The Heir

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The Heir Page 13

by Joanne Rock


  He breathed through the idea, telling himself it was over-the-top and nonsensical to think so. Knowing better all the while. He respected the way she championed her nephew, the way she protected him and put her whole life on hold to make sure she got the answers she needed about the boy.

  But the torment of his thoughts eased as Nicole nestled sweetly against him, her silky hair a warm blanket on the side of his chest where she lay under one arm. He wasn’t going to question the rise of unexpected feelings where she was concerned. Not when he could breathe in the apple scent of her shampoo and stroke the smooth curve of her hip.

  He admired her strength. Was grateful for the way she loved and advocated for a boy that Desmond should have been protecting all this time. He’d always felt indebted to Zach for giving him the courage to stand up to his father, and yet he’d let him down by failing to look out for his heir. And yes, he felt sure in his gut that Matthew was Zach’s kid. He would do whatever it took to help the boy from here on out. And Nicole, too, as his guardian.

  She won’t welcome your help.

  He remembered how defensive she’d been about preserving her role in Matthew’s life, warning him she wouldn’t give up her guardianship “no matter the financial incentive.” Not that he would contest it, of course. But if she was that prickly about accepting help, it would make his path forward uncomfortable.

  He kissed Nicole’s damp forehead and vowed to uphold the promise he’d made to give her this night of pleasure. That much, at least, he could provide.

  And, he hoped, whatever they shared tonight would soften her for the moment when she realized Desmond would need a place in Matthew’s life if the boy was truly Zach’s son. As the long-lost heir of Desmond’s best friend, Nicole’s nephew would become his highest priority. That was an obligation Desmond would never relinquish.

  Not even if it put him at odds with the woman in his arms.

  Eleven

  Nerves stretched taut the next morning, Nicole sat beside Desmond in the interview room at the correctional facility in Nevada City. They’d been subject to security screening after the hour-long drive from Desmond’s house, but apparently the meeting place was more secure for the group than at the local lockup in Truckee.

  She sipped the tea a kind corrections officer had brought for her while they waited at a conference table. The room was sparsely institutional, with cream-colored walls and a mirror that they’d been informed was a viewing panel, even though they’d been assured no one watched on the other side. The meeting would be recorded, however, since Vivian Fraser had promised information about Alec the police would find helpful, according to her attorney.

  Did she plan to throw her former lover under the bus for the crimes she’d committed? Even Desmond had questioned whether Vivian would have acted alone to threaten Chiara and hack the influencer’s social media accounts. Or did Vivian plan to accuse Alec of some other crime?

  The tea was barely warm, but the orange pekoe flavor provided a welcome distraction from the tension that had been growing between her and Desmond ever since breakfast. Their morning had been awkwardly polite and cool after the night had stripped her defenses bare. She’d followed the scent of pancakes to the kitchen and been ready to wrap her arms around his waist. Rub her cheek against his broad back. Absorb his strength and warmth the way she had all night long. Except then he’d turned around and greeted her with a formal good morning that left her reeling.

  Her appetite had vanished, and the nervous knot in her stomach had started twisting and never stopped. Luckily, she’d been able to spend their car ride texting with a counselor from Matthew’s school and making arrangements for a parent conference next week. Nothing urgent, the administrator had insisted. Just to check in after the tumultuous personal year Matthew had experienced. The exchange had helped her put the day in perspective, reminding her of her priorities. Nothing was more important than making sure Matthew was well adjusted and had whatever help he needed to cope with the changes in his life. As much as she wanted to find her nephew’s father, that task came second to his emotional health.

  She wouldn’t let the hole in her chest with Desmond’s name on it keep her from returning to San Jose and the life she had there. Desmond had backed off after their time together. Again. And that spoke volumes about how he viewed her. She’d gone into the evening thinking she was going to focus on the physical. But even though he’d delivered every ounce of pleasure she could have ever imagined, Nicole had discovered a wellspring of tender new emotions underneath the physical connection.

