by Susan Crosby
“You’re welcome.”
She tried to give him a casual smile, but it felt forced now that she figured Kevin was watching closely.
“Night, Kevin,” James said.
“Night.” A lifetime of politeness drilled into him by his mother came with the single word.
She and Kevin climbed the stairs. She’d seen her assigned guest room only to unpack her clothing after Cassie brought the bags, and found it as beautiful as the rest of the house, with a delicate four-poster bed and rose-printed quilt. She couldn’t wait to sink into the big, inviting bed. She needed to stay awake long enough to talk to James, however. She would keep no more secrets from him.
“You okay here?” Kevin asked at her door.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“This doesn’t seem totally lame to you? Hanging with the guy who, you know.”
“I’m just grateful he’s in our lives at the moment. I don’t think I could’ve handled another threat alone.”
“You shouldn’t have handled the first one alone.” Accusation was in his voice, but not bitterly so.
“I realize that now.”
“I can take care of you, you know. Dad would want me to.”
“I know. It’s nice to have help, though, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
She patted his cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned toward her room.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“From the look on your face earlier, I’m guessing you don’t want me to date Venus.”
Not now, Kevin, she wanted to say. Not now. “Five years is a big difference at your age.”
His jaw twitched; his face flushed red. “She…she doesn’t have any more, you know, experience…than I do.”
The fact he revealed such personal information about himself, as well as Venus, gave Caryn hope. She’d thought he’d stopped confiding in her. “I like Venus, Kev. She’s a sweet girl. Just don’t be in a hurry.”
“Emmaline said the same thing.”
The more Caryn knew of James’s mother, the more she liked her. “I know your dad gave you the sex talk—”
“And the protection talk. You don’t need to. Really. We’re not…there, Mom. We’re just friends.” He hurried away then.
She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or happy. Both, she guessed. She was going to have to let go of him. She could see he’d matured in the past year in ways she hadn’t recognized. Time to remember that he was no longer a child, but fast becoming a man.
She put on her red flannel pajamas, yellow fleece robe and blue fuzzy slippers then looked in the mirror. Nope. Nothing sexy about that look. Her lipstick had faded away long ago. She hadn’t replaced it and didn’t now. She found the letter from Paul and tucked it in her pocket.
Then she sat on her bed to wait until the rest of the household slept.
James knew he was cheating by taking a stack of the papers to his bedroom instead of just going to sleep, but there was no way he would fall asleep, at least not for long, not while there was a threat to Caryn or Kevin.
The finances were complicated and not his forte. One of the ARC partners was married to a CPA, also an investigator in the firm. James would call first thing in the morning and see if she could fly up and take over that aspect of the investigation, even though it was Saturday. James was looking for anything unusual that jumped out at him. So far all he knew for sure was that Paul made a lot of money for the work he did, yet less than half went into the family bank accounts.
He piled the papers into stacks then carried them downstairs. On his way back to his room he put an ear to Kevin’s door. Nothing. No sound. James had heard him talking earlier, probably on his cell phone to Venus, even though it was after midnight.
James moved on to Caryn’s door. Silence from there, too. He leaned against the doorjamb, flattened his hand on the door. He liked having them there, liked knowing there were people in the beds. He would’ve liked it a whole lot more if Caryn had been sharing his room instead of sleeping alone.
On a whim he turned the door handle and slipped inside. She hadn’t turned off the light in the adjoining bathroom, so he could see her on top of her bed, curled into a ball at the foot, asleep. Even though she wore a robe and slippers, she looked cold. And cute, like a teenager at a slumber party, in her bright colors.
He debated what to do. Pull the quilt over her where she lay, or tuck her in bed, where she would probably sleep better, all in all. One action probably wouldn’t wake her; the other probably would.
James watched her for a little while. She didn’t look peaceful. Her expression changed, as if acting out a dream, one filled with events that made her frown. He wished he could stroke her hair, soothe her into a better dream.
Deciding she would be pretty ticked that he was staring at her while she slept, he folded back the bedding as far as he could without folding it on top of her. From the bottom of the bed he lifted her.
“Shh,” he said when she jolted awake and held up a fist. “It’s just me. You fell asleep on top of the bed.”
She relaxed slightly. “Oh.”
“You looked cold.” He set her down closer to the pillows, then bent to take off her slippers, gave her feet a brief massage. He could feel her staring at the top of his head and wished she would say something. Anything.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
It wasn’t what he’d had in mind, he thought with a half smile. He probably should’ve been more specific in his request. He stood. “See you in the…well, later.”
“James, wait.” She looked away then back again. “I had been trying to stay awake so I could talk to you.” She slipped her hand in her robe pocket and pulled out an envelope. “After I found the letter you sent Paul with your updated address and saw it had been sent to a private mail service, I contacted them. There was one letter in his box that had been there a long time. It was addressed to me, so they released it. Apparently Paul hadn’t given them a viable home address and had paid for the box for two years. They’d been trying to figure out what to do with it. Which is a long explanation for what I’m going to show you now. Paul mailed this letter two days before he died.”
