“I’m leaving for Twilight Cove soon, and I came to invite you to ride up there with me, to meet Carly and Christopher face-to-face. See for yourself how happy and well-adjusted he is. Get to know them. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? To be part of their lives?”
A light flared in her eyes, then quickly faded. “I want to see my grandson, but . . . I don’t care to meet that woman. She tricked my son into proposing. She knew what he was worth and knew the only way she could have him was by getting herself pregnant.”
Jake refused to believe it. “I saw Rick the day he died. He couldn’t hide his excitement, although he did mention you weren’t happy with his choice. He wanted to be a father to Christopher. He couldn’t wait to marry Carly.”
“All I care about is Christopher’s future happiness.”
“Whether you win or lose, you’ll ruin his life if you put him through this.”
“I don’t see how giving him all of the opportunities and the education he deserves will ruin his life. Do you? Someday he’ll inherit everything the Saunders family has built for over a hundred years. Do you think she can prepare him for that?”
“Do you think you can?”
She appeared uncertain.
Jake went on. “You can give him all that without taking him away from Carly. There are some things that money just can’t buy, Anna, and believe me, love is one of them. I know that much from experience.”
“Christopher is still very young. There is an infinite number of things he probably wants that his mother can’t dream of ever giving him,” she argued.
“My grandfather died last week. You know how he died? Alone. There was no memorial, no tribute from family, no one to shed a tear when I spread his ashes over the water, and I did it, not as a tribute to him, but out of obligation. I did it because my mother wanted me to grant his final request. Even though he’d treated her like shit for years, she expected me to do what she thought was right. Is that how you want to end up? An obligation? As the woman Christopher thinks of as someone who took him away from his mother?”
He glanced around the penthouse, made a point to let her watch him take it all in. “All the money you have, all these things, are cold comfort when you’re all alone, aren’t they?”
He was getting to her, though he hated that she was close to tears, but he was determined to do whatever it took to save Carly and Christopher the agony of a guardianship hearing.
“Come with me to Twilight Cove, Anna. I’ll pick you up on Saturday. If you don’t want to drive up with me, you can get a commuter flight. Go meet them.”
Her hand gripped the edge of the table beside her until her knuckles whitened. She closed her eyes as if she didn’t want to see her reflection in the mirror and whispered one of her husband’s favorite phrases, “When hell freezes over.”
32
TUESDAY AFTERNOON, CARLY DROVE INTO SAN LUIS OBISPO to meet with Tom Edwards in his law office downtown.
In his early forties, Edwards specialized in family law. She found the stocky, balding professional easy to talk to, although the worry of having to come up with money for his fee was never out of her mind.
Wearing a dark suit with a stark white, heavily starched shirt and yellow silk tie, he ushered her into his upscale office, offered her a seat, a low, black leather and chrome chair, and then sat down behind his desk. Formal photographs of a dark-haired woman and two children adorned the bookshelves behind him.
She handed him the papers she had been served and, careful not to leave anything out, related her story. She liked that he leaned back in his chair and gave her his complete attention.
When she finished, he straightened. “From everything you’ve told me, Ms. Nolan, I don’t believe we have much to worry about. As long as D.P.S.S., the Department of Public Social Services, interviews don’t turn up anything that would go against you, and the psych evaluations turn out fine, your son will be staying right where he belongs.”
She mentally went back over the argument she’d had with Jake, and all the questions he’d put to her.
“What if they claim I lied to Rick? That he didn’t know who I was? I did explain everything after he proposed and he . . . he still wanted to marry me anyway.”
“That was the day of his accident?”
“No. I told him the day he proposed. Then he drove back to Long Beach to tell his parents about Christopher and our engagement. He died on the way back to us.”
Edwards looked down at his notes. “Do you know if he told his parents about your having assumed the name Caroline Graham?”
“I . . . I have to assume that he didn’t, or they would have found me as soon as I applied for a Social Security card or a driver’s license. Even Jake Montgomery was searching for me under Caroline’s name. So were the investigators the Saunders initially hired. So, no, I don’t believe Rick told them.”
The memory of the accident was still raw as the day it happened, and she realized it always would be, no matter how much time passed.
She shifted in the chair, straightened her skirt, pressed her feet together. “I wasn’t exactly the kind of woman they would have wanted Rick to marry. In fact, that’s why he went home to break the news to them alone.”
Throughout the interview, Edwards’ expression showed no emotion, which gave her confidence. A good poker face was probably an asset in a lawyer.
“So, we’ve no way to prove that you ever told Rick Saunders the truth, only your word. Weighed against positive statements we’ll have regarding your ability to care for Christopher, the impact of your having assumed another name shouldn’t be that great. You were still a minor then.”
“But it could matter?”
“Of course. Anything can happen in a courtroom.”
She knew that without him having to put it into words.
He glanced down at the papers she’d given him.
“I’ll call Mrs. Saunders’ lawyer to let him know I’m representing you.”
