When Lightning Strikes Twice

by Barbara Boswell

  “But you managed to be a high achiever at the same time,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “Stanford Law School, Law Review. You certainly beat your father at his own game professionally.”

  “I know. I guess I intended to. I wanted to be different from him and at least professionally, I was. I took pride in that difference until my marriage to Sharolyn ended up being even shorter than any of Frank’s. That shocked me into facing some very unpleasant truths. I seemed to be following in the footsteps of the man I professed to loathe. Was I going to keep on marrying and having kids, over and over again?”

  “How many times has your father been married?” Rachel was curious. “Does he have other children besides Austin and Dustin?”

  “Frank’s second marriage, three years after he divorced my mother produced twin boys and lasted nearly two years. I remember them as infants, they were identical with dark hair and dark eyes. They looked a lot like their mother Julie.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I don’t know. When Frank and Julie divorced, the twins were a year old and she moved to Miami. Not long after, she met and married the son of Cuban refugees who owned a chain of appliance stores and were quite successful. Julie called my mother and told her that Frank had relinquished parental rights to the twins and that her new husband was going to adopt them. She’d decided never to tell the twins the truth about Frank, that everybody in the new family agreed it was best for the babies to believe they were their stepfather’s real sons. Julie asked my mother to tell Colette and me never to contact the twins; we were part of their past which she intended to erase. Mom agreed to Julie’s wishes and didn’t maintain contact with them. I have no idea who or what or where the twins are today.”

  “It seems like a bad idea, trying to reinvent the past like that.” Rachel frowned. “Imagine what a shock it would be for the twins to find out the truth after years of believing something else. There are books written about that trauma, talk shows devoted to it.”

  “I know. I’ve warned myself not to be surprised if someday they turn up on my doorstep, furious that they’re not Cuban, and demanding to know all about the jerk who actually fathered them. For their sake, I hope the truth never comes out.”

  “Who was the next Mrs. Cormack?”

  “Someone named Madeline. A real bitch. Even as a kid, I could tell. I’d liked Julie but I detested Madeline. She and Frank had a daughter Zara that Colette and I only saw twice as a baby because we moved to California not long after she was born. Frank visited us a few years later and said Madeline was long gone, that she’d moved to Texas with Zara. He didn’t know where she was and didn’t care, he was just glad he was out of the reach of child support.”

  “Back then, he was.”

  “Yeah, those federal laws made to mandate child support payments across state lines are the antidote for the Frank Cormacks of the world. Sometimes I think that’s why he’s stayed with Carla this long, because he knows he’d still have to pay for the kids, that he could be tracked down and his wages garnisheed. Maybe Frank’s finally grasped the concept that he can’t financially maintain multiple households.”

  “That, and the fact he’s getting older and it would be harder to attract women,” suggested Rachel.

  “Age won’t stop Frank. He still sees himself as irresistible, a prime specimen of manhood. Truth is, he never was, not with that raging personality disorder of his—which keeps getting worse.”

  “Poor Carla.” It wasn’t the first time Rachel had thought or said it. She knew it wouldn’t be the last. “More than ever I admire your commitment to come to Lakeview after your father’s accident, Quint. To help Carla with Austin and Dustin.”

  “I had a long talk with my uncle Joe after I got the news of Frank’s accident. I thought about the way Joe had stuck by me, even when I was a hellion teen and a total embarrassment to him. He was always there for me, and I knew it. That’s probably why I didn’t completely screw up, why I did make it through college and law school. I saw a chance to repay Uncle Joe, to do for somebody else what he’d done for me.”

  “And by then, you were a father yourself. You were able to see Brady in Austin and Dustin, and you just had to help them.”

  “Stop, I don’t recognize this paragon you’ve created,” drawled Quint.

  “A paragon you’ve created,” she amended warmly. “Quint, you mentioned the possibility of the twins arriving, wanting to know about their background. Do you ever wonder if your half sister Zara will show up on your doorstep someday?”

  “Hell, I’m half expecting her to.”

