“Whoa! Slow down.” Lisa held her hands up. “Let’s not convict her without a little more evidence. You said there was more than one possibility. Who else could it be?”
Peter picked up his spoon and tapped it idly on the table. Suddenly he tensed, and his complexion paled. “Ah, hell.”
“What?”
“Maisie Colton. Her son is the right age, isn’t he?”
Lisa did a quick calculation. “Yes, but just because her child is the right age—”
“She’s also as good as Honey Creek royalty, being a Colton. Our families have been at odds for years. A relationship with my father would be beyond scandalous. And she’s—” Peter laughed without humor. “Well, you saw how she acted at the library the other day. She’s definitely volatile. Some people say she’s borderline nuts.”
“And she’s gorgeous. I could understand your father falling for her.”
Peter gave her a startled look. “Yeah, I suppose she’s attractive. I never really thought about it before.”
She cocked her head skeptically. “You never noticed that Maisie Colton is drop-dead beautiful? I don’t buy it.”
Peter leaned closer as if about to confide a dark secret. “She’s a Colton.” His tone said his statement was self-explanatory.
She waved him off. “Whatever. So there are at least two possibilities. And nothing says the woman, whoever she is, is even still in Honey Creek.”
Peter flopped back against the booth again. “You have a point. But it’s worth looking into. But could the complication of an unwanted pregnancy be motive for murder?”
Lisa’s stomach flip-flopped. “I don’t know. Children are a highly charged subject. A lot of very important decisions get made based on having a child with someone.” She dropped her eyes to her plate and added under her breath, “Or not.”
The waiter arrived with their wine and a basket of rolls, distracting Peter from the comment that had slipped out almost on its own. She hoped he hadn’t heard her aside, but Peter’s curious gaze stayed fixed on her, as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle, as he ordered their dinners. When the waiter left the table, the question she’d read in Peter’s expression came. “What does or not mean?”
Lisa sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was…letting personal history sideline me. Forget it.”
But his dark eyes narrowed on her, sharp and intuitive. “Do you…have a child who’s affected decisions you’ve made?”
Lisa’s mouth dried, and she had to clear her throat in order to make her voice work. “In my case, it was the children we didn’t have that had an impact. The children…I couldn’t have. My husband and I divorced after five years of trying to have a baby.”
His penetrating gazed softened, and he sat back, looking a bit poleaxed. “Oh.” His mouth opened and closed, his struggle to find the right words obvious. “I’m sorry.”
Lisa awkwardly forced a laugh. “Wow, talk about a conversation killer.” Avoiding his sympathetic but uneasy expression, she fidgeted with the stem of her wine glass, her hand shaking. “Note to self—infertility and subsequent divorce are not fodder for first-date table talk.”
Peter’s hand closed around her fumbling fingers, and the warmth of his grasp tripped her pulse. With her breath stuck in her lungs, she darted her gaze back to his.
“I thought you said this wasn’t a date.” The hint of a grin twitched at the corner of his mouth, and his voice was a low, smooth rumble like approaching thunder.
A tingle raced over her skin. The piercing intensity returned to his eyes, shooting heat straight to her core. “I—It’s not. I meant…”
His thumb stroked her wrist where her pulse fluttered. “Would a date with me really be such a bad thing?”
A nervous laugh hiccupped from her throat. “No. I just—” Unable to think clearly with the crackle of energy from his touch short-circuiting her brain, Lisa reluctantly pulled her hand from his. Drawing a breath, she gathered her composure. “I don’t date. It has nothing to do with you. I just don’t think I should get involved with any man.”
He scrunched his face in disbelief. “Why on earth not? You’re young and beautiful and—”
“Peter.” She held up a hand to cut him off. “Thank you. I’m flattered, but…none of that changes the fact that…I can’t have children.” Her shoulders drooped. She really didn’t want to get into this discussion. Why had she cracked the door on the topic with her stupid muttering?
