Patrick realized he did, too. He sank back onto the kitchen chair and pushed aside his coffee, which was now cold.
A moment later, Diane began talking again. “This is so crazy. Did she offer any explanation for not telling you about your baby?”
“She said that she knew I was planning to travel after graduation and she didn’t want me to feel trapped.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. And it isn’t enough. I mean, she never even gave me a chance to do the right thing.”
Diane was silent for a long while. “Does Stephen know this?”
“I hired an investigator to track him down. We found him working in a ski resort at Kicking Horse, British Columbia.”
“So that’s where he is. He hasn’t phoned me once since he left. I’m afraid June’s death has hit him hard. Is he okay?”
“I traveled to Canada to meet him. He’s got a job at the ski hill at Lake Louise. We talked for a couple of hours, that was it. He seemed more confused than anything. Maybe he’s working through his feelings about June’s death. Or maybe he was just in shock at having a father turn up so unexpectedly.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that he’s okay and he’s working. Hopefully he’ll contact us before too much longer.” She let out a long sigh. “He looks a lot like his mother, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does,” Patrick replied, though he hadn’t actually noticed. “Diane, I’d really like to figure out who mailed me that package. Do you have any ideas?”
“I suppose it could have been June’s lawyer. Or maybe one of her friends. I’m sorry, Patrick, but she didn’t tell me. I wish she had.”
“Me, too.”
“Maybe she felt too guilty. She let all of us assume you wanted nothing to do with the baby, you see. And she convinced us that it would be kinder to Stephen if we let him assume that you…you had passed on.”
“That’s a hell of a thing to find out now.”
“It must be. I’m sorry. Listen—if you’re talking to Stephen again, would you ask him to call me?”
He promised he would.
Then he went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. As the water slowly dripped through the filter, he stared into space, rehashing his conversation with Diane.
She’d cleared up some of his confusion about the past, but the most important question still remained.
Why had June assumed he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—be a good father to Stephen? He wished he could have had the opportunity to ask her that in person.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE PHONE AT THE RECEPTION desk was ringing. Ensconced in Kate’s office on Wednesday afternoon, Nadine clenched the armrests of her chair and waited. Come on, come on, what’s taking so long?
Finally Tamara Maynard answered, curtly, as if the call had interrupted something important. “Fox & Fisher.”
Nadine gritted her teeth. Not one hour ago, she’d instructed Tamara to say, “Hello, this is The Fox & Fisher Detective Agency,” in a pleasant, yet professional tone.
Nadine was not very impressed with the new receptionist, though she was trying to give her a chance. The hiring had happened very quickly. On Monday, four applicants had been sent to their office. Nathan and Lindsay had narrowed the choice down to two, then they’d asked for her opinion.
She’d chosen the one who seemed most desperate to get the job. Tamara Maynard was thirty-eight years old. She’d lost her position three months ago and was going to lose her apartment, too, she’d explained, if she didn’t get another job soon. Her previous employer had discriminated against her because she was getting older. He liked young blondes in his office, which was what she had been nine years ago when he’d hired her.
Indignant on Tamara’s behalf, Nadine voted for her, reasoning that since Tamara really needed the job she’d put in lots of effort.
Right?
Well, unfortunately it didn’t seem to be working that way. She’d spent two mornings with Tamara so far, and all her patient instructions seemed to be for naught. Tamara hadn’t exactly scoffed at her color-coded filing system, but Nadine had seen her flagrantly ignore it when she’d started several new client files later in the afternoon.
Fine for now, but wait until one of the investigators asked Tamara to pull all the cases to do with wrongful dismissal…then she’d wish she had cross-referenced the files in the first place.
“Nadine,” Tamara called out. “Your new client is here.”
Nadine winced at Tamara’s cavalier approach. Was it too much to ask her to pick up the phone, rather than shouting across the hall?
At reception, Nadine found a white-haired lady using a walker standing uncertainly in front of Tamara’s desk. Good Lord, Tamara hadn’t even invited her to sit, or offered her a glass of water.
“Hello, Mrs. Waldgrave. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you like coffee or water?”
“Do you have tea?”
“Of course. Tamara, would you bring a cup to the conference room, please? And let Nathan know that Mrs. Waldgrave is here.”
“I was working on something else, but I guess I can put it aside for a minute.”
Tomorrow, Nadine vowed, she would remind Tamara that it was a receptionist’s job to multitask.
In the conference room she made certain Mrs. Waldgrave was comfortable before starting with a few general questions. After a minute, Nathan entered, bringing with him the cup of tea and a few packages of sugar and cream. Mrs. Waldgrave scorned those.
“Black tea is good enough for me.”
Nathan raised his eyebrows, but made no other comment as he took a chair across from Nadine.
“As I mentioned on the phone,” their new client said, her spine perfectly straight and her head held high, “I was cheated by a scoundrel and I’d like you to find him.”
This was more like it, Nadine thought, turning to a new page in her notebook. These were the sorts of cases she had dreamed about solving.
“You told me you’d reported the fraud to the police,” Nathan asked, his tone both kind and professional.
