The Secret Daughter

by Roz Denny Fox

  So much so that Adam felt compelled to explain. “The Mississippi often rises and floods the bottomlands, Noelani. I assumed you were already aware that’s why we bury aboveground in this part of Louisiana.”

  “I had no idea.” Noelani couldn’t seem to shake her unrest. Imagine how difficult it must be for Casey, having to plant and harvest cane so near the vault where her loved ones would spend eternity. Not ancestors, but people she’d kissed, hugged and seen every day, probably right up to the day they left on a simple trip. A second honeymoon, apparently.

  She and Adam were both wrong about Casey Fontaine Devlin. The woman had grit through and through.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked after they’d rejoined the dwindling party. She hadn’t said three words since they’d left the cemetery. “The band’s actually playing a tune I think I can dance to,” he said, and smiled warmly. “How about it? Shall we lose ourselves in the music? Otherwise, if I know you, you’ll get involved in cleaning up.”

  Her sober eyes rested on his face a moment. “You don’t know me, Adam. No one here does. The cane, the roulaisant—that whole milling process I understand. The people…we’re so very different. Even if I wanted to, I’d never fit in here.”

  “I only asked for a dance, sugar pie. I wasn’t proposing marriage.” Adam tapped a finger on the tip of her nose. He ended up brushing his thumb back and forth over her bottom lip. His goal had been to lighten her mood. Something—he wasn’t sure what—had stolen the sparkle from her eyes. Eyes that enthralled him with their changing colors. Normally her huge dark eyes expressed her every thought. Not this evening. Now they were bottomless and troubled.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t referring to your question. Yes, let’s dance. Remember I warned you that it’s not true what they say about all Hawaiian women having rhythm.”

  “Damn, then we’ll be falling all over each other’s feet. I kid you not, this is probably the first time I’ve danced since I left college.”

  “Get outta here. You tell such whoppers, Adam Ross.”

  “It’s true.” He gathered her close for the skin-shivering, bluesy tune a man on an electronic keyboard and one with a mournful slide trombone were playing to set a new mood. A going-home, taking-your-lover-to-bed mood. Adam felt it the moment he took Noelani in his arms. Even as he tucked her silky hair beneath his chin and she curled against his chest, he realized he was a goner. His heart thudded in time to the bass licks, but it was the woman in his arms who stirred to life a long-dormant part of his anatomy. It’d been years since anyone had affected Adam with such immediacy. He lost his concentration and landed squarely on Noelani’s toes. “Jeez, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He pulled back, grateful that they were on the outer edge of the dancers, in deep shadows cast by several huge live oaks.

  She laughed and pressed three fingers to his lips. “As dancers, I swear we’d make better pineapple pickers.”

  “I spoiled the mood,” he grumbled. “Are you sure you aren’t crippled for life?”

  “I’m sure. It’s probably my own fault for changing into sneakers. They’re good for running the catwalks at the mill. Not so good for tripping the light fantastic.”

  “Thanks, Noelani.” He caught her hand again when she tried to shake loose and slip away. Bringing her knuckles to his lips, he kissed them one by one, then whispered in a husky voice, “The first day we met I remember being impressed with your sense of humor.”

  “Some sense of humor. I remember getting uppity when you paid my cab fare. Come to think of it, I still owe you.”

  “If you want to pay me back, sneak away with me now. There’s something I want you to see.”

  Noelani studied him warily. She saw nothing but boyish eagerness reflecting from his guileless blue eyes. Maybe she’d been mistaken when, during the dance, she thought he’d reacted sexually to her. “Adam, this isn’t something in your garçonnière, is it?”

  “Sorry, no etchings—but, I could be persuaded to change my plans and give you a guided tour of my quarters.”

  “Maybe one of these days I’ll take you up on your offer. I’ll bring Megan over—say on an evening when Tanya has class. Neither of us has been inside a garçonnière.”

  He tipped back his head and laughed. “Okay, I had that coming. What I really have in mind will take about ten minutes. If I ever do coax you into my bed, Noelani, I guarantee you’ll be there longer than ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes, huh?” She could feel heat washing over her face. “Okay. I’ll give you that much. Then I’ll have to get back and begin picking up around here. Betty is looking weary, and Auntie E must have retired already.”

