by Pat Warren
A frown creased his handsome face. “I thought you were going to play hooky today, that we’d spend the day together.”
“It’s a lovely thought, but I can’t, really. We’re shorthanded at the store. It wouldn’t be fair.” She left the room, started down the hall.
Growing angry, he trailed after her. “You’re exhausted. You hardly slept at all last night. Can’t you give yourself a break?”
“Nick, please!” She stopped at the top of the stairs and faced him. “I have to go to work. Please don’t make deci sions for me. Just drive me to Maggie’s.” She started down the stairs.
They were in the Ford before Nick spoke again. “I’m sorry if I seemed to bully you, Tate. It’s just that I’m so nuts about you and Josh, and I believe you care, too. I really don’t see the point in waiting.”
Staring straight ahead, Tate drew in what she hoped was a calming breath. “Nick, up until now, you didn’t push. I wish you’d have stayed that way. This sort of thing, it’s our whole future. It can’t be rushed. As I told you, I need time. Please understand.”
“I’ll try.” He started the car, turned around and drove down the bumpy dirt road.
She hadn’t seen this side of him before today, this impatience bordering on insistence, this wanting his own way. Even as a young girl, Tate had hated to be hurried into making a decision, especially a life-altering one. She hoped this tendency of Nick’s to want to take over wasn’t an ingrained habit. She’d lived alone with only Josh too long to bend to someone else’s will without serious thought.
Maybe she didn’t know Nick Bennett as well as she thought she did.
Tate came down the stairs and turned to Maggie, already enthroned in her favorite spot on the couch in front of her picture window. “I hate to hurry off, but I don’t want to be late,” she said, fastening her watch. “We’re shorthanded, as usual.”
Maggie’s keen eyes studied the younger woman’s face. At first, knowing that Tate had spent the night with Nick, she’d hoped her young friend would return with a rosy glow, something she hadn’t seen in years. But instead, there was a sadness in Tate’s eyes that bothered Maggie. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes, just rushed. Want me to pick up something for dinner on the way home tonight?”
“If you like. How did Josh take to being left with your aunt and uncle? He didn’t put up a fuss, did he?”
Realizing she hadn’t taken the time to bring Maggie up-to-date, Tate sat down a moment. So she’d be a few minutes late. She owed Maggie the courtesy. “Actually he was asleep when we arrived, but he woke up long enough to say goodbye. I think he’ll be fine. He likes it there, the horses and all. Helen and Joe are thrilled to have him, thank goodness. I’ll call them tonight.”
“I noticed Nick didn’t come in, just dropped you off. I suppose he had to hurry off to work, too, eh?”
Eyes downcast, Tate searched her handbag for her keys. “I imagine so.”
“What’s his house like?”
“It’s going to be lovely. I had no idea he was so talented, although he’d said he’d worked in the family business while going to school. You should see the carved wood banister and the front door. Beautiful work. Of course, it’s not done yet. He has a lot of finish work to do, and decorating.”
“A big house?”
“Yes, four bedrooms, six baths, if you can believe it. And there’s a skylight in the master bedroom that opens electronically. Pretty fancy.” She stood and smiled at Maggie, unaware that the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Maggie asked. “And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong because I can see it in your eyes.”
Maggie always could read her like an open book. With a heavy sigh, Tate sat down again. “It’s all too much too soon. He…he told me he loves me.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, trying to stay in control.
Maggie looked confused. “And that upset you?”
“Upset me, shocked me, surprised me. Maggie, he’s known me less than a month. He walked me through his house, saying things like, Josh would love the pool, and this would be our bedroom. Mentally moving us in with him. Don’t you find that a bit strange? And way premature.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s kind of sweet.”
Maggie was a romantic. “He told me this sweet but highly suspect story about always believing that he’d know the right woman for him the moment he met her.”
“And that woman is you?”
“Apparently. But, despite this…this somewhat overwhelming attraction, we don’t really know each other. And there’s Josh to consider.”
