The dog was instantly on his feet, plumy tail wagging hopefully. Even his expression looked less gloomy. "There's hope for you, Malcolm, my lad." Rob glanced at Lucy. "Anything I should know about him?"
"He's probably six or seven years old, he doesn't bite, and he has an amazing baritone bark that will scare the hair off anyone who might even think of breaking into your house." She bent and scratched the dog's head. Malcolm responded with a friendly slurp of her hand.
Noticing her expression, Rob asked, "Are you sure you want to let him go? You seem to like each other pretty well."
"It's hard not to like a beast that so loves to be fed, but I really don't need the extra work." She straightened. "I'll get his leash and dog food and toys."
Rob pulled out a card. "If you or anyone else in the family want to visit Malcolm, just give me a call."
"Don't hold your breath," she advised, but she was smiling as she went for the dog's paraphernalia. Rob knelt and scratched Malcolm's head again. Sensing that this new person needed buttering up, the dog leaned against his leg affectionately.
It occurred to Rob that only a few weeks before, he had been living as solitary a life as he could manage, deliberately avoiding interaction and possessions. Now he had an amazing girlfriend, a dog, and a commitment to a cause.
Maybe he just wasn't meant to travel light.
∗ ∗ ∗
Val accepted still another hug as she prepared to leave the going-away luncheon Crouse, Resnick had thrown for her at the gorgeous, late-Victorian Engineers' Club. She suspected much of the reason for the lavish event was to demonstrate to the Baltimore legal community that she was leaving with no hard feelings on either side--and to suggest that there would be a continuing relationship between Val and Crouse, Resnick. Whatever. It was a heck of a good party.
Donald Crouse appeared to give her another hug when she was almost at the door. "A good thing this is such a small town, Val--I'll probably see almost as much of you now as when you actually worked down the hall."
She laughed and hugged him back. "Very likely. Thanks for everything, Donald. I've learned a lot from you."
"I invited your father to come down," Donald said, "but he was too busy."
"The story of his life." And Val's as well for too many years. "He's promised to attend the open house I'm holding to celebrate my new firm and my new offices. The invitations just went out. Are you coming?"
"Wouldn't miss it." With a last smile, Donald waved her out the door.
Buoyantly she left the club and headed for her car. A good going-away party was fun and many maudlin comments had been exchanged, but mostly she was delighted to finally be done with her old job. Crouse, Resnick was as good a corporate law firm as she could have found, but her own practice was already more rewarding.
There was no one at her new office since Kendra was visiting Daniel, so Val had to make a fast drive to the church to let her mother inside. Today Callie was installing the soft sculpture hanging she had created, and Val couldn't wait to see it. Her mother hadn't even showed her the drawings, so it was going to be a complete surprise.
Callie and her long-term companion, Loren Goldman, were climbing out of Callie's minivan when Val arrived. Still in a hugging mood, Val embraced her mother, then Loren. "I'm officially a free woman!"
"Enjoy that while it lasts," Loren advised. "Freedom is mostly an illusion."
An oboist for the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Loren had a lugubrious expression belied by the wry sparkle in his gray eyes. Callie had dated widely and sometimes chaotically when Val was young, but she had settled down when she met Loren. Though he had never been a father figure for Val, he was a good surrogate uncle. Lean and lanky, he had a neatly trimmed beard and a graying ponytail that went well with Callie's artsy earth mother style.
Though the two had been hanging out together for a dozen years, they preferred having separate homes because it gave them more elbowroom. Val had never decided whether they were gloriously liberated or merely commitment-phobic, but she had to admit that in some ways they had the perfect arrangement. It would be nice to have a relationship that was so warm and supportive, yet not extremely demanding.
Following her mother to the back of the van, Val said, "I can't wait to see what you've done, Callie."
"Maybe you won't see it. Perhaps we'll hang the tapestry with a sheet over it so there can be a grand unveiling when you have your open house."
"Mo-o-o-o-mmmm!"
