Until There Was You

by Unknown

  Trent squeezed Dominique’s hand. “And a stronger one to keep walking.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Catherine said, thinking about Naomi and other women she had worked with. “Is there any indication that Mrs. Albright had been abused or battered?”

  “A broken arm from a fall down the stairs when her second child, Zachary, was nine months old,” Luke related. “No other hospitalizations, but their doctor is an old family friend and one of the rare breed that continues to make house calls.”

  “How do you know that?” Catherine asked.

  “She’s had numerous prescriptions for sleeping pills, antidepressants, and pain pills filled at the neighborhood pharmacy over the years. Not enough to indicate addiction, but according to the doctor’s computer records, she’s only been to his office three times in the past five years.”

  Catherine held up her hand. “Forget I asked. I don’t want to hear anything about information obtained from confidential medical records.”

  Luke grinned. “If you say so.”

  Catherine caught herself before she grinned back.

  “So is tomorrow convenient to fly to Atlanta?” Dominique asked. “Daniel sent his private jet to take us.”

  Catherine’s heart rate sped up with dread and anticipation. A sure sign it was too soon to spend any length of time with Luke. “I have a meeting in the morning.”

  “Can’t you cancel it?” Dominique asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Catherine said, unable to meet any of their eyes. “I can recommend someone to take my place,” she offered.

  “That won’t do,” Luke said. “Besides your credentials and expertise, we need a person we can trust. The tabloids would have a field day with this information.”

  Hands clasped, Catherine leaned back in her seat. “Dr. Franklin has an excellent reputation. She and I have worked closely several times in the past.”

  “She isn’t you,” Luke said, his voice deep and almost caressing.

  Catherine’s body stirred with remembered passion when his voice had been a heartbeat away. “I’m sorry.”

  Dominique sat forward, her brow furrowed. “Surely whatever this meeting is isn’t as important as helping Trent verify if this woman is his mother?”

  “I’d help if I could.” Catherine’s voice shook.

  Trent opened the attaché case by his feet. He removed a pale blue baby blanket. Standing, he walked to Catherine, the blanket clutched in his fist. “For thirty-four years I’ve wondered and worried about my mother. Did she abandon me out of love or selfishness? Is she safe? Happy? Does she ever think of me?” His large hands shook. “Now I have a chance to find out. I can’t rest thinking she made sure I was safe, then went back to being abused. Please help me.”

  Dominique was up in an instant, going to Trent, but her angry gaze was on Catherine. “Help Trent or I—”

  “Dominique,” Luke said, cutting her off. “Catherine will make the right decision. Here’s the name of the hotel where we’ll be staying tonight.” He handed her a business card with the information written on the back, his gaze piercing. “I’d take myself off the case, but for reasons I can’t divulge, that’s not an option. Trent and I need you.”

  The words went through her. She had never turned away from a child in need no matter how painful the encounter. No matter his age, Trent was still a child waiting and wondering about his mother. If he were willing to face what might be a devastating encounter, she had to be strong enough and brave enough to help him.

  Catherine stood, her attention on Trent. “I’ll help you in any way I can.”

  “Thank you, Catherine.” Relief swept across his handsome face.

  “I’m sorry,” Dominique said sheepishly. “I should have known you’d help.”

  “Don’t be. You love Trent and you’d fight the devil to keep him happy.” Catherine’s hands fisted. “Don’t ever be sorry you love.”

  “Thank you.” Dominique smiled and leaned against Trent.

  “We’ll wait in the car.” His arm securely around his wife’s waist, they left.

  Unmoved, Luke stood a few feet from Catherine. “Good advice.”

  “If you want my help, we have to set some ground rules.” Unclenching her hands, she shoved them into her pockets to keep from touching him. “Strictly business.”

  Black eyes studied her for a long time. “You’re not sleeping.”

  “Luke, please.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  She vividly recalled what had happened the last time she had said that to him. She wanted to step back, but her feet refused to cooperate. Her mind wanted to move, but her body craved his touch.

