“That’s ridiculous!” Binnie said. “Who are you people?”
“Busybodies,” the doctor told her. “Don’t worry, they’re not police. I know who they are.” Dr. Abernathy must have alerted him, Kevin thought.
“What do you mean, they’re not police? What do the police have to do with us?” the counselor asked.
“Binnie, would you step outside for a moment? I want to talk to our guests alone.” The doctor’s tone made it clear this was not optional.
“Well…certainly.”
He barely waited until she’d gone. “You two are trespassing and violating my privacy, not to mention that of our clients.” Graybar indicated the album. “If you reveal anything you’ve learned here, I’ll see you in court.”
Alli showed no sign of being intimidated. “We know at least two families that have received extortion demands. We’re not the ones who have to worry about ending up in court.”
“If someone’s making trouble, the problem must have originated in Costa Buena,” the man replied. “We have nothing to hide here.”
“I should think you’d be eager to stop whoever’s doing this,” Kevin interjected.
“If you were serious about your allegations, you’d have gone to the police,” Graybar snapped.
“The least you could do is hear us out!” Alli countered.
“I’m asking you to leave.”
They’d learned as much as they were likely to and it seemed counterproductive to antagonize Dr. Graybar more than necessary. There was always a chance that, if he hadn’t known about the blackmail, he might reconsider his position upon reflection.
“We’re done here,” Kevin said. “But if you’re concerned about your clients, Doc, you ought to recognize that we’re on the same side.”
He thought Alli might argue further, but for once she took her cue from him. They walked out, passing a clearly distressed Binnie Reed in the corridor. In the front room, the receptionist smiled at them. “Did you want to schedule another appointment?”
“No, thank you,” Kevin replied.
They took the stairs down two flights rather than waiting for the elevator. “That man ticks me off!” Alli said. “He acts as if we’re the enemy.”
“You think it’s LeMott, don’t you?” Kevin asked. “You think he’s the guy who loaned Dr. Graybar the money.”
“It sounds like the kind of thing he might do. He must have figured he could turn a considerable profit.”
Kevin shook his head. “Extortion is a risky business, and LeMott has too much to lose. It doesn’t make sense.”
Alli couldn’t disagree. All the same, the photograph linking the mayor and the doctor aroused strong suspicions.
When they emerged into the dwindling early-evening light from the bottom floor, he realized it was after five o’clock. His mother should have locked up the office by now, and he was in no mood to work on any other cases.
“We need to brainstorm,” he said. “I’m not sure right now what our next step should be.” The obvious choice, to make the police aware of what they’d learned, would break his promise to Mary.
“I’ve got an idea,” Alli said as they reached his car.
“Let’s hear it.”
“They have early-bird specials on Mondays at the Sailor’s Retreat,” she explained, citing a popular waterfront restaurant. “There’s a band, too.”
“And we should do this because…?” He left the question unfinished.
“Dancing inspires me,” Alli responded. “It clears my mind.”
Kevin put the car into gear. “Are you joking? We need to sit down and review our notes.”
“Correction. We need to sway in each other’s arms and trust our subconscious minds to figure things out for us.”
She had to be either teasing him or working some angle. “Is this your way of manipulating me into letting you stay at my house?” he demanded.
“You mean as opposed to sending me back to an apartment where two thugs may be watching for me? No, wait. Forget I said that.”
He ought to be glad she was easing off, but curiosity got the better of him. “It isn’t like you to back down.”
“You never do what anyone pressures you to,” she said. “I discovered that if I don’t say anything, sometimes you come around on your own.”
“Seriously?”
“It worked with my suggestion of posing as a couple,” Alli said. “If I’d pressed the point, you’d never have agreed.”
“Sure I would have.” He didn’t like the idea that she’d discovered a way to manipulate him “So you’re not going to make an issue of staying at my house?”
“It wouldn’t do me any good, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, I won’t. I’ll pack my things after dinner.”
He grinned. “And I’m pleased to know that you won’t be nagging me about going dancing, because you know that wouldn’t work, either.”
“Unfair!”
“What is?”
“You’re using my own tactics against me,” she protested.
“Nobody forced you to fess up.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. They were halfway home when she said, “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I won’t nag you about going dancing.”
“Great.”
It was great. Fantastic. He’d won the right to spend the evening undisturbed rather than being dragged to some fancy restaurant.
An image flashed through Kevin’s mind of a Sailor’s Retreat ad that ran occasionally in the paper. Among the Monday-night dinner specials, he’d noticed the grilled-salmon dinner, which came with baked potato, fresh salad and a large slab of strawberry pie.
This was foolish. He had plenty of food in the refrigerator. So what if he’d already made too many meals of it?
For the rest of the short drive, Kevin focused on his impressions of Dr. Graybar and Binnie Reed. The counselor had seemed staggered to hear about the blackmail. Although the doctor had been harder to read, Kevin didn’t have the impression he’d sold out his patients. Still, he couldn’t be sure.
Maybe Alli was right. If he stopped trying to force his brain to come up with a solution, it might do the job unaided.
