Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  He was real, substantial and vibrantly alive and he made her feel that way, too.

  She was alive.

  It was wonderful.

  He moaned, then choked out, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

  “This is crazy,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  “That’s why it needs to stop,” she breathed against his lips, before finding the strength to push out of his arms.

  Once they were apart, they simply looked at each other, their chests heaving, as though stunned by what had just happened.

  “I won’t apologize.” His voice was brusque.

  “Did I ask for an apology?”

  “No.”

  Kaylee looked away, fearful of betraying herself, fearful she would reveal how attracted she was to him, though she suspected he already knew.

  She no longer recognized herself, and that scared her.

  “Kaylee, don’t shut me out.”

  Ignoring him, she lifted her head toward the sky, feeling the breeze blow on her hot face. She breathed deeply until she felt some of her panic subside.

  “Cutler, I—”

  “Let’s go back to the cabin,” he interrupted, touching her arm and urging her forward.

  She stood her ground. “I don’t think so.”

  “I wasn’t planning on taking up where we left off,” he said with a note of passionate belligerence. “Unless you wanted me to, that is.”

  Her chin quivered. “You should take me home.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “I beg to differ.” His voice was thick.

  Stop it! she wanted to scream. Caring about him was foolish, stupid and dangerous.

  “I’m tired,” she said, then hated herself for using her handicap as an excuse. She had never done that before.

  A white line encircled his mouth. “You win this time, Kaylee. But mark it down—you haven’t seen the last of me.”

  A heavy silence fell between them.

  “I don’t want to argue with you.” Especially now, she told herself, not when she was emotionally wrung out and distraught. And not when a jackhammer was having a field day inside her head.

  Cutler’s gaze turned molten. “Good, because you wouldn’t win.”

  He had always wanted to own a bank, and damn if he hadn’t finally found one in which he actually owned a small percentage of stock, giving him a leg up. He just needed more information on its solvency before making a decision.

  “Is that everything, Mr. Rush?”

  Drew peered at his secretary, Mandy White, a plain and withdrawn young woman who had worked for him for several years now. She was as loyal an employee as he’d ever had, yet he didn’t know one personal thing about her, except that she wasn’t married. He’d often wondered if she was gay; though it wouldn’t have mattered.

  Now, though, as he looked at her from his hospital bed in the top-floor suite, he suddenly wondered how she would react if he uncoiled that bun at the nape of her neck, pulled off her glasses and kissed those thin lips.

  He suspected she’d go ape-shit.

  For a second he was tempted to try his luck. He was as horny as hell, having been cooped up in this room for three days now. His fool doctor had told him it was time for a full physical and he wanted him admitted to do it. At first Drew had said an emphatic no, but then Dr. Swanson had reminded him that he was a prime candidate for a stroke, given his family history.

  Drew had finally given in. Now, though, he was champing at the bit to get out. To date, Swanson showed no signs of letting that happen.

  “Mr. Rush, are you all right?”

  He shook his head, then said in an irritated tone, “Damn straight I am.”

  “You were so quiet, I thought—”

  “Well, you thought wrong.”

  Pink cheeked, Mandy rose. “Since we’ve covered everything on my list, I’m headed back to the office. I’ll be available.”

  “Just keep in touch.”

  After the door closed behind her, the phone rang. It was Kaylee. That soothed his ruffled feathers.

  “Hey, girl, how are you?”

  “I should be asking you that.”

  “Hell, I’m great.”

  “I hope so. I about had Dad’s head on a platter because he didn’t tell me you were in the hospital. I want to come see you.”

  “Don’t you dare come anywhere near here. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  “You promise?”

  “Sure, honey. You just take care of your business and yourself. Do you need anything?”

  “More hours in the day.”

  He chuckled. “Can’t help you out there. Now, if it’s money—”

  “Whoa. I’m not taking another penny from you until my debt is paid in full.”

  “I don’t want my money back.”

  “That’s nonnegotiable.”

  He chuckled again.

  “I love you, Uncle Drew.”

  “I love you, too, honey. Now, guess who just walked in the door?”

  “Dad?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. I’ll talk to you soon. You take care.”

  “Will do.”

  By the time the receiver was back on the hook, Edgar was sitting in the chair that Mandy had just vacated. “She raked me over the coals for not telling her you were here.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t tell her. She doesn’t need to be bothered with me.”

  “You know better than that. She’s crazy about you.”

  Drew smiled.

  “Any news on any of your tests?” Edgar asked.

  “Haven’t seen Swanson yet.”

  “I was hoping you’d get out today.”

  “Discharged or not, I’m getting ready to bolt.”

  “Best not do that,” Edgar said in his easy drawl.

  Drew snorted, then said, “I’m assuming you’ve got something on the creosote plant.”

  “They were investigated a couple of years ago by the EPA.”

  Drew straightened in the bed, all senses on full alert. “Did anything come of that investigation?”