“Josh adores the man.”
“Well, okay, but what about Adam? He’s not going away, is he?”
“Maybe he is.” Maggie reached for the newspaper alongside her, folded to a picture and story beneath. “Read this.”
Hesitantly Tate took the paper. The picture was a recent one of Adam and Angela, his wife, in formal attire taken in front of a fireplace. The article went on to say that Senator and Mrs. Adam Weston had recently purchased a large home in the Catalina foothills near the senator’s mother’s home. They plan on keeping their east coast home as well as their apartment in Washington, but this new house will be their permanent address since they’re soon adopting a young boy.
“Adopting a young boy,” Tate whispered, her blood running cold. “Oh, Lord.”
Maggie frowned. “That’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, I know he’ll be right here in Tucson, but if he adopts a boy, that must mean he’s given up on getting Josh, don’t you think?”
Fear had her heart beating in overtime. “Or that Josh is the young boy he intends to pass on as his adopted son.”
Maggie looked stunned. “Oh, no, dear. He can’t do that, can he?”
“I don’t know. What if he went to the courts, proved by blood samples that he’s the father and took Josh away from me? I’m sure Adam knows several judges who owe him favors. They’d rule in his favor and…I’d lose my son.” The very thought had her voice trembling.
“Maybe you should call Nick,” Maggie suggested.
“And say what? I can’t prove that’s what Adam has in mind. Nick said he wants to marry me and adopt Josh.”
“That sounds like a wonderful solution to me. That is, if you love him. Do you love him, Tate?”
She leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. He’s a terrific guy, one who deserves better than a woman with a carload of baggage she’s been hauling around for years.”
“Now, you stop that! You’re pretty terrific yourself, and I should know. Don’t be putting yourself down. Nick Bennett would be darn lucky to get you.”
Loyalty…it was wonderful. Tate sat up and smiled at her friend. “Thanks for that. But you have to admit, my life is full of complications. Why should Nick take on all that?”
“Personally I can think of only one reason—because he loves you.”
She wanted to believe that. Oh, how badly she wanted to believe that Nick Bennett loved her. And while she was wishing, she might as well wish he’d wave a magic wand and make Adam and all his pals disappear. But the truth was, she’d stopped believing in fairy tales quite a while back.
Studying Adam’s picture again, Tate wished she knew exactly what he was up to.
Rising, she tossed the paper down. “I’ll have to think about this. But for now, I’ve got to get going. Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No, honey, I’m fine.”
Tate picked up her keys just as the phone rang. Her heart fluttered once, then again, thinking Nick was on the other end. What would she say to him? The ride home had been quiet, both of them lost in thought. The sky had darkened with the threat of rain and thunder had rumbled, matching Tate’s mood. When he’d stopped the car in front of Maggie’s, neither one of them made a move to kiss goodbye, rather surprising after the passionate night they’d spent together.
Bracing herself, Tate answered the ph
one.
“Tate, is that you?” a deep, cultivated voice asked.
Her heart lurched as she recognized Adam’s deep tones. For a second, she longed to slam the receiver down, then decided that was too childish. Maybe she could learn his plans if she appeared to cooperate.
“Hello, Adam.” Tate saw Maggie’s eyes widen as she overheard.
“I see you haven’t forgotten me.”
“That would be difficult since you keep sending your long-haired assistant to remind me.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. “Still feisty, I see. I’m glad to hear you haven’t lost your fighting spirit. I always admired that about you.”
“Is that why you called, to compliment me?”
“Not quite.”
“What do you want, Adam?”
“The only thing I’ve ever asked you for—my son.”
“He’s not a thing and you’ll never have him. As a matter of fact, if you don’t stop harassing me and stalking me and hurting my friends through that thug assistant of yours, I’m going to take Josh and we’re both going to go so far underground you’ll never, ever find us.” So much for cooperating, but the man knew exactly which buttons to push to make her react.