Her stomach churned. She hadn’t been able to eat anything at breakfast, and now she felt lightheaded. She had arranged for Tracy to pick up Christopher after school, and still had to go by the Potter’s to get him.
Edwards rested his forearms on the desk and smiled. “Would you like my secretary to bring you some coffee?”
Coffee was the last thing she needed on an empty stomach. She shook her head and gathered up her purse to leave.
“No, thank you. What I’d really like is for you to tell me that I have nothing to worry about and that this is an open-and-shut case. I need to know that Anna Saunders will never, ever be able to take Christopher from me.”
He came around the desk to help her stand.
“I’d do that if I could, Ms. Nolan. But unfortunately, as I said before, anything can happen.”
By the time she picked up Chris from the Potters’ and got home, Carly was mentally drained but physically wired.
Chris sat at the table to do his homework and went into his room to play. Carly walked into her studio. The turmoil of the past few days had sapped all the enjoyment from her painting. It was usually a welcome outlet for all her pent-up heartache and desire.
As she stood in the cool addition with its partial view of the hills, she was plagued with doubt. Had she done the right thing in telling Christopher about Anna Saunders? He’d been full of questions ever since, bugging her with requests to call or write to Anna and invite her to visit.
She’d never lied to him and never would, yet she longed to protect him from what was happening. She couldn’t bear to have him as confused and terrified as she. Most hours of the day she walked around feeling as if her very life hung in the balance of the outcome—for Christopher was her life.
With a sigh, she stood back and studied the painting she’d begun for Jake earlier in the month—Twilight Cove at sunset. Still in its early stages, the ghostly characters that were her trademark had yet to materialize.
The painting had completely stalled, perhaps b
ecause whenever she picked up a brush to work on it, she thought of Jake.
I miss Jake.
Chris had waged a one-man campaign, asking about Jake more than he asked about Anna Saunders. She missed him, too, and had given up being so stupid as not to admit to herself how much she ached for him.
In the short time they’d been together, she’d come to believe it was going to be possible to let someone else inside her circle of two. She’d glimpsed what it would be like to be loved, if indeed he did love her at all. How could she believe him now, no matter how badly her heart wanted her to?
“If you need anything, Carly, if you need anything at all, call me.”
She’d been tempted to call more than once, until she remembered that he couldn’t give her what she really needed.
She wanted things back the way they were the night they made love. She wanted her innocence back. She wished she had never found out about him and why he’d really come to Twilight.
How quickly he’d become part of their lives. How easily he’d slipped into her heart, into her thoughts. He’d brought her back to life.
She wanted so badly to believe that he meant what he’d said, to believe that he truly did care about her and Chris, but by not admitting his connection to the Saunders, he’d betrayed her.
A small voice inside wouldn’t let her forget that she’d lived a lie, too, convinced that was the only way to survive.
Closing her eyes, she shut out the painting and wrapped her arms protectively around herself before she scrutinized the canvas again. She studied the deserted bluff, the fountain with its slow, sparkling cascade of water, the younger version of the fig tree off to one side of the grassy area that was now the park.
She experienced the stillness of the wind at sunset, the hour when the water was often calm and glassy and mirrored the sunset sky.
Gradually, as she stared into the shadows and highlights of the oils, she almost felt the warmth of the sun on her face and caught the scent and tang of the salt spray hitting the rocks in the cove.
She listened to her heart as it whispered that this was not meant to be Jake’s painting after all. Her palms began to itch as inspiration flooded her and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She picked up a tube of black paint, opened it and then a few more tubes.
Quickly she began to squeeze colors onto her palette. Choosing a brush, she warned herself to slow down, but she didn’t want to waste the few hours she had left before she was due at the diner.
There was just enough time to try to channel the creative energy pulsing through her.
On Saturday Jake stopped in San Luis Obispo with one final errand to run before he drove into Twilight. Once he’d gotten off the highway, he’d dialed Carly again, but got no answer and found himself automatically dialing Alexander and Perry. It wasn’t his first try, but this time the receptionist put him through to Sam Godes.
“Godes.”
“It’s Jake Montgomery.”
There was a telling silence on the other end of the line.
“Thanks for nothing,” Jake said.
“Hey, look, I’m just doing my job here.”
“How’d you do it?”
“What’da ya mean?”
“Who was on me?”
“A female agent. She’s new but she’s good. African American.”
Sam went on but Jake only half listened. He knew exactly who’d been following him. Hell, he’d held the door for her, the well-dressed woman with Nordstrom packages and a baby carrier. Probably hadn’t even had a real baby in it. She’d even passed him a time or two on the open highway. He’d seen her, hadn’t thought a thing of it when he turned off at Avila and she kept going, but she must have quickly doubled back, followed him to the park. It would have been easy to take photos of him and Chris and Carly with a telephoto lense.
He’d been watching for Godes. Not another investigator.
Shit.
“Hey, for what it’s worth, Jake, I didn’t think it would work, but your radar must have been scrambled.”