  After the way he’d flipped the switch on that this morning—retreating once more—she now understood that she wouldn’t be able to share that kind of encounter ever again. Physical pleasure didn’t exist without deeper emotion behind it. At least, not for her. She’d only been fooling herself to think otherwise.

  The door to the interview room swung wide a moment later by a trim, uniformed female officer leading the way for a petite brunette in a prison jumpsuit two sizes too large for her. Behind her, a burly older man in an olive-green suit strode in carrying a briefcase. A second officer brought up the rear, a middle-aged guy with thinning blond hair that had been carefully combed.

  While the officer shared names and explained the interview was being recorded, Nicole studied Vivian in the seat across from her. In the stories about Alec’s assistant online, she’d been a redhead, but now there was no hint of the color or her former curls. But even with no makeup and the orange jumpsuit, Vivian remained a lovely woman. She possessed delicate features and graceful movements, although her eyes were shrewdly assessing when they landed on Nicole.

  The officer leading the meeting, Lieutenant Bragg, opened the floor to Vivian, who glanced briefly at her attorney before beginning to speak. Unfortunately, Nicole missed her opening words because Desmond’s hand crept over to hers underneath the table. The warmth of his palm covered the back of hers where it rested in her lap, and she felt another piece of her heart slide into his keeping, even though he’d made it clear he didn’t want any such thing.

  “The long and short of it,” Vivian was saying when Nicole was able to dial back into her words, “is that Alec promised to bail me out if I’d take the fall for him for hacking Chiara Campagna’s social media. I knew it might take him a couple of days to make that happen, but now that it’s been weeks, I know he has no intention of following through on that promise.”

  The male officer interrupted her, leaning forward so that his tie clip clunked against the conference table. “Are you suggesting Alec Jacobsen hacked into Ms. Campagna’s accounts and threatened her?”

  The lawyer began to bluster about immunity and protecting Vivian’s rights, but the prisoner resumed speaking. It worked to quiet the others since she had the microphone.

  “I have kept Alec’s secrets for fourteen years because I—” She stopped herself. Made a wry, angry face that twisted her features. “That is, I used to love him. But I won’t protect him any longer, and I’m done keeping his secrets. Alec stole Zach’s art and ideas for his video game. He knew about Zach’s child and needed to prevent Zach’s heir from claiming intellectual property theft.”

  Nicole didn’t realize she’d gasped until all eyes swiveled toward her. Desmond shifted his chair closer to hers in order to drape a protective arm around her shoulders. The weight and the warmth of him helped her steady her breathing. She clasped a hand around the gold pendant she wore that had belonged to her sister, the one containing Matthew’s photo as a baby.

  Zach Eldridge was Matthew’s father.

  “How do you know for certain?” Nicole managed finally, questioning the woman directly. “About Zach’s child?”

  At this, Vivian turned to her attorney, but the older man nodded.

  The prisoner’s eyes met hers. “Alec hacked Zach’s email and read all the exchanges between Zach and Lana. The notes made it clear they were having an
affair and that Lana broke up with Zach when she found out she was pregnant.” She shrugged as she shifted in her seat. “Maybe she grew a conscience? Or maybe she realized it would be uncool to raise a kid with a student. I don’t remember her exact reasoning.”

  “You saw the emails?” Nicole asked, wondering if this woman’s testimony would be enough to prove that Zach was Matthew’s father. Then again, maybe she would say anything, considering she was under arrest and seeking a deal.

  “I read some of them,” Vivian admitted, her dark hair falling forward as she leaned over the microphone on the table. “Alec liked showing them to me to prove he was recovered from his crush on Lana. Alec and Zach were both fascinated with her, and all three of them hung out a lot the summer before she started working at the school.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Desmond as she explained, “At first, Zach and Lana were just friends, because Zach thought he was gay. But then she started seeing Zach alone, and things heated up between them before school started. It sounded like Lana tried to put an end to it once she began student teaching at Dowdon.”

