by Style, Linda
Rico was torn. If he told Macy the whole story, told her about her father’s involvement, that he’d been the adopting attorney, she’d be deeply hurt. It would also give her carte blanche to find her son. She might do something to screw up the rest of the investigation.
But she’d find out anyway once they arrested Dixon and Brighton, wouldn’t she? “Have you heard from your father within the past two days?”
She barked out a laugh. “No, and I doubt I will. Why?”
Rico took a deep breath.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yes. The department is going to reinvestigate the Ray case. It turns out that many of the young women who went through Haven’s Gate believe they were coerced into giving up their babies. I believe we have enough evidence to make an arrest.”
Her eyes lit up. “Does this mean you have the name of the adoption agency?”
“I do, but…I can’t give that to you.”
A muscle twitched in her jaw. He saw her hands clench into fists. “Then why are you telling me all this?”
Dammit. Because he couldn’t keep something so important from her. “Because I know who can give you that information.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Who?”
“Your father. He worked for Haven’s Gate as their adoption attorney during your stay there.”
The shock on her face made him want to snatch back the words. She didn’t know. He thought she might’ve suspected her father was involved since she knew he had to have signed the adoption papers. Wrong. Rico reached out to her, but she pulled away.
Shock switched to incredulity, incredulity to anger and then rage. She rounded on him. “You’ve known this all along, haven’t you? You’ve been investigating Haven’s Gate based on the information I gave you and you couldn’t trust me with what you discovered — even knowing my son had been illegally taken from me!” She shook with anger, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe this is happening.” She sagged into the chair and covered her face with her hands.
He knelt in front of her. “I didn’t keep anything from you that could be shared. Hell, I shouldn’t be telling you this now because we haven’t made any arrests yet. But if I’d told you before we had all the information to nail these people, and it got out, I never would have had a lead on the Ray case.”
Macy’s hands dropped to her lap. “You didn’t trust me.”
“I couldn’t take the chance. I gave you more information than I’ve ever given any civilian.”
She looked thoughtful, as if just realizing something. “Did you say you have a lead on the Ray case?”
He nodded. “I think so. We’re waiting for the test results. I haven’t told the child’s parents yet, because I know how disappointing it would be if this kid turns out not to be their son.” He leaned back, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“How did you find him? Did Haven’s Gate have something to do with it?” Her voice was an even monotone, as if her anger had faded — or all the fight had gone out of her. She slipped from the chair to the floor and sat next to him.
“No, but information on the old case is what led us to him. If it’s really true.”
“I hope it’s true. I can only imagine the mother’s joy if it is.” She looked down.
He realized that as happy as Macy was that he might’ve found Chelsey’s child, she wished it was her own son who’d been found. Her hands were trembling, and he wanted to engulf her in his arms, to comfort her. He wanted to tell her everything. But he couldn’t. Her father had to tell her the rest.
“I’m sorry about your father, Macy. Sorry I had to be the one to tell you.”
She stiffened. “So why did you?”
He looked into her eyes. “I thought you needed to know.” And because he loved her and couldn’t bear to see her unhappiness.
Leaning forward, elbows on her knees, she seemed to struggle for words. “I appreciate your telling me about my father — even though you think it’s wrong for me to want to find my son.”
He took her hands. “I don’t think it’s wrong for you to want to find him. That’s natural. But I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Rico rubbed a hand against his chin. He’d never told anyone, except Jordan. “My sister Maria had a child when she was sixteen. She gave the baby up for adoption. It was a girl. Eighteen years later, the child decided to find her biological mother. She said she was pregnant and needed her family’s medical history. The girl found Maria, but my sister had a new life. Her husband and children didn’t know anything about the child she’d had.”
“And?” Macy asked expectantly.
“My sister rejected her. Maria didn’t want anything to do with the girl. She especially didn’t want her husband and children to know. Heartbroken, Maria’s daughter found me, hoping to make some kind of family connection.”
“Was she pregnant?”
He nodded, his words choking in his throat as they came out. “I referred her to Haven’s Gate. Chelsey Ray is Maria’s daughter. My niece.”
“Oh, Lord.” She slumped forward, forehead against her raised knees. After a moment, she sat up and flipped her hair back. “That’s why Maria looked so familiar. I saw the photos of Chelsey in the case file. Maria and Chelsey have the same unusual eye color.”
“Yes, and it was your feeling of déjà vu that had me thinking in different directions. When I interviewed the grandmother of one of the girls who’d been at Haven’s Gate, the woman was taking care of a little boy, and I noticed something familiar about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I realized later, it was the eyes. He had the same green eyes.”
Macy slid next to him and took his hand. “You referred your niece to Haven’s Gate. That’s why you felt responsible for the baby’s abduction.”
“Logically I knew I wasn’t responsible, but I carried it with me every day. In addition, I broke the rules. I shouldn’t have worked the case, but no one knew she was my niece. I was too close and I screwed it up.”