A lot had been scrambled lately, Jake thought. With his mind on Carly, he’d made it easy for Godes and the woman to double-team him.
“If she’s looking for another job, have her call me,” Jake told him.
“What about me?”
Jake hung up. He hoped he hadn’t pushed Anna so hard yesterday that she’d be more vengeful than ever, but there was no telling. He’d given up on trying to guess what people were going to do a long time ago. So few ever did the right thing. Most people he’d run across, like Godes, looked out for number one.
“Watch it, Montgomery,” he told himself as he got out of the car, “or you’ll end up as hard-hearted as Kat.”
Two hours later, Carly put down the palette and cleaned her brushes, occasionally glancing over at the painting, certain now that it was right, perhaps not exactly the way she had wanted it to be, but the figures in her paintings were always inspired, as if they were in control. The final product would never be right until she listened to them.
It was time to think about getting Christopher fed and over to Etta’s, but as she started into the kitchen to make him a bowl of noodle soup and a toasted-cheese sandwich, the phone rang.
With the days getting longer and more tourists coming to town, the crowd at the diner was picking up. She expected it to be Selma asking her to hurry and come in early.
“Carly? It’s Jake.”
She recognized his voice the moment he’d said her name and the world stopped turning. Her heart jumped into her throat.
“Jake—”
“I’m in town and I’m coming over.”
“I have to work tonight.”
“I won’t stay long.”
“I really don’t think—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Before she could protest, he hung up. She wrapped her hand around the receiver, stared at the burners on the stove while her heart raced.
Slowly she put down the phone, then opened the cupboard, took down a can of chicken-noodle soup, and tried to carry on as if her life hadn’t just spun completely out of control again.
Calm determination settled over Jake long before he’d pulled up in front of Carly’s mobile home. He sat there listening to the end of an old R and B classic as four mellow singers crooned, “Come on, girl. Reach out. Reach out for me.”
He gripped the steering wheel, cut the motor and pulled the key. Then he looked over his shoulder into the backseat where a homely, black-and-gray spotted dog lay with her muzzle on her paws. Her expressive brows shifted when she looked up at him with one brown and one blue eye.
The volunteer at the animal shelter wasn’t certain, but the vet later agreed that she had to be part Australian shepherd. The mixed-breed mutt was about three years old, calm and housebroken, which was why Jake chose her, despite unknown origins. Maybe her eyes didn’t match, and she was a bit on the scrawny side, but there was only one more day before she was going to be put down, and the dog seemed so desperate for love that he couldn’t leave her behind.
“This might just turn out to be the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” He’d been talking to the dog since he’d picked her up in San Luis Obispo earlier that afternoon.
The front door of the house opened before he was out of the car, and he was arrested by the sight of Carly in her jeans and midriff-skimming T-shirt. With her long hair and slim figure, she might have been mistaken for an eighteen-year-old, but he knew too well that she was all woman.
He ached to take her in his arms, but could see by the determined set of her lips and the way she was clinging to the edge of the screen, that was impossible.
“Stay here,” he told the dog before he opened the door and stepped out of the car with his insides twisted into a knot.
Carly came down the steps to meet him. Obviously she didn’t want him to set foot on the porch, but he didn’t let that deter him, not with his heart at stake.
“Joe called me,” he told her.
“Joe? Called you?”
Jake nodded. He couldn’t take his eyes off of hers and wished he hadn’t been the one to put the disillusionment in them.
“He said that you told him Christopher has been down in the dumps.”
“Chris is confused. Frightened. His grandmother is fighting me for guardianship, Jake. Chris realizes something’s going on.”
“What have you told him?”
“I’ve never lied to him and I won’t start now. I explained that Anna Saunders was his grandmother, but I didn’t tell him about how she’s trying to . . . take him away.”
“There’s always hope that she’ll change her mind.” Maybe slim to none, he wouldn’t even bet on it, but Carly needed to believe.
“It’s a little late, Jake. The petition hearing date is set.” She shifted impatiently. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
He reached for her hand, sensed her hesitation when she tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let go.
“Walk with me to the car.”
“Please—”
“Come on. I’ve got something to show you.” He’d already started for the SUV, thankful when she went along. He opened the back door. The dog sat up and began to sniff the air.
“I got her at the pound. I thought that if Chris had a dog, it might keep his mind off what’s going on. It’s totally up to you, though. If you don’t want him to have her, I’ll take her up to my place.”
Carly hadn’t moved, but the dog had walked to the edge of the seat and was staring up at her with mismatched marble eyes. Slowly Carly reached out, let the dog sniff the palm of her hand. Jake saw traces of paint on her fingertips, ochre, gold, black.
“I brought along bags of food. She’s had her shots. Her former owner died, and no one else wanted her. She’s not a puppy. She won’t need to be house trained.”
The dog was licking Carly’s hand, pressing her head against her palm.
Jake waited, careful not to push any harder. Finally when Carly looked up at him, her hand was still in his—more than he’d hoped for. He figured the dog had distracted her.
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