The Delacourt Scandal

by Sherryl Woods

“I’ve had things on my mind.”

  “Such as?”

  “Finding a job,” she blurted, seizing on the most believable excuse she could think of.

  “I’ve told you before, I can help with that. Or if you don’t want me to make any contacts for you, I could loan you some cash till you’re back on your feet.”

  She would sleep on the streets before she accepted a dime from a Delacourt. “That’s very kind,” she said stiffly. “But this is my problem.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay. I’m not going to give you another lecture on false pride. Just know that both offers are there if you decide you need anything.”

  Suddenly restless, Maddie stood up and began pacing, glancing idly at the photos as she moved about the room. Tyler watched her silently. When she came to the spot where the baby picture had been, he seemed to tense even as she realized it was missing. There was a faint mark in the dust on the tabletop confirming precisely where it had been.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, his voice strained.

  “Nothing,” she said, reaching randomly for another picture. She grabbed a photograph of his parents that had evidently been taken many years earlier. “Your parents look very happy here.”

  “They were on their honeymoon. That was probably the last real vacation my dad took,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe that’s why he’s encouraging Michael to stay away. Perhaps it’s sentiment, rather than an attempt to keep me here.”

  “What happened to the other picture that was here?” she asked casually. “Did you move it?”

  He met her gaze evenly. “Was there another picture there? I don’t remember.”

  Should she push him on it? What did she have to lose? “Wasn’t it a baby picture? You never did say who it was.”

  He stood up so abruptly, the movement threw her off balance, and she stumbled slightly but recovered quickly. She put her hand on his arm, felt the muscle jerk beneath her touch.

  “Tyler?”

  “Drop it, Maddie,” he ordered, not meeting her gaze.

  “But—”

  “I said to drop it. Let’s go. I’ll walk you back to O’Reilly’s so you can get your car.”

  She sighed heavily. It was clear she wasn’t going to get a straight answer. What disturbed her even more, though, was that she couldn’t quite decide if her disappointment was professional or personal. The line was getting more blurred all the time.

  “Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, you’ve been holding out on us,” his brother Jeb taunted on Monday morning. He strolled into Tyler’s office, poured himself a cup of coffee, then planted himself on the corner of the desk as if he intended to linger awhile.

  “Go away,” Tyler snapped. He was in no mood to discuss Maddie, or much of anything else, for that matter.

  “Is that any way to talk to your big brother?”

  “In your case, yes. Go bother your wife.”

  “Brianna’s away checking out some prospective drilling site that is going to make us all fabulously wealthy.”

  “And you’re at loose ends? Go investigate something.”

  “I am.”

  “What?”

  “Your love life. Fascinating stuff to hear Mother tell it. She liked your young woman, though she wasn’t entirely sure she was—and I quote—one of our kind.”

  Tyler’s gaze shot up. “She said that?”

  “You know Mother, always concerned about the Delacourt image. She really had high hopes for you and Mary Claire.”

  “Blast it all, I told her that wasn’t in the cards. The last thing I want is Mother choosing my dates for me.”

  “Which explains the unexpected arrival of Maddie,” Jeb concluded. “Was she a decoy or someone you’re really serious about, suitable or not?”

  “Maddie is just…Maddie,” Tyler responded, unable to find a designation that didn’t make too much or too little of what he felt for the infuriating woman.

  Her poking and prodding about that picture of his daughter had annoyed him so much that, after delivering her safely to her car the night before, he had vowed he would never see her again. He didn’t need a woman around who was dedicated to reopening old wounds. Unfortunately, this morning he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind, though until Jeb’s arrival he’d been making a valiant attempt.

  Jeb studied him curiously. “And Maddie being ‘just Maddie’—is that a good thing?”

  “Hard to tell. We’ve just met.”

  Jeb settled on a corner of his desk. “Then tell me about her. Cute and perky was about all I got from Mother.”

  “Leave it to Mother to make that sound derogatory. Maddie is cute. She’s also a perpetual optimist. And annoyingly mysterious. New in town. Looking for work. Beyond that I don’t know a lot.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “At O’Reilly’s. She turned up there a couple of weeks ago. One night she introduced herself. We got to talking. I said good-night and that was that.” He grinned. “Until she turned up on my doorstep with Rodney.”

  Jeb regarded him incredulously. “Your doorman?”

  “Seems she was concerned because she hadn’t seen me for a couple of nights. She managed to work the unflappable Rodney into a frenzy until the two of them came sneaking up to check to see if I was dead or something.”

  “Oh, boy,” Jeb murmured.

  Tyler glowered at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That was when you fell for her, wasn’t it?”

  “I haven’t fallen for her. I’m intrigued, yes, but I’m also suspicious as hell.”

  “Why?” Jeb demanded. It was obvious that every investigative instinct had instantly gone on full alert.

  “Because she dropped into my life out of nowhere. And there was something Kevin said, too,” he admitted reluctantly. “She’d asked about me before we met.”

  “That’s not so unusual. Maybe she’d been checking you out for a couple of nights and wanted to be sure you were available before she approached you.”

