Dancing with Fire

by Susan Kearney

  Kaylin thumbed through the old will and found another document stuck between the pages. “This is odd.”

  “What?” Sawyer wasn’t concerned. Henry had been of sound mind and body when he’d redone his will, which provided a clause that nullified the previous ones, but Kaylin sounded upset, and her eyes were filled with turmoil.

  Kaylin held up the document between two fingers as if reluctant to touch it. “This is an agreement between Quinn and my father stating they’d share the proceeds of any patents or formulas my father developed during his lifetime.”

  His lifetime? Why would he sign such a document? Had Quinn been blackmailing his friend? Something wasn’t right. In his will Henry had said nothing about Quinn. He’d left half to his girls, the other half to Sawyer.

  Kaylin squinted at the messy handwriting. “This is dated about a year after Dad’s paper mill patent, but there’s no termination date. It’s open-ended.” Kaylin handed Sawyer the old agreement, her brows knotted. “Why would Dad have signed this?”

  Sawyer tried to think of something positive and couldn’t. “Maybe Quinn was an investor in your father’s business.”

  “This was years ago. Is this claim still legal?”

  Sawyer didn’t know. He supposed they could check old bank records for canceled checks from Quinn to see if he’d bought a stake in Henry’s business. “If this agreement is legitimate, it could mean that if the biodiesel formula works, Quinn would be entitled to a share.”

  She peered hard at the document. “One half. We’ll have to ask Mr. Lansky where we stand.” Kaylin sighed. “I wish I knew what this is about.”

  “You think it’s possible that Quinn got tired of waiting for a return on his investment?”

  Kaylin eyed Sawyer with a troubled expression. “He wouldn’t be human if he hadn’t gotten impatient after waiting all those years. I don’t know how my mother stood it, day after day, month after month, year after year, living on a shoestring and promises that never came true.”

  “You sound angry with her.”

  Kaylin sighed. “I suppose I am. If she hadn’t been working three jobs, she might not have gotten sick. She might still be alive.”

  “I used to do the same thing.”

  “What?”

  “Play what if about my parents’ car accident. What if they’d stayed home with me that day? What if the drunk driver who hit them had been ten minutes later or earlier? What if I’d been in the car? Would I have seen the drunk coming and warned them?”

  “You probably would have died with them.”

  “Yeah. At some point I just accepted they weren’t ever coming back and moved on. It’s not easy.” Sensing her discomfort, he changed the subject. “Maybe Quinn killed Henry and stole his formula to cash in.”

  “After twenty-plus years?” Kaylin shook her head. “We don’t even know if Quinn’s still alive.”

  “With a little effort we could find out. I think we should look him up. See what he’s doing now.”

  “It’ll have to wait. I still need to go to Orlando.” She closed the box and locked it away, taking only the letter of agreement between Quinn and her father.

  Looking through the box seemed to have tired her emotionally. He held out his hand for the keys. “Want me to drive?”

  She cocked her head to one side. “You know how you said you felt like an outsider with our family?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yeah, you did. It was in the subtext.”

  “Huh?”

  “Every dancer knows body language. You were still, too still.”

  “So?”

  “So, this could get nasty.”

  “Nasty?” He had no idea what she was talking about, but he was more certain than ever he didn’t want her to face any nastiness alone. “I never figured you for a pessimist.”

  “I’m a realist. If my grandmother didn’t want to see my mother on her deathbed simply because she hated my father, what are the chances she’ll be open to meeting his children?”

  He’d assumed her grandparents weren’t alive. Her statement rocked him. He’d never figured Henry had so many secrets. “Henry never said a word—”

  “Yeah, well, Dad lied to us, but I’m guessing he had good reasons. Mr. Lansky filled me in, and my grandmother sent a note to him, offering us her help. I haven’t told Becca or Lia yet. Until I meet our grandmother and decide what to do, they don’t need to know, at least not right now. They’ve been through enough.”