  “We were going to eat after we checked in to the hotel. Want to come with us?”

  Surely that wasn’t disappointment she felt because he hadn’t touched her. “No, I have to work on my research paper.”

  “Whatever you say. We’ll pick you up at eight in the morning. Our appointment is scheduled for three so she’ll be alone. We’ll add you to the crew. Dress casually.” He walked to the door. “See you in the morning, Catherine.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Catherine stared at the closed door Luke had walked through without a backward glance or one touch. She had what she thought she had wished for, for Luke to accept her decision, and all she could think of was that nobility hurt like hell.

  LUKE HADN’T SLEPT ANY BETTER AFTER SEEING CATHErine than he had the previous three weeks when he had tossed and turned in his lonely bed in Santa Fe. All during the night in his hotel room he kept remembering his first sight of her. He hadn’t liked what he had seen.

  She had lost weight and had dark smudges beneath her eyes. Seeing her hands stuffed in the pockets of her slacks, her face shadowed, he had wanted to take her into his arms and never let go. From the sudden light in her eyes, she had wanted the same thing. Then the longing was gone, replaced by wariness.

  It had taken considerable willpower to hold back then, and even more when he had picked her up that morning from her condo. She looked as if she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

  Thankfully during the drive to the airport and then on the flight to Atlanta, Dominique, in trying to ease Trent’s trepidations, kept the conversation going. Once there, Luke rented a van to give more credence to their cover of doing a fashion story on Mrs. Albright. Forty-five minutes later he pulled up in front of a beautiful Country French–style home on an oversize landscaped lot in an exclusive gated neighborhood.

  “Dominique will do what she does best, take the photographic layout. Catherine, as we discussed, you’re her assistant. I don’t want to put you in any professional quandary by lying to Mrs. Albright, so Dominique will take care of the introductions. I’m the cameraman and Trent is my assistant.” Luke unbuckled his seat belt. “I want her to meet Trent last. If she doesn’t show any signs of recognition, we’ll play it by ear. Ready?”

  “For over thirty-four years,” Trent said, reaching to open the door.

  Dominique’s hand on his arm stopped him. “If she’s not the one, Trent, we’ll keep looking. We won’t give up.”

  His hand covered hers, his gaze intent. “I shouldn’t be greedy. I have you.”

  “We have each other.” She gave him a quick kiss, then reached for her camera bag and climbed out behind him.

  Luke turned to Catherine, who had been watching them as well. “Regardless of what happens, their love will get them through. That’s what real love is, staying together despite the curves life throws at you.” Before she could answer, he rushed on to say, “Come on, or Trent won’t wait for us.”

  Collecting their equipment, they went up the stone steps to double wooden doors framed by gleaming, three-foot torch gas lanterns. The doorbell, a series of chimes, was answered by a thin black woman in a gray maid’s uniform. The front door opened to a foyer and gallery of black art. French limestone was on the floor.

  Closing the door after them, the servant escorted them through the
two-story entry past a wood and ornamental iron spiral staircase and an oversize Palladian window. After a brief knock, she opened the door to the library. “Mrs. Albright, the people are here from Haute Couture magazine.”

  “Thank you, Ida Mae, please bring us some lemonade,” Mrs. Albright said. Shoving the book in her hand back into the floor-to-ceiling custom shelving, she smiled and started toward them, extending her hand. “Welcome to Atlanta, and to my home.”

  Stylishly dressed in a Dior lime green fitted suit, warmth and breeding emitted from the slender, fair-skinned woman. Faint lines radiated from her light brown eyes. Her auburn hair was short and breezy, and suited her pretty, oval-shaped face. She was fifty-six years old, but she could have easily passed for a younger woman.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Albright, you’re as gracious as I’ve been told. I’m Dominique Everette. I’d like you to meet my crew.” Standing by Mrs. Albright, she made the introductions. “Catherine Stewart, Luke Grayson, and Trent Masters.”