He leaned toward her again. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but…I don’t see why that should make any difference.”
His tone was so gentle it brought tears to her eyes. Or maybe it was the reminder that nights like tonight, alone with a handsome, attentive man, could never be anything more that made her well up. She swallowed the knot of emotion that rose in her throat and blinked away the moisture blurring her vision.
“The only thing more difficult than having Ray walk out on our marriage was seeing the disappointment in his eyes every time an in vitro attempt failed. Not having the children I wanted hurt badly enough, without knowing how I’d let the man I loved down, too. I refuse to put another man through that pain. And… I can’t put myself through the heartache of another childless relationship. So…” She paused and squared her shoulders again, reinforcing her words. “I’ve made it my policy not to start anything I know can’t go anywhere.”
Lisa held Peter’s gaze, her heart thundering as if waiting for an official judgment to be passed down.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as, for several nerve-racking moments, he silently studied her with a shadowed expression. Finally, in a husky voice that slid over her like a lover’s caress, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that. Because I think you’re special, and…I’m very attracted to you. I’d have liked the chance to…get to know you better.”
His deep timbre and the hungry look in his eyes said he wanted to do much more than “get to know” her. The answering shimmy low in her belly concurred.
If she’d thought she could have meaningless sex simply to satisfy the feverish ache Peter stirred deep inside her, maybe she’d take him up on the promise implicit in his dark, seductive eyes.
Lisa squeezed the armrests of her chair, holding herself in place as the maelstrom of tangled emotions blasted through her. On the heels of her frank confession about her infertility and the shared shock of learning Peter had a half-sibling, the temptation to lose herself in mind-numbing sex pounded through her like a gale-force wind.
But sex could never be meaningless for her, and hiding from the harsh realities of her circumstances was not her style, even if spending a night in Peter’s arms did hold great appeal. Her raw honesty had already created a sense of intimacy between them that was dangerous to her heart. Under other circumstances, Peter Walsh was just the kind of man she’d like to ‘get to know,’ too.
The waiter arrived with their food, allowing Lisa to shake herself from the hypnotic lure of Peter’s gaze. But not even the ‘best steak in the state’ could satisfy the cravings Peter had revived in her tonight—the desire to be held in strong arms, the yen to share her life with someone, and the bittersweet longing for a child of her own.
Peter sipped his wine and studied Lisa over the rim of his glass. He shouldn’t have pushed her to divulge the painful reasons behind her divorce, but after only a few hours in her company, he felt himself powerfully drawn to her and wanted to get past her no-dating rule. Considering his own reluctance to involve himself with a woman since Katie’s death, his attraction to Patrick’s teacher had blindsided him.
Was he ready to take the risks that came with dating? He had more than his own interests to think about now. What was best for Patrick? He and Patrick had been alone for so long, what would it do to their relationship to add a woman to the mix? And was the lack of a mother figure in Patrick’s life at the root of his son’s recent problems?
Peter cleared his throat before diving into the subject of his son. “So you promised to help me
figure out what to do about Patrick. Your suggestion that I explain more of what’s happening with the family is a start, but…the truth is, I’ve felt a distance growing between us for more than a year now. We used to be really close. We did everything together but now…he’s pulling away.”
Lisa held his gaze, listening attentively as she cut a bite of steak.
“Nowadays, he’d rather sit in his room and play video games than talk to me.”
She smiled. “I think most kids his age are more interested in playing video games or sports than talking to their parents. He’s ten, Peter. He’s a preteen, and it’s natural for him to start establishing some independence at his age.”
“Preteen?” Peter let his wrist fall heavily to the table and groaned. “God, I hadn’t thought about that. What am I going to do with a teenager?”
Lisa chuckled. “Scary as it sounds, you will survive.”
“I just wonder sometimes if I’ve done enough, if I’ve been a good enough parent. I can’t always be there and when Patrick starts doing things that are out of character for him—” he nodded toward Lisa “—like acting out at school, I feel like I’ve failed.”