  So had she. But she was protecting her sisters again, and he admired her for it. Between their father’s death and the robbery, they’d suffered enough grief. Yet Kaylin had been through that, too, and he wished he could spare her some of the pain. “So why are we going there now?”

  “Because if she’ll take in my sisters for a while, they’ll be safe.” Her tone was grim, determined. And he hoped for her sake her relative had changed.

  20

  KAYLIN’S FIRST view of her grandmother’s home was of a driveway of gracefully arching brick pavers lined with royal palms. All this money, and yet Kaylin figured the woman couldn’t be happy. What kind of person could disown her own daughter? Despite the heat, she shivered.

  The huge house had a many-gabled roof covered in an acre of barrel tiles. Sweeping balconies, lush landscaping, and a sculptured lawn made the house picture-perfect for the cover of Architectural Digest. Kaylin, already jumpy after Sawyer had tailed another car through the entrance to get past the electronic gate, half expected security to pull up at any moment and escort them off the premises. Or arrest them.

  They were trespassing. Uninvited.

  “Did Witman ever e-mail you that offer?” she asked, realizing she should have questioned him during the drive over and maybe saved herself a trip. With a deal, with the promise of a contract and funds, she might not have to go inside. With enough money, she could afford to send her sisters someplace safe.

  “Nothing came in, but I could call him.” Sawyer sounded reluctant. “But we don’t want to seem eager, or he’ll lower his price.”

  “So I have to go in.” She shoved open the car door.

  “I’m not letting you go inside alone.”

  “That’s not a good idea.” She shook her wrists as if to shake away the tension.

  “You don’t want me?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s not that.” She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to explain our relationship.”

  “I’m your father’s business partner. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

  She nodded, giving in. She really wanted him there. She trusted his judgment and knew he’d back her. Kaylin straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and headed for the front door, wondering if she’d be allowed to step one foot inside.

  “Ready?” Sawyer asked.

  “Yes.”

  Sawyer rang the bell.

  Rosebushes on both sides of the grand columns led to the entrance. She was no expert, but they appeared to be the same variety her mother had planted. God. Was that why her mother had loved them so? Had she brought cuttings from home? Had tending those bushes made her feel closer to the parents who’d rejected her?

  Kaylin’s throat tightened, and she started to reach for Sawyer’s hand. But the door opened, and she placed her hands behind her back to hide their shaking.

  A tall, slender woman with immaculately coiffed white hair, pearls, and a designer suit stood there, her piercing green eyes shocked, her face paling. “Kaylin?”

  Her grandmother recognized her. “Mrs. Carstairs?”

  In one short movement, Mrs. Carstairs swept her into her arms. “Call me Grandmother.”

  Kaylin was suddenly enveloped in a fierce embrace and a cloud of expensive scent. Despite her grandmother’s offer of help in
the note to Mr. Lansky, of all the scenarios she’d imagined, a warm, teary-eyed welcome hadn’t been one of them. Stunned and confused, she nevertheless felt the tension inside her ease. For the first time in a while, Kaylin dared to hope the family relationships could move in a positive direction.

  Her grandmother released her and stood back, but kept a hand on her shoulder. A tear glimmered in the corner of her eye. “Sorry. Here you finally come to visit, and I’m smothering you. You’ll think I’m senile. Come in. Come in. Let’s sit down and be comfortable.”

  She’d finally come to visit? That sounded almost as if she was expected. Baffled by the greeting, Kaylin looked at Sawyer. He shrugged but gave her a smile and then motioned her to follow her grandmother, who clearly expected them to come along. Kaylin took a deep breath and released it slowly, totally curious.

  She knew she looked like her mother, but not only had her grandmother recognized her, she’d known her name. At least the woman had been happy to see her. It seemed unbelievable, and though Kaylin didn’t understand what was going on, her curiosity raged.