  Tyler shook his head. “Before that, before she’d set eyes on me.”

  “Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that. She’s after something, little brother. Want me to poke around a little, see what I can find out about her?”

  “Absolutely not. If she’s up to no good, I’ll figure it out for myself.”

  “Look, Ty, I know you’re a good judge of character, but that’s when your hormones aren’t involved.”

  “Who says my hormones are involved?” He sighed heavily. “Never mind. It had to be Mother. I gather she saw the kiss.”

  Jeb grinned. “She did indeed. Made her toes curl, she said. She considered coming out and hosing you two off.”

  “She never said that.”

  “Not in those exact words, maybe,” his brother agreed with a chuckle. “But she was definitely convinced that all her dreams for you and Mary Claire were going up in smoke, pun intended.”

  “Then I accomplished exactly what I set out to accomplish,” Tyler said with relief. “I got Mother off my back.”

  “Not exactly.”

  He felt a little flicker of alarm. “Meaning?”

  “She’s wondering if you’ll have a summer wedding or wait until the holidays.”

  “She isn’t,” Tyler protested.

  “This is Mother we’re talking about. She most definitely is.” Jeb winked at him as he stood up. “If I were you, I’d go ahead and book the church and get it over with. Unless Maddie turns out to be an ax murderer, your goose is cooked, my friend.”

  “You don’t have to sound so blasted happy about it.”

  “Hey, Dylan, Michael, Trish and I have been taking bets on when you’ll get to the altar. Thanks to these recent revelations—which I have no intention of sharing with our siblings—my money’s on August. Your Maddie strikes me as an impatient woman.”

  “She is not my Maddie. She is not my anything.”

  “Tell it to someone who’ll believe you,” Jeb taunted. “In the meantime, if you cha
nge your mind about checking out the bride-to-be, let me know. I don’t have anything important on my plate right now.”

  “Maybe I’ll pass the word on that to Dad. I’m sure he could think of something for you to do. Maybe a little stint in accounting. Hell, maybe you could just take over here, and I could get back to Louisiana and away from all the plotters and schemers in this family. And now that I think about it, does Mother have any idea that you’re all placing bets on my future? She’ll be praying for your sorry souls. You know how she feels about gambling. She had her fill of that back when Daddy was wildcatting to get his stake to start up Delacourt Oil. She considered that gambling enough to last a lifetime.”

  “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. It’s your life. You won’t hear another peep out of me.”

  “I wish,” Tyler muttered. “You are genetically incapable of keeping your nose out of other people’s business.”

  “Just the Delacourt genes, bro. You have ’em, too. Maybe it’s time you put ’em to use.”

  Maybe it was, Tyler thought, after Jeb was gone. Maybe it was time he tried to get a fix on just exactly what Ms. Maddie Kent was up to.

  Unfortunately, when he went looking for her, she was nowhere to be found.

  If the weather was steamy in Houston, it was downright oppressive in Baton Rouge. Maddie sat on a park bench and blotted ineffectively at the perspiration on her face. She could do nothing about the dampness trickling between her shoulder blades and down her back.

  This whole trip, made impulsively after the disappearance of that baby picture and Tyler’s reaction to her questions about it, was turning out to be as much of a bust as her earlier phone queries.

  She’d tried every way she could think of to find out where Tyler lived when he was in Baton Rouge—utility companies, phone directories, real estate records. She’d butted up against tight-lipped bureaucrats at every turn. Even public records yielded nothing.

  Now she was trying to work up the courage to go to the Delacourt Oil offices and see if she would have any better luck in person than she had when she’d called. Surely she could think of some believable ruse that would weaken their precious rules.

  The risk, of course, was huge. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that someone would alert Tyler that a woman had been asking questions about him. He was a smart man. It wouldn’t take him two seconds to conclude it was her. She doubted he would be happy about it.

  Was it worth it? Was she likely to glean any significant information that could offset Tyler’s usefulness as her entry into the Delacourt clan? She would never know the answer to that until she tried.

  Maybe if she played the role of an old girlfriend trying to locate him just to say hi, no one would suspect anything. Old girlfriends probably popped up all the time in the life of a man as gorgeous as Tyler. Of course, that still didn’t mean that no one would alert him about her search.

  She sighed, then concluded that since she was here, she might as well go for broke. She checked her notes for the address, then headed toward the waterfront. She found the Delacourt offices in a converted warehouse that looked as if it had been around since the 1800s at least. Inside, however, the facilities were thoroughly modern and computerized. She wondered for a fleeting second if she was capable of breaking into the system, and if so, what corporate secrets she might discover.

  Forget it, she told herself sharply. She was a reporter, not a thief. A file turning up right under her eyes was one thing. Hacking into a computer was quite another. She wanted to get information to nail Bryce Delacourt, not land in jail herself.

  “Can I help you?” a woman in her early twenties asked with a friendly smile. Her Southern accent was as thick and slow as molasses.

  “You surely can,” Maddie said, falling comfortably into a similar speech pattern. “I am an old and very dear friend of Tyler Delacourt’s, and I am wondering if you can help me locate him.”

