by Harper Allen
“Don’t worry about me.” He shrugged, his gaze focused on the traffic ahead of them. “I get by okay, Julia. I always have.”
He was lying all by himself now, she thought, blinking rapidly and willing her tears not to fall. The man didn’t need any prompting from her anymore. He wasn’t okay. Max Ross hadn’t been okay for a long time, and he would never be okay again. His scar might be invisible, but it was deeper and more wounding than hers had ever been.
But he would never acknowledge it. And until he did it would never heal.
“We’re in luck.” As he jockeyed the vehicle into a curb parking space and inclined his head toward the sidewalk, Julia saw that they were only about a block away from Noel’s apartment. “Isn’t that Tennant and his friend across the street? They must be doing their grocery shopping.”
“Yes, that’s Peter with the cane. And that’s Noel with the trendy shades on.”
Pushing her unhappy thoughts aside, she followed Max’s glance just as the blind man, a string bag full of vegetables over one arm and a long French baguette tucked under the other, took a seat on a sidewalk bench and said something to Noel. Grinning, Noel deposited a paper grocery sack beside Peter on the bench and entered the nearest store. Julia frowned.
“Let’s get this over with.” Max, his shoulders stiffly set, was already halfway out of the car. Hastily she unfastened her seat belt and scrambled out herself.
“Wait a minute,” she said, her heart pounding. “Max, I think—”
“You wanted answers today. We’re getting them,” he said without breaking stride. “I’ll go in and give Tennant the choice between going back to his apartment or having this discussion on the public sidewalk. You wait outside with Symington.”
“But Max—”
He was already at the other curb. She waited to let a couple of cars go by, and got to the sidewalk just in time to see him enter the store. Folding her arms across her chest, she exhaled in sharp frustration.
“He’s a headstrong guy, isn’t he?” Peter Symington’s pleasant voice held a touch of amusement. Julia glanced over and saw him looking in her general direction. She crossed the distance between them.
“You recognized my voice?”
“Like you recognize what I look like after only seeing me once.” Peter nodded. “I’ve been blind since birth. My sense of hearing’s as vital to me as your eyes are to you.”
She sighed, and pushed the baguette closer to him as she took a seat on the bench. “Yeah, he’s a headstrong guy,” she said. The store’s windows were piled high with merchandise. It was impossible to see inside. “But you’d know what that’s like. Noel’s as stubborn as they come too, isn’t he? How long has he been blind, Peter?”
He gave no sign that her question was unexpected. Tapping the cane he was holding lightly on the pavement in front of him, he gave her a small smile. “He’d tell you he’s been blind most of his life. But if you’re asking when his vision started to go, I’d say about five years ago. It was gradual.”
“And two years ago? How well could he see then?” Not well enough to assemble and plant a bomb and arm a timing device, Julia surmised. Peter confirmed her guess with his next words.
“Shapes and movement.” He shrugged. “Just well enough to hide it from his family, if he was in a familiar environment and no one left a chair pulled out in his path. He used to pass off his occasional stumbles as the result of too much wine at dinner or a few too many martinis at lunch, and with his reputation as a party boy, people accepted that. But in the end he knew he either had to tell his family what was happening to him, or cut off ties with them.”
“And being Noel, he chose the latter. He wouldn’t have wanted Kenneth or Olivia to know,” she said, nodding slowly.
“Do you blame him?” Peter gave a short laugh. “From what I’ve gathered Mommie Dearest would have shunned him like the plague if she’d known. She has an abhorrence for anything she sees as weakness, and her definition of that would include blindness.”
He fell silent for a moment and then gave her a rueful grin. “But you and the fed aren’t here to listen to the story of the great love of my life, right? You’re here because of the Cape Ann connection.”
“Max thought he’d found his man. I had my doubts,” Julia said simply. “An explanation of what Noel was doing there two years ago would tidy things up so we could concentrate on someone else.”
“Someone else like Olivia?” Peter asked shrewdly. “When you left the other day Noel told me what little I didn’t already know about how your husband died, and that you’d gone to prison for the bombing. I told him he should have come clean with the two of you then, but he’s still not ready to let that old harridan learn of his blindness and he thought it might get back to her. But I’ve got the feeling your Agent Ross is doing some detecting right now and putting two and two together, whether he’s actually spoken to Noel or not. Echolocation’s pretty intriguing to a sighted person when they witness it for the first time.”
“Echo-what?”
“Echolocation.” Peter grinned. “I grew up using the cane so I just never got the knack of acting like a bat, but Noel can zip around the city using it. It’s based on the way bats send out sonar to keep from flying into things in the dark—by making a little clicking sound with your tongue you can tell a lot about your surroundings by listening to the tiny echo that comes back to you. Noel heard of a woman in the Cape Ann area who was willing to teach him how to use it. I can give you her name.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.” Julia saw Max appear in the doorway to the store, looking be-mused. She got to her feet. “I believe Max is doing that addition you were speaking of right this minute, and finding he can’t make two and two add up to five no matter how he tries. Thanks, Peter. I’ll let him know what you told me.”