“That’s right. Fat lot of good that will do. They told me to my face they probably wouldn’t catch the cretin and even if they do, it’s unlikely they’ll recover my money. But it’s not the four thousand dollars I care about. It’s the principle of the thing. This man is going to target someone else—perhaps someone who can’t afford the lost money as well as I—and I won’t stand for it.”
Nadine admired her backbone. “What was the scam?”
“About two months ago I received flowers from my grandson. It was my birthday, and I supposed he was too busy to bring them himself, so he had them delivered. Then all of a sudden last week, a man showed up at my door. At the time I thought I’d seen his face before, but I didn’t immediately connect him to the flower deliveryman. It was so long ago, you see.”
She was sharp as a tack, Nadine thought, scribbling along in her own modified shorthand.
“This man told me he was a friend of my grandson’s. He seemed to know a lot about him. He said Michael was in trouble. He’d had a car crash, but no insurance and was too ashamed to come to me.”
Mrs. Waldgrave shook her head wearily. “Well, with hindsight I feel so foolish. But Michael is my only grandchild. And he’s done irresponsible things before. I told this man that I had an emergency stash on hand—and I got him what he needed.”
“Which was the four thousand dollars?” Nadine asked.
“Yes.”
Nathan’s eyebrows went up. “It’s probably not safe to keep sums that large in your home, ma’am.”
“Yes. That’s what the police said, too. But these days who’s to say what is safer, the bottom of your freezer or a bank. At any rate, I told all this to the police. But I doubt very much they are going to find this character. Since I didn’t have a withdrawal slip from a bank, I can’t even prove my money is missing.”
Nadine and Nathan asked her several more questions, before concluding the intervi
ew.
“We’ll call you in a few days and let you know how the investigation is proceeding,” Nadine promised as she walked the elderly lady out of the office and down to the street. After hailing her a taxi and helping her into the backseat, Nadine returned to her office.
Well, Kate’s office, actually. Fortunately Kate was a very orderly person, so it had been easy to settle in. She’d apportioned a section of the credenza for her own files and had logged on as a guest user to Kate’s computer.
Nadine was working on an action plan for Mrs. Waldgrave’s case, to be reviewed by Nathan later, when Tamara called out her name again.
“Nadine. You have another client.”
Nadine glanced at her day-timer, then her watch. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She was just about to go out front to investigate, when someone appeared in her doorway.
It was Patrick.
She fell back into her chair, for the moment speechless.
Patrick raised his eyebrows in silent question, then taking her silence for acquiescence, entered the room.
During the past week, it seemed he had always been on her mind. She’d wished, so many times, that he would walk in the door. Even if he was still mad at her.
She studied his face, trying to judge his mood. “Did you get your revisions done in time?”
“One week early.”
“Congratulations.”
He was staring at her, but she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. “Have you heard from Stephen?”
“I’ve spoken to him, but he didn’t call me. I called him. I suggested a ski trip to the Alps and he seemed open to the idea.”
“That’s wonderful.” She was glad for Patrick. She knew that he needed to have some sort of relationship with his son, that in the long run it would make both him and Stephen happy. But why was he here? Where was this headed?
He didn’t seem as angry as the last time she’d seen him, but he was reserved. Cautious.
“We also talked about college. Turns out he’s not that keen. But he does have an idea about a ski shop. I’m going to go over his business plan when we meet.”
Warning bells sounded in her head. “Did he ask if you would invest?”
Patrick frowned. “What if he did?”
“It’s just…I’m still worried that we didn’t do the DNA testing.”
“Would you give that a rest? If it makes you feel any better, I spoke to June’s sister, Diane, the other day. She confirmed that I was Stephen’s father. The whole family knew it.”
Reluctantly, she gave in. “I guess there’s no doubt then. Is that what you came here to tell me?”
“Actually, no. I received your report in the mail. And your invoice. It looks like you made a mistake.”
Her spirits sank. Another one? She just wanted to close the book on this case and move on. “I guess you’d better sit down,” she told Patrick, “and tell me the problem.”
“THE MISTAKE IS WITH THE BILL,” Patrick continued, handing her the invoice he’d received in the mail. “You’ve undercharged me. I know you put in a lot more hours than that.”
She gave a sigh, then smiled, and he realized that she’d been worried it was something more serious.
He tried to hand her the check he’d filled in at home. “We had a deal. You fulfilled your end of it, and I want to stand by mine.”
She wouldn’t take it. “I’ve already spoken to the other partners about this. Under the circumstances…we’re prepared to offer you a discount. Patrick, I may have found your son, but I was working under false pretenses. Believe me, I haven’t stopped regretting what I did.”
“But your strategy worked. You found my son and it looks like you’ve got the job you wanted. I’ve met the new receptionist. Congratulations on your promotion.”
She swallowed, guilt darkening her eyes. “I’m working on cases under Nathan’s supervision. I’m not a full partner, yet. More like an apprentice.”
She hesitated, then asked, “Is—is that all you came here for? To talk about the bill?”