  Rachel’s lips curved into a dry smile. “Let’s just hope it’s not the same day that the twins arrive. Your house isn’t big enough to accommodate everybody.”

  They both laughed.

  “So now you know the truth about the Cormacks, something of a white-trash saga. Nobody would blame you if you ran out of here screaming, Miss Saxon. Why would a high-class lady like you want to fraternize with the likes of me?”

  “Your mother wasn’t white trash and neither was Colette. You aren’t, and neither is Brady or Austin or Dustin.” Rachel gazed at him, her face radiant with warmth and pride and love. “I love you, Quint. I’m not going to leave you unless—” she gulped. “Unless you tell me to go.”

  “Never.”

  She liked the sound of that. Resolute and resolved. Without a trace of commitment phobia. “That’s it, then.” She strove for the same finality. “We’re together.”

  He looked down into her shining hazel eyes and gently brushed a lock of tousled hair from her face before touching his lips to hers. “Just like that? No cautionary lectures that we’re moving too fast?”

  “Are we moving too fast, Quint?” A faint smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Do you want to run out of here screaming?”

  “Not a chance, baby.” His lips quirked into an answering smile. “I love you, Rachel.”

  Rachel reached up to touch his face, caressing his cheek with her fingertips. She’d wanted those words, needed them. And Quint had given them to her.

  “This is almost too easy.” She fairly sighed it.

  “Easy? Are you kidding?” Quint gave an incredulous laugh. “Rachel, you’ve hated my guts for the past year. I would say that definitely qualifies as an obstacle on the road to true love.”

  “But we didn’t know we were traveling on that particular road until very recently, did we?” Her eyes gleamed as she ran her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, his chest, and then down to his flat stomach.

  “I guess not.” Quint’s breath caught. “Now we do and—” His mind splintered as Rachel’s hand found him. Extending the already overextended metaphor wasn’t possible. His gift for extemporaneous speech was overcome by a rush of sensual pleasure, so intense it bordered on pain.

  He had to be inside her, a part of her.

  His wild need matched her own. Rachel carefully guided him into her, with the expertise of a woman well versed in pleasing her lover. She could hardly remember the not-too-long-ago days when she’d been so inexperienced she hadn’t even realized she was missing anything by not having Quint in her life. Or deep inside her body, just the way he was right now.

  Dana sat in her car outside the Oak Shade Police Station, trying to interest herself in the magazine she’d purchased at the convenience store where she had placed her call for help to Eve Saxon. That had been well over an hour ago. She’d driven directly to the station and parked discreetly along the side of the building.

  She had been here when the police car arrived, and the two officers she’d met at the Doll House emerged from it. A few minutes later a police van pulled up, and a steady stream of suspects filed out.

  Dana flinched when she saw Wade and Shawn troop from the van, up the stairs and into the station, under the policemen’s watchful eyes. Misty Tilden was there, too, clinging to Shawn. Clearly, this was the group from the Doll House raid and—with the exception of Wade and Shawn who looked startl
ingly clean-cut and out of place—a misbegotten group it was.

  She felt her pulse rate soar. Even that very brief glimpse of Wade had a potent physical effect upon her. It was the first time she’d seen him today, and for a few moments Dana let herself feel how very much she’d missed him. And how much she missed their former easy camaraderie.

  Normally, he would have called her a number of times today to keep her updated on the latest Saxon-Cormack clash, to protest the outcome of the Tilden will. She’d have commiserated with him, too, though his loss was her boss’s gain. Being on opposite sides of the legal fence didn’t affect their relationship; they’d sailed through the Pedersen trial without a hitch.

  SEX CHANGES EVERYTHING. Dana stared at the words printed in bold block letters on the magazine cover. In smaller, lighter type readers were advised to READ THIS BEFORE CROSSING THAT LINE FROM PLATONIC TO SEXUAL. She tossed the magazine into the backseat, too disheartened to attempt the article. Crossing that line seemed to have turned her and Wade into adversaries, and she didn’t want to see it confirmed in print that their relationship was irredeemable.

