Their eyes met. Kira’s and Max’s. She felt the now-familiar sparks inside, the tingling in the pit of her stomach that presaged even stronger reactions. Her face warmed as she remembered the hours they’d spent …
Dammit. Not now. She stepped away, trying to break that intimacy that so suddenly had enwrapped them.
She glanced at Chris. Saw his raised eyebrows as he obviously understood what was happening.
Just then the door to her mother’s room opened. Leigh walked out. Slowly. Hesitantly.
Kira went over to her. “Thank you.”
Leigh merely nodded, then said haltingly, “I’ll have the blood tests for a kidney match. That doesn’t mean …”
Kira nodded. It didn’t mean Leigh would go through with it. Kira understood the woman better now. She was taking it step-by-step, and that was all she could expect. It was what Max had been trying to tell her.
Chris put his arm around Leigh, and she leaned into him.
So that was the way it was.
“Let’s go down to the cafeteria and work out the statement,” Max said.
Twenty minutes later, they agreed on a statement along the lines of what Kira had reported to the newspaper.
“It’s not going to satisfy anyone,” Chris said. “And Kira is really going to be under pressure from her newspaper.”
“I know,” Max replied. “But if we stick together and insist that’s all we’re going to say until DNA test results come in, they won’t have much to run with. At least for the moment.” He paused. “I think it’s best if it comes from both Kira and myself. That way they can’t run to the other side.”
Kira nodded. “Put my name on it.”
Max nodded. “I’ll have my secretary fax it to all the news media immediately.” He looked at Kira. “It’s time for you to go home.”
She knew that. She’d been running on adrenaline and painkillers, and now it was catching up with her.
Chris’s cell rang. He flipped it open. Listened. Turned away and spoke in a low voice, too low to be heard. Then he turned back.
His gaze went to Kira, then to Max. “I’ll take Kira home while you see to the statement.” He turned to Leigh. “Why don’t you come with us?”
“Yes, come with us,” Kira said to Leigh, sensing something very big was not being said. So, apparently, did Max. His green eyes turned cool, and a muscle throbbed in his neck.
Leigh looked bewildered, so Kira continued, “I’m staying at Mom’s house. We have a lot of photos you might like to see.”
Chris turned to Max. “Your investigators may have sources I don’t,” he said. “Can you try to get information on Richard Salter? He’s a cipher.”
“Of course,” Max said easily. Yet his eyes told another story. He was being locked out, and he didn’t like it. “I’ll be in contact with you. Maybe breakfast in the morning.”
Chris nodded. “I’ll call. In the meantime, some of my friends are watching the house so Kira should be safe enough. Someone will stay with Katy, too.”
“I’ll keep guards at Leigh’s house,” Max added.
Kira caught his hand. “Thank you,” she said simply. He would know she meant Leigh’s change of heart.
His lips turned up on one side. “You’re welcome.”
After he left, she turned to Chris. “What was that about?’”
Chris glanced at her, then Leigh. “The police are focusing their investigation on Payton. They think he’s behind everything.”
33
Kira went into momentary shock. The police focusing on Max?
“Why?” she asked.
“Yes, why?” Leigh echoed.
“I don’t know exactly,” Chris said. “My contact just said they found something in his background.”
“I don’t believe it,” Kira said.
Chris didn’t reply.
“The police are wrong,” Kira said flatly. “They are wrong all the time.”
“Maybe,” Chris said. “In the meantime I don’t want either of you with him alone. Leigh, I want you to stay with Kira.”
“I’ve been with Max a thousand times,” Leigh protested. “I never once feared for myself. I would never tell him, but he’s been my rock for more years than I want to remember.”
“I’ll try to find out what evidence they have,” Chris said. “But I want my people guarding you. Not his. After the city hall shooting, I don’t have any faith in them.”
“Someone has to make sure Maude and the horses are fed and watered,” Leigh protested.
“You have a groom to do that.”
“I know but … I like to make sure.”
“I’ll drive you over tomorrow.”
They all fell into silence as Chris drove them to her mother’s house. Kira ran over every conversation she’d had with Max, every tender moment. Every small revelation. She realized now how seldom Max had talked about his past, how little she really knew him.
But she wasn’t afraid of him. She could never be afraid of him.
Why did the police suspect him? And were they close to an arrest?
She’d been optimistic a few moments ago. Leigh had met her mother, might even donate a kidney if there was a match. She was in love for the first time in her life. Her career was surviving despite her inattention.
Max couldn’t be involved.
Kira couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it.
There was silence the rest of the way. She had gotten in the backseat with Leigh. There was a connection now. Kira’s gratitude had deepened during the afternoon.
They had something else in common. Max. Leigh looked stricken by Chris’s news. Lost. Kira leaned over and took Leigh’s hand and squeezed it.
Leigh bit her lip. She shook her head slightly, still denying what Chris had said.
When they reached the house, Kira saw two men sitting in a car outside her mother’s home. Chris parked in the driveway. He got out and went over to the men. Then he returned and opened the door for Leigh.