James sat beside her on the bed. She got up and walked away, keeping her back to him as he opened it and read the single page inside.
Dearest Car,
If you are reading this letter, I am no longer with you. I’m so sorry I made a mess of everything. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. I got in too deep. Know that I love you and Kev more than life.
Love always,
Paul
James folded the note, replaced it in the envelope. He didn’t wonder why she hadn’t shared the letter before. He knew why. “What’s your take on it?” James asked Caryn.
“He owed too much, and he couldn’t pay. He figured they were about to do harm. They probably knew he had insurance to cover the debt.”
James waited.
“Or,” she said, her voice shaking. “He ran away. Couldn’t face what he’d done.”
James came up behind her, slid his arms around her. Her body shook. After a moment, she turned around and burrowed against him. He stroked her hair, held her tight.
“We can’t tell Kevin,” she said, her voice strong and sure. “Not unless we find out for sure. He has the right to know the truth—when we know the truth. All right? I don’t want him to think his father took the coward’s way out.”
“Yes.” The answer wouldn’t change the investigation, nor how they ran it. “So, you’ve known this for how long?”
“Since the day before I staked out your house.”
“Do you think he could’ve run away?”
“Everything inside me says no. But the letter…”
“Is ambiguous.” He leaned back enough to frame her face. “It doesn’t change your mind, though, and make you believe as Kevin does, that someone murdered him? If they knew about the insurance
, that would be motive enough.”
“Either way it’s awful. The police say it was an accident. I desperately want to believe that.”
“The police didn’t have this information. It might make a difference,” he said, “depending on what the other facts are—something we won’t know until we have all the information.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Anything else you’re keeping from me?”
She shook her head. “That’s it. I promise.”
He tucked her close again. “Okay.”
“I was too sheltered. Paul took care of everything. That’s never going to happen again.”
It sounded like a warning, one he didn’t need. He understood she was a changed woman from a year ago. Who wouldn’t be under the same circumstances? Truth was, he liked this woman. He wasn’t too sure he would’ve wanted someone who deferred to him about everything.
“I should go,” he said.
She’d been up on tiptoe. He hadn’t realized it until she let her heels touch the floor, taking some of her height away. It swamped him with tenderness, although he didn’t know why. He held her hand as they walked to the door. He kissed her lightly, briefly. She threw her arms around him and dragged herself close.
He didn’t make even token resistance but hauled her up and kissed her, opening her mouth, finding her tongue, savoring her. He ran his hands down her back, cupped her rear, brought her closer still, aligning their hips, moving against her. She gasped. He kissed her deeper. She groaned. He kissed her harder. She begged wordlessly. He shoved her robe over her shoulders and put his mouth over her breast, the flannel drying his mouth.
He unbuttoned her top and found her flesh, the soft and the hard of her. She arched her back, offering herself, and he dragged his tongue under the soft flesh and over the hard, then he drew her nipple into his mouth, toying with it, teasing her. He felt her hand settle at his waist. She dragged it down him, cupped him, making the pulse there pound rhythmically, potently. He moved her against the wall, slipped a hand inside her pajama bottoms, let his fingers explore the warm wetness of her, eased a finger inside as he lifted his head and watched her face. Her head fell forward. She sank her teeth into his shoulder as her hips moved frantically then went motionless, but still taut and arched forward. Then she moved, steadily, powerfully. He gloried in her response.
She finally slowed, relaxed. He buttoned her pajamas, picked up her robe and tossed it onto the bed.
“What about—”
“Shh,” he said, kissing her. “That was risky enough. See you in the morning.”
He made his way to his bedroom, yanked off his clothes and stepped into the shower, not cold, but not too hot, either. Her scent mingled with the steam, filling the space. He didn’t want to wash it away, but he reached for the soap anyway.
The complications just kept getting deeper.
And so did his feelings.
Thirteen
“I thought it was just gonna be us,” Kevin said the next day, his arms crossed. They’d just finished lunch.
Caryn put the leftovers in the refrigerator, letting James deal with Kevin.
“Lyndsey is a CPA. Her husband, Nate Caldwell, is one of the owners of the firm I work for. We need their help, especially Lyndsey’s. They’re on their way from the airport now.”
“Where will they stay?”
“In my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Kevin tossed his napkin on the counter. “How many more people are you gonna tell about how Dad messed up?”
Caryn met James’s gaze. She understood Kevin’s hurt, but she knew they both had to swallow their pride if they wanted to resolve everything. How James stayed so cool amazed her, especially when Kevin got visibly angry.
“Do you want answers? Do you want to get back to your life?” James asked.
Kevin nodded, once, rigidly.
“Then this is the fastest way. They won’t tell anyone.”
“But they’ll know.”
“They know much worse about a lot of people.”
“That makes it okay?” Kevin stalked out of the room.
Caryn saw him veer into the living room, so she guessed he was going back to work. It was her first moment alone with James since…last night. He gave her a crooked smile that said more than words.
“So, how are you?” he asked.
“Somewhat…satisfied,” she said, flirting. “How about you?”
“Not.”
“I offered.”