Lisa shook her head. “You haven’t failed. Patrick is a great kid. He’s bright and well-behaved…usually. He’s a pleasure to have in my class. But his recent mood changes tell me he’s just going through a difficult adjustment. Maybe because of the trouble your family has encountered, maybe because you’ve been working longer hours lately…”
Peter’s gaze snapped up to hers. “He told you that?”
“No, you did. The day you came up to the school.”
He scratched his chin slowly. “To be honest, I don’t remember much of what I said. Only that I was pretty short with you.” He sent her an apologetic look. “I’d just been at the hospital to visit Craig Warner, and we’d been discussing the recent chain of trouble my family’s been going through. Discussing the fact that we believe the events are connected.” Peter elaborated briefly on the attack on Mary, Craig’s relationship with the family and his poisoning and the discovery of Mark Walsh’s body. Lisa’s expression reflected her growing concern and dismay for all the Walshes had endured.
“When I came to the school, I took my frustrations with the case out on you. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve already apologized. The issue we need to solve is how do you reach out to Patrick during all of this, so he’s not hurt by the ripple effects of these family problems.”
Peter spread his hands. “I’m all ears. What do you suggest?”
“Well, the football game you took him to last weekend was a good start. He beamed like a Christmas light when he told me about the game on Monday.”
Peter smiled. “I’m glad he had fun.”
She leaned forward, her expression direct and serious. “I’d dare to say it wasn’t the game nearly as much as the time with you that he enjoyed. You need to make an effort to do things with him outside of your normal routine. I know that’s hard when you are a single parent with a busy job. But for Patrick’s sake, try to make time.”
Peter filled his lungs and nodded. “I can do that. Any ideas?”
“Well…” Lisa stabbed a bite of potato and flashed him a cagey glance. “I have an idea that is self-serving.”
Intrigued, Peter arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“I’m in charge of the Fall Festival at school. We were supposed to have it last month, but the tornado hit that afternoon, and we had to postpone it until this coming Saturday.”
“You want me to go to the festival with Patrick?”
“Better than that.” She tugged her mouth into a sheepish, lopsided grin. “I’d like you two to help me set up and run a booth. I have to decorate, oversee all the activities and clean up afterward. I could use all the extra help I can get.”
Peter did a quick mental check of his schedule. He’d have to rearrange a few things, but he could clear his calendar for next Saturday. “Done. We’ll be there whenever you need us and stay until the last corn-dog stick is thrown away.”
Her smile brightened. “Thank you. And did Patrick mention the Parents’ Day Thanksgiving luncheon?”
“I think he gave me a note about that. The day before they get out for Thanksgiving break, right?”
She nodded. “I know it’s a work day for most parents, but if you can get there—”
“Say no more. I’ll do everything I can to be there. Can my mom come? I know she’d love it.”
“By all means. Grandparents are welcome.” Her expression darkened slightly, and her brow furrowed. “Peter, how much does Patrick know about his mother?”
Peter’s gut pitched and for a moment he couldn’t draw a breath. “I…told him the truth. That she died when he was born. Why?”
“That’s all you’ve told him? You don’t talk about what kind of person she was or memories you have of her that he’d find funny or comforting?”
A fist squeezed Peter’s heart and filled his chest with an ache that made it difficult to talk. “I don’t…I mean…if he asks, I try to…be honest, but…” Peter closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, forcing down the surge of emotion Lisa’s question brought.
Katie was the last person he wanted to talk about, but knowing Lisa had bared her soul to him concerning her infertility, he owed her a similar honesty. With a deep breath for courage, he faced his demon.
Chapter 7
“W e don’t talk about Patrick’s mother much. Partly because he doesn’t ask, and partly because…well, it’s difficult for me. Still.”
