Behind the Shadows

by Potter, Patricia;

  “You’re a brave lady,” he said.

  “I think that’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me, though I don’t think it’s true.”

  “Oh, it’s true, Leigh Howard. And you’re also … very pretty.” Damn, but he was lousy at compliments. And he was getting in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. The last thing he wanted to do was pose more problems for her and create more conflicts of interest for himself.

  “Do you have another of those cubes of sugar?” he asked. A diversion of sorts. For himself.

  She took one from her pocket and gave it to him. He held it out to the white mare and felt the softness of her mouth as she daintily took it from his palm.

  Leigh gave him an approving glance and took his hand. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Kira and Max waited in the visitors’ room for Chris Burke. Kira was already regretting asking him to meet her there.

  Max faced her. “You look tired … and damned desirable.”

  “Always the diplomat. Or the attorney who wants to win.”

  “Right now, I’m neither. I don’t want one side to win to the detriment of the other.” He very carefully did not touch her. He wanted to. She was so obviously exhausted. And sad. Even hopeless.

  But she would misconstrue whatever he did. He hadn’t missed the wariness in her eyes at times. Not always. They had definitely softened when he talked to her mother.

  “I understand why you love her so much,” he said.

  “Do you?” she challenged.

  He paused. Considered his answer, then admitted, “Maybe not. I’m not good at families. I don’t understand that kind of …” He stopped.

  “Have you never had a family?”

  He shrugged. “The Westerfields came closest to it.”

  “From what I understand it wasn’t a Brady Bunch family.”

  He smiled slightly. “No.”

  “No mother or father? No brother or sister? Not even a distant cousin lurking somewhere?”

  “None of the above. I lost my mother when I was nine. I spent the next few years in various foster homes, none of which were that eager to have me there. Money, yes. Me, no.”

  She rested her hand on his knee. “I’m sorry. It must have been lonely.”

  “Not so. There was an independence that appealed to me. No one cared whether I was at a certain place at night. I learned a number of skills on the street.”

  “How did you become one of Atlanta’s most eligible bachelors?”

  “The PR firm I hired to promote Westerfield Industries. They didn’t quite understand I wanted the corporation publicized, not me. I fired them, but I was stuck.”

  “Ah, a retiring lawyer.”

  She was at her cynical best. He liked that side of her. Not particularly the cynicism, but the challenge in every word. She had learned not to take everything at face value. Well, so had he.

  She wanted to probe deeper. That was obvious to him. But he didn’t want to go deeper.

  She might understand. But she was a newspaper reporter, and his past was something he’d carefully concealed all these years. She was open. Probably the most open woman he’d ever met. She wore her emotions on her face. He didn’t want to see pity there. Or horror. Or even fear.

  “Are you from Atlanta?” she continued to probe.

  She was in full reporter mode, and he’d learned she was a very good one.

  “No.” Hopefully the answer was short enough, and curt enough, to cut off any additional questions.

  His hopes were quickly dashed.

  “Where, then?”

  “A place that no longer exists. It’s been paved over and made into industrial properties. It’s not a place I like remembering.”

  It was a warning. Hell, it was like hitting her over the head with a hammer. His voice had chilled in a way that usually sent people scurrying for the door.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. Questions are instinctive for me. Even if I wasn’t a reporter, I would always want to know everything about everyone. I’m told it can be a very annoying trait.”

  He was disarmed, and he didn’t want to be disarmed. He had no question but she would try to find out more about him. Thus far, the police had only talked to him about what he knew about the shooting, which was damned little. But they would be back with more questions.

  “You said you didn’t think Leigh’s cousins could be involved. Why?”

  “Seth Westerfield has a promising career. He’s the favorite for Congress. He’ll probably make a good one, as politicians go. He knows nearly everyone who counts in his district, has done favors for many of them. He wouldn’t do anything to risk his campaign. His father ran, and lost. Seth has something to prove.”

  “He needs money to run,” Kira ventured.

  “He’s being supported by the national party. He’s also raised a lot locally.” He hesitated, then added, “If Seth has a soft spot, it’s Leigh. He wants to break the will, but he wants to do it for Leigh. If he gets something, fine, but he would never hurt her or try to blame something he did on her.”

  “You say that with certainty.”

  He shrugged. “He loves her. If she wasn’t his cousin, I think … he would have gone after her.”

  “And the other cousin?”

  “David? He doesn’t care anything about money. Never did. Not that he needed to. His father made a lot of money and had a great money manager. In fact, I think David gave his Westerfield inheritance to charity.”

  “But maybe he knew his father was involved in some way …”

  “I thought about that, but I doubt he has any of the skills needed to do what’s been done these last few days. All he knows is medicine, and that’s all he cares about except his family.”

  “And the housekeeper?”

  “Mrs. Baker?”

  She nodded.

  “She was with Ed forever. He trusted her completely.”

  “Is there anyone else around the house?”

  “Just Rick. He’s Mrs. Baker’s nephew. But he has no motive.”

  “Did you check his references?”

