The Novels of Nora Roberts Volume 1

by Nora Roberts

  “Maybe you should spend some time wondering why Rooney was so nervous.”

  “Nervous? He seemed cold, remote, and annoyed, but not nervous.”

  “He had his hands locked together to keep them still.” Gabe backed out of the parking space. “The air-conditioning was blasting in that office, but he was sweating. His jaw was locked so tight he had a tic at the corner of his mouth. He was bluffing his way through it.” Gabe paid the attendant, then eased back into the street. “But little things kept giving him away. And his eyes. He had the look of a man who’s holding trash but keeps bumping the pot.”

  Curious, and fascinated, Kelsey studied him. “You get all that from gambling?”

  “It’s a gift. Something’s got him spooked.”

  “All we have to do is find out what.” She sighed. “I need a phone booth, Gabe. I think it’s time I rounded up the family.”

  Milicent accepted the sherry her son poured her and, feeling magnanimous, patted his hand. “She’s finally come to her senses. Don’t look so concerned, Philip. I’m quite willing to put these past few months behind us. She’s a Byden, after all.” She sat back, sighed, sipped. “Blood will tell.”

  “I certainly hope she’s brought Channing with her.” Candace paced to the window and flicked the lace curtain impatiently. “I see no reason why he should stay at that place if Kelsey’s coming home.”

  “Channing’s doing what’s right for him.” Philip put a gentle hand on Candace’s shoulder. Part of her wanted to shrug it off, but another, deeper part couldn’t bear the thought of any more harsh words between them.

  “I want him to be happy, Philip. You know I do.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “The boy will come around,” Milicent assured them. “It’s just youthful defiance, that’s all. And sentiment. A vet? Really, now. That will pass.”

  She flicked Channing’s dream aside with one elegant hand. “Why, there was a time, if you can imagine it, when Philip was a boy—do you remember, dear?—and he wanted to be a baseball player. Of all things.”

  “I remember,” he murmured. He’d been sixteen, eager, and despite his bookish appearance, he’d had an arm like a rocket. Of course, that dream had been aborted in its embryonic state. A Byden didn’t play professional sports. A Byden was a professional.

  “Channing will listen to reason, just as Philip did. Your mistake, Candace dear, was in not asserting your authority.”

  “Channing’s over twenty-one,” Candace said stiffly.

  “A mother is always a mother.” Milicent’s smile settled comfortably when the doorbell chimed. “Ah, that will be the prodigal daughter now. Let her apologize first, Philip. She’ll feel better for it. Then we’ll have Cook kill the fatted calf.”

  But Kelsey didn’t look apologetic when she entered the sitting room with Gabe at her side. She did smile at her father and go to him for a greeting kiss. Hoping to mend fences, she embraced Candace before turning to her grandmother.

  “Thank you for seeing me.” She leaned down and kissed Milicent’s lightly powdered cheek. “Grandmother, Dad, Candace, this is Gabriel Slater. Gabe, Milicent, Candace, and Philip Byden.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Philip offered a hand.

  “I don’t mean to be rude”—Milicent’s eyes were cold as they lingered on Gabe—“but I had the impression there was family business to be discussed.”

  “Yes, there is. Old and new. I suppose I should start with the new. Gabe and I are going to be married.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence before Philip recovered. “Well, that’s . . . a surprise. A happy one.”

  “A bombshell,” Candace corrected. “And just like you, Kelsey.” But she softened at the idea of orange blossoms. “Now I suppose sherry won’t do. We’ll have to have champagne.”

  “I won’t have it.” Milicent spoke, her face bone-white beneath her rouge. “I won’t have this insulting behavior in my home.”

  “Mother—” Philip began tentatively.

  “My home,” she said again, thumping a fist on the arm of her chair. “Is this a slap at me?” she demanded of Kelsey. “A subtle insult? You would bring this person into my home, threaten to bring him into this family?”

