. Morgan came down here. She was looking kind of green and I thought she was maybe going to get sick.”

  He clicked his teeth with impatience. “Well, why don’t you open the door and check on her? It’s not something I should do…go into the ladies’ bathroom.”

  Tears stood out in Tess’s eyes. “What if she’s ill and lying on the floor and it’s my fault for not keeping track of her?”

  Unable to wait longer, his heart pounding at the thought that Kathryn could be ill or worse, he pushed past Tess and flung the door open. The small room and the two cubicles were empty.

  Kathryn Morgan had disappeared.

  Ben glanced at the big, round-faced clock on the wall in his office. Where is Kathryn? He’d just come back from a very uncomfortable interview with Kathryn’s husband and an even more uncomfortable interview with Kathryn’s father-in-law, and he was in no mood for civilian heroics.

  Dammit, when he asked the woman to do something, he expected her to do it. The last time Kathryn Morgan had ignored his orders to stay out of the kidnap investigation and let him do his job, Lobster Cove’s First Lady had wound up in the front lines of a contract killing. Now she was no doubt off somewhere playing Nancy Drew again. “Kathryn is off, probably putting her life on the line even after I told her to stay put. My secretary talks to herself and ignores my instructions. What the hell is going on here? Seems my authority quotient is at an all-time low.” Ben muttered to himself and reached out to flick on the intercom switch. Tess came in through the office door, white-faced.

  “What now?” he snapped, anxiety gnawing at him even as her face turned even paler.

  “I’ve called everyone I can think of, and the guys have been out cruising the streets. There’s no sign of Mrs. Morgan, Sheriff Asher. She’s gone!” She sniffed back tears. “This is all my fault! I blabbed private inquiries all over the radio and maybe got that Hanover character killed, and now I’ve lost a very important witness. Are you going to fire me?”

  For a brief moment, Ben considered the idea to be the best he’d heard all day. But looking at his secretary’s tear-stained face, he shrugged. “I don’t think that’s up to me, Tess. Maybe Sheriff Lawton will talk to you when she gets back.”

  Ben drew another deep breath and said quietly, “And where were all the police officers when this was going on? Wasn’t someone supposed to be sitting with her?”

  “There was a car crash out on the highway, so Bill and Andy are still out there. One of the guys is out sick with that stomach bug. The rest are tied up on the Hanover shooting.”

  Ben nodded tightly. “And no-one thought to mention the officer shortage to me?” Even as he spoke, he knew it was his responsibility in the final analysis. He’d dropped the ball and now he had to pick up the pieces. “Who took Mrs. Morgan’s statement? I assume that order, at least, was carried out in the proper way?”

  “Yes, Sheriff, Jesse did that.”

  “And where is it? I don’t see it on my desk.”

  Tess blushed. Ben
sighed in exasperation. “Tell Jesse to come in. And Tess, you didn’t happen to mention anything to Mrs. Morgan about the investigation, did you?”

  Tess’s eyes widened. “No, sir, whatever would I have to tell her?”

  He could almost have laughed if he hadn’t been so angry. “Well, for example, you could have mentioned, just in conversation, where I was?”

  The secretary’s white face was transformed to a bright red. “Oh, my god. She asked why it was taking so long. I said you’d asked for her to wait until you got in but that you could be a while because you were going to see her father-in-law and then Alfred Morris.”

  Ben could feel his pulse thundering loudly in his ears. She’d told Kathryn about Alfred Morris and now Kathryn was missing. It wasn’t hard to guess she’d gone off on her own crusade to save Alex.

  Tess’s bravado failed her and tears sprang to her eyes again as she realised the enormity of what she may have done. “I am so sorry, Sheriff Asher….I didn’t think….I’ll watch my mouth in future...”

  Ben’s snort showed her what he thought of her promise. He glared stonily at her. “Send Jesse in with Mrs. Morgan’s statement. And Tess, you and I will have another little chat about confidentiality in police work later.”

  The woman swallowed hard, nodded, and scurried back to her desk.

  Ben collapsed onto his chair, his strong fingers massaging the throbbing ache in his temples. What a mess this was all turning out to be. He’d wanted Kathryn kept at the station for her own safety, but instead she was out wandering alone God knew where.

  Although, when he thought about it, it was obvious where she’d gone. She’d already proven she could put two and two together after her little adventure with Bertie Hanover. She’d heard Hanover’s name on Ben’s own radio, and the first chance she got, she’d gone rushing off to do a little investigative work of her own, with a thug. And look how well that had gone! It was pretty obvious she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to try her luck with anyone else he’d interviewed, which put Alfred Morris at the top of her list of possible destinations. Damn!