His Secret Son

by Jacqueline Diamond

  From halfway up the bleachers, Bobby’s parents greeted her warmly, a welcome contrast to the other parents’ reactions. When she introduced Dirk and explained that he was staying with her, Kathryn’s immediate response was “I’ll bet that makes Jeff feel safer!”

  “Jeff isn’t the only one,” Joni confessed as they took seats on her friends’ blanket.

  “But surely there’s no danger to you now.” Worry creased Fred’s round, pinkish face. Of average height, he played basketball several times a week to battle his tendency to put on weight. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but with Lowell gone—”

  “We’re not certain my brother was the one stalking her,” Dirk said.

  “Really?” Kathryn glanced in alarm from him to Joni. “You mean there’s been more harassment?”

  “No.” Joni didn’t feel like going into detail about the footprint in the blind and the knife in the dishwasher. “There are a few pieces that don’t fit.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try to talk to the coach before the game starts.” With quick, sure footing, Dirk swung down.

  “Someone should warn him that Charlie’s never in a mood to chat at game time,” Kathryn sighed, finger combing her short brown hair.

  “What does he want to talk to Coach about?” Fred asked.

  Joni didn’t want to reveal that Dirk was conducting his own investigation; if word ever reached MacDougall, he’d be furious. “He’s taking an interest in my son. I don’t see how it can hurt.”

  “Perhaps not,” Kathryn said. “As long as he’s realistic. He might mean well, but no one can replace Jeffs’s father.”

  “He isn’t too much like his brother, is he?” Fred added in concern. “I mean, he’s living in your house, Joni. What if he gives you a hard time?”

  “It’s only until I can get an alarm system installed,” she said. “Besides, believe me, I would never allow a man to treat me the way Lowell did ever again.”

  Below, Charlie brushed off Dirk’s attempts to talk and marched onto the field. Dirk remained in place, watching the coach and the players.

  Color and movement in the parking lot distracted her. Joni noticed a group of cheerleaders in orange-and-purple costumes scattering to their parents’ cars. A few, probably sisters of soccer players, headed toward the bleachers.

  Among them prowled a tall woman with a sculpted face and long, dark hair as silky as a model’s. She was, as everyone knew, the volunteer cheerleading coach. She was also the woman who had broken up Joni’s marriage.

  Kim DeLong, dressed in a black silk blouse and matching leggings, strode toward one of her society friends in the opposing bleachers. Halfway there, she paused to stretch like a cat, the movements displaying her curves to maximum effect.

  Men gawked. Some of the women frowned, but Joni knew that none of them would dare reproach the woman. From her father, Kim had inherited a large share of the town’s commercial real estate and a leading position in society, and she was known to be vindictive.

  Kim and Lowell had been a golden couple all through high school. Because they were five years older than Joni, she hadn’t known them then, but she’d seen their pictures in the newspaper. They’d been shimmeringly beautiful and mind-numbingly rich.

  During college, the two had dated for a while. Then an older man, a banker from San Francisco, won Kim away. She’d married him after graduation, reportedly breaking Lowell’s heart.

  He’d quickly recovered and married Joni. When Kim divorced her husband half a dozen years later and moved back to Viento del Mar, Lowell hadn’t shown any interest.

  Only after Kim called to brag about her conquest did Joni learn that, according to gossip, the raven-haired woman had set her sights on Lowell from the day she returned. Maybe, the busybodies said, he’d been dissatisfied with his wife; he had certainly criticized her enough. Joni suspected he’d also been flattered by Kim’s pursuit and too self-centered to consider what it meant to break his marriage vows.

  On the field, the game began, but she found it hard to concentrate. Seeing Kim brought back unpleasant memories and in addition her over-the-counter pain medication was wearing off. Her ribs throbbed and she had to grip the seat more than once until her head stopped spinning.

  At first, Jeff played carelessly, without his usual spirit. After a while, though, he got caught up in the game and even scored a goal. From her spot, she could see Dirk studying the crowd and knew he must have noted Kim’s arrival. But he spent most of his time calling out encouragement to Jeff.