That didn’t mean he had to go dancing. Stubbornly, he kept silent as they arrived home.
When he opened the fridge door, the leftovers didn’t look any more appealing than they had a day earlier. Kevin was trying to decide what to defrost when Alli, who’d disappeared briefly, wafted into the kitchen wearing a slinky red chemise over flowing black pants.
“Going somewhere?” he grumbled.
“Just because you don’t feel like dancing doesn’t mean I can’t go,” she said.
“Alone?”
“I called Larry but he isn’t home.” She brushed back a tendril of chestnut hair. She’d put it up in a style that emphasized the slenderness of her neck. “I never have trouble finding a dance partner.”
Kevin closed the refrigerator. “I thought we were going to discuss what happened this afternoon and map out a course for tomorrow.”
She made a helpless gesture. “My brain is clogged. Not one single idea is breaking through. I’m going to clear it out using centrifugal force.”
“As in dancing?” he said. “You’re worse than a nag. You give a man no peace.”
“You don’t have to come.” Alli stretched lazily, which had the effect of pressing her breasts against the thin fabric of the chemise. She wasn’t wearing a bra, Kevin realized with a tingle of fascination. “If you’re more comfortable at home, you should stay.”
Of course he functioned best in his own territory. What man didn’t? A little relaxation in front of the TV ought to help him unwind.
Kevin had a sudden image of his father ensconced in the easy chair in the family room, the remote control on one side and a bag of chips on the other. Was that what he was turning into? Middle-aged at thirty-four?
A beautiful wo
man stood in front of him, provocatively dressed and ready for action. Plus, the meal included strawberry pie.
“If I agree to go…” he began.
“I won’t rub it in,” she promised.
“No clasping your hands overhead and running a victory lap?”
“Not where you can see it.” She moved forward and rested her hands on his shoulders, swaying to music he couldn’t hear. “You’ll be glad you came.”
Her sensuous movements and the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric were bringing out an achingly pleasurable male response. Kevin knew they were playing with fire. All the more reason to remove themselves to the safety of a restaurant, he reflected.
“Take a jacket,” he advised, easing away. “It turns cool in the evening.”
“Not with you around,” she teased. “Oh, all right. But I don’t promise to wear it.”
As he shrugged into his sports coat, Kevin acknowledged that, once again, she’d won without pressuring him. The curious part was that he didn’t feel as if he’d lost anything.
Not yet, anyway.
Chapter Ten
They arrived a short time later at Sailor’s Retreat on Pacific Coast Highway. Through a gap between buildings, Alli could see Serene Harbor, where a scattering of sailboats cruised through the dusk toward their moorings.
As she inhaled the salt air, her spirits lifted. She hadn’t been kidding about the confusion in her brain.
Visiting the doctor’s office with Kevin had proven an unsettling experience. Never having paid much attention to babies before, she’d been surprised by her reaction to the scrapbook. Suddenly, they’d become more than cute little figures. Through their parents’ eyes, she’d seen them as real people bursting with dreams and discoveries.
She’d experienced the wonder of a baby learning to talk—a little girl discovering the joy of books on her mother’s lap—a boy attending a baseball game with his father. She’d glimpsed how it might feel to share the magic of parenthood.
Had this happened because she was playing the role of would-be mother? Or had the presence of a virile male in the guise of her pretend husband stimulated some previously inactive hormonal instinct?
Her turbulent thoughts made Alli uncomfortable. She wanted to put them behind her and become her happily child-free self again.
A bit of physical exertion on the dance floor should do the trick. And if her brief flirtation with Kevin in the kitchen was any sign, it might activate some other urges that would completely take her mind off babies.
“Would you care for a table on the deck?” asked the hostess, arriving with a couple of menus beneath her arm. The tables appeared to be solidly filled, Alli realized.
“We were planning on dancing,” she said.
“The band doesn’t start for forty-five minutes,” the hostess explained. “There’s no one out there and you’ll be able to hear the music when it starts. But you can wait for a seat in here if you prefer.”
Alli glanced at Kevin. “Is outside okay with you?”
“Sure,” he answered. “I’d rather not have to wait.”
And it might be romantic, Alli thought. She decided not to say so.
When they emerged onto a wooden terrace, her soul expanded to greet the vista. Overhead, magenta and cobalt streaked the darkening sky. Across the bay, on a curving spit of land, house lights pricked the deep blue.
“What a stunning view.” She pulled on her wrap, glad that she’d brought it.
“I’ll send a waitress right out.” Leaving their menus, the hostess departed.
“I forgot how refreshing it is to break my routine,” Kevin admitted.
“Me, too,” Alli said.
“I can’t see you ever landing in a rut. You’re too spontaneous.”
“Spontaneity can be a rut in its own way,” she admitted.
“How’s that?” Opposite her, an overhanging lamp bathed Kevin in its glow.
She remembered their previous conversation about her father. “It can become an excuse for running away.”
“From men?”
“Or from myself.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Which part of yourself are you running from?” he pursued.