  “Not that I could uncover. The company was either exonerated or let off the hook.”

  “Keep digging, but it sounds like they’re going to be an easy takeover.”

  “That it does. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I need some papers out of my safe at home.” He then told him what folders to get.

  Edgar stood. “I’ll be on my way as soon as you give me the combination.”

  “Commit it to memory. I don’t write that kind of stuff down.”

  After Edgar had left the room, Drew made a mental note to call a locksmith and have the combination changed.

  Camilla let him in and then disappeared.

  Edgar trod softly as he entered the opulent study in Drew’s palatial home nestled in the middle of twenty acres. Though he’d been inside countless times and made to feel welcome, he still felt as if he wasn’t good enough to be there.

  Perhaps it was because he preferred the simple life, as he was an unassuming man whose main goal was to see that his daughter had the best life could offer. One of the ways he could make that happen was to keep Drew Rush happy.

  Apparently he did, or he wouldn’t have trusted him to open his safe.

  The bank papers Drew wanted were exactly where they were supposed to be. But in pulling them out, he dislodged another folder, or rather a packet. Later, Edgar couldn’t say what made him look at it. When he read the words “Termination of Parental Rights” scrolled across the envelope, his curiosity rose to the occasion.

  What did that mean?

  With his heart thundering in his chest, Edgar unhooked the tab and pulled out a sheet of paper. Attached was a copy of a birth certificate. After perusing both documents, Edgar eased down into the nearest chai
r, shaking as if he’d just been kicked in the gut.

  “Oh, my God,” he whispered, his eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, my God.”

  Fifteen

  “Mom, I’m sorry I’ve neglected you lately.”

  Mary McFarland smiled, then lifted her cheek. “A kiss will do wonders toward forgiveness.”

  Cutler grinned, then complied, adding a hug as well.

  “You’re for sure off my list now.”

  Miracle of miracles, Cutler had actually gotten out of court early, and had been able to swing by his mother’s church to visit her. Since her flare-up, he hadn’t seen her. He’d talked to her on the phone, but that wasn’t the same. He needed to see with his own eyes that she was doing okay.

  And she was. In fact, she looked great, dressed in a pale pink linen suit that accented her dark hair and features. Color was in her cheeks, too, a good sign that this last bout with her heart was behind her.

  He knew, though, that she wasn’t without problems that would occur again. A weak heart muscle could not be repaired. So each day he had with her, he treasured as a blessing.

  “How about some coffee, son?”

  “I’m floating as it is, but you talked me into it.”

  Mary grinned and started to get up from behind her desk.

  “Keep your seat. You don’t have to wait on me.”

  “Okay. You know where it is. Help yourself.”

  In a minute he walked from the kitchenette back into her small office with two cups of coffee. “I don’t like to drink alone.”

  She smiled. “Me, either.”

  While they drank in silence, Cutler’s eyes perused his mother’s home away from home. He could understand why she loved being here. Mary’s domain at the rear of the community church overlooked a garden that was ablaze with flowers. Nestled among them was a gazebo filled with wrought-iron furniture.

  A large picture window behind Mary’s desk allowed her to turn at will and gaze at that beauty. Cutler knew she sometimes took members of her congregation there to counsel them.

  The church members as a whole seemed to adore Mary and were proud their minister was female. Even though Cutler wasn’t a regular attendee, much to his mother’s chagrin, he knew she had the right stuff behind the pulpit.

  “So what’s going on?” Mary asked, setting her cup down and eyeing him through warm eyes.

  “I’m up to my neck in alligators,” Cutler said without preamble.

  Mary raised an eyebrow. “And that’s different?”

  “Nah. But lately there seem to be even more of them in the pond demanding their pound of flesh.”

  “Ouch.”

  Cutler smiled ruefully. “I’m not hearing a whole lot of sympathy.”

  “That’s because my sympathy is limited.” Mary grinned, then her face turned serious. “You know how I feel about you pushing yourself so hard. One of these days, you’re going to crash and burn.” She paused. “And I might not be around to shovel up the ashes.”

  Although she said those last words in a nonchalant and light tone, Cutler knew she was dead serious, causing his own heart to lurch. When she talked like that, it unnerved the hell out of him. He couldn’t imagine his mother not being a meaningful and viable part of his life.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Like what?”

  “About your not being around.”

  “Oh, honey,” Mary said with another smile, “we both know I could go anytime, but then so could you. Anyone, for that matter.”

  “True, but—” Cutler broke off, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Back to you,” Mary said, changing the subject. “How’s your campaign going?”

  “It’s not. I just haven’t had time to do much politicking.”

  “Back to your workload and your cases, especially the one about the woman who drowned her children.” Mary paused with a sigh. “I can’t imagine a woman’s mind being that tortured. To make matters worse, the media seem to thrive on that kind of heartache.”

  “I just got out of voir dire on the Sessions case before I came here.”