“Knowing you, I doubt you screwed it up. But now I know why you were so adamant about seeing Cody.”
He nodded. “For all the good it did me.”
“I’m sorry. If I’d known—”
“Nothing would’ve changed. You had a job to do.”
“Like you.”
He felt as if something significant had just passed between them. Understanding. Forgiveness.
“So, what happened with Chelsey and Maria?”
“Nothing. It’s sad. Maria didn’t want a relationship with Chelsey — she didn’t want her family to know. Chelsey was heartbroken, but after a while, she accepted it. I see her once in a while, but not often. She’s happy with her own family, and now, if this works out, she’ll be even happier.”
“It’ll work out. I know it will.” Macy was quiet. “So it won’t bother you then that there was no DNA match for Cody?”
He gave a wry smile. “I knew when I saw him there wouldn’t be.”
She leaned back, her weight on her hands behind her. “I had a message from the social worker that a woman called today to say she thinks she’s Cody’s aunt. I hope it’s true. He’s such a precious boy, he doesn’t deserve what he’s been through. No child does.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, emotionally spent. Hercules jumped into his lap. “Hey little guy.” He rubbed behind the dog’s ears. If Macy disappeared from his life, he’d never see Hercules again. What an odd thought. But that’s when he knew he couldn’t let that happen.
“So, where do we go from here?” Macy said on a long breath.
She was talking about the case, but he took the opportunity to change the subject. “You could come back to my place.”
She frowned. “Am I still in danger?”
“No, you could come back because you want to. Because I want you to.”
Macy pushed to her feet. She rubbed her forehead as if she might have a headache. “Please don’t do this, Rico. I can’t. Not now.”
&n
bsp; He stood, too, and gripped her shoulders so she had to look at him. “I love you, Macy. We’d have lots of things to work out, but I think we could do it.”
Macy’s breath hitched. She couldn’t let this go on. God knew, she wanted more than anything to spend the rest of her life with Rico. “There are things that can’t be worked out, Rico.”
“Anything can be worked out if we love each other. If you love me we can do it. If you don’t, then it doesn’t matter.”
What could she say? He didn’t know all the facts, and if he did, he’d probably say things he’d regret later.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
Tears blurred her vision. She loved him so much she hurt. She should tell him she didn’t love him and be done with it. But she couldn’t bear to hurt him that way. Finally she said, “Yes. I love you.”
He started to smile.
“But love isn’t enough.”
His hands fell to his sides. When he spoke his voice was as cold as ice. “Not enough for what? Is it the money? You can’t imagine a future with someone beneath you?”
“Oh, God.” She turned away. “That’s so far from the truth it’s laughable. I live in my grandfather’s condo and the office I use also belongs to him. The money I receive from my trust supports me, and the money from my cases goes right back into the business to help people who can’t help themselves. And I’d give up every penny I have if it made one iota of difference to us. But it doesn’t.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “If it isn’t the money, what is it?”
She had to tell him or he’d always wonder what he’d done wrong. “A few years ago, I had an ovarian infection that left me sterile.”
He stared at her, blank.
“I can’t have children, Rico.”
“That’s it? That’s why you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
She nodded.
A big smile preceded his response. “This is too funny.”
“Excuse me?”
He led her to sit on the couch. Placing his hands on her arms, he said, “Why do you think I haven’t gotten married?”
“Your mother says it’s your job.”
He shook his head. “No, what do you think?”
“You told me you haven’t found the right woman.”
“That’s right. And the right woman is you. I don’t care about having children. I care about you.”
“You said…you wanted a houseful of children.”
“I always say that. In my family, that’s the expectation. Everyone believes I’ll follow the Santini tradition, and it’s always been easier to go along with it. Yes, I’ve used my job and all kinds of excuses for not getting married, but I can’t do that anymore.”
His eyes locked with hers. “I can’t do that anymore because I met you. I love you and I want us to have a future together. Kids or no kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, but I don’t need them.”
Despite Rico’s words, Macy shook her head. “It’s so complicated. When a person gives up something and it’s not his choice, resentment is bound to creep in.”
He blinked. “I don’t have an answer for that. I can’t predict the future.” He frowned suddenly as if he’d just realized something. “That’s why it’s so important for you to find your son. Isn’t it?”
Macy took a wobbly breath. “He’s the only child I’ll ever have and he’s out there somewhere. I need to know if he’s happy. Let him know I didn’t give him away.”
“There are ways to do that without disrupting his life. You can register with an agency that reunites biological parents with children who wish to be reunited. Someday he may contact you and then you could tell him.”
“Or he may not be interested.”
“That’s a possibility. You could also write a letter to him and ask your father to give it to the adoptive parents. They could decide whether to give it to him or not when he’s older.”
“Like that would ever happen.”
“Just a thought.”
“I see you’ve done some research on this.”
“A little.”
“I could also get the name of the adoptive parents from my father and go see him myself.”