The part that wanted to drown in his dark gaze, Alli mused. The part that wanted to lean into his shoulder and dream about having babies with him. The part that longed for someone she could depend on.
Until, at some level, he let her down.
She knew Kevin wasn’t a jerk like her father. He would never disappear and leave his wife and child to fend for themselves. But there was more than one way to abandon a person.
Kevin maintained a shield around him that he only lowered for brief spans. In those moments, she glimpsed a warmth and kindness that almost beguiled her into hoping for more.
But he’d made it clear he had no desire to give her any more. She’d be a fool, and unfair, to expect it. The better she got to know Kevin, the more she understood that he was fundamentally a loner.
It was the fatal flaw that precluded any future they might make together. If someday Alli loved a man without reservation, the little girl inside had to know he would always be there for her.
Maybe she was foolish to think she even wanted to trust a guy that much. In many ways, she was a loner, too.
He’d asked what she was running away from, she remembered. “At the moment, I’m running from impending starvation.” She flipped open the menu and examined the column of specials. “I’ll have the ginger-grilled mahimahi. I’m paying for my own meal, by the way.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m treating,” Kevin said.
“No, thanks. Dining out was my suggestion. If I weren’t unemployed, I’d pay for yours, too.”
“Generous of you to say so.” He watched her with a mischievous expression.
She chuckled. “I know. Isn’t it nice the way I made that offer so I don’t have to actually do it?”
His face crinkled with shared amusement. And something more—something close to tenderness.
Whatever was going on tonight had to be the result of the moon rising over the bay and the sound of water lapping against the deck, Alli thought. They sat cocooned in a private world.
She realized she’d been with Kevin for almost three solid days. She couldn’t remember spending this much time in proximity to a guy. Maybe she ought to be tired of him by now, but she wasn’t.
A waitress came out to take their drink order. Since they were both hungry, they ordered their dinners as well.
After she left, Kevin said, “Are we allowed to discuss our investigation or does that run counter to your method of clearing the mind?”
Alli glanced at her watch. “We can review our impressions for about five minutes. Then we have to stop and let everything sink in.”
“That makes sense to me, weird as it is. Which means that you’re either smarter than I gave you credit for, or I’m losing my grip.”
“It means you’re loosening up,” she said. “You’re lucky I don’t charge for the therapy.”
From a distance, she heard the faint pulse of recorded music and pinpointed the source as a yacht at anchor. Lights blazed and Alli saw figures moving on deck. Apparently she wasn’t the only one interested in dancing tonight.
Kevin’s gaze flicked toward the yacht and returned to her. “So what did you make of Dr. Graybar?”
“I don’t believe he’s blackmailing the patients. Even though he may have financial problems, I can’t picture him taking such a crude approach.”
“Neither can I,” Kevin agreed. “He’d have been better off declaring bankruptcy.”
“Unless he owes money to a mobster,” she noted.
“I’d believe almost anything about Klaus LeMott,” he said. “But why loan somebody a huge sum and then try to recoup it by breaking the law? If my guess is right, that loan approached a million dollars. At twenty thousand a pop, he’d have to rip off a huge number of families just t
o break even. He’s too smart to do that.”
“Looks like we’ve hit a dead end,” Alli concluded.
The waitress brought their drinks and salads. As they ate, sharing a comfortable silence, darkness fell. No other couples joined them on the deck, so they had the night and the bay to themselves.
When Kevin’s leg brushed hers beneath the table, Alli gave it a playful rub before shifting her ankle away. His edgy smile made her breath catch.
“Playing with fire?” he asked.
“Testing your self-control,” she retorted.
“What about your self-control?”
“I don’t have any.”
He regarded her skeptically. “I’m beginning to suspect you can muster plenty of self-control when you need to.”
He was right on that score. Alli liked to come across as a free spirit, but in reality she had a fierce survival instinct.
“Let’s talk about something else, something we never get a chance to discuss because we’re so busy running around,” she suggested. “What’s your favorite kind of movie?”
“Action adventure,” he said. “And science fiction. How about you?”
“Thrillers with a love story where the heroine’s as smart as the hero.” Honesty forced her to add, “And romantic comedies with gloriously happy endings.”
“As long as they’re really funny?” he put in.
“Yes. And original and surprising.”
They began naming specific films and debated their merits. By the time they had moved on to music, dinner arrived. Her mahimahi tasted as good as it looked.
“I’d better hurry and find another job so I can afford to eat this way more often,” Alli said.
“What’s your ideal position?” Kevin asked. “Have you ever considered television news? You’ve got the looks for it.” He spoke so matter-of-factly it almost didn’t sound like a compliment.
Alli knew her height and bone structure suited the camera, so she didn’t bother to protest. She’d never considered newscasting as a profession, however.
“TV news is about creating an image, writing snappy sound bites and filling up airtime. While there are some terrific correspondents, mostly you have to make mountains out of molehills to compete with the other earnest talking heads,” she said. “The money’s great, but the work would suck the soul out of me.”
The Baby Scheme Page 12