  The woman’s friendly expression wavered ever so slightly. “Sorry. I can’t help you. It’s against our policy to give out any information on employees.”

  “He does work out of this office, doesn’t he? I could swear that’s what his mama told me when I called there the other day. She said I’d find him in Baton Rouge, and since I was on my way over here, I thought we could catch up. It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other.”

  “And I’m sure Tyler would love to see you,” the woman said politely. “Unfortunately, he’s in Houston at the moment. I’m surprised his mother didn’t mention that.”

  “Oh, dear, maybe she didn’t understand that I was already on my way.”

  At that moment a tall, broad-shouldered man in jeans, work boots and a chambray shirt strolled out of an office. He gave a nod in Maddie’s direction.

  “Is there a problem, Gwen?”

  “This woman’s looking for Tyler.”

  He turned then and surveyed her more intently. “Is that so? Why did you want to see him?”

  “We’re old friends.”

  “And your name is?”

  “Mary Claire,” she said, seizing on the name of the woman Tyler had done all he could to avoid back in Houston.

  “Well, now, Mary Claire, I’m real sorry, but I’m sure Gwen explained that Tyler’s out of town.”

  “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Now that’s the million-dollar question. Soon, I hope.”

  “Maybe you could tell me something,” she said, regarding the man hopefully. “Is he involved with anyone just now? I’d hate to make a fool of myself by trying to catch up with him if he’s serious about someone. His mama said she didn’t think he was.”

  The man’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Mary Claire, I make it a rule around here not to discuss the personal lives of the people who work for me. Tyler’s no exception, not even if the person who’s asking is an old friend.”

  He said it in a way that told Maddie he wasn’t buying a word of her routine. He gestured down the hall. “Why don’t you come with me for a minute, though?”

  “Really, I should just run along. I’ve already taken up far too much of your time.”

  “No, please, I insist,” the man said in a way that suggested he wouldn’t be pleased by a refusal.

  With a sigh, Maddie followed him into his office.

  “Have a seat,” he said politely.

  When she was perched on the edge of a chair, he stood next to his desk towering over her. It was an intimidating tactic and, unfortunately, it was having the desired effect. Maddie wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Obviously, she was not cut out to be a brazen liar.

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about, Mary Claire?” He gave her a penetrating look. “If that is your real name.”

  “Okay, Mr….?”

  “Corrigan. Daniel Corrigan.”

  “Here it is,” she said, making it up as she went along and sticking at least in the same ballpark as the truth. “I really am a friend of Tyler’s. And I really do need to see him. I got the runaround when I called, so I decided to stop by and try my luck in person.”

  “Here’s the best I can do. I’ll give him a message and let him decide if he wants to speak to you.” He picked up a pad of paper and handed it to her. “You can write the information yourself and I’ll see that he gets it.”

  Maddie accepted the paper, jotted down a phony telephone number, then signed it Mary Claire. Daniel Corrigan looked it over, then reached for his phone. Her stomach plummeted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Tyler.”

  “Now?”

  “I figure if you went to all this trouble, it must be important, right?”

  “It’s not that important,” she stressed. “It can wait till he gets back from wherever he is.”

  “Will you still be in town then?”

  “Probably not.”

  He smiled. “Then there’s no time like the present.”

  As he began to dial, Maddie silently called hers
elf a series of nonflattering names, beginning with fool and ending with idiot.

  “Tyler,” Corrigan said, his voice booming. “I’ve got a pretty little lady sitting right here in my office who says she’s looking for you.”

  Maddie cringed.

  “Her name? She says it’s Mary Claire,” he said in a way that clearly conveyed his doubts. He handed the phone to Maddie. “He’s all yours.”

  “Thank you,” she mouthed silently, then said a cheery hello.

  “Maddie?”

  There was no mistaking the shock in Tyler’s voice or the fact that he’d recognized hers. Why bother denying it? “That’s right,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “What the hell are you doing in Baton Rouge? And why did you tell Daniel you were Mary Claire?”

  She sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, why don’t you sit tight?” he said, making it an order, not a suggestion. “I’ll be there in a few hours, and you can explain it to me.”

  “There’s no need for you to go to all that trouble.”

  “Oh, yes, there is,” he said fiercely. “Let me talk to Daniel again.”

  Reluctantly she passed the phone back to the man whose gaze had never once left her face. He listened to whatever Tyler had to say, then nodded.

  “Not a problem,” he said eventually. “She’ll be right here when you get here.” His gaze locked with hers. “You can count on that.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tyler fought to control his temper all the way to Baton Rouge, then finally gave up and allowed it full rein.

  What the devil was Maddie up to? Why was she poking around in his life, pretending to be someone else? Was this feminine interest in him that had run amok? A fatal attraction, as it were? Or something far more sinister, some sort of tangled plot she’d dreamed up to get to his parents through him? All of his early suspicions returned in spades, but none of the scenarios he came up with fit what he knew about Maddie.

  Then, again, what did he really know about her? Not much, except that she was all but impossible to resist. She was sexy and smart and mysterious.

  And devious, he reminded himself. Best not to forget that.