  Even knowing Milicent, Kelsey was shocked at the reaction. “It’s not a slap, an insult, or a threat. It’s a fact. We’re getting married in a few weeks, at Gabe’s home in Virginia. I’d like it very much if all of you would be there.”

  “Of course we will.” Eager to smooth over the rough edges, Candace stepped in. “We’re all just a little flustered by the suddenness of the announcement, but we wouldn’t miss it for the world. I hope you’ll let me help you with some of the details.”

  “Enough!” Milicent slammed her sherry down with a force that snapped the fragile stem. The remaining drops of amber liquid dripped down to spot the rug. “There is most certainly not going to be a wedding. Apparently, Kelsey, you’ve allowed yourself to be swayed by an attractive face. That’s foolish but not irrevocable.”

  With an effort, she steadied her breathing and maintained her self-control. “There’s been no public announcement, so there will be nothing to tidy up. You”—she pointed at Gabe—“you can save yourself some embarrassment now by leaving.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said evenly. “Embarrass me.”

  “We’ll both go.” Trembling with rage, Kelsey took his hand. “This was a mistake. Whatever else I have to say to my grandmother I can say at another time. I shouldn’t have brought you here and subjected you to this.”

  “Stop it.” Gabe brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed hers just above the ring. “Let her finish.”

  “I’m going to ask you to let me apologize.” Philip moved between his mother’s chair and his daughter. “Certainly this has come as a surprise. It might be best if we talk about it later.”

  “Don’t shield the girl.” Milicent rose and walked to a glossy Chippendale desk. “You’ve done that long enough. It’s time she learned to face facts.”

  “I have been,” Kelsey murmured. “For some time now.”

  “Then deal with these.” She drew out a file from the desk. “I’ve compiled quite a bit of information on you, Mr. Slater. Quite a bit. Professional gambler, ex-convict. The son of an itinerant drunkard with no visible means of support and a cleaning woman. A runaway who lived on the streets and spent time in jail for illegal gambling.”

  She kept the file clutched in her hand as she studied Gabe with cold, condemning eyes. “You may have developed a taste for the finer things, and amassed some of them, but it doesn’t change who you are.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Gabe agreed. “Just as being born with them doesn’t change who you are.”

  She slapped the file back on the desk. “Get out of my house.”

  “Wait.” Kelsey’s hand closed convulsively around Gabe’s arm. “How dare you do this! How dare you pry into Gabe’s personal life! And mine!”

  “I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect the Byden name. And you, despite this sudden attachment you’ve developed for that woman, are a Byden.”

  “That woman is my mother. Did you put a dossier together on her as well?” she demanded. “Did you search for nasty little secrets to throw in my father’s face to try to keep him from marrying her?”

  “It was, to my regret, one of the few times in his life he didn’t listen to me.”

  The scene had been all too similar to this, Milicent remembered. Philip had actually shouted at her, and given her the ultimatum of accepting that woman or losing her own son.

  “No, he didn’t listen,” she repeated. “And the results were disastrous.”

  “I’m one of the results,” Kelsey tossed back. “Is that what you were doing in Rooney’s office this afternoon?”

  Milicent used one arm to brace herself against the desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw you. You hired him again, didn’t you? To spy on Gabe, to
pry into his past.”

  “It was just a necessary evil to compile information that would bring you to your senses,” Milicent defended.

  “Well, you wasted your money. It doesn’t make any difference to me. I already know all of it.”

  “Then you’re more your mother than I wanted to believe. You deserve what becomes of you.”

  “You’re right.” Kelsey turned to her father. “Did you fall out of love with her, Dad? Or did you allow yourself to be shoved out of it?”

  “Kelsey,” he said, his voice hoarse, because all at once he wasn’t sure of the answer, “what happened then, happened. I apologize with all my heart for this.” Rigid with shock and embarrassment, he looked at Gabe. “To both of you.”

  “Apologize?” Milicent spat out. “I’ve told you the kind of man he is, the kind of man she’s using to humiliate this family, and you apologize.”

  “Yes.” With sorrow in his eyes, Philip looked at his mother. “I apologize for you, for the fact that you’ve used the family name like a whip. A name that has always meant more to you than something as simple as happiness.”