  “You mean you actually picked a jury that could be unbiased?”

  Cutler grimaced. “Unbiased? That remains to be seen, but I have my doubts.”

  “Gail Sessions has to be insane to have killed her own children, son.” Mary paused and regarded him thoughtfully. “Only, you don’t see it that way, do you?”

  “Nope. I think she knew exactly what she was doing, and I aim to go for the jugular.”

  “That could hurt you in the polls with women. Postpartum depression is a serious medical problem.”

  “I recognize that, but that’s not the issue.”

  Mary sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you.” A twinkle suddenly appeared in her eyes. “Besides, I know I wouldn’t win.”

  “Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Cutler responded in a teasing tone. “I’ve been on the other end of your sharp wit and tongue.”

  “Why, Cutler McFarland, that’s not a very nice thing to say about your mother the preacher.”

  He laughed. “Not even if it’s the truth, Reverend McFarland?”

  “It’s so good to see you laugh,” Mary said on another serious note. “But you still look so tired.”

  “I’m weary to the bone, but I can’t give in or up.”

  “Will the other case be as draining? The one concerning that abortion-clinic shooting?”

  “Yep, and just as time-consuming. Plus all the others in between. As to when I’m going to find time to stump on my behalf, that remains to be seen. If I don’t do my job, I’ll get beaten for sure.” Cutler paused and took several sips of coffee, then added, “To make matters worse, Salem Caskey jerked the rug out from under me.” He repeated their conversation in detail.

  “Oh, son, I’m so sorry. You and Salem have been friends forever.”

  “He thinks I duped him with his kid. I’ve tried to think of how I might make him see the light, but so far I’ve come up empty-handed.”

  “Do you want my advice?”

  “Always.”

  “Leave him be. If he ever sees Nathan for what he is, it won’t be because of anything you’ve said or done.”

  “I know you’re right,” Cutler said, “but dammit, I hate to think of our friendship going down the drain because of a dopehead.”

  “That dopehead happens to be his son,” Mary responded in a soft, chastising tone.

  “I hope I’d have enough sense not to excuse my kid.”

  “Is something going on I don’t know about?” A quizzical grin toyed with her lips.

  Cutler was taken aback. While he was thinking of a suitable comeback, Kaylee’s face jumped to the front of his mind. If marriage had been in the cards for him, which it wasn’t, she was the type of woman he’d look for. Just thinking about her now, and those hot kisses they had exchanged, recharged his groin.

  At this time in his life, however, even the thought of making that kind of commitment scared him. Sex was one thing—a very pleasant thing—but marriage was a different matter.

  Suddenly Cutler grinned unabashedly. “Sorry, no grandchildren in the offing.”

  “Too bad. I thought maybe you and Julia—”

  “That’s never going to happen. She’s a friend and that’s all.”

  “Promise me you won’t grow old alone.”

  “Aw, Mom, we’ve been down this road too many times to count. I can’t make a promise like that. Hell, I just don’t see myself as marriage material.” Cutler grinned with a wink. “At forty, I know my biological clock is ticking, which means I should probably get off dead center.”

  Mary laughed outright. “You can poke fun if you like. But that’s not a bad idea. Keep your age in mind.”

  “Will do,” Cutler quipped, peering at his watch, then lunging to his feet. “I gotta be in court ASAP.” He leaned over and gave Mary another peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
/>   “Get some rest,” she said to his back.

  He merely waved his hand and kept on going.

  “So how was Jenkins’s pulse today?”

  “Elevated. I was late. Need I say more?”

  Angel whistled. “Dumb move.”

  Cutler shot his investigator a look. “I was with my mother.”

  “Still a dumb move.”

  “You’ve made your point.” Cutler didn’t bother to contain his sarcasm.

  Angel grinned, unaffected. “Hope so.”

  “Speaking of the judge, got anything for me? I haven’t talked to Snelling. I think he’s avoiding me.”

  “No shit.” Angel eased back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “He’s not avoiding me, though.”

  “You two been talking, huh?”

  “Yep. About your favorite judge, too.”

  “Now you’ve got my attention.”

  “And what I have to say is going to make your day.”

  Cutler’s tired brain sprang back to life, and his gaze turned piercing. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You have an appointment tomorrow with a Ben Andrews.”

  “Am I supposed to know him?”

  “He’s one of those cases the good judge dismissed.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s his sister who’s the key here. She allegedly knows Jenkins well, according to her brother, that is.”

  “Oh, baby, this is really getting good.”

  “Ben said when his sister returned from a date with the judge, she was all beat up.”

  “Where’s the sister?”

  “At this point she’s unwilling to come forward, so brother’s speaking on her behalf.”

  “What you’re saying is that Jenkins slapped her around?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “I want to talk to the girl.”

  “Sure you do, but you gotta go through brother first.”

  “I’ll hear what he has to say, but—”