Kira exited on her own side and they silently walked to the house. Kira unlocked the door and, once inside, punched in the alarm code. Leigh followed her inside.
“Can I get you something?” she asked Leigh, instinctively switching into hostess mode. “Coffee, tea, a glass of wine?”
Kira was surviving only on adrenaline. She was exhausted. She was heartsick. Her ribs hurt like hell. She hadn’t had a pain pill in hours now, and she needed one.
Chris interceded. “Go to bed, Kira.”
“I will,” she promised. “Just let me show Leigh where stuff is.”
“Then bed,” he insisted. “Leigh, make sure she does it. I’m going to the police department. I can find out more in person than over the telephone. In the meantime, I don’t want either of you to leave the house. You’ll be safe here. Those guys are retired Atlanta cops. Good ones.” He hesitated, then said, “Promise me. Promise you won’t leave this house. If you need anything, call me.”
Leigh hesitated, then nodded. “Just until you get back. I have to call Mrs. Baker and Rick. Otherwise they will worry.”
Chris nodded, his lips thinned into a straight line and his eyes hardened.
He left without another word.
“I’ll show you where everything is,” Kira said, leading the way to the kitchen.
She noticed that Leigh stopped at the fireplace mantel to look at family photos. She stopped. Waiting.
After a few seconds, Leigh joined her at the doorway leading into the kitchen.
She showed Leigh around the kitchen: coffee, tea, bread. “There’s wine in the fridge and some salad stuff and cold cuts. Help yourself. My house is your house.”
“Thank you,” Leigh said. “Now will you do as Chris said? Go to bed. You look like you’re ready to drop.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep,” Kira said.
“I think you’re ready to pass out,” Leigh said. “And I’ll be here.”
Kira held out her hand. “I’m sorry all th
is happened to you. I know it’s been really hard.”
“You, too.”
“I meant it when I said I don’t want anything but Mom to get well.”
“We can talk about that later.”
Kira felt as if she was going to pass out. “I’ll show you to Mom’s room. You can use one of my robes and nightshirts. They will be a bit big—”
“Anything will be fine,” Leigh cut her off.
Kira used the railing to help her upstairs to the bedrooms. She was that tired. When they reached her room, she found two nightshirts and handed one to Leigh along with a robe. “Mom’s room is across the hall,” Kira said, grateful that she’d replaced the mattress.
“I’ll bring some water,” Leigh said. “Are the pain pills in your purse?”
Kira nodded. If felt good to have someone take care of her. Really good. She was so tired …
Leigh went back downstairs. She hesitated at the mantel again and the photos. Frames might have been smashed, but some of the photos survived the burglary.
Regret tugged at her. She didn’t know what it was like to be a part of a real family. Hers had been a disaster.
Even that, though, was falling away beneath her. Each time she thought she had found footing, another piece fell, just like some of the earthquake movies she’d seen.
Mrs. Baker and Max had been the only two constants in her life. Mrs. Baker, though, always kept an emotional distance. Grandfather had been a distant, disapproving figure. And Max? Max had been her nemesis as well as protector. And scold. He would scold in a quiet, commonsense way that often reduced her to tears but also made her think. She’d hated his fingers on the purse and yet eventually she usually got what she wanted, but in a reasoned manner, not a haphazard one. It had taken her a very long time to learn that. He’d wanted her to think about why she wanted something and whether she was willing to take care of whatever it was.
And now Max was suspected of murder. She shoved away the idea. Someone was just plain wrong. She returned to the kitchen even as she continued to look around the interior. The home was small but cozy, or it would have been if much of the furniture hadn’t been split or scratched. The remnants looked as if they had been comfortable.
She compared it to her house. Hers was much larger. Much more luxurious, but it never had the warmth this house must have had.
She should have changed the house, refurnished it, added her own taste, but she’d remained cowed by her grandfather, even two years after his death. Just like she still didn’t have a pet. He’d have none of it while he was alive.
Maude and the horses were as close to defiance as she ever got, even after his death.
She filled a glass with ice and water, then found Kira’s purse. She found the pills and took both water glass and pills back upstairs.
Kira took one pill and gulped it down. “Thanks,” she said.
Leigh turned to leave.
“Stay for a few minutes,” Kira said.
Leigh lingered. She looked around the room. It was small, the bed a single. Built-in bookcases lined one side of the room, and they were filled with a combination of books and teddy bears.
“What can I say,” Kira said, apparently noticing her interest. “I was a sucker for teddy bears. And I never could get rid of any of them. So they stayed here when I moved. They kinda welcomed me back when I moved in.”
“You don’t seem like the teddy bear type.” Leigh continued looking and noticed a photo tucked away at the end of the counter. A black-and-white photo of a band.
“The third from the left is my long-lost father, or your father.” Kira gave a mirthless laugh. “Confusing, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about him.”
“Not much to tell.
“Is he still alive?”
Kira stiffened, and Leigh knew suddenly it was a sore subject. Still, she kept a photo. Something else in common. Neither of them could quite let go of the past.