Callie grinned. "Don't worry, dear, I was only teasing. I know perfectly well that even if we covered it, you'd be looking as soon as I turned my back. I never could keep Christmas presents hidden from you."
"The unveiling idea isn't a bad one, though," Val said thoughtfully. "I'll cover it up again before the open house so we can have a dramatic moment that will impress everyone so much that you'll be offered lots of new commissions to make up for the fact that you won't let me pay for this."
"How could I let my only daughter pay for a gift honoring her new business? Especially now that you're doing good work, not just grinding down the masses in service of corporate profits." While Val rolled her eyes, Callie opened the rear door of the van so she and Loren could carefully remove the long, fat roll of fabric. "Besides, I have a spy camera hidden in the hanging so I can keep a maternal eye on you."
"I do hope you're kidding." It was always hard to tell with Callie, but Val figured this was more teasing, since her mother had never been the overprotective sort. Usually she'd had sublime faith in Val's ability to cope. It was a mixed blessing.
Inside the building, Callie said, "Go check your e-mail or something. I'll call you when we've finished the installation."
Reluctantly Val headed to her office. She was a big girl, she could stand the suspense of waiting to see what her mother had done.
There turned out to be enough messages that she was surprised when Callie stuck her head in the office. "It's up." She looked excited and a little nervous.
Val followed her into the main sanctuary, then stopped, awed. The tapestry was almost two stories high and hung against a plain wall painted the soft gold that Callie had specified. Silk and velvet and brocades were combined with feathers and leather and other materials to create a whole that was difficult to describe, but utterly stunning.
Val tried to decipher the images, which suggested soaring birds, the scales of justice, and a rising sun. "My God, Callie, it's the best thing you've ever done!"
She crossed the sanctuary and reached up to stroke a soft shape that stood out like a bas-relief.
"You really think so?"
Knowing what was expected of her, Val described in detail everything she loved about the tapestry, ending with, "If this doesn't get you more work, I will wash my hands of the Baltimore business community."
"It did come out rather well." Callie regarded her work with pride. "This is the beginning of a new direction for me, I think." With her height, exuberance, and roan-red hair, she was every inch an artist. That identity was more central to her than motherhood had ever been, Val suspected.
The door opened, and a familiar voice said, "Good God1 That's amazing."
Val turned to Rob, who was followed by a long, low hound with a solid chassis and an aura of zen-like calm. Malcolm, no doubt. Since he promptly flopped under Kendra's desk, Val crossed to join Rob.
How would Callie react to him? She would certainly notice that he was handsome. Though the mountain man look was gone, his sun-streaked hair was still a little on the long side, which reinforced a faintly maverick air. This was a man who could be management or consultant, but never an underling.
Figuring she might as well make the relationship clear to Callie, Val rose on her toes to kiss Rob. He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, and she almost forgot to pull away. Later. "My mother just installed the hanging. Isn't she an incredible artist?"
"She certainly is. Are you going to have the hanging photographed and prints made, Ms. Covington? I know some people who m
ight be interested in this sort of work if they see a sample of what you can do."
Given his entrepreneurial past, he probably did know such people. As Val performed the introductions, Callie studied Rob with some skepticism. She probably would have accepted him without reservations if he still had the beard, but in a navy blazer and khakis, he looked perhaps too respectable for her tastes.
Deciding that business was business, Callie said, "Thanks for the thought. Loren is doing a website for me. In a couple of weeks it will be online and include pictures of this and some of my other work. Val will let you know when it goes live."
He nodded, then shook hands with Loren. After a brief exchange of small talk, Callie and Loren left to join friends for dinner, so Val was free to meet Malcolm. "What excellent manners. This is a dog in a million." She knelt to scratch his neck. He moaned softly. "In fact, I'm willing to bet there isn't another dog like this anywhere."