  At least she’d had some scruples about that, Nicole thought with a sliver of relief. It had upset her to think Lana would have approached a student in her care, no matter how close their ages, but if the friendship had begun earlier, it was at least a little more understandable. Nicole wondered how her sister had met the boys that summer, but it had been a small town. They could have crossed paths most anywhere.

  Before she could ask any questions, Vivian continued.

  “Anyway, Alec turned sort of bitter about it because he was honoring Lana’s wishes to stay away and Zach still met up with her. Alec started keeping tabs on them so obsessively, I figured he still liked her. Plus Alec started keeping notes on Zach’s idea for a video game, always prodding Zach to think through all the different levels of the game and what should happen for the battles.” Her expression grew more animated, eyes widening. “Zach’s ideas were brilliant.”

  Nicole felt Desmond tense beside her. His grip tightened on hers.

  “Are you saying the whole game was Zach’s idea?” Desmond asked in a tone that might sound composed to someone who didn’t know him. But Nicole heard the anger underneath.

  She felt a cold, indignant rage of her own growing. A sickness, even, at the idea of how people could quietly hurt those they professed to care about.

  “Pretty much.” Vivian shrugged. “Although before you get any worse ideas about Alec, he was as devastated as anyone when Zach died. Their friendship might have been in a weird place, but Alec admired his genius. He immortalized it with the game.”

  There was something so wrong in that statement, so out-of-touch with human emotions and what real friendship meant, that Nicole felt ill. How could Zach’s so-called friend have kept his “brilliant” mind a secret all those years, soaking up the adulation of fans and game critics for work that hadn’t been his own? Worse, how could he have purposely cheated an innocent child out of learning about his father?

  The room wobbled a little. She really didn’t feel well.

  “Will you excuse me?” she murmured, relinquishing Desmond’s hand in a sudden need for air as the room closed in on her. Her vision narrowed to pinpricks of images in front of her while her heart raced. “I’m so sorry.” Standing, she lurched for the door while chairs scraped back around the table to follow her. Or maybe help her. “Please. Finish without me. I just need—”

  Her remaining vision blurred a bit as she pushed through the door and into the hall.

  A strong arm gripped her. Steadying her.

  “I’ve got you.”

  She didn’t need to look to know Desmond was beside her. His voice anchored her. His scent, so achingly familiar by now, felt more comforting than it should. Especially since, now that she had the answers she needed about Matthew, she would have no reason to see Desmond again.

  That wasn’t the reason for her panic. But it didn’t help.

  “I’ll just splash some cold water on my face, and be out before you know it.” She needed a time-out. From Vivian. From the hurt she felt for her sister, her nephew.

  For herself.

  Her stomach knotted tighter. Glancing up, she saw the door to the ladies’ room nearby and threw herself toward it. Out of his grasp. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Maybe if she said it enough times, she could make it true. “I just need a minute.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Desmond asked Nicole on the car ride to his home two hours later.

  He regretted not hiring a car service for the trip so he could have given her his undivided attention, but that morning he’d been so amped up after their night together that he thought driving his own Range Rover would give him a way to stay busy. Now, when he kept turning anxious eyes to Nicole to scan her pale face, he hated that she wasn’t his sole focus.

  He hadn’t trusted her not to faint and hit her head in the bathroom by herself, and he’d had every intention of remaining by her side. But a woman who worked at the security checkpoint at the correctional facility had intervened, insisting she would make sure Nicole was safe.

  He’d waited outside the bathroom for fifteen minutes, until Nicole had opened the door long enough to ask him to please finish the interview without her. She couldn’t look at Vivian Fraser again after the things the woman had admitted.