  “Meet me at my pickup. I need to grab an industrial flashlight from my toolbox.”

  He intrigued Noelani with that statement. She tried to worm out of him where they were going as he boosted her into the pickup. But he refused to say. He drove to the end of the lane and turned right rather than left, which would take them toward town.

  They’d traveled two or three miles along the winding road when Adam suddenly pulled into a driveway she hadn’t even noticed because it was so overgrown. Stopping, he yanked on the emergency brake.

  “Where are we? Who lives here?”

  “No one now.” There was a thread of eagerness in his voice. “This is Magnolia Manor.” He got down from the cab, then helped her out, snapping on the powerful flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness, revealing a heavy chain looped around a warped gate. “We can’t go inside. Another time, perhaps. The bank or whoever owns the property has cut off the power.” He moved the light slowly over a two-story dwelling that stood fifty or so yards off the road. The once-green lawn had been taken over by weeds. The house was less than half the size of Bellefontaine. Ten upright four-by-fours separated the upper and lower stories, and three cupolas jutted from a gray shingle roof. Dark mysterious areas between the uprights probably contained windows or doors. Adam’s flashlight, though powerful, didn’t reach quite that far.

  “This is where you grew up?” Noelani stepped closer to Adam along the peeling white split-rail fence.

  “Yes. I’m hoping to buy it back. I’ve heard from a reliable source that it’ll be auctioned by the state through closed bids sometime this month.”

  “Really? How much land is in the parcel?”

  “Thirty acres. I have the plot figures. The backyard slopes to the levee. Otherwise there’s not a lot of land beyond that line of trees.” He shone the light from one edge of the house to the other.

  “No fields for growing cane? Bellefontaine sits on five hundred acres, and has two thousand more cultivated. Adam, why on earth would you sink good money into nothing but an old house?”

  Adam felt as if she’d punched him in the gut. He blinked several times at her, saying nothing.

  “I’m sorry, I know the house has sentimental value. But I honestly can’t understand why you or anyone would risk hard-earned money on a structure that will only drain you. Raw land gives back everything a person puts into it and more.”

  Adam abruptly snapped off the light. “The ten minutes you were willing to give me are probably up,” he said stiffly. “Come on, let’s get you back to Bellefontaine.”

  Noelani settled into the thick silence inside Adam’s pickup truck. Clearly she hadn’t reacted the way he’d wanted or expected her to. But for the life of her, she really had no idea why anyone would work as long and hard as Adam had for a mere house. Yet she knew he’d been saving to do exactly that. Auntie E and Tanya had both said that buying back his family estate was Adam’s big dream. Naturally, she’d assumed Magnolia Manor included cane fields, since all the old plantations in the area did.

  Nothing she said on the short trip back to Bellefontaine penetrated the wall Adam had thrown up between them.

  “Thank you,” she said hesitantly, after he swung in next to the garçonnière and parked. “I hope you successfully outbid everyone else, Adam. I mean that.” Suddenly miserable, she figured wishing him lu
ck was the least she could do.

  Adam slammed out of the car. He didn’t want her good luck, dammit. He couldn’t say why it mattered how she felt about the home he loved, but for some reason it did.

  Manners were ingrained in him, so he assisted her from the pickup, even though she wouldn’t blame him if he left her to fend for herself.

  “Are you going back to the party, Adam?”

  “Nope. I have things to check in the kitchen. Then I’m hitting the hay.”

  Noelani hadn’t imagined his cool attitude would affect her so profoundly. All along she’d tried to be honest. She’d said her stay here would be short. And God knew she didn’t need the extra pressure of an entanglement. Neither did he, if truth be known. Then why did she feel so guilty trudging back to the remains of the party, where a few diehards continued to goad the band into playing yet another last tune?

  Head down and hands stuffed in her back pockets, Noelani didn’t see Casey and Nick walking arm in arm along the path. She almost bumped into them.