Rob grinned. "That's a bet I won't take, but he's a good- natured fellow. I'll take some pictures of him and drop them off with Joe Cady. His sister, Lucy, is a nice lady. She says she wouldn't have dumped Malcolm, but she was happy for me to adopt him. Tonight she's going to round up another sister and visit Joe."
"I'm glad he'll have company. What a wonderful day this has been." Val stretched out her arms and spun in a circle, wanting to soar. "Everything is going so well it's almost scary, Rob. My new office is off to a great start, we're making progress on saving Daniel, tomorrow Lyssie and I are going to have our first get-together"--she spun breathlessly into Rob's arms--"and there's you. How lucky can I get?"
In his eyes, she could see the same exhilaration she was feeling. He gave her an exaggerated leer. "If you like, you could get really lucky right now."
One passion led to another, and the emotions of the day flared into pure lust. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him again, murmuring, "My mother claimed to have installed a spy camera in the hanging. Shall we see if we can shock her?"
"I doubt your mother is easily shocked." Laughing, Rob dropped onto the carpet and pulled Val down beside him. "But we can try."
She slid her hands under his polo shirt, stroking his chest while she rubbed her face against his throat in an attempt to absorb his essence into her. A distant part of her wondered if such good luck couldn't last. But that was mere superstition. She had wanted to change her life and she had.
Nothin' but good times ahead...
Chapter 21
Sprawling on the sofa in her most comfortable sweats, Kendra glanced up in surprise when a key grated in her front door. Four people had keys to her house, and she wasn't expecting any of them.
The door swung open, and her son entered. "Jason!" She dropped her magazine and flew across the living room to engulf her son in a hug. "I didn't think you'd be home until the weekend. It's been way too long since you've had leave." She stepped back, her hands on his shoulders. "You look so gorgeous I can hardly believe we're related."
That wasn't just motherly love, either. Six-foot-plus like his daddy, broad-shouldered and with an athlete's fitness, her boy would be a hunk anywhere. In his air force cadet's uniform, he was to die for. Lovingly she touched his uniform insignia. "I've been waiting to see this. The star for academic excellence, the wreath for military leadership, a thunderbolt for being an outstanding athlete. You rock, boy. We better get you into civilian clothes before girls start beating the door down."
Unsmiling, he set down his duffle bag. "I asked if I could start my vacation a couple of days early because of family reasons and was lucky enough to hitch a ride to Andrews Air Force Base."
"Family reasons?" Kendra began to feel tense. It wasn't like her laughing son to look grim. "Is something wrong? Has some old girlfriend claimed you knocked her up?"
He took her arm and led her from the hall back to the living room. He was unnervingly adult. The words "an officer and a gentleman" flashed through her mind. "You're making me nervous, Jay."
"You might want to sit down."
Reminding herself that he was obviously hale and hearty so the worst hadn't happened, she did as he suggested and sat on the sofa again, though this time she wasn't relaxed. He stood with his hands locked behind his back, a hammering pulse in his throat proof that he was less calm than he looked. "Okay, Jay, level with me. What's wrong?"
He caught her gaze, seething anger and hurt in his eyes. "Why did I have to find out who my real father is from a classmate?"
She gasped, feeling her blood drain away. "What are you saying?"
"It's a small world. One of my classmates, Cass Murphy, is from Baltimore, so of course we know each other. She stopped by my room last night and said that her Uncle Cal had defended my father, Daniel Monroe, when he was tried for murder. Because she's a nice girl, she offered her condolences on the fact that he's going to be executed in a few weeks."
So after Val talked to the public defender, Murphy must have e-mailed his niece about the coincidence. This was the result.
As Kendra tried to decide what to say, Jason said sharply, "Don't even think about lying to me! I did a web search on the case, so I know the details, I know what Monroe looks like. At the time he was convicted of murder, he looked just like me." The skin tightened across his cheekbones. "How could you let me grow up not knowing that...that my real father is a murderer?"