  Kathryn had implied that Dirk might be trying to take Lowell’s place. Neither the Owenses nor anyone else, even Herb, knew the truth about Jeff’s parentage, but Joni supposed her friend’s speculation might not be entirely wrong. Even though she no longer believed Dirk would seek custody, he seemed to be drawing closer to his son. If he did want an ongoing relationship, it would mean spending more time in Viento del Mar.

  With a start, she realized that the prospect pleased her. She felt more comfortable talking with Dirk than she ever had with Lowell, and his physical nearness brought a new awareness of her own femininity.

  Her husband had been classically handsome but remote. Dirk, on the other hand, made her breath come faster every time she glanced at him. In a visceral, intensely personal way, she wanted him.

  Disturbed, Joni stared down at the man pacing beside the field. The last thing she needed was to let herself become vulnerable to him. Losing Lowell had hurt badly; if she ever allowed herself to fall in love with Dirk, how could she bear to give him up? This time she knew in advance that she couldn’t keep him. Only a fool would set herself up for that kind of loss.

  A murmur from the bleachers roused Joni into the present. Coach Charlie, who had bent to pick up a soccer ball, had split his pants up the back seam. Judging by his red face, he didn’t find the incident funny.

  “Those uniforms aren’t made very well,” Kathryn said. “How embarrassing.”

  “The problem is, he’s put on weight,” Fred observed. “Don’t blame the pants.”

  After muttering a few words to his assistant, the coach marched toward the parking lot. Joni hoped he had some extra pants in his car; the game was a close one, and the kids needed his guidance. Sure enough, by the end of halftime, he returned in a fresh pair of sweats. For the rest of the game, however, Charlie let his assistant do the strenuous bending.

  “I can’t understand why the man’s let himself go,” Fred commented. “He ought to be in shape. After all, he teaches exercise classes.”

  “Is that what he does for a living?” Charlie was one of the soccer league’s best volunteer coaches, but Joni had no idea of his regular occupation.

  “No,” Kathryn said. “He works for a plumbing service—Oh, I can’t look!” She covered her eyes as an opposing player stole the ball from Bobby right in front of the Hornets’ goal.

  Instantly, Jeff darted in and stole it back. With a fierce kick, he knocked the black-and-white orb past the goalie and into the net

  The crowd cheered. Below, Dirk raised both fists in triumph.

  “Don’t worry, dear.” Fred patted his wife’s hand. “Joni’s son saved the day.”

  The game ended a few minutes later, 4-to-3 in favor of the black and silver. The Raiders lined up to call “Good game!” to their rivals. The Hornets returned the sentiment but without enthusiasm.

  Teaching sportsmanship was one of the goals of the soccer league, but Joni wasn’t sure the lessons stuck very well. Especially not with some parents. Right now, in the stands opposite, a father was chewing out a tearful little boy who had missed an easy goal. She winced at a mental image of Donald Peterson yelling at a childish Dirk.

  Lowell had tried the same tactic once, but the boy had indignantly ordered his father to stop being so mean. After a moment’s stunned silence, Lowell had apologized. She wondered whether it was an innate character trait or the result of being an only child that had given Jeff the nerve to fight back.

&
nbsp; Dirk, on the other hand, had withdrawn from the sport. He didn’t shrink from confrontations anymore, though, she decided, watching him pace across the field toward Kim DeLong.

  She supposed he wanted to question the woman about Lowell. It made sense, but that knowledge didn’t stop a twinge of jealousy at seeing Kim straighten her shoulders and greet him with the calculated smile she reserved for good-looking men.

  People crossed the stands in front of Joni, blocking her view. “Need help?” Fred, shifting a cooler to his other hand, offered an arm.

  “I sure do.” Shakily, she held on to him as they followed Kathryn down from the bleachers. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” At ground level, he bent to give Bobby a hug. “Terrific game!”

  “Yeah!” The boy beamed. “Hey, Mrs. Peterson, can Jeff come home with us?”