She started to turn away, and then paused. “Noel said he’d been blind most of his life? What does he mean by that?”
Peter’s smile in her direction was gentle. “He says he never saw what was really important until he lost his vision. Maybe one day he’ll take on a bigger role at Tenn-Chem, but he’ll never let that company rule his life the way he did before. He’s a happy man, Julia.”
Max’s face was unreadable as the two of them crossed the road to his car, but when he unlocked the passenger-side door for her he didn’t open it right away. He looked at her quizzically.
“You knew he was blind even before I went into that store. What alerted you?”
“I’m not sure.” She made a helpless gesture. “I think my subconscious had already guessed what he was really hiding that day in his apartment. Don’t forget, Max, I knew him quite well once. I saw a difference in the way he was interacting with us. Did you speak to him?”
He shook his head. “No. The store was crowded and the aisles were packed with boxes and displays. I saw at once he wasn’t using his eyes to negotiate his way around everything, though I’ll be damned if I know what he was doing.”
“Peter called it echolocation. We had quite a little chat—about that and Cape Ann and a few other things.”
Briefly she explained what she’d learned, and Max’s frown slowly faded. “You said he wasn’t the man he’d once been. I guess you were right, and not only about that. He couldn’t have been capable of the delicate work involved in arming an explosive device.” His eyes darkened. “But I’ll bet Olivia could build a bomb with one arm tied behind her back. It’s going to take a couple of days and a team of agents, but she strikes me as just arrogant enough not to have covered her tracks completely. I’ll get the Agency to reopen the investigation right away, with her as the prime suspect.”
His wording struck her as odd, and she realized her confusion must have shown in her face when he went on. “I’m taking myself off the case, Julia. My involvement with you doesn’t make me a completely unbiased investigator, and I won’t risk another tainted trial. If Olivia did this, she’s going down for good.”
&n
bsp; “Those pesky constitutional rights.” She smiled faintly, recalling their conversation on her first night of freedom. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, she thought sadly. Or maybe it only seemed like yesterday. A wave of pain washed over her, but as Max opened the car door she managed to lift her chin steadily enough and shake her head at him.
“No, Max. This is probably as good a time and place as any to say our goodbyes. I can send a taxi to collect my things and I’ll contact the Agency later this afternoon to tell them where I’m staying so someone can let me know when Willa’s coming home to me.”
He was standing in bright sunlight. The flicker of anguish she thought she saw flash across his features had to be a trick of the light, Julia told herself. It had gone already.
He gazed steadily at her, his expression closed. His nod was no more than a curt inclination of his head. “That’s probably best. You’ll want to find a place and get settled in before we bring her back to you. I’ll tell the investigator who takes over the case to keep you posted.”
He let the door he’d been holding open for her swing closed. As if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, he jammed them into his pants pockets and looked past her to the street, his jaw tight.
He wasn’t going to say anything more, she thought hollowly. He’d reverted completely to the man she’d encountered two years ago, the man she’d thought of as almost invisible, the rigidly professional agent whom she’d seen as devoid of any human emotion.
She’d been wrong about him then. But it didn’t make any difference. Whatever he felt for her, he would never show it. He couldn’t risk showing it. She gave him a too-brilliant smile, and hoped the bright sunlight would explain the shimmer in her eyes as well.
“Take care of yourself, Max,” she said unevenly. Without waiting for his reply, she turned on her heel and started to walk away. She’d taken half a dozen steps before she heard him call her name.
“Jules.” His tone was uninflected. She looked back to see him still standing where she’d left him, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched as if against a chill wind. He met her eyes, and even from a few feet away she saw desperate hope flare behind that green gaze.
Then it died. He shrugged. “Willa’s a lucky little girl, Jules,” he said quietly. “You’re a good mother.”
It wasn’t what he’d started to say, she knew. And she also knew why what he’d started to say would never be said. The sunlight couldn’t account for the tears that were streaming down her face now, she thought, but she was beyond caring anymore.
“And you were a good father, Max.” She smiled at him through her tears. “You loved your Ethan very much, didn’t you? That’s why you won’t let yourself begin to live again—because somewhere deep inside you think you’d be abandoning him if you did.” She shook her head. “You say you never had a son. I think you know that’s a lie.”
For a moment he said nothing. Then a corner of his mouth lifted, but there was no humor in his expression. “If it is, it was the only one I ever told you, Jules,” he said tonelessly.
“I already knew that.”
Her throat was so tight she wasn’t sure if her whisper had reached him or not. She saw him draw in a deep breath, felt his gaze linger on her a second longer, saw him take his hands irresolutely from his pockets. Those thick dark lashes dipped briefly to his cheekbones and then up again. He strode to the driver’s side of the car, unlocked the door and got in.