Good question. Why was he here? His own advice to himself had been to move on as quickly as possible. But he didn’t think he could do that.
“I’m here because I can’t forget you. Though, God knows I’ve tried.” He’d gone to movies and bars, phoned up his buddies and had even started drafting notes for his new book.
No matter what he did, she was all he cared about.
“I’ve thought about you a lot, too.” She sounded sincere as she said this, and he looked her square in the eyes.
For his own piece of mind he needed to find out if she really was the sweet, lovely woman he had taken her for…or just a rich socialite playing at private eye.
One thing he knew for sure. Last time they’d moved too fast. This time he wouldn’t make that mistake.
“Do you have plans for this evening? Would you like to go out for dinner?”
Her eyes widened and color flooded her face. He’d surprised her. In a good way, he thought.
“I’d like that, Patrick. But I’m having dinner with my mom and dad tonight.”
He’d come here, hoping to spend the evening with her and he wasn’t keen on going home alone. “It’s not how I pictured our first official date, but I must admit I’m curious to meet your parents. How do they feel about last-minute dinner guests?”
Nadine bit her lip, clearly torn. “Actually, they’re not that good with it. They’re kind of…formal people.”
Maybe it wasn’t fair, but he felt rejected by her response. A night with the parents had been a concession on his part. And now she was telling him he wouldn’t be welcome.
But, of course, these weren’t any parents. They were Wilfred and Sophia Waverly.
What a lot of baggage that sort of heritage entailed. Some men might find that kind of wealth and power alluring. He, frankly, wanted none of it.
“I’m free on Friday,” Nadine offered.
Suddenly he wasn’t sure any of this was a good idea. “Right. Well, I’ll need to check my schedule. How about I give you a call?”
“Patrick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. Please believe me when I say that a night with my parents would not be pleasant in any way.”
“Who are you trying to protect? Them? Or me?”
“You, definitely. My mother and father are very loving parents. But they have old-fashioned ideas—”
She stopped, leaving him to fill in the blanks. “About the sort of men their daughter should date?”
“Well…I wouldn’t have put it that bluntly. But—yes.”
“Bloody hell, Nadine. How old are you?”
“Okay. I get your point. I’m an adult. That doesn’t mean I stop loving and respecting my parents.”
“To what point? Have you ever dated anyone your parents didn’t consider ‘appropriate’?”
“As it happens…no. But not because of my parents. I’ve just never wanted to.” She swallowed, then looked him straight in the eye. “Until you.”
He felt an instant desire for her then. A hot longing to reach across her desk and kiss her. But the price for this woman was just too high. He wasn’t the sort of man to jockey for a position on anybody’s social ladder.
“What about that guy you took to the Rain forest Charity Gala? Who was he? Where did you meet him?”
“Trenton works with my father. I—”
Color flooded her cheeks, making her even prettier. Yet the fact that she couldn’t complete her sentence, only reinforced his opinion about her.
“I shouldn’t have come here.” He headed for the door, then paused and looked back at her. He wished he could stop himself from wanting her so much. “If you ever decide to stop letting your parents control your love life, give me a call.”
NADINE SANK HER HEAD ONTO her desk. Well, that had gone just peachy, hadn’t it? Maybe she should have cancelled her plans with her parents. But that was just the coward’s way out.
What she should have done was
invite Patrick to join her. The dinner would have been awkward, no one would have had a good time, but at least he would have known that she wasn’t ashamed to be dating him.
She just didn’t want to create waves.
Why get her parents in knots until she knew for certain that Patrick…
She closed her eyes as she remembered the way she’d felt when he walked into her office. Oh, she’d forgotten what a presence he had, what energy, what…raw, masculine appeal.
Unfortunately these attributes hadn’t gone unnoticed by the new receptionist. Finally something had galvanized her enough to get up from behind her desk. Tamara appeared at Nadine’s door, waving her hand as if she’d touched something hot.
“Who was he? Please tell me there’s no company policy against dating the clients.”
Nadine groaned and dropped her head again. What had she been thinking when she’d voted to hire this woman?
AN HOUR LATER, NADINE SENSED someone standing behind her. She turned from her keyboard and saw Lindsay scratching her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need those files I was working on last week. You know the paternity cases?”
Nadine nodded. The same guy was being hit up by three different women for having fathered their children. The situation would have been ridiculous if it wasn’t so sad.
“Can’t Tamara find them?”
“Can Tamara find anything? Besides, it’s after five. She was out of here at 5:01p.m.”
“Hang on.” Nadine hurried out to the reception area and located the files in question.
“Wonderful.” Lindsay took a quick look to make sure they were the right files. Which, of course, they were. “You know, I’m glad we decided on that two-month trial period idea.”
“It wasn’t we who decided that, but me,” Nathan pointed out. He locked his office for the night and pocketed the keys. “But Tamara’s only been working here a few days. Give her a chance. And don’t expect her to be another Nadine, ’cause that’s not going to happen.”
Nadine felt pleased that she was being held up as the gold standard where receptionists were concerned. She resolved to be more patient with Tamara tomorrow.
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