‘Even when it’s the death of his girlfriend and an unknown child.’ Kaz put her glass down with a bang. ‘Yes. My ex-husband is slick enough’ She looked away, her eyes burning. Damn. She thought she’d cried herself out over Jeff, years ago. But these tears were hot. Anger.
‘If he had everything in place to snatch his daughter, then this was a gift for him.’ Devlin’s voice was very soft, reflective.
Kaz pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘When I think … All the arrangements … flights, hotels … the funeral. He was comforting me, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Did you sleep with him?’
‘No!’ Kaz’s body jerked. ‘No,’ she repeated more quietly, meeting Devlin’s eyes. He’d shocked her but, curiously, she wasn’t offended. Taking prisoners clearly wasn’t Devlin’s style. He was blunt. And intuitive. She hadn’t slept with Jeff, but she might have. She shivered. Once the horror had got a grip on her she’d been too numb, too sick – but that first night, when Jeff had held her as she wept …
They’d cried together …
Devlin was watching her, eyes hooded. ‘It wouldn’t have been impossible, in the circumstances,’ he suggested.
‘I know.’ She let out a pent up breath. ‘All that time he was with me.’ Those awful, endless hours. ‘He had Jamie hidden somewhere. Who did he leave her with?’
‘Friend, another girlfriend, a business associate, a paid sitter?’ Devlin topped up their glasses. ‘It’s a possible lead. If we can find out, they might know something. If anyone comes to mind, feel free to share.’
‘Nothing at the moment. Do you think that they might still be in the States? Will I need to come back with you?’
Devlin’s face went blank. ‘You don’t need to go anyplace. Wherever they are, I’ll handle it.’
‘No.’ Kaz shook her head for emphasis. ‘I’m coming with you. If …’ She swallowed. ‘When we find my daughter, she’ll need me.’ She slanted her chin up, ready to fight dirty. ‘How much do you know about five-year-old girls?’
‘Squat,’ he admitted, after a short, interesting pause. There might have been a hint of amusement at the corner of the mouth. Or maybe it was just a nervous tic, at the thought of being alone with a five-year-old. He held up a hand. ‘Okay. You don’t need to draw me a picture. If I get a concrete lead, I’ll call you.’
‘Not good enough.’ Kaz leaned over the table. ‘I want to be part of it. All of it.’
‘No way! This guy snatched your daughter and told you she was dead. This is not some fucking treasure hunt.’
‘You don’t need to protect me.’ Kaz felt herself bristling, made herself relax. Emotion wouldn’t cut it with Devlin. ‘I was married to the man – I know him – he’s a chancer. He’s never been violent. Of course, if there is another reason for not wanting me along, then tell me now, and we’ll deal with it.’
She saw the irritation flash across his eyes, before he battened it down. She had intuition, too. He didn’t want her because he didn’t want a civilian involved. No inconvenient baggage, and no camp followers. Well, too bad. Even so –
‘Look – I don’t think this is a game, I’m not playing detective. I won’t get in the way, or interfere. But I can’t sit at home and wait. She’s my daughter.’ Despite her efforts, her voice hitched.
‘Yeah, well.’ Devlin shifted in his seat, deep unhappiness in every line of his body. She saw him shake it off. Resignation? Or was he planning something? She needed to keep her wits sharp here. ‘You come along – ’ he continued at last. ‘You do as you’re told. When I tell you. Before I tell you!’
‘Absolutely,’ she agreed, concealing relief. For whatever reason Devlin had decided not to fight her, she could be grateful. ‘Thank you.’
‘Hrr.’ It was a low pitched growl. ‘Seems to me, as husband’s go, your ex was pretty much a waste of space. So – why d’you marry him?’
Kaz shrugged. ‘Because he asked me?’