  “Jackson’s been looking for you,” Casey said. “He’s wondering if you gave the band a set time to quit.”

  “Their contract is for twelve hours with six breaks. That’s nine o’clock based on my calculations.” She checked her watch. “Oh, it is nine. Wow! Well, I have their check on my clipboard. I’ll run upstairs and get it. I left it in my room when Jackson invited me to run out to the mill.”

  “Have you been at the mill all this time?” Casey’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “More or less,” Noelani mumbled. She didn’t want to talk about her side trips with Adam. Not the one to the graveyard Duke was buried or the more recent visit to Adam’s boyhood home.

  “Adam didn’t have any trouble changing the lock, did he?”

  “No.” Noelani dug in her pocket. “Do you want the spare keys? The new lock came with three.”

  “That’s good. I’ll take one, and you can give Jackson the other.” Casey accepted a key, but acted as though she had something else on her mind.

  Noelani didn’t give her time to say whatever it was. “Did Jackson mention whether or not he has time to introduce me around the mill tomorrow? I can’t imagine the crew will be overjoyed with me poking my nose into their work all on my own.”

  “He’ll have to give you a title and let everyone know. If…uh…you had to make an educated guess, what do you think happened to that vat program?”

  “I’d say somebody pulled up the operating files like I did, paged forward and deleted a row of code.”

  Nick stroked a lightly stubbled cheek. “In other words, someone willfully caused a slowdown. But people with that kind of knowledge could have destroyed the system if that had been their aim. Right?”

  “They could have wiped the disk clean and shut down all the cookers. If they’d wanted to mess things up long-term, they’d have wrecked or stolen the code books and backup system disks.” She frowned thoughtfully. “The company that installed the system probably gave someone a backup operating disk. Who’d know where it’s stored?”

  Casey stirred. “Duke handled the entire installation. He may have brought such a disk home. If so, it’ll be in his office. Otherwise, it’s probably lying around the mill office. He wasn’t the most computer-savvy person in the world.”

  Hearing his wife’s voice tremble, Nick drew Casey closer. “There’s no chance the string of code disappeared accidentally?” he asked Noelani.

  “Sure, it’s remotely possible. If somebody was playing on the computer, happened on the program and accidentally leaned on the delete key.”

  “A lot of coincidences,” Nick said, expressing the worry on Casey’s face.

  Noelani nodded. “Precisely. Yet, coincidences can occur. If you don’t mind a suggestion, it’d be better not to make my title anything to do with computers. That is, if your objective is to find and catch anyone who might have fiddled with the program on purpose. If your object is to simply discourage them from messing with the system, then call me an analyst.”

  Casey rubbed her forehead. “I’ve had trouble getting a handle on any of the things going on lately. We’ve fired employees before, and a few have even made threats. Broderick is in jail for carrying out awful deeds that were never even threats. If someone’s attacked the mill, it means we have another warped person who hates us.”

  “Or it means Broderick didn’t act alone,” Nick said. “You know Jackson and I never thought he had the brains to engineer all the stuff he’s charged with.”

  “And he claims some unknown man hired him. But the police are sure he’s lying about that, Nick.”

  Noelani listened raptly. “It’s probably none of my business, but Adam and I were at the casino when a man by the name of Chuck Riley caused a commotion. He said Duke owed him money.”

  “It’s possible. Riley was too drunk to listen when I said the NTSB hasn’t yet given us the plane’s log. Chuck may have flight pay coming. I suppose we could take his word and cut him a check. Jackson would prefer to wait until we have proof of the number of hours he actually flew.”

  “Jackson isn’t willing to give that bastard a cent more than he’s due.” Casey’s brother walked up behind Noelani. “Riley hasn’t drawn a sober breath since he returned to Louisiana. I want to see Duke’s trip log. Chuck swore Duke insisted on flying the day of the crash, but I wonder if Riley was actually drunk, in which case he forced Duke to fly. If that’s what happened, he’ll never get a red cent out of me. Casey, speaking of pay—did you ask Noelani about the check for the band?”