“I don’t think so,” Kira said. “He left less than a year after I was born. Mom thinks he died in an accident.”
“Did you ever think about looking for him?”
“No,” Kira said sharply. “Why should I? He left Mom when she needed him.”
“Were they married?”
“Mom thought they were. She was months from high school graduation. She loved music. You might say she was a groupie. His band played at her prom, and he singled her out. A week later they were married by a JP. At least she thought they were. Later when she decided to get a divorce, she couldn’t find any record of the marriage. Apparently it never happened.”
“Her parents?”
“My grandfather died when she was young. Her mother disowned her when she married a musician. In later years she and Grandma made peace.”
“Is she still alive?”
“No. She died five years ago.”
“How did your mom manage after you were born?”
“She refused to give up on me. She kept trying to find a pediatric surgeon, then suddenly one appeared. She didn’t have any money, but she vowed to pay the bills if it took the rest of her life. She made several payments, then suddenly no more bills were sent. She asked, and the hospital business office said someone had paid the bills. An anonymous donor.”
Leigh was silent, thinking. An unwelcome thought knocked on a mental door. She tried to dismiss it.
“How did she provide for you?”
“She moved in with another single mother. They both worked several jobs, each taking care of the children when the other wasn’t there. Mom graduated from high school, but she couldn’t get much of a job, especially with me. So she started cleaning houses. Eventually she took night college courses and started her own cleaning business.
“She would take me along when she could, and later I would help out.” She continued, “So we spent a lot of time together.”
Kira’s eyes started to close.
“I’m going to go to bed now,” Leigh said. “Good night.”
“G’night. And thanks for seeing Mom.”
“You’re welcome,” Leigh said as she picked up the few garments she’d selected and turned out the light.
Restless, she prowled through the house, taking note of what was left after the burglary. She realized she had accepted the fact that she was Katy Douglas’s daughter, and now she wanted to know everything she could about her.
She thought about the recent events. The one thing she didn’t believe was that Max was responsible. Neither was Seth or David.
Someone took care of the hospital bills when Kira was born. They would have been enormous. She didn’t like thinking the thought that hammered at her. Uncle Mike was the kindest man she knew. He attended her when she was born. He had mentioned that several times.
If it was possible … if he did switch babies, he couldn’t have anything to do with what was happening now. He was someplace in Africa, Senegal, she thought.
Or was he?
Max had known instantly that something had changed between Burke and himself at the hospital. It obviously had to do with the phone call.
So he wasn’t surprised when he reached home to see police cars there. The guards at the gate apologized. “We thought we had to let them in,” one said.
“Did they have a warrant?”
“No, sir, but …”
“You were right to let them in,” he said. “When did the media leave?”
“An hour ago.”
“Okay. Has Ms. Howard returned?”
“No, sir.”
He nodded and drove through to his house. He remembered the time Ed had given him the keys to the house. It meant he was family. He could have bought nearly any house he wanted. A sleek condo downtown, a minimansion in horse country. But this was home. The only one he’d ever had.
He locked his car and walked to where detectives waited on the porch. They were not the same ones who had been visited him earlier.
“Mr. Payton?”
“Yes.”
“We would like to talk to you.”
“Come in.”
“We would prefer you come down to the station.”
“I prefer to stay here unless you have a warrant.”
They glanced at each other and nodded.
He led the way inside to the living room. He’d redone it in masculine browns and tans. The furniture was all leather and bought for comfort. He headed toward his favorite easy chair and waved his arm toward the sofa and other chairs. “Sit anywhere you please,” he said, knowing in that one act he’d gained control. They knew it, too.
So they threw the question right at him. “Does the bar association know that you’ve killed before?”
34
Although he had expected it, Max’s stomach churned when he saw the police waiting for him at his house.
After the look in Chris’s eyes, he’d realized someone had found something. But maybe it was time. Maybe he had learned from Leigh you couldn’t hide forever.
There should have been no records, though the story had been in all the papers. He’d believed, hoped, that he’d built enough walls to hide his secrets.
The detectives didn’t mince words. “We ran a background check on all the people connected with the Westerfields,” one said. “Yours started at Georgia State. We couldn’t find a Maxwell Payton before that. Georgia State had a high school transcript, but one of our people acted on a hunch and decided to check on it. Lo and behold, the school burned down, and all its records along with it. Yet one apparently survived. Yours.”
“Really?” he observed. “Your point?”
“It interested us. We had someone check your car for fingerprints when you were at the hospital. We had an interesting match. Joe Cantwell. A runaway who’ disappeared from a foster home thirty years ago.”
“So?”
“He was in foster care after killing his father.”
“Did you read the complete file?” Max asked.
“Not yet. It’s not computerized. They’re faxing us copies.”
There was no sense in lying or avoiding the past. It would all come out now. “You will find I was ten. My father went after my mom with a knife. I shot him to keep him from killing her. He died. I didn’t mourn him.”
Behind the Shadows Page 26