Devlin’s spiked glance told her exactly how that wasn’t good enough. She took a reckless slug of her wine. You may as well tell him the truth. ‘Jeff … swept me off my feet,’ she said, after a second’s pause. ‘He was all those storybook things I told you. Every girl’s fantasy. And … I wanted to believe him. I wanted the whole thing, with him. Husband, home, family. Roses round the porch. My mum and dad … They never married. You knew that?’ She skimmed over Devlin’s swift nod. She’d got used to it now. The admission didn’t wound any longer. ‘Oliver and Suzanne – it never seemed to matter to them – it was all part of the bohemian lifestyle.’ Kaz wrinkled her nose. ‘When they split up, it was just Mum and me. She was great, and I still saw Oliver occasionally, when he was in London, but I always wanted to be part of a family. Childhood dream, and all that. We – I thought Jeff and I were starting something of our own. Jamie was meant to be the eldest of six kids. I wanted that solidarity. I wanted to belong. It was all about what I wanted. I didn’t see … ’ She studied the pattern made by a speck of salad dressing, spilled on the tablecloth. ‘I really did think Jeff wanted all those things, too.’ She looked up. Devlin’s face wasn’t telling her anything. ‘I was blinkered and self-absorbed and pathetically needy.’ She kept right on looking at Devlin. Now there was an expression in his eyes she couldn’t read. ‘And Jeff had his own agenda.’
‘And that would be?’
‘My father.’ She heard the flatness in her voice. ‘If I’d been able to deliver, then it would have been fine. But I wasn’t.’
‘Jeff wanted what from your father? Money?’
‘Not that simple.’ Kaz shook her head. ‘Jeff is a frustrated artist. He wanted my father’s patronage, to be his protégé. To be fair – and that hurts – Jeff isn’t without talent, but he likes life easy. He wasn’t prepared to apply himself. Not in the way Oliver demanded. Jeff thought he was going to cut a swathe straight to the top of the art world. My father was the route he chose. Through me, though I didn’t realise it for a long time.’
She stifled a wince at the memory. The screaming, door-slamming row when Jeff had finally thrown the truth in her face. Even after six years, and a baby together, she hadn’t seen it coming. She’d shut her eyes to so much.
Devlin’s silence somehow made it easier to talk. ‘Oliver welcomed Jeff at first. Despite all his efforts, he’d never managed to find a glimmer of promise in me. No artistic ability at all. When I brought him a son-in-law, ready to kneel at the foot of the master – Oliver was thrilled. Unfortunately Jeff didn’t take very well to kneeling, and his ambition was bigger than his talent.’ She paused, sipping wine. ‘I wanted so much to make the marriage work. When I found that I was pregnant we bumped along for a while. Jeff does love Jamie – but … There were other women. In the end even I had to admit it was over. Sad, sordid, banal story.’
‘Bad luck.’
‘Bad choices. Too many assumptions. Won’t make that mistake again,’ she said firmly. She sat back, closing the subject. The conversation ball was in Devlin’s court now.
Devlin frowned. He got the message. No-go area. Her chin was up, with a tilt he’d already begun to recognise. Courage. It was setting a slow simmer in his gut – something suspiciously like anger. Jeff Elmore was a grade-A asshole, as well as a kidnapper – but there was something else here, too. ‘Your father thinks you have no artistic talent, when you have two gold medals from the Chelsea Flower Show?’ He sat back a little when she stared at him. ‘I just checked out your website,’ he defended himself. He’d wanted to know about the gardening thing, so he’d done a little fishing. And come away intrigued. ‘Designing and building a garden – that takes skill.’
There was surprise in her eyes. ‘Arranging plants and flowers – it isn’t like working in oils and canvas.’
‘Well it impresses the hell out of me – seeing as I don’t know a daisy from the hole you’d plant it in. It might not b
e painting, but in my book it’s art. It’s just different, that’s all.’ He saw a flicker in her eyes. Pleasure. The simmering in his gut damped down. Warm. They sat for moment, just looking at each other. Then he dragged his mind back to the matter in hand.
‘Would your father know where Jeff might be? Have they kept in contact?’
‘I wouldn’t think so. Jeff was a disappointment and Oliver doesn’t do disappointment.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘My father is a great man. A genius. I respect that. But there’s a certain single-mindedness. High expectations.’
Devlin eased back in his chair. ‘I guess geniuses don’t necessarily make hands-on parents either – not much time for bedtime stories and trips to the zoo?’
She looked startled. ‘I can’t begin to imagine Oliver at a zoo. A sculpture park maybe.’ She gave a lop-sided grin. ‘When I was seven years old I remember wishing for a dad who’d push me on the swings and tuck me up at night, but that’s not what Oliver is about. Even then, I understood that my father was different.’