  “I asked one of my staff attorneys to do it. He said Rick came up clean. And he is Mrs. Baker’s nephew.”

  “Why does everyone call her Mrs. Baker? Why not by her first name?”

  Her questions were defusing the tension between them. He wondered whether she was intentionally doing that.

  “I don’t know. Ed always called her that. It was never Alma. Always Mrs. Baker. The rest of us followed his lead. It became a habit. And she never asked us to do anything else.”

  Max knew now why she was such a good reporter. She was relentless.

  “Maybe the nephew thought she should get more.”

  “I don’t think they’re that close, and I know that Mrs. Baker was more than pleased with what she received.”

  “That leaves us back at square one,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

  “But you did a damn good job in summarizing. Except for one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Me. I might have the best motive of all. I get rid of both of you, and I can do anything I want with the trust.”

  “You can shoot?”

  “Yes. I could also hire someone fairly capable to try to frighten you off.”

  “And make love to me at the same time?”

  He found a smile forming. Dammit, but she got to the heart of the matter.

  “No,” he said simply.

  She took his left hand in her right one. “I suspected as much.”

  “Just suspected?”

  “Okay, I knew as much.”

  “From the beginning?”

  “Now you’re asking too much,” she said. “I was certainly attracted to you, but I couldn’t understand why you might be attracted to me.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why? You’re pretty. Smart as hell. Gutsy. Interesting.”

  “Interesting?” she echoed just as he had a few seconds earlier. She wou
ld have been insulted if anyone else had said it, but she sensed it was a rare compliment from him.

  He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “I like interesting.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and she relaxed into it. She liked being pretty, smart as hell, gutsy. Even “interesting.” She liked being next to him. She liked the warmth of his body next to her. She liked talking to him and she liked his touch. Liked? Greatest understatement in the world.

  He’d been so good with her mother. Katy had liked him. And her mother was a great judge of character.

  Admit it. She trusted him. She hadn’t wanted to. He was too close to the Westerfields. He’d made it clear his loyalty—or duty—was first and foremost to Leigh Howard.

  He had been open and honest about it. Just as she had been about her mother. So how could she complain? Although she’d skittered away several times, she realized it was more the fear of falling in love with him rather than actual distrust of him. There had been a certain ease between them almost from the beginning. An ease spiced by the sexual electricity that had been there from minute one.

  She still didn’t know that much about him. He’d hinted at secrets. And her natural curiosity wanted to press him, but now was not the time.

  She’d just started to relax when she saw Chris and Leigh approach. Leigh’s blond hair was pulled back in a long braid and she looked as elegant as ever. But her eyes were slightly red with dark rings underneath. She, too, was obviously having sleepless nights.

  Kira rose and went to her. “Thank you for coming,” she said simply.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s sleeping now, but she would want me to wake her,” Kira said.

  Leigh started to turn. “Maybe later.”

  “No. Please,” Kira said. “It would mean so much to her. She keeps asking about you. I showed her a photo.” She didn’t know how Chris had convinced her to come, but now it was up to her to get her to stay.

  Her heart was in her throat as she watched Leigh’s face. She recalled everything Max had said, and her heart went out to her. “It would mean a lot to her,” she said in a ragged voice.

  Leigh glanced at Chris, who nodded.

  “I’ll wait until she wakes,” she said.

  Kira’s breath evened out. A miracle. Now she needed just one more. Just one more.

  32

  It took every ounce of Leigh’s strength to go into the hospital and up to Katy Douglas’s room.

  She’d seen it many times in her memories. In her dreams. The endless surgeries, the pain, the sorrow, and particularly the guilt that had never left her. She was the reason her mother and father died.

  Chris took her hand, squeezed it. He didn’t know the deep-seated guilt she’d felt all these years, or maybe he sensed it. But his touch gave her strength. She could do anything with him next to her.

  She waited as Kira went into the room across the hall. Her heart was moving spasmodically in her chest. Why had she agreed? She’d surprised herself by doing it. But looking at the photo of Katy Douglas was like looking at herself.

  In seconds, Kira was back, waving her in.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?” Chris asked.

  “No,” she said. “But thank you.”

  He nodded approvingly and she felt a new surge of confidence. She went inside and closed the door behind her.

  Kira stood next to the bed. Protectively, Leigh thought. The woman in the bed had turned her head toward the door, and she broke into a smile as Leigh neared the bed. Stood there. Unsure. Beyond nervous.

  Katy Douglas was small, and the disease had probably made her seem even smaller. She was wan, her eyes hollow, but the color was an intense dark blue. A darker shade than her own.

  “Sit … down,” the woman said. “Near me, please.”

  Leigh took the chair next to the bed. She was grateful for it. Her legs weren’t working very well, and her heart was pounding.

  “This must … be very hard,” Katy Douglas said. Her eyes were full of compassion, and Leigh’s mouth suddenly felt thick.

  “For you, too,” Leigh replied after a moment.

  “No. It’s not hard gaining another daughter. It’s a … joy.”