  She barely glanced at the old black-and-white photographs of oil wells on the walls that seemed almost out of place among the expensive decor. The house was filled with contemporary classics and fronted an artificial lake. But Kaylin’s mind didn’t focus on the decorator’s skills or the setting, but on the woman leading her into a casual living room.

  Her grandmother possessed smooth skin, devoid of wrinkles or brown spots. No doubt she could afford star-quality spa treatments to preserve her youthful appearance. Fit, she clearly was also in great physical shape, moving like a person twenty years her junior. The swimming pool and tennis court out back might account for her physique, but staying that fit also took determination. The same kind of determination it took to study dance.

  “I have lemonade.” Her grandmother disappeared for a moment and returned with a tray and a crystal pitcher, glasses filled with ice, and a plate of strawberries, raspberries, and pineapple. Wow. She couldn’t have fixed it in the short time she’d been gone, but had it been ready . . . in case company arrived?

  “Are you expecting guests?” Kaylin asked, fingers crossed, hoping they weren’t about to be interrupted.

  “I keep fresh fruit on hand at all times. It helps keep me away from my secret vice. Chocolate.” She didn’t smile as she spoke but set down the tray on a coffee table and poured them each a glass. “You going to introduce me to your young man?”

  Kaylin’s young man? “This is Sawyer Scott. He was Dad’s business partner.”

  Kaylin braced herself for questions about her personal life. But it didn’t happen. Instead, she accepted an icy glass of lemonade and sipped. The sweet-tart flavor told her the drink was made with freshly squeezed lemons and lots of sugar. Nothing but the best for her grandma.

  Her grandmother looked Sawyer in the eye, shook his hand, and turned back to Kaylin. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “Are you?” Kaylin couldn’t keep the sharpness out of her tone and set down the glass. How had her grandmother even known about his death? The explosion had made the local news, but had it reached all the way to Orlando?

  Her grandmother’s tone remained crisp and vibrant, but her eyes revealed sorrow. “Years ago I realized I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by cutting my daughter out of my life. I loved Danielle. Your mother and I were very close.”

  Either she was genuinely sorry for her actions, or she deserved an Academy Award. Kaylin wasn’t inclined to forgive so easily, although she could almost feel Sawyer urging her to do so. To his credit, he remained silent.

  Kaylin thought of her dying mother and kept her back straight. “But you disowned her.”

  Her grandmother folded her hands in her lap. “Danielle was my only child. I wanted the best for her. And I didn’t believe Henry—”

  “Was best?”

  “Was good enough.” Her grandmother’s fingers tensed, the manicured nails biting into her own palms. “You must understand, I didn’t hate Henry. I just wanted Danielle to have financial security. I wanted her to have what I had.” She gestured to her fine home and furnishings. “But Danielle loved him. And she claimed things weren’t important to her. She loved living his dreams. But dreams didn’t pay the bills.” She sighed. “I wanted what I thought was best for Danielle, but I went too far.”

  “When you kicked her out?”

  “I thought if your grandfather and I didn’t help her, she’d come running back home. That she’d see that a life of struggle was hard. Danielle grew up with a horse, a tennis court, a pool in the backyard, and European vacations. Henry couldn’t keep her in the same lifestyle. Unless he got lucky and circumstances changed financially, we didn’t believe she could be happy.”

  Despite herself, Kaylin sort of understood. She’d come here with every intention of taking her mother’s side, yet Kaylin had been responsible for her sisters for too long not to comprehend what had driven her grandmother. After all, Kaylin didn’t really approve of Becca’s guy, Shadee. Although she knew how ridiculous it was to think that, just because Shadee was Middle Eastern, he might be connected to the men who had come to see her father. He might not even be from the same country. Besides, if Becca liked the guy, there had to be a good reason.

  But she and Becca were sisters, not mother and daughter. If Kaylin were Becca’s mother, would she have tried harder to influence her decision?

  She honestly didn’t know. But she would never let things deteriorate to the point where they couldn’t work things out.

  “Why didn’t you write or call or get in touch with Mom after she married? After she had children?”