Devlin digested the information, put it with a certain look in the eyes. Understanding didn’t stop something hurting. He was beginning to get some interesting insights into Katarina Elmore. More, probably, that she realised. She was opening up to him. At a guess, she didn’t do it often.
That was one of his particular skills, getting people to open up. Usually the setting was more – hostile.
The thought dumped him back into reality, cold turkey. He had no business sitting here, thinking warm fuzzy thoughts. He really had no business sitting here, period.
Kaz Elmore had a knack of getting to some soft underbelly that he hadn’t acknowledged any time in the last century. The length of the eyelashes flirting against her cheek might have something to do with it, but not all. There was just – something about the woman …
She’d sighed. How the hell did a mere exhalation of air send something hot and sharp up under a man’s ribs? His ribs? Who are you kidding?
‘When Jamie was born I thought for a while that Oliver was going to turn into a hands-on granddad.’ He saw the shame in her eyes. The memory of a fleeting envy – for her own kid. Honest, to a fault, this Mrs Elmore. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to her. He held them still. ‘I thought he’d be outraged, that I’d been thoughtless enough to make him a grandfather, but he really took an interest. He always kept up with Jamie’s progress although he had a new partner and another daughter of his own. A new family.’
The wistfulness, that she surely wasn’t aware of, goaded him.
‘You’re certain of that? That they are a family?’
She looked up, startled. ‘Well, I haven’t seen him for quite a while … the divorce … and Jamie … ’ She stopped, shaking her head. ‘It isn’t like when my mother was with him. Valentina is very quiet, a home-maker. It must be different. And he’s older.’
Devlin shrugged. Dysfunctional didn’t necessarily mend, just because it got old. If Olivier Kessel was a crap father then, he was likely still a crap father now. But Kaz Elmore had not just survived she had succeeded, without him. He took a moment to consider that. She was a determined lady, and now she was his client. C.L.I.E.N.T.
He had all he needed. He pushed back his chair, to signal that the meeting was over. Time to get the show on the road and the disturbing Mrs Elmore off the premises. Give a man room to do what he had to do. Like figure out what the fuck he’s got himself into? Oh, yeah – that.
Kaz felt a small flutter of disappointment when Devlin got to his feet. Reluctantly she followed. Confidences were over. Devlin was back to business again. She’d told him a lot, more than she should, and he’d undoubtedly guessed a whole lot more. Yet she didn’t feel exposed. She was comfortable with him. Surprise made her frown. Take care around this man.
‘What?’ He was watching her.
‘Uh – you didn’t answer my question, a while back,’ she improvised. ‘Is Jeff still in the States?’
He flipped a hand. ‘It’s a big place. Plenty of room to hide. D’you think that he’d stay? Would he want to?’
‘I don’t know. I would say not, but … How would he get Jamie out of the country?’
‘There are ways – but a small girl isn’t like an adult. We can’t rule out that he just slipped under the radar. And got away with it. I guess cancelling her passport wasn’t the first thing on your mind.’
Kaz caught her breath. Her stomach swooped, giving her a queasy spasm. She still hadn’t grasped all the implications of this. ‘He could have just got on a plane?’
‘No one was looking for her.’
‘Because she was meant to be dead.’ Kaz shut her eyes, taking it in. ‘You’ll check on that?’
‘Of course. And I need you to give me a list of friends, family, acquaintances, anyone you think might help him, any place you think he might go.’
‘I have some old address books. I could ask – No!’ She pulled up short, realising the crater yawning in front of her. She could have jumped into it, headlong. The thought made her palms damp. ‘I can’t tell anyone about this, can I? At best they’ll think I’m unstable.’ Bitter recollection of her uncle’s scepticism piled into the sinking feeling in her stomach. ‘And if anyone does know anything, they could warn Jeff.’
‘You need to tread carefully.’ Devlin didn’t sound concerned. ‘But a little healthy curiosity about the whereabouts of your ex-husband wouldn’t look too odd. Just don’t go calling half of London.’
‘I won’t.’ She took a moment to gather herself, looking around for her bag. ‘Thank you for lunch. For everything.’