“You could.”
But he didn’t think she should. “Why are you telling me all this when you think it’s so wrong?”
“Because I love you,” he said without hesitation.
“And that’s worth going against your principles?”
“You were right. What you do is not my decision to make. And I also believe you’ll do the right thing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MACY SAT IN HER CAR and stared at her parents’ home. The mausoleum where she’d spent half her life. She wasn’t as confident in her own judgment as Rico seemed to be.
Even though he’d said he loved her and would be happy without children, she couldn’t let him make that sacrifice. It would mean living under the specter of resentment for the rest of her life. She’d done that for too long already. She didn’t see any way to resolve the issue.
She had to see her son. And her father had the information to enable her to do that. Boosting her courage with the mental image of what her boy might look like now, she stepped from the car, walked up the steps to the front door and rang the bell.
Did her son have Jesse’s dark hair and eyes? Or was he blond and fair like her? It was hard to imagine.
“Macy, I’m so glad you’re here.” Hillary, the housekeeper, practically pulled her inside. “Your mother packed her things and left. She said she was going to a hotel and would call you later.”
“She left? By herself?” Macy didn’t know what planet she’d just landed on, but it wasn’t one she recognized. “Why?”
“She said she could no longer live with your father and she was going to make a new life for herself.”
Macy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her mother was the most helpless person she knew. She sure could understand her mother’s feelings, but why now? She’d lived the same way for thirty years.
“I know it’s not my place to say, but frankly I’m worried about her.”
“It’ll be okay, Hillary. I’ll check on her.” Macy tried to calm the woman who’d worked for her mother since before Macy’s parents were married. “Is my father here?”
The housekeeper motioned toward the library.
“Thanks. I’ll call you later after I hear from my mother.” Then she marched into her father’s study without knocking.
Wesley was sitting at his desk. He jerked his head up when she entered, obviously surprised to see her. She was surprised by him, too. He was unshaven, his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them, his hair was unkempt and the room reeked of alcohol.
She’d never seen him like this, not even on weekends when she was growing up. But whatever was happening between her father and mother wasn’t as important to her as getting the truth about her child.
“I came to get the name of the couple who adopted my son.”
Wesley leaned back in his chair, raising one hand in a weak dismissal. “Your mother’s gone. She’s left me.”
“I know. And if that’s what she wants, I say good for her. I want the name of the people who adopted my child.”
“I can’t give you that.”
“Why not? Would it be unethical?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. “I’m sorry but I think you crossed that line twelve years ago. Maybe even before that when you started working for Haven’s Gate.”
Wesley pushed to his feet, went to the bar and poured himself another drink.
“I’m going to get it one way or another, even if I have to get the media involved.”
He downed his drink in one swallow, swaying a little as he did. “Don’t threaten me, Macy. It didn’t work with your detective friend and it won’t work for you.”
Detective friend? Had Rico talked to her father? “What do you mean? What won’t wor
k?”
“Blackmail. Your detective said he’d do the same thing if I didn’t tell you the truth. But like everyone else, he was blowing smoke. Keep this up and you’ll be sorry.”
“I’ll be sorry! Why? What are you going to do to me? You gave away the only child I’ll ever have, so anything else pales in comparison.”
After refreshing his drink, Wesley grunted, resigned. “I can’t do it because it would ruin everything I’ve worked for. It would destroy me — beyond what your stupid mother is trying to do.”
She walked over and placed her hands on the desk in front of him and leaned forward. Keeping her voice even, she said, “I don’t give a damn about you.”
“You’d better leave or I’ll call the police.”
Macy felt cold. Very cold.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re no longer my daughter.’
She straightened, shoulders back. “Was I ever? When did you ever make me feel I was important to you? When did you ever tell me you loved me?”
“I did everything for you and this is what I get for it. Well I’m done. You won’t see a penny of my money.”
She crossed the room to leave, then stopped and looked back. “You know, that’s really funny. Because you never did anything for me except tell me how I wasn’t good enough. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you.” Her veins pulsed with wasted anger and hurt and bitterness.
“I never cared about the money!” she spat out. “ Ever. And it’s all you cared about. You didn’t care about Mother or me. I hope she takes all the Delacourt money and leaves you penniless.”
“Get out!”
“Gladly. You’re a pitiful man, and I’m ashamed to say you’re my father.” Macy walked out of the room, her heartache burning like fire in her gut. All her life she’d hoped that someday her father would tell her he loved her.
At the front door, Hillary stopped her.
“Take this,” the housekeeper said and handed her an envelope. Macy’s name was on the outside in her mother’s scroll-like handwriting. “She told me to give this to you.”
Macy sat in the car and took a paper from the envelope. Blinking back tears, she read her mother’s apology for keeping such an important thing from her and that she hoped someday Macy could forgive her. I know this won’t make up for anything, but I finally found this information, she’d written. Reading on, Macy’s heart literally stopped at the next sentence. Oh my God!