Lisa reached across the table to touch his hand, her eyes soft with sympathy. “I don’t mean to cause you pain, but I think it is important that Patrick know about his mom. Even if he doesn’t ask, he’s bound to have questions. Not having a mom makes him different from the other kids in his class, and while you’ve done a commendable job raising him alone—”
“My mother helped a lot. Especially when Patrick was a baby.”
She conceded the point with a turn of her hand. “Just the same, a grandmother isn’t the same thing as a mom. My last piece of advice—” she quirked a self-conscious grin “—and then I promise not to offer anymore unsolicited opinions—Have a heart to heart with Patrick about your wife. He needs to know who he is, where he came from, what she was like. That she’d have loved him had she lived.”
That she’d have loved him. Just when he thought he’d gotten his volatile feelings regarding Katie under control, Lisa’s words sucker-punched him. His breath stuck in his lungs. A wave of grief and loss swept through him, shaking him to his marrow. Maybe he wasn’t as over Katie’s death as he’d thought, if one statement from Lisa could undo him so completely.
Peter fisted his hands and struggled to recover his composure. He nodded when his voice failed him, but finally managed to croak, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When she withdrew her hand and resumed eating, Peter regretted the loss of her comforting touch. She clearly sensed she’d broached a sensitive subject and deftly turned the conversation toward more benign topics. Local sports, favorite restaurants, their shared interest in old movies. They chatted amiably through the rest of dinner, then split a decadent chocolate dessert. Peter found a rapport with Patrick’s teacher that both put him at ease and filled him with the excitement of a promising new relationship.
He couldn’t explain why Lisa Navarre had gotten under his skin when no other woman since Katie had, but the truth was unavoidable. Lisa challenged him, made him rethink aspects of his life he’d too long taken for granted. She reached deep into his soul with her honesty, her warmth, her understanding. Her beautiful smile and womanly curves woke a desire in him he’d denied for a long time. Yet…
I don’t date.
If losing Katie still hurt after ten years, he couldn’t imagine how much pain he’d suffer if he fell in love with Lisa, just to have her walk away. But Lisa had her own demons to battle, and Peter respected her honesty about her past, her reasons not
to date.
After the waiter took their plates and left to get their bill, Peter leaned back in the booth and cocked his head. “You know what I wonder?”
Lisa wiped her mouth and sat back with a satisfied sigh. “What?” she asked, grinning.
“If we’d met years ago, before either of us married, before any of the mess we’re both dealing with now ever happened…”
Her expression sobered, grew pensive, wistful. “Would we have had the same connection then that we have now?” she finished for him.
So she felt the bond, the magnetic attraction, too? Peter’s spirits lifted…until he remembered the obstacles they faced.
Her infertility issues. His gnawing grief over Katie’s death. The unsolved attacks on his family.
He flashed a small smile. “Yeah, that.”
She held his gaze with eyes full of regret and longing, and a ripple of warmth tripped down his spine. “I guess we’ll never know.”
On Sunday, Peter took Lisa’s advice and made a point of spending time with Patrick—making pancakes together in the morning, tossing the football in the back yard, helping him finish an essay and poster on the Boston Tea Party for school. Working with Patrick on his homework brought thoughts of his dinner with Lisa to mind. While they hadn’t gotten the payoff tip from Tess Cantrell that he’d hoped would help find his father’s murderer, his non-date with Lisa had been better than expected. He’d gotten an intimate glimpse of the woman who’d captured his attention as well as valuable insights to his relationship with Patrick. All of which served to make Lisa even more enticing, more intriguing and more desirable to him. He found himself restlessly anticipating the school’s Fall Festival on Saturday, his next best chance to see Lisa and get to know her.
On Sunday evening as he said goodnight to Patrick, Peter sat on the edge of his son’s bed and broached the topic he’d avoided for years. “Patrick, do you have questions about your mom that you want to ask me?”
P.I. Daddy's Personal Mission Page 9