‘You’re welcome. I’ll be in touch when I have something from Hoag.’
‘Oh. Yes.’ For a second a swirl of blackness made her hesitate. ‘We will find her, won’t we?’ The qualm of doubt was hollow around her heart.
‘Maybe not in a week. Don’t worry.’ Both his hands covered hers. Then he let go. ‘We’ll work something out.’ He slid another business card across the table. ‘E-mail address, and my mobile number. You can send me the list. Let me know who you’re going to speak to – just your closest friends. I’ll take care of the rest. And I’ll follow up any leads you get.’ A hint of warning in the pitch of the voice.
‘Yes.’ She shivered as she picked up the card. ‘Thank you.’ She wrenched herself together and headed for the door.
Devlin stood back while the waiter cleared the table. The glass with her lipstick on the rim was already loaded onto the serving trolley. She’d been wearing some light, clear fragrance. He wondered how long that was going to hang around to bother him. It had been an interesting two hours. Stimulating. Kaz Elmore had issues. She was strong, feisty, all those I-will-survive words, but she still had issues. Some, he guessed, that she didn’t even know about. With her ex-husband for sure. And with her father, too.
Devlin snagged a cup of lukewarm coffee, before the untouched pot got hauled away, and retired to the window to brood. Seemed like Kaz Elmore had got herself tangled up with a couple of men who were major-league assholes. And was still beating herself up about it.
And now she had him.
Kaz watched the door of the tube train open and close, without really seeing it. Her mind was too full. Of Devlin, of Jeff, of her father. Her shoulders twitched impatiently. Why the hell had she dredged up that old stuff from her childhood? This was about finding Jamie, not about her past.
She’d schooled herself not to think too much about Oliver. She’d tried to be what he wanted, not to mind when his impatience showed, not to care when he barely acknowledged her existence. He was a great man, and why should great men make time for bastard daughters, who didn’t even have talent to recommend them? The tiny part of her that had longed for her father to look at her with approval, love, something, was part of another fairy tale. It was a neediness that shamed her, one that Oliver
would have found completely incomprehensible. She was past that now. The search for a hero was well and truly over. ‘No more knights in shining armour.’
A startled grunt from the man sitting opposite her jerked her back to reality. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
She’d talked too much to Devlin about things that didn’t matter, but it was no use worrying about it now. The man had skills. A small shiver trickled along her spine. Skills, and a fabulous mouth. And she’d insisted she was going to work with him. Which she was, so too bad for both of them.
Next time she’d hold her guard higher.
Kaz tracked her mother down at the select dress agency she ran with two friends. Luckily the tiny shop on the King’s Road was empty. Suzanne had her arms full with the billowing skirts of a lace-and-taffeta ball gown.
Kaz closed the shop door and leaned against it.
‘I hired Devlin. He’ll help us find Jamie.’
‘Darling, I’m so glad.’ Suzanne dumped the dress and crossed the shop to give her daughter a quick, hard hug.
Kaz searched her face. ‘It is the right thing, isn’t it? Going after this?’ she asked, suddenly uncertain.
‘What else can you do? If Devlin’s story is true, and I think that it is, despite what Phil says, then he has some kind of stake in this, too. If it’s a scam, you still need to know. It’s a case of giving him enough rope, to see if he’ll hang himself.’
After a moment Kaz nodded. ‘He’d already found out who the other little girl was. She went missing a couple of days before the accident.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Yes.’ Kaz exhaled shakily. ‘His partner is investigating that end. Devlin knows what he’s doing, Mum. He’s focused and professional and I … We have a deal. One week.’ Her hands clenched and she moaned softly. ‘What can we do in one week?’
‘It sounds as if Devlin has done quite a bit already,’ Suzanne said briskly. ‘If we must, we’ll find the money to employ him, for however long it takes. I’ll sell another of your father’s precious sketches. There’s a dealer in Singapore who’s always pestering me for more. And it will annoy your father, which is a bonus.’ She paused. ‘There are other things than money, though.’ She shot her daughter an ambiguous look as she bent to pick up the abandoned gown. ‘I wasn’t always faithful to your father, you know.’
Never Coming Home Page 5