  “I wanted to.” Her grandmother’s voice dropped, then she picked up her chin in a gesture that reminded Kaylin of herself. “But the stress of losing Danielle took a toll on us. When your mother eloped, Garrett, your grandfather, had a stroke. I spent my days and nights caring for him. Blaming her for putting us through hell.”

  “Garrett might have had a stroke even if Danielle had done as you wished,” Sawyer pointed out.

  “I didn’t say my thoughts were rational. My only excuse was that Garrett was a demanding patient. He wanted only me bathing him. Only me feeding him. Only me giving him his meds. I’m not excusing myself, I’m just telling you how it was.”

  “And you never once had a spare minute to pick up the phone?” Kaylin didn’t buy the story.

  “Danielle could have called, too, made the first step to reconciliation, but she didn’t.”

  “She was busy taking care of her children and working three jobs.” Kaylin spoke the truth, but each word seemed like a slap at her grandmother.

  “I always thought we’d have time to set things right. And I didn’t want Danielle to feel guilty about her father’s health, and Garrett didn’t want her to see him like that. So I let things stay as they were. For too many years. Wasted years.”

  “And when my father came to you, when my mother was dying . . .” Kaylin choked up, and she couldn’t even finish her question. Her stomach twisted so tight, it hurt. Sawyer held her hand, and she hung on, waiting for an answer.

  “I didn’t know your father came here until months later when the house sitter remembered to tell me.”

  House sitter? How bad off could her grandfather’s health have been if he was traveling? “You were away?”

  “In Europe.”

  “On vacation?” Her eyes hardened.

  Her grandmother shook her head. “We were seeking a stem cell treatment to cure Garrett’s paralysis. But it didn’t work, it killed him. I lost my husband and daughter within weeks of one another.” She hung her head and spoke without looking at Kaylin. “I never came to you girls because Henry would have refused me. He had every right to blame us for not helping out. But I didn’t know Danielle was struggling and sick. If I�
�d known, I would have given everything, the oil wells, the house, the private jet to save her. I should never have presumed to know what was right for Danielle. That one stupid decision cost me my entire family. My daughter, my husband, my grandchildren.”

  She stopped talking as if she couldn’t bear to say more. Kaylin’s heart ached. Wealth certainly hadn’t made her grandmother happy. She seemed filled with pain.

  Her grandmother blew her nose on a tissue and spoke hesitantly. “I heard that Danielle and Henry were happy.”

  “They were.” Kaylin could barely speak past the lump in her throat. There had been too much silence. Too much stubbornness. Kaylin made the first step toward reconciliation. “You weren’t all wrong. My mother thought she had the flu and kept working. By the time she sought medical attention and learned she had hepatitis B, it was too late. Her liver had begun to fail. We all loved Dad . . . but he didn’t earn enough to pay the bills, and that’s why Mom worked even when she was sick.”

  “Not a day goes by when I don’t blame myself. If I hadn’t thought I knew best, Garrett might not have had a stroke. If I had known Danielle’s situation, she might still be alive. I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever loved.” Her grandmother said the words softly as tears of guilt and remorse trickled over her face. “I never expected anything to come of the note I sent to your attorney, but still . . . I prayed you might call, and when I actually saw you on my doorstep . . .” She cried harder.

  Kaylin cried with her, and it seemed natural to move into the other woman’s arms. “It’s time you got to know your granddaughters.”

  “I’d like that. More than you could possibly know. But . . .”

  Her grandmother tensed, and Kaylin lifted her head and perused her grandmother’s face. “What?”

  “There’s more.”

  Kaylin looked at Sawyer for help. She wasn’t up for more. She felt drained. Exhausted. Emotionally wrung out. Dealing with another terrible secret might just push her past the point of remaining on an even keel.

  “Why don’t we take a break?” Sawyer suggested, as if reading her mind. At that moment she could have kissed him as he graciously changed the subject. “Maybe you could show us the house?”