The voice became chilled, dangerous. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, that’s your department. I’m only telling you how it will be and I’m dead serious.”
“Now, you listen to me. This is the last time I’m doing this, appealing to your sense of fairness. I’ve had papers drawn up whereby, for a very tidy sum, you hand Josh over to me so that Angela and I can adopt him. He’ll become Adam Weston, Jr. He’ll have everything he’ll ever need—the best education, friends in high places, trips abroad, lessons in sports, music, the arts. One day, he’ll follow in my footsteps, become someone. I can give him all that, Tate.”
There was only silence on the other end, so he continued. “As compared to what you can give him, living in that broken-down house with that pathetic old woman on the pittance you earn at your bookstore. You won’t be able to afford city college for him, much less Harvard, like we can. He’ll be lucky to get some minimum-wage job driving a pizza delivery truck under your guidance. Be reasonable, Tate. Think of the boy, not yourself. Be generous to him, not selfish. Give him this chance.”
Tate’s grip on the phone was so tight her knuckles turned white. Tears of frustration swam in her eyes, but she ruthlessly blinked them back. She wished with all her heart that what he was saying wasn’t more than a little true. What could she offer Josh?
Feeling he was gaining on her, Adam went on. “These papers are quite legal. You relinquish all parental rights and I sign off on any child support from you. You turn him over to us and you need never see him again. And Tate, I promise you, I’ll take very good care of him.”
He’d thought of everything, hadn’t he? The only reason Adam wanted Josh was to turn him into a little clone of himself, so he could show him off. He didn’t know Josh, didn’t love him. This was like a business deal to him, papers drawn up nice and neatly, sign away your child and here’s your check.
The bastard.
With difficulty, she found her voice. “Would you raise him to be like you, Adam?” she asked quietly.
Smelling victory, Adam put a smile in his voice. “Yes, yes, exactly. Basketball, college, Harvard Law. I’d introduce him to the right people, groom him slowly for politics. He is, after all, my blood. Then, when it’s time to choose a wife, he’d have his pick of suitable mates. The good life, Tate. And speaking of that, you wouldn’t have to work anymore, either. Not with the money I’m giving you. You could relax, travel, see the world.”
“I see.”
Adam took that as an acceptance. “Good, good. I’d like you to meet with me at my attorney’s office tomorrow at eleven. Bring your own attorney, if you like, of course. I’ll have the check and you produce Josh. You must know, as I do, down deep inside, that this is the best decision for our son.”
“Adam?” Tate said, her voice cool, collected.
“Yes?”
“Go to hell.” She slammed the receiver down and collapsed into the desk chair, her stomach heaving. Unable to control her body, she hurried to the downstairs bath and lost her morning coffee.
Moving slowly, Tate brushed her teeth and applied a cold cloth to her face. Finally she walked into the living room and told Maggie about her conversation with Adam.
“Oh, that terrible man,” Maggie said. “Can’t he see that taking Josh from you would devastate the boy?”
“He sees only what he wants to see.” She brushed back her hair, trying to think, to plan. Adam had decided to do this legitimately, which had to mean he couldn’t operate outside the law because he had no idea where Josh was. That, at least, was good.
Should she take a chance, leave everything and everyone here, go join Josh at Helen and Joe’s? As much as she wanted to protect her son, she had no right to expect those two lovely people to take them both in indefinitely. Besides, she had a hunch that with Adam’s resources, if she made him angry enough by skipping out now, he’d find them sooner or later.
Where could she go, what could she do, to escape him?
“What are you going to do, Tate?” Maggie asked gently.
“I honestly don’t know.” Wearily she walked to the phone and dialed Brennan’s Book Emporium. Her assistant, Dave Anderson, answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Dave. It’s Tate. Listen, something’s come up and I’ve got to take a personal day. Can you handle things?”
“Of course. Are you all right?”