  Trent, who had been holding his head down pretending to be working with a camcorder, looked up, hoping, praying, dreading. “Mrs. Albright.”

  Her eyes widened, her face paled. “My God, no!” The back of her hand covered her mouth. Luke and Catherine steadied the woman, then helped her into a chair by the fireplace.

  “Luke, get her some water,” Catherine ordered, loosening the top buttons on the woman’s suit jacket.

  Crossing to the well-stocked bar, Luke poured a glass of water and returned. “Here.”

  “Drink this.” Lifting up the woman’s head, Catherine aided her in taking a couple of sips.

  “Are you all right?” Trent asked.

  Mrs. Albright flinched at the sound of his voice. “P-please, just leave.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yo-you have to leave. Sometimes he comes home unexpectedly.”

  Trent crouched down in front of her. “You don’t have to be afraid of him.”

  Mrs. Albright’s lips trembled. “You don’t understand.”

  Catherine knelt on the other side of the distraught woman. “Mrs. Albright. Joann, we realize this is difficult for you. It’s just as difficult for Trent. He’s searched for answers his entire life.”

  “Leave me alone,” she cried.

  Catherine nodded toward the case.

  Trent took the blanket from the case Luke handed him and held it out to her. “Did you leave this with me? Are you my mother?”

  She wailed in misery, a keening cry of sorrow. Her trembling hands palmed her face.

  “Mrs. Albright, we’re not here to cause you any embarrassment or undue pain. But you must realize that Trent is in pain also. You’re the only one who can help both of you,” Catherine said.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Marshall Albright stood in the doorway. His two-thousand-dollar suit fit his trim body perfectly. His salt-and-pepper hair gave him a distinguished look that made up for him not being handsome in the conventional sense.

  Trent’s hopeful gaze never left Mrs. Albright. “Please, I have to know.”

  Joann Albright bit her lip to silence her cries at the first, angry sound of her husband’s voice. Over her fingertips, fearful eyes darted from her husband back to Trent. She shrank against the chair.

  Albright stalked across the room. “It’s a good thing I decided to come home early. What kind of staff does the magazine ha—” He faltered when his gaze touched Trent’s. Rage filled his thin face. “Son of a bitch. Get the hell out of my house. Now!”

  Joann whimpered. Down went her head.

  Catherine murmured to her.

  Dominique’s hand closed around Trent’s rigid arm.

  “Trent, let’s go,” Luke said, taking his other arm.

  “Not until I get some answers,” he said.

  “Get out,” Mr. Albright roared. “Ida Mae, call the police and get Rufus.”

  “Father, what’s going on?” asked a light-skinned woman with her mother’s soft mouth and her father’s gray eyes. Seeing the distraught woman, she rushed over. “Mother, what is it?”

  Joann closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “What have you done to my mother?” she angrily asked Catherine.

  “Your mother has had a sho—”

  “Shut your mouth and get out of here,” Albright shouted, cutting Catherine off. “Paige, take your mother upstairs. Don’t just stand there, Rufus, get them out of here.”

  A large black man in a chauffeur’s uniform looked perplexed.

  “Get them out or you’re fired,” Albright threatened.

  “No need for that. We’re going,” Luke said, tugging ineffectively on Trent’s arm.

  “I’m not leaving until I know,” Trent said emphatically.

  Joann started to whimper again. Paige’s arm went around her mother. “Who are you people?”

  “Ask your mother,” Trent said tightly.

  “You bastard.” Marshall Albright hurried across the room to the desk by the bay of windows.

  Luke arrived at the same time. His unyielding hand grabbed Albright’s arm reaching for the brass pull of a drawer. “If you’re going for a gun—bad decision.”

  “Take your hand off me,” Marshall bristled.

  “As soon as they’re outside,” Luke said, then spoke to Trent. “Is it worth Dominique getting in the way of a bullet?”