  And Leigh saw that it was. Not because of a kidney. She looked into the kind, compassionate face and suddenly understood why Chris had wanted her to meet Katy Douglas.

  It felt disloyal, though, to the mother who had sung to her and sat beside her when she was sad or sick or afraid.

  “I’ll go outside,” Kira said.

  “No …” But it was too late. The door closed behind Kira Douglas as she left the room.

  Katy Douglas seemed to be able to see right through all Leigh’s uncertainty. “Thank you … for coming.” Her voice was growing weaker.

  “I …” Leigh began.

  “Don’t say it,” Katy said. “I think we’ve all gone through some … denial about what happened. I probably have the least adjustment. I get a new daughter. If you’ll let me.”

  Except it might not be for long. Leigh didn’t want a new mother if she was just going to lose her again. She wanted to flee the room.

  “Will you tell me something about yourself?” Katy asked. “Anything. What you like. What you don’t like.”

  What to tell? Kira Douglas was smart, had a great job, and was obviously respected, while she’d made one mess after another.

  “I like horses. I’m involved in a horse show.”

  The woman in the bed smiled. “I always wanted to ride. So did Kira, but there was never time or money. I’m so glad you had the opportunity.”

  Katy held out her hand. “I don’t want to push you … Leigh … but there may not be much time. I want you to know me … and Kira. You’re like sisters.”

  “I would like that, too,” Leigh replied. “But you look tired. Maybe another time.”

  “Just a few more minutes …”

  Katy Douglas was fighting exhaustion. That much was obvious.

  “This can’t be good for you …”

  “It’s wonderful for me. At first … it hurt. I had a daughter I’d never held, never knew. I love Kira with all my heart but to know there was someone out there …”

  There was so much love and tenderness and understanding in a body ravaged by disease that Leigh’s heart started to crack.

  “No,” Katy said shortly. “No regrets. No tears.”

  “You need a … a kidney.”

  “And I’ll tell you what I told Kira. I still have my senses about me. I still have to sign a consent for surgery. And I won’t sign it. I told her I wouldn’t take her kidney, and I won’t take yours. It’s too dangerous.”

  Leigh touched the hand lying on the cover. “I’m glad I came.”

  “Kira was right,” Katy said. “You’re lovely. And nice.”

  Kira had lied. She hadn’t been nice at all. She was suddenly very grateful.

  “She loves you very much,” Leigh said.

  “Maybe too much,” Katy said. “She thinks … she knows what’s best for me. She doesn’t.”

  The kidney, Leigh knew immediately. Pain rushed through her. She might have the means of prolonging this woman’s life. Prolonging the time she could get to know her.

  The fear rushed in after that. The white walls of the room did it. The sound of heels on the hall floors outside did it. The drip stand did it, along with the other sounds of a hospital room.

  “What is it?” Katy Douglas asked softly.

  “I don’t like hospitals. I was in an accident when I was young, and I was in and out of the hospital—hospitals—for several years.”

  “I’m … sorry.” Empathy shone in eyes too much like her own.

  “It was a long time ago,” Leigh said.

  “Not so long ago for you.” The voice was soft, understanding.

  “No. It revisits several times a week at night. My mom and dad died at the same time.”

  Katy Douglas’s face paled even more. “Ki
ra told me your … parents died in a crash.”

  Leigh didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She had wished to have her mother back for years. Now she was offered a new one. It was all too new, too strange to accept.

  She stood. “I was told not to stay long.”

  “Will you come back?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you have any photos … when you were young …”

  “I’ll bring them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know what to call you.”

  “Katy. Everyone calls me Katy.”

  To her own surprise, Leigh leaned down and clasped Katy’s hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Katy.”

  Katy’s fingers clasped hers. And she nodded.

  Leigh left before her eyes gave her away for the second time today. Until now she hadn’t cried in a long time.

  Thoughts and plans were floating like flotsam through Kira’s mind. She had wanted to listen in on the conversation but in the end she had too much respect for her mother.

  She needed to write a better story for the paper, but there was little she could say now. Too much she didn’t know. Too many people who could get hurt.

  She hadn’t really considered that in her career. News was news. Now she was learning the personal toll of some news stories. Fingers would be pointed toward an important family. Seth Westerfield’s political campaign could be affected. So could Dr. David and Dr. Michael Crawford’s reputations. She didn’t want to be responsible for that.

  Max was talking to Chris in a corner. She walked over and joined them.

  Chris moved to make way for her.

  “Thank you for bringing her. I don’t know how you did it, but …”

  “It was her decision. She brought it up. She offered to come.”

  “It’s a change.”

  “I think she’s been thinking about it.”

  “Will she give a kidney?”

  “I don’t know. That wasn’t discussed.”

  “Maybe after meeting her …”

  “Katy is still a stranger to her,” Max warned. “And even if the DNA proves to Leigh’s satisfaction she’s Katy’s biological daughter, that doesn’t mean she’s compatible.”

  “I think she’s already accepted that she’s Mom’s natural daughter or she wouldn’t be here,” Kira said hopefully.