  Thankfully, Vivian hadn’t protested the absence, since the woman had conveyed the main point she’d wanted Nicole to hear. Matthew was Zach’s son. She’d promised digital access to some of the emails that would prove it, as she’d kept an old hard drive in a safe-deposit box to protect herself in case Alec didn’t bail her out as he’d promised. Desmond had related everything he could remember to Nicole for the first half of their trip home, but she’d gone silent afterward.

  “I’m fine.” She’d said that more than once back at the jail, but he had yet to believe it. Her head tipped against the passenger side window, her eyes sliding closed. “Just tired after the emotional upheaval. I don’t know if I really had a panic attack like Heidi—the woman who sat with me in the women’s room—believed, but it was scary. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe even though all I was doing was breathing.”

  Guilt for what she’d been through—not just today, but for all the weeks she’d worked to uncover the truth about her nephew’s father—was a ten-ton weight on his shoulders. He hadn’t seen the truth that had been right in front of him for years because of misplaced loyalty that Alec Jacobsen had never deserved.

  Hearing how Alec had worked to undermine Zach, and later Matthew, had detonated inside him, decimating his old beliefs and trust. The damage to the Mesa Falls partnership—which would require legal intervention to buy out Alec’s share—was the least of Desmond’s concerns. He hated that Zach’s heir had gone thirteen years without knowing the people who’d loved Zach.

  “I’m so damned sorry I didn’t recognize that Alec was a lying, dangerous bastard. Even sorrier that I stood in your way while you were trying to find out the truth for yourself.” Grip tightening on the steering wheel, he took the access road that led to his home. “Vivian admitted she was the one who got you fired when you were working at the ranch after the holidays, by the way. Alec knew you were asking questions and interceded.”

  Another fact their private investigator hadn’t turned up. But then, Alec had seen to it that the supervisor who’d fired Nicole was let go—and paid well to take an extended overseas vacation—the next day. One more failure that was on Desmond’s shoulders.

  “I’m just glad to go home,” Nicole admitted, her attention still focused out the window. “My questions served their purpose to get things moving. Alec started making mistakes, which is how we finally learned the truth.” She turned to him as the Range Rover climbed the incline toward his property. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Alonzo Salazar knew about Matthew and never t
old you?”

  “I’m guessing Lana never revealed the father’s name. If she never told you, why would she tell the teacher who oversaw her? Alonzo probably just wanted to help her with the child since he knew she was raising Matthew alone.” Desmond remembered so many ways his old mentor had guided him through the worst year of his life, helping a devastated kid find his way. “He was good like that.”

  “It was a kindness I can never repay, since Matthew has thrived at his school.” She twisted the gold pendant that hung from the chain around her neck. “With any luck, I can borrow against a future settlement of Matthew’s claim the game Hooves of Thunder was stolen from his father. Even if he only wins a small share of the proceeds, it will certainly cover his tuition.”

  Desmond had never been so grateful to reach his house before, because he needed to put the vehicle in Park to turn and address what she’d just said. Something that had raked over his every last nerve.

  “Nicole.” He switched off the ignition for good measure, buying himself a few extra moments to make sure he approached this conversation the right way. “You don’t need to borrow a cent. As Zach’s heir, Matthew now owns a share of Mesa Falls, effective as soon as I contact a lawyer to draw up the paperwork. The ranch has operated at a profit for years.”

  She tensed in the passenger seat, her hands sliding into her lap, fingers twisting together.

  “Zach was never an owner of the ranch. We’re not interested in charity, just what Matthew is legally entitled to.” Her words, softly spoken, cut straight through him.

  On a day of hurt and anger, that her refusal of his help sliced him deeper than anything else was a testament to how much she’d come to mean to him. He had to swallow past the ball of pain in his chest.

  “Everything we worked for in Montana was because of Zach. Because we couldn’t save him. Because we loved him, respected him and hated that the last days he spent with us—time that we were supposed to be helping him forget about his problems—ended with his death.” The wound had never healed. Desmond had just built his life around the hole in him, but it would always be there. “He saved me, Nicole. Caring for his son is not charity. It’s a debt.”

 

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