  “Please?” her son chimed from beside his friend. “We want to work on our Halloween costumes.”

  “Oh, that’s right, it’s next Thursday.” Joni hadn’t even considered what her son would wear.

  “We both want to be Wishbone.” The boys loved the spotted dog who acted out canine versions of classic stories on PBS.

  “Both of you as one dog?” Fred raised an eyebrow teasingly.

  “In The Prince and the Pooch, he’s twins,” Jeff explained.

  Starting to nod her understanding, Joni nearly lost her balance. Kathryn caught her shoulder. “You need to rest, so let us take Jeff for a while. Anyway, I need to measure the boys for their costumes. I’ve got some old material that might work. Do you want us to drop you at home?”

  The dizziness passed. “I’ll wait for Dirk.”

  “We’ll bring Jeff by later, then.” After making sure Joni could stand unsupported, her friends departed to stow the boys, soccer equipment and other gear into their van.

  Maybe she should have accepted their invitation to go home, Joni thought. She knew she’d overextended herself so soon after leaving the hospital. But she wanted to find out what Kim was saying to Dirk. And to see for herself how he reacted to Viento del Mar’s resident siren.

  By the time she traversed the grass, most of the parents had left. Only a few of Kim’s friends lingered nearby, none of them willing to meet Joni’s gaze.

  Kim’s voice grew louder as she spotted the newcomer. “As I said, I don’t believe there ever was any harassment. I think she made it up and then lured him there so her kid could get his money.”

  From Dirk’s tone, Joni could tell he was straining for patience. “I wish you would try to remember what Lowell said the last time you talked to him. Whether he’d received any threats or was suspicious of anyone.”

  “What’s the point?” At close range, the sunlight picked out a few strands of gray in Kim’s hair, but she was still a stunning beauty. “The police know who killed him and so does everybody else. The only question is, why haven’t they locked her up yet?”

  Joni could feel her cheeks flaming, but she stood her ground. “Sometimes what ‘everybody’ knows is wrong,” she said evenly. “If you really cared about Lowell, you’d help his brother find the truth.”

  Rage glittered in the woman’s eyes. “If I cared about him?” she snapped. “I was the great love of his life. Ask anybody in this town. He only married you on the rebound. We may have made a few mistakes, Lowell and I, but we belonged together.”

  Joni didn’t want to argue the point. “Then I should think you would want to make sure the guilty person gets convicted.”

  “The guilty person will be convicted!” A pom-pom pin heaved atop Kim’s bosom, its orange-and-purple fringe quivering. “He would’ve come back to me eventually, but you couldn’t stand that, could you? You cheap, social-climbing little tramp!”

  Her pitch had risen, and Joni realized the ugly words might carry as far as the parking lot. She checked in that direction to make sure Jeff hadn’t heard.

  The only person visible was Fred, who finished stowing gear in the rear compartment, slammed the hatch and gave Joni a thumbs-up. The gesture of support eased her embarrassment but only slightly. Kim’s friends were exchanging knowing glances. It was clear they relished this attack on someone they’d long viewed as an interloper.

  “I’d be careful whom I was calling cheap, if I were you.” Dirk’s low, furious response brought a shocked stare from Kim. “Do you think my family appreciates your having an affair with my brother and then calling his wife to brag about it? That’s not exactly high-class behavior in anybody’s book.”

  Kim’s mouth tightened, but she appeared to be weighing her response. Not so much because Dirk had spoken the truth, Joni supposed, as because his family also ranked at the top of the town’s social hierarchy.

  “You want to make me the bad guy? Suit yourself.” Turning, Kim told her friends, “See you later,” and headed for the parking lot. The others, subdued, collected their children and departed.

  “Thank you.” Joni’s throat caught as she gazed at Dirk.

  He touched her waist, sending darts of pure pleasure streaking through her. “That woman had it coming. I don’t excuse my brother’s adultery, but she’s never shown a moment’s remorse for the harm she did you and Jeff. Even Herb despises her although he’s too polite to say so.”