“I hope to take you up on that offer one of these days.”
Whew. When he turned his attention to something, he did it all the way. She felt the heat from his eyes from across the counter. “You’re very patient with him, James.”
“No reason to lose patience. Plus, today… It’s hard on both of you.”
Caryn hadn’t awakened with the anniversary on her mind, but James instead. It hadn’t taken long for her to remember, but for a few moments she was just a woman like any other woman, trying to figure out a man, trying to do what was best for her son and herself, trying to move forward in life.
The doorbell rang. Caryn followed James to the door, was introduced to the couple, Lyndsey with her curly brown hair and green glasses that matched her eyes, and Nate with his attractive blond surfer looks. James offered them lunch, which they declined, took them to the office and left them there to work, then he, Caryn and Kevin dived into the rest of the boxes.
Hours went by. Even with music playing in the background, the house seemed extraordinarily quiet, Caryn thought as she watched Kevin and James working side by side, their heads together, examining a stack of papers. How alike they were. And yet different. Some of Paul was in Kevin, too, in a few of his gestures and word inflections. And some of herself, too, she hoped, things she probably never noticed.
Nate wandered in. “Do you have the IOUs, Caryn?”
“Aren’t they in there?”
“No.”
She looked around the room. “They wouldn’t be with these materials. I kept them— Oh. I kept them in one of my cookbooks.”
Everyone zeroed in on her. “I figured Kevin would never open one,” she said with a shrug. “I was going to rent a safe-deposit box, but I forgot. I’ll go get them.”
“I will,” Kevin said, standing, then hesitating. “Look, my plans tonight were with Emmaline. Can I go there after I get the receipts?”
Caryn looked at James and nodded slightly.
“It’s okay with me,” he said. “Except you can’t drive yourself.”
Kevin crossed his arms. “I’m not going to see Venus. That’s a promise. I told you we were only friends.”
“Someone will come get you in the morning,” James said. “Sleep in, if you want, then give us a call. My mother makes the best waffles.”
Caryn saw James look outside to evaluate how dark it was. Dark enough, she decided, when he said to Nate, “Could you take him in my BMW? You can leave and return through the garage that way. Kevin, you need to—”
“Crouch down in the back seat. I know. Same rules as coming.”
After Kevin and Nate left the room, James looked at Caryn. “We should be thinking about dinner, I guess. We’ll just order in. Got a favorite in mind?”
“I like everything. You might ask Lyndsey, though. Pregnant women sometimes can’t tolerate certain foods.”
“Pregnant?” He looked in the direction of the office.
Caryn put a hand over her mouth, appalled at herself. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you knew. Oh, shoot.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just…can.”
“Hmm. I wonder why they haven’t said anything. Dana, the wife of Sam Remington, one of the other L.A. partners is pregnant, too. They announced it last week.”
“Well, don’t bring it up to Nate or Lyndsey. They must have a reason for keeping it to themselves. Just ask what kind of food she and Nate would like.”
“Yeah, okay.”
&nb
sp; Caryn took a moment to stretch her legs. After he went out the doorway she sat in James’s overstuffed chair and closed her eyes. It had felt all day like a family day. Her eyes stung at the crazy thought. Their relationship was so new and so strange, yet it felt natural and normal and…right.
“Lyndsey says anything with mashed potatoes,” James said, returning.
“Comfort food.”
“I know just the place.” He left again then just as quickly returned and walked right up to her. He leaned his hands on the arms of the chair and kissed her, and nothing short and sweet, either, but a kiss that felt distinctly like foreplay. She brought her hands to his face, slipped her thumbs along his lips.
James suddenly turned his head toward the door. Caryn didn’t see anything.
“I think we were observed, Mysterious.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. Lyndsey knows how to keep secrets. I’d better go see what she wanted, though.”
Some kiss, Caryn thought. Some amazing kiss.
A while later, the four adults ate a leisurely dinner of Mama Jo’s Down Home Comfort Food—chicken and dumplings, mashed potatoes, corn, and banana pudding—while dissecting what Nate and Lyndsey had learned so far.
“My roughest preliminary estimate,” Lyndsey said, “is that Paul could have owed the eight hundred thousand dollars that you paid, but I doubt it was actually that much. Any wins would be applied to the debt. Pay up or else.” She shrugged at Caryn. “I’ve handled quite a few cases like this at ARC. I recognize the pattern.”
“So, you’re making an educated guess,” James said.
“That’s what it amounts to, yes. I’ve got more to check, though.” She yawned.
“Tomorrow,” Nate said, sliding an arm around her shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today.”
James looked at his watch. Not even eight o’clock and Lyndsey was ready for bed. Caryn must be right about the pregnancy. “Yes, tomorrow is fine,” James said.
“I’m all right—”
Nate shook his head. He and his wife exchanged a look, then Nate added, “We’re going to spend the night with Sam and Dana, though. I’m sorry we didn’t let you know right away. Lyndsey and Dana want to catch up, and I’ve got some business with Sam. It worked out that they were in San Francisco for the weekend. Plus I’d like him to take a look at the IOUs.”