  This time it was Trent who flinched. “I don’t want this anymore.” Opening his hand, he let the blanket fall to the floor. Taking Dominique’s hand, he left.

  Joann stared transfixed at the blue blanket.

  “He’s hurting.” Catherine touched her hand and stood. Picking up the blanket and the case, she walked past the wide-eyed maid and chauffeur.

  Luke waited until he heard the front door close, then he removed his hand from the other man’s arm. “I’d give considerable thought before pulling that gun out. The woman who was talking to your wife is the daughter of a U.S. Senator. The other woman is Trent’s wife. Her brother would make hell look appealing if you hurt her, that is, if Trent left enough of you for him to bother with. Then there’s me. I happen to care a great deal for all of them. And as they used to say in kindergarten, mine’s bigger and I guarantee I can aim straighter.” He started from the room, saw the distraught Joann and walked back to Albright.

  Luke’s eyes were hard. “For as long as it takes, someone will be keeping an eye on Mrs. Albright. If she has an ‘accident,’ you better find a hole and crawl into it, because I’m coming back and you’ll know what fear is.”

  “Get out,” Albright said, his face red with rage.

  “Remember.” Leaving the house, Luke got in the car.

  “Let’s get back to the airport,” Trent said. “I have the answer to my question.”

  “I love you, Trent,” Dominique said, her voice thick with misery and unshed tears.

  His arm closed tightly around her, turning his lips to her hair and away from the imposing facade of the house. “You’re my salvation.”

  Luke fastened his seat belt and started the motor. “You can go, but I’m staying. She’s afraid.”

  Trent reached for the door handle. Luke hit the automatic lock and pulled away. “I took care of it. She’s safe.”

  “But for how long?” Trent stared at the house through the back window.

  “For as long as it takes.” Luke stopped at the entrance of the gated community behind two other cars. “Somehow, I’ll get a chance to talk to her again and get the answers we need.”

  “That may come sooner than you think,” Catherine told them. “While her husband’s attention was on you, I slipped her one of my cards and told her we were staying at the Four Seasons downtown,” Catherine explained.

  “I knew we were right to bring you. Now all we have to do is wait,” Luke said and drove through the gate onto the street.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE CONNECTING HOTEL SUITES WERE LAVISH. Catherine didn’t comment on the accommodations when they were sh
own to their rooms. If all went well, Joann Albright would show up tonight and if she didn’t, Catherine would deal with it later. Getting another hotel room was out of the question. If Joann did come, Catherine wanted to be there, but first there were a couple of things she had to discuss with Trent.

  “Trent, there is something that I think you need to prepare yourself for.”

  Trent, his arm around Dominique, turned his head from staring out the window across from where they were seated on the couch. “I’m listening.”

  “Albright took one look at you and became enraged,” Catherine said carefully. “You don’t have the coloring or the build of either of the Albrights or Paige. I think you have to prepare yourself for him not being your father.”

  “He’s not.” Trent continued at her look of shock, “I didn’t start this investigation. Luke came to me at the request of someone else. I’m the mirror image of a childless relative who is deceased. It was left up to me whether I wanted to see the family or not.” He blew out a deep breath. “I chose not to. I didn’t want to start thinking of them as family and learn it’s just a case of coincidence.”

  “That’s why we need Mrs. Albright to tell us the name of Trent’s father,” Dominique explained.

  At the knock on the door, everyone froze, then Catherine was up and across the room. Relief and gratitude coursed through her on seeing Mrs. Albright. “Please come in.”

  Silently, the older woman entered, her gaze skirting the room until she located Trent standing and staring at her. She appeared to brace herself before speaking. “If I give you the answers you want, do I have your solemn word to leave and never try to contact me or my family again?”

  “I’ve been unwanted enough in my life not to impose on people who don’t want to see me,” Trent said, his voice tinged with bitterness.

  She flinched. “How did you find me?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, I guess not.” Her grip on her purse tightened. “Do you mind if I sit down?”