  She tried to keep her tone light. “Gee, I thought you were my personal knight in shining armor, and instead you were just defending the family honor.”

  A smile flashed across his lean face, but he sobered quickly. “It’s the same thing, Joni. You’re part of the Peterson family. Herb and I both think of you that way.”

  The glow of her gallant rescue dimmed. Not that she minded being considered a Peterson, but Joni realized she’d been hoping for a more personal response. She ought to be grateful that she hadn’t received one, she reminded herself. She needed to keep her distance.

  “Jeff went home with the Owenses,” she said. “So I can rest.”

  “Have you known them long?”

  The man didn’t trust anyone! “Three years, since the kids started school together,” she said.

  “I’m glad to see they’re sticking by you.” He guided her away from the stands. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

  The sudden tensing of his body sent a spurt of fear rushing through her. Joni braced for danger until she saw the reason for his reaction.

  Red liquid smeared the hood of his blue car, spattering the windshield and dripping onto the bumper. It appeared that someone had tossed a can of paint onto the hood and fled. She saw no scrawled slogans or messages.

  The nearby parking slots were empty. With a shake of his head, Dirk bent to check the pavement, possibly for footprints.

  “I can’t imagine who did this,” Joni said. “We’ve never had vandalism at a game before.”

  “I doubt this is a random act.” He circled the sedan. “If it were, it’s likely that paint would’ve been thrown onto other cars, and someone would undoubtedly have called the police.”

  “Do you think Kim did it?” Joni asked dubiously. “She was angry, but I have trouble imagining that she carries a bucket of paint in her car.”

  “The coach was out here for a long time after he ripped his pants,” Dirk said. “He didn’t look as if he liked me very much, either.”

  “Could be a lot of people.” She sighed.

  Pulling a tissue from his pocket, he spit on it and rubbed the paint. The tissue came away streaked with pink. “It’s water soluble, which means it might wash off. I’m sure the car rental company would appreciate that.”

  “Aren’t you going to report it?”

  Dirk pulled his cellular phone from his pocket. “I doubt it’ll do much good, and you need to rest. But I suppose we’d better.”

  Joni nearly regretted making the suggestion by the time the police got through. Although one of the officers let her sit in his car, it wasn’t much more comfortable than the bleachers, and MacDougall spent an interminable amount of time taking samples and lookin
g around the lot.

  Worse, he didn’t find anything useful. No telltale athletic shoe print, nothing to link the incident to anyone specific.

  “We’ll have the lab test the substance,” the detective said, “but I’d say it’s some kids pulling a prank.”

  Dirk didn’t look satisfied, but he held his tongue.

  Finally, the police departed and Joni sank wearily into the front seat of the rental. At least the windows remained clear enough for Dirk to drive. As he slid behind the wheel, she said, “By the way, I appreciated how you encouraged Jeff.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  In her concern over the paint, she’d almost forgotten the game’s exciting climax. “He even scored the winning goal.”

  “I’m just proud of him for doing his best.”

  The way Dirk’s mouth quirked reminded Joni so sharply of her son that she reached out to cup his cheek. When she pulled her hand away, it retained a lingering impression of firm skin with a hint of masculine roughness. “You remind me so much of him sometimes,” she explained.

  “Of Lowell?” He backed out of the space.

  “No, Jeff.”

  Dirk pulled into the street, sitting stiffly erect. Finally, almost as if asking a question, he said, “He has our mother’s coloring.”

  Joni supposed she should drop the subject. With Lowell, she’d learned to navigate a conversation as though it were a minefield. Some subjects, such as her own impoverished background and his relationship with his brother, had been guaranteed to put a chill in the air. From Dirk’s reticence, she gathered that Jeff’s parentage was similar forbidden ground. Well, she was tired of circumspection. They needed to get the subject out in the open.

  “Why are you in such denial about it?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  He was deliberately being obtuse, which confused her. It was uncharacteristic of Dirk. “About Jeff. Being his father, I mean.”

  He slammed on the brakes. They’d reached a stop sign, but that didn’t explain the abruptness.