  She shifted restlessly. Still no sign of Eve, who hadn’t sounded very happy to hear about her nephew’s unfortunate plight. Still, she had agreed to come to the police station, and Dana was sure that she would.

  Now she was beginning to have her doubts. Maybe Eve had just said that to get rid of her. Maybe she’d taken her phone off the hook immediately afterward and enjoyed a good laugh with her police-chief companion about how easily she’d blown off the naively trusting Dana Sheely.

  Dana glanced at her watch. Eve Saxon’s house was less than fifteen minutes away. She’d had plenty of time to get dressed and drive to the station, regardless of what she had been in the midst of doing at the time of the call.

  Dana had no doubts as to what Eve was in the midst of doing—and with whom. There had been a telltale huskiness in the other woman’s voice during their call, and she’d heard a man murmuring in the background. Chief Spagna, of course. Dana thought about the torrid looks the pair had exchanged during their walk through the Library.

  It occurred to her that maybe the chief had talked Eve out of coming. A distinct possibility.

  Dana glanced at her watch. If Eve didn’t show up within the next ten minutes, she was calling Sarah at Quint Cormack’s house. Their boss would hate being summoned to Oak Shade at this hour, but he would come once he learned Misty was involved. Quint would not allow his richest client to be detained and scared as an object lesson. And as long as he was down here, he could help free Shawn and Wade.

  She had no sooner decided on her alternate plan when Eve Saxon’s always recognizable Porsche glided to a stop in front of the police station. Dana was not at all surprised to see Chief Spagna get out on the driver’s side to open the other door and gallantly assist Eve from the car.

  The attorney wore an amber silk shirt and pants designed to flow loosely and sensuously over the gentle curves of her body. It was the kind of outfit that could be dressed up or down, except Eve Saxon never dressed down. Even now, in what she undoubtedly considered casual clothes, having been summoned out of bed late at night, she looked appropriately turned out for a White House reception. Chief Spagna, on the other hand, wearing gray sweats and a steely-eyed stare, looked ready to put some recalcitrant criminal in a choke hold.

  Dana had been hurrying toward them. Now she hung back, feeling intimidated. Alas, Eve spotted her and motioned her over.

  “Hi, Eve. Hello, Chief Spagna.” Dana joined them on the stairs leading into the building.

  “Waiting for the felons?” Eve asked dryly. She turned to the chief and lightly ran her fingertips along his forearm. “Nick, would you mind bringing the little Sheely girl up to current status?”

  The chief looked like he might smile, but he restrained the impulse. His hand rested possessively on Eve’s shoulder as he addressed Dana. “I put in a call to the station shortly after your call to Eve. The Doll House has remained open despite court orders to close down, but the cops wouldn’t have bothered them—they’re busy enough with drunk drivers and underage drinking at the bars—except they noticed two expensive imported cars parked in the lot. They figured there was probably some drug dealers in there and God-knows-what kind of deal going down.”

  He paused. “Then I find out one of the cars belongs to Evie’s nephew.” Left unsaid was the accompanying adjective “fool” or “idiot” or “pain-in-the-butt,” but his tone supplied it instead.

  Dana smiled weakly. “And the other one belongs to my brother’s girlfriend, and he’s with her tonight.”

  She shuddered at the acknowledgment, but there it was. Misty was Shawn’s new girlfriend, and she’d better get used to it. Unlike Tricia, Shawn would never buckle under pressure from their parents. If he and Misty decided to stick together, Lakeview’s infamous young widow would be sitting at the Sheely dinner table at Thanksgiving, exchanging gifts at Christmas and dyeing eggs with them at Easter.

  Dana swiftly put the future from her mind. Dealing with the present was arduous enough.

  “I’m so grateful you two came. I hate to think of Wade and Shawn being held in there and maybe threatened with jail. Of course, I’m sure the police will treat them well and read them their rights and all,” she added in a rush, not wanting to offend the chief by insulting his brother officers.