  Pale as death, Milicent gripped the edge of the desk. “I will not be spoken to like that, by my son, in my own home.” Her eyes flashed back to Kelsey. “She’s at the root of this. Naomi is the root of this.”

  Kelsey nodded slowly. “Perhaps she is. I’m sorry. I won’t be back. Let’s go home, Gabe.”

  “Kelsey.” Flushed pink, Candace dashed after them, stopping them at the door. “Please, don’t blame your father.”

  “I’m trying not to.”

  “He would never have allowed this to happen if he’d known . . . surely you know what kind of man he is.”

  Kelsey looked into Candace’s worried eyes. “Yes, I do. You know, I always thought how well you and Dad were suited. How you complemented each other, filled in the blanks.” Leaning forward, she kissed Candace softly on the cheek. “I didn’t realize until right now how much you love him. I should have. Tell him I’ll call him later, all right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I will. And, Kelsey?” Her smile was a little crooked, but it was there. “Best wishes, to both of you.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “QUITE A FAMILY YOU’VE GOT THERE, DARLING.”

  “Okay, Gabe.” Once he’d parked in the drive at Three Willows, Kelsey got out of the car and closed her door with deliberate care. “This isn’t the time to get cute.”

  “No, I mean it. I let you rant half the way home, and stew the other half. That ought to finish it.”

  She wasn’t nearly finished. “It wasn’t just about me. It wasn’t really about me at all. It was about you.”

  “Hell.” In an easy motion, he swung an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve had a lot worse tossed at me. She didn’t bring up the showgirl in Reno, or the business in El Paso.”

  “That’s hardly the point.” She stopped dead on the first step. “What showgirl?”

  “Got your attention.” He gave her an almost brotherly squeeze. “Anyway, I liked your father, and your stepmother. That’s two for three.”

  Baffled, she could only stare up at him. “You’re not even angry. You’re not even angry over what she did. Gabe, she hired a detective to pry into your life, to put together a file on you as though you were some kind of criminal.”

  “And what did she accomplish, Kelsey? You already knew the worst of me, and you defended even that. It makes my laying my cards out on the table up front the best gamble I ever took.”

  “It doesn’t excuse what she did.”

  “But it makes what she did meaningless. Look, maybe I understand, a little, because I never had a family name to defend.”

  Now she stopped in her tracks. “You’re standing up for her?”

  “No. But I figure she made the wrong move. And it ended up costing her a lot more than it cost me.”

  She blew at her bangs. “Maybe I need a little more time to be open-minded. Get my dress out of the car, will you? At least we can make one person happy today when I show it to Naomi.”

  “Why don’t I take you both out to dinner?” He rubbed his thumb over the ring on her finger. He liked seeing it there. “Celebrate?”

  “Why don’t you? I’ll go tell her.”

  She hurried into the house, giving herself one quick shake, a gesture to toss off the worst of the day. She was halfway up the stairs when Naomi called her.

  “Oh, there you are.” One hand trailing along the banister, Kelsey rushed down again. “You were absolutely right about the dress. Gabe’s getting it out of the car, then he’s going to take us out to dinner. Should we see if we can drag Moses away from the barn?”

  Naomi stood in the foyer, her hands clasped. “We need to talk. It might be better if we sat down.”

  “What is it? Oh, God, not one of the horses. Justice was a little wheezy, but I dosed him the way Moses told me.”

  “It’s not one of the horses, Kelsey. Please, come in and sit down.”

  The stranger was back. That cool, controlled woman who had first invited her to tea. Baffled, Kelsey followed her through the doorway. “You’re angry with me about something.”

  “No, I don’t think ‘angry’ is the appropriate word.” She glanced over when Gabe came through the door. “It might be best if we discussed this privately.”

  “No, there’s nothing you can’t say to me in front of Gabe.”