But even as she heard him start the engine and drive off she was hurrying away, her shoulders set as stiffly as his had been, her attention focused on the cracks in the sidewalk, the feet of passers-by, the pieces of paper and carelessly discarded scraps of waste that were mute evidence of the hasty and urban world around her. How many of the people around her were in their own prisons? she wondered achingly. It was impossible to tell. Max was proof of—
A crushing weight seemed to slam into her chest with the force of a blow, stopping her in her tracks. She fought to get her breath, oblivious to the stream of humanity parting with irritation and impatience around her on the sidewalk.
Willa was in danger. Willa was in danger!
“Dear God, no.” She wasn’t even conscious of forming the words that pushed past her numbed lips. Frozen with dread, she swayed and nearly fell as she jostled her way to the edge of the sidewalk and leaned dizzily against a store window.
It didn’t make sense. Within a few days Olivia would likely be arrested and charged, and any chance she’d hoped for to shape Willa’s life as she’d shaped her own children’s would be gone forever. Even now she was kept at arm’s length from the child, thanks to Babs’s vigilance. It wasn’t as if the woman had plans to harm her granddaughter, Julia told herself shakily.
She closed her eyes, frantically willing herself to think, but instead all that filled her mind was the photo of Willa she had seen only an hour or so ago—the serious, dreamy expression, the little hands clutching at the ropes of the swing, the fallen teddy bear behind her in its patchworked coat—
The teddy bear that had been bought for Willa’s birthday two years ago, the teddy bear that had been replaced in its beautifully wrapped package by a bomb, the hand-made, one-of-a-kind teddy bear that Barbara hadn’t thrown away, but instead had given to the child she loved so much…
Suddenly the puzzle pieces flew into their rightful position, and Julia knew she’d been looking at it the wrong way from the start. She felt what little blood there was left in her face drain away.
“She knew she couldn’t stand up to Olivia,” she whispered out loud, not seeing the curious glances coming her way. “But she made up her mind she wasn’t going to let Willa go through the same hellish childhood she’d had. She decided she was going to give her every last minute of happiness she could, and when the day came that Willa was to be taken away from her and put into Hartley House she was going to do the only thing she could think of to save her from that.”
She whirled around, ran into the store, and reached across the cashier’s counter for the phone sitting there. With trembling fingers she punched out a number, and as the woman behind the counter grabbed angrily for the phone, Julia straight-armed her away.
Her fist tightened around the receiver as it rang a second time, and then a third, and she found she was biting down on her bottom lip so hard she’d drawn blood.
“Hello? This is the Tennant residence.”
The words were softly accented. Julia sagged against the store counter in relief, and choked back a sob.
“Maria?” she said hoarsely. “Maria, it’s Julia. I—I need your help badly, and I need Thomas to let me have Olivia’s car.”
Chapter Sixteen
The first thing he noticed when he let himself into the house was how quiet it was—which was crazy, Max told himself, since he’d been letting himself into a quiet house for over ten years now. He tossed his keys onto the hall table, and walked through the living room into the kitchen.
“Hey, boy.” Without raising his head, Boomer thumped his tail in greeting as Max bent down and patted him. The brown eyes gazed up at him, following his every movement. “Getting pretty lazy there, aren’t you, old guy?” Max said, standing.
He opened the refrigerator, looked blankly at the nearly empty shelves, and shut it again. He walked over to the sink and tightened the taps. He started to shrug out of his jacket and then stopped, instead pulling out a chair and sitting heavily down at the kitchen table.
Julia Tennant had been in his house with him. And now she wasn’t.
He heard a muffled little squeaking sound. He looked down just as the dog closed his jaws over the foolish rubber hot dog Julia had bought him.
He leaned his forehead against his fist and squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t do any good. She was still there, a dozen images of her flying through his mind—petting Boomer, washing up the dishes with him last night, standing in the hallway wearing his shirt and waiting for him to come to her.
His J
ules, laughing up at him. His Jules, crying over Willa’s pictures. His Jules, beside him in the half dark after they’d made love, her hair across his mouth, her head in the hollow of his shoulder, her heart in her eyes as she’d looked at him.
He’d stood on that damned sidewalk and let her go. He’d driven to the office and had asked to see the director right away. After giving him a quick outline of the situation he’d been grimly assured that the investigation would be reopened immediately. Then he’d left and come straight here. He’d had to come straight here. In the back of his mind he’d had the insane hope that by being here where she’d been only this morning he’d be able to hold on to some lingering trace of her, but as soon as he’d walked in the door he’d known it wasn’t going to work.
He didn’t want the memory of her. He wanted her back. The rawness of his longing flayed across his soul like the lash of a whip, and with a jerk he lifted his head and opened his eyes.
“You could have had her,” he said out loud. “But in the end you would have driven her away. You never could have given her what she needed—what she deserved. There’s a big piece of you missing, and you know it.”
It was true, but not for the reason she’d given him. Impatiently he rubbed the heel of his hand over his face. Maybe the job had taken its toll on him over the years, maybe it went back further than that. He’d been raised by his grandparents, and after his grandmother had died, it had been just him and his grandfather. The old man had loved him, Max knew, but he hadn’t been one to display or even admit to affection.
But why didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he’d known he’d loved her, and still something inside him had held back whenever he’d contemplated making a life with her.