  Eve merely arched her eyebrows. Chief Spagna sucked in his cheeks. They were a most formidable pair. Dana decided to be quiet for the rest of the time she was with them.

  Ten minutes later, Wade, Shawn, Misty, and Dana trailed Eve and Nick Spagna out of the police station. The chief’s phone call had resulted in the trio being separated from the others and taken to a private office, where they were lectured on the foolishness of patronizing an illegal operation such as the Doll House.

  “They were looking to book everybody on drunk and disorderly charges,” Wade told his aunt. “Since the customers were already drunk and started acting disorderly as soon as the place was raided, they had grounds.”

  “Eddie Aiken wasn’t drunk,” Misty interjected. “But the way he was carrying on you’d think he was. He tried to punch out that big cop!”

  “Aiken has already been charged with assaulting a police officer and resisting arrest,” said the chief. “Additional charges are pending.”

  “Aiken insisted on making his one call to his lawyer so he called Quint’s house.” Shawn sniggered. “He got Sarah, who told him that Quint wasn’t home, and she wasn’t going to disturb him unless it was a matter of life or death. Getting picked up by the cops at the Doll House didn’t count. Aiken started screaming at her, but you know how stubborn Sarah can be.”

  Shawn nudged Dana, who nodded knowingly. “Finally, the cops took the phone away and threatened to charge him with making terroristic threats ‘cause he was saying all kinds of rotten things to Sarah. I bet she was saying them right back.”

  “I wonder where Quint is tonight?” Dana was curious.

  “Who cares where he is!” Wade said sharply.

  “I want to thank you for your help, Ms. Saxon,” said Misty. “If it hadn’t been for you, I could’ve been stuck in there for hours with those drunks and Aiken, on account of my own attorney wasn’t available. You didn’t have to get me out, especially after what happened today with the will and all.”

  Eve shrugged. “Consider it my good deed for the day.”

  “Eve Saxon is a class act,” Nick Spagna announced. “A real lady with brains and a heart of gold.” His arm was around her waist and he hugged her to his side in a proprietary gesture that caused Wade’s jaw to drop.

  Wade continued to stare, bemused, as the couple got into the Porsche, the chief behind the wheel, and drove off. “Class, brains, a heart of gold, and a Porsche, maybe?”

  “Cynic!” scolded Misty. “I think they’re in love.”

  “Aunt Eve and Chief Spagna!” Wade shook his head. “How? When? Was she only pretending to be mad o
n Saturday when she lit into him at the police station? And he sure didn’t seem to like her either.”

  “It was probably just an act,” Misty said knowledgeably. “After all, the Tildens wouldn’t like it if their lawyer was having an affair with the police chief who’s going to bring charges against them, so they had to hide their love. I know from personal experience that the Tildens have no heart when it comes to people being in love.”

  “But now they’re free. They can be open about their love because the Tildens fired Saxon Associates,” concluded Shawn.

  “You two are turning this into a tortured melodrama,” Wade complained. “But the facts don’t fit. There was no reason for secrecy earlier because there were no complaints filed, not until the Tildens broke into your house, Misty.”

  “Well, I don’t know.” Misty was beginning to look bored. “Or care, really. If you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask her when she started seeing the chief?”

  “Easier said than done. My aunt and I have never discussed our love lives with each other.”

  “Though you’d have plenty to discuss, should you ever choose to,” Dana said blithely. “All right, everybody, here’s the plan. I’ll drive you three to the Doll House to get your cars and then I’m going home. It’s late and I’m tired.”

  “Ahh, poor little Dana is tired.” Wade caught her arm and slowed his pace, so they both lagged behind Shawn and Misty. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late with Vicker tonight.”

  “Oh yes, Mom and Dad mentioned you’d stopped by the house.” Dana was cool.

  “Stopped by?” he repeated. “That’s what they told you?”

  “I was trying to be tactful.” She stopped walking and pulled her arm free from his grasp. “Actually, they told me you’d been hanging around since dinner waiting for me. And that you finally left in a huff because I came home later than expected.”