  “All right, then.” Naomi walked to the window, faced out. She needed all her control now, all the self-reliance she’d had to learn to survive in prison. “You had a call while you were out. Gertie took the message. She left it on the desk in your room. I went in there a few minutes ago, to take in a guest list I’d been putting together.”

  Her face expressionless, she turned around. “I’ll apologize for reading it. It wasn’t intentional. It was simply there, and my eye fell on it.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me who called?”

  “Charles Rooney. The message was marked urgent. He wants you to contact him as soon as possible.”

  “Then I’d better see what it’s about.”

  “Please.” Naomi held up a hand. “After more than twenty years, I can’t believe it could be so urgent. You’ve been to see him.”

  “Yes, twice.”

  “For what purpose, Kelsey? Haven’t I answered your questions?”

  “Yes, you have. That’s one of the reasons I went to see him. Because you’ve answered my questions.”

  “And you?” She turned to Gabe, a flash of temper sneaking through the cracks. “You encouraged her in this?”

  “It wasn’t a matter of encouragement. But I understand.”

  “How could you understand?” she demanded, bitter. “How could either of you possibly understand? You can’t imagine what went through me when I saw his name on the desk. I’ve spent more than a decade of my life trying to forget. I made myself dredge it up again, relive it again. A payment, I thought—I hoped—to bring my daughter back. But it’s not enough?”

  “I didn’t go to see him to hurt you. I’m sorry I have. I went because I wanted to help, because I hoped I would find something that would change things.”

  “They can’t be changed.”

  “If he saw something that night he didn’t tell the police. If he held something back.”

  Stunned, Naomi sank to the arm of the sofa. “Did you think, really think you could find something to clear my name? Is that what this is about, Kelsey? A belated bath for the dirty family linen?” With a weak laugh, Naomi rubbed her eyes. “God. What possible difference could it make now? You can’t give me back one second of the time I lost. You can’t take away one whisper, one sneer, one sidelong look. It’s done,” she said, dropping her hands. “It’s as dead and buried as Alec Bradley.”

  “Not to me. I did what I thought was right. And if Rooney called me, there’s a reason. He didn’t want to talk to me today. He was nervous, maybe even afraid.”

  “Just le
ave it alone.”

  “I can’t do that.” She stepped forward, gripping Naomi’s cold hands in hers. “There’s more. What happened to Pride, and Reno. It’s so much like what happened all those years ago. Your horse, Benny Morales. It’s like this terrible echo that’s taken this long to catch up. And it hasn’t stopped yet. Even the police wonder if there’s a connection.”

  “The police.” What color remained in Naomi’s cheeks washed away. “You’ve spoken with the police?”

  Kelsey released her mother’s hands and stepped back. “I’ve been to see Captain Tipton.”

  “Tipton.” The shudder came before she could stop it. “Oh, God.”

  “He believed you.” Kelsey watched Naomi lift her head. “He told me he believed you.”

  “That’s bull.” Trembling, she sprang up. “You weren’t there, in that horible room with the questions pounding at you, over and over and over. No one believed me, certainly not Tipton. If he had, why did I go to prison?”

  “He couldn’t prove it. The photographs—”

  “Back to Rooney,” Naomi interrupted. “Do you really think you can turn this around? Discover some long-overlooked clue that proves I was defending my honor?” The hurt throbbed in her heart, in her voice. “Well, you can’t. And even if you want to help, you won’t be able to. Because I can’t survive going through it again. I just can’t.”

  She walked from the room and hurried up the stairs. Moments later they heard the sound of a door slamming.

  “What a mess.” Kelsey dropped into a chair, closed her eyes. “What a mess I’ve made of things.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’ve stirred things up. Maybe they needed to be stirred up.”

  “We’d come a long way. She and I had come such a long way, Gabe. I’ve ruined that.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I don’t know.” She lifted her hands, then let them fall. “I started off telling myself I was asking questions for me. Because I had a right to know. Somewhere along the line I twisted that, convinced myself I was doing it for her. But I think I was right in the first place. I wanted to tidy it all up. Make it clean. If I believe her, everyone should believe her.”