Kendra dropped her head into her hands, temples throbbing. When in doubt, tell the truth. Looking up, she said, "I didn't tell you because Daniel didn't want you to know. He thought that even though he's innocent, it would be too hard for you to grow up with the knowledge that your father was a convicted murderer. He and I have argued about it. I could sort of see his point when you were younger, but the older you got, the more it bothered me that you didn't know the truth."
"Did Philip Brooks know he wasn't my real father, or did you lie to him, too?"
"Of course he knew! You were almost four when Phil and I married. And don't you dare say Phil wasn't your real father. He adopted you and raised you and loved you. You were his pride and joy, and you know it."
"So if Phil was my real father, what does that make Daniel Monroe? A sperm donor? What a great set of genes I've inherited." His face twisted. "Naturally he's innocent. Isn't every man on death row?"
Kendra bit back a surge of anger. He might look full-grown, but he was only nineteen. "You have every right to be upset, but don't push it. You have two fathers, both of them fine men. Daniel was a little wild as a kid but he had straightened himself out. We were planning our wedding when he was arrested. You asked, now you sit down and listen to the answer."
He wavered, looking suddenly very tired. Realizing that he'd endured a long, tormented day since Cass Murphy had unwittingly broken the news, Kendra stood and put an arm around his shoulders. "You must be hungry. How does fresh lemonade and sliced ham and potato salad sound?"
"That would be good. I didn't get much sleep last night." His voice sounded very young. "Mama, how could I not know something so basic about myself for so long? My father could have died, and I never would have known."
She guided him to the kitchen, wishing she had obeyed her instincts and overruled Daniel's wishes. "Though Daniel is pessimistic, we may be on the verge of getting his sentence commuted. If not..." She swallowed hard. "For years I've asked myself how I could justify it to you if he was executed before you found out."
"No way could you justify that," he said vehemently.
"I was afraid of that." She shook her head. "Hiding the truth is hard work. Just a couple of days ago I saw Daniel's half brother Luke. He resents that you've been kept away from that side of your family."
"I've got more relatives I don't know about?" Jason's startled expression showed that he hadn't thought of that.
"Quite a few of them around Baltimore, and they're mostly pretty nice. With Phil's family all down in Mississippi, you never had enough cousins. You'll have about ten days leave, won't you? I can throw a Monroe family cook- out for you if you
like. One of your Monroe cousins is at the Naval Academy. You'd have a lot in common."
He ran his hand over his militarily short hair. "I don't know about a party. Maybe. I'll think about it later when I know who the hell I am."
They reached the kitchen and Jason took his usual chair while she poured lemonade for both of them, then sliced ham and set out potato salad and pickles for her son. She waited until he'd consumed a sizable amount of food before asking, "Ready for the whole story?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." His gaze was level. "Is he really innocent?"
She met his gaze. "As God is my witness, Daniel was wrongly convicted. I know that for a fact because I was with him when the murder took place, but the prosecutors and jury didn't believe me. We've only just learned that two of the three eyewitnesses lied to protect their drug dealer."
"And the third?"
"Made a mistake. That happens a lot, especially when the light's poor and something awful is happening."
Jason exhaled, some of the tension going out of him. "So my father was convicted because they needed to nail someone, and he was black and the right size and general location."
"That's about the size of it. A lousy, rotten twist of fate that changed all our lives." She went through the familiar story crisply, answering any questions that Jason asked along the way.
When she was done, Jason said, "I want to meet him."
"It's time." She rested her hand on her son's. "Prison isn't easy, Jay. Daniel has had to be tough to survive, but he's a good man who has learned a lot of wisdom the hard way. Give him a chance, and remember that he concealed the truth for your sake. Can you say it wouldn't have made your life more difficult when you were growing up?"
Jason glanced away. "No, I can't. But easy isn't always better."
"You're right," she agreed, "but when you have kids, every instinct is to protect them even if that's not always the best choice. At the beginning, I was so wounded by the trial and his conviction that I wanted to bury the whole awful subject. Thinking about it hurt."
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