  “I was on my way to get it, as well as the second half of DuPree’s money. Sorry, we started talking about the mill.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll sit down and draft a plan of sorts for your duties there. Casey? Nick? Shall we go say good-night to our hangers-on? Nick, if you’ll help the band dismantle the speakers, I’ll give DuPree a hand loading up his barbecues. Casey, I don’t know if you feel up to helping Betty cart pots and dishes back to the house but—”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You’ve been looking pale this week. I thought with the miscarriage and all—” Jackson saw her quelling glance and swallowed the rest of his statement.

  “You suffered a miscarriage?” Noelani, who’d turned toward the house, spun around, her face a mask of sympathy. “On top of everything else you’ve had to deal with? Heavens.”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t very far along. We’d just done the strip test, in fact.” Unexpected tears shimmered in Casey’s green eyes. She bit down on her lip and fanned her face rapidly. “Damn, I hate women who cry over every little thing.”

  “Losing a baby isn’t a little thing,” Noelani exclaimed, reaching without thinking for Casey’s free hand. “Please go put your feet up. I’ll be right back. After I dispense the checks, I’ll help Betty.”

  “Where did Adam get off to?” Jackson asked, changing the subject.

  Noelani tensed. “He…ah…said he had a couple of things to check in the kitchen. Then he planned to go to bed.”

  “Casey, are you okay?” Nick gathered both of her hands.

  She bobbed her head repeatedly. “I’d be great if Jackson hadn’t mentioned the ba-baby.” Tears pooled along her lower eyelids again. This time she pulled away from Nick and used the heels of her hands to scrub at them furiously.

  Nick herded her toward the porch and the old kitchen. “Why don’t you fix a pot of coffee? I’ll go see if Adam’s hit the sack yet. If not, he can help lug tables and chairs back to the shed. With three of us, we’ll be able to clean up in nothing flat. Then we’ll join you ladies and hammer out a plan for this mill situation.”

  They split up, going in different directions.

  Had Adam gone to bed or was he sulking on his porch with a beer? Noelani wondered if he’d discuss her with Nick. Or maybe guys didn’t do stuff like that—maybe they didn’t gossip about the women they dated. And maybe the sun didn’t rise in the east.

  She found the checks where she�
�d left them. The second floor was quiet except for someone snoring. Auntie E or Toodles? Noelani smiled, imagining how horrified Esme would feel over being caught snoring.

  Obviously Tanya and Megan were asleep. No light filtered under either door. Since the backstairs were closer to the path leading back to the party, Noelani sped off down the dimly lit hall. She met Tanya on the landing.

  The young woman cracked her gum as she flattened herself against the wall. “Where are you headed so fast? The band’s quit, and the party’s over.”

  “I have the band’s check. Where’s Megan?”

  “In bed. Like I’m stupid enough to keep a kid up this late? But I suppose you’ll run and tattle to Jackson that I snuck back out to dance.”

  Noelani hesitated. “You shouldn’t have left Megan alone.”

  “Aunt Esme’s in her room.”

  Sleeping off the effects of too many mint juleps. Noelani didn’t feel like sharing that with Tanya. “Aunt Esme isn’t being paid to care for Megan. You are.”

  “Yeah, well the kid was upset because you took off with her dad. And that old poop promised me a dance, which I never got. We saw you climb into his Jag. The two of you were gone for hours. Megan asked a million times where you went. Where did you go, might I ask?”

  There was no reason not to tell her, except that Noelani thought Tanya was a ding-a-ling who was more interested in Jackson than Megan. “He and I have an early-morning mission, too. Tell Megan I’ll have her dad bring her a surprise from town.” Deliberately skirting the nanny, Noelani ran lightly down the stairs. Tanya’s hostility followed her. But honestly, if the girl was too dense to realize there couldn’t possibly be any hanky-panky between Jackson and his half sister, she deserved to be left in the dark.

  Back at the site, Noelani thanked the band and DuPree. “My pleasure, little lady,” the big man said, shifting an unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.

  Betty materialized out of the shadows, her arms laden with dirty dishes. Finding the cook had been next on Noelani’s list. “Ah, Betty, let me take those. How many more pots and dishes are out here?”