She doubted she’d be all right ever again. “I just have something I have to take care of. If I can, I’ll check in later, okay?”
“Sure, Tate. You can count on me.”
Thank goodness for that, she thought as she hung up.
Maggie shifted on the couch. “Tate, dear, please call Nick. He’d want to know about that phone call.”
So he could do what, pressure her even more intensely to marry him and let him handle her problem? A part of Tate, the soul-weary part that had carried this burden alone far too long, wanted to phone this minute and hand everything over to Nick, to accept the safety net of his strong arms.
But not the independent part, the hard-fought, hard-won side of her that knew this was her problem, her mistake in choosing Adam in the first place, and her dilemma to solve. Although her throat ached with tears, she refused to give in to them. She wasn’t some helpless little flower needing a man to take care of her, to make everything right. Josh, his safety and well-being, was her responsibility and no one else’s.
She had to think, to find a way out.
Tate tossed her keys into her handbag, left both on the table. “Maggie, I’m going for a walk. A long walk. I need to think things through. Maybe I’ll call Nick later.” And maybe not. If she decided to leave, it would be best if she made a clean break. Though he owned a large part of her heart, she’d adjust somehow. She’d handled tough decisions before.
Maggie glanced out the window, saw the heavy rain clouds gathering. “Honey, it’s going to rain any second.”
Tate gave her a tight smile. “It’s summer, a warm rain. I won’t melt. Don’t worry about me, Maggie. I’ll be okay.” With that, she went out on the porch and closed the door behind her.
Maggie watched her young friend hurry down the steps and start along the sidewalk, head bowed, hands in the pockets of her slacks. Even if thunder hadn’t rumbled overhead just then, she’d have begun to worry. Tate shouldn’t be alone right now, out walking when she was so upset, with a storm about to begin.
Hating to interfere, yet seeing no other way out, Maggie picked up the phone.
Chapter 11
“How in hell did this guy get a gun in jail?” Lou asked, crouching down behind a large trash container alongside his partner in a filthy alley in South Tucson.
“I doubt that it was smuggled in,” Nick answered. “Security’s pretty tight at Pima
County Jail, for visitors, that is. I don’t doubt that he got it right there from some con.”
They heard shuffling noises, then a crashing sound as a trash can down at the far end was upended, its sickly sweet contents spilling onto the alley floor. The rain beat down in a steamy spray, soaking the two cops as well as their prey hiding somewhere ahead of them. Then it was quiet again. Too quiet, Nick thought.
After dropping Tate off, he’d decided to go in to the precinct after all. There seemed no point in going back to his mobile home and brooding. He’d checked in and tried catching up on the paperwork all cops hate when Lou got the call. Jorge Espinoza had escaped.
They’d rushed out, but it had taken them nearly two hours to pick up Jorge’s trail. Apparently he’d hijacked a car and forced the driver to take him to South Tucson, his old neighborhood. From there he’d set out on foot, according to the frightened driver. Finally Nick and Lou had spotted him on a deserted street walking fast, tucked close up against a section of old, abandoned warehouses. Jorge’s survival instincts on alert, he’d glanced over his shoulder, seen them and ducked into the first alley.
Only he hadn’t known it came to a dead end with a back wall fifteen feet high, further caged in by three-story buildings on either side.
“Where do you suppose he was headed?” Lou whispered, shifting to a more comfortable crouch.
“Probably looking to connect with some of his old pals who might hide him. Or someone to bankroll him so he can make it to the Mexican border. He’s got relatives there. I’m sure he didn’t like jail, waiting for his trial and knowing he’ll get convicted and sent to prison. His buddies undoubtedly told him that jail’s bad enough, but prison is the worst.”
“He should have thought about that when he decided to stalk his wife and kill her.” Lou had no patience with domestic violence offenders.
Nick used his small flashlight to check his watch. “We’ve had him cornered here twenty minutes. He can’t go anywhere. Does he think we’re going to walk away?”
