by Kate James
Appearing a bit self-conscious, Daniel initiated a good-bye hug with Charlotte and accepted her kiss on his cheek.
*
THE MOMENT THEY were in the car, Paige fastened her seat belt, leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes.
Daniel thought of Charlotte’s whispered words as she’d kissed him good-bye. Take care of my little girl, will you? She may not admit it, but she needs you.
Daniel felt his heart twist. Paige looked so sad, so forlorn. Something was clearly wrong.
He raised his hand. Not knowing what he’d intended to do, he withdrew it without touching her. He glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure Jason had his seat belt on, then started the engine. He couldn’t ask her what was wrong with Jason in the backseat, so they drove to Camden Falls in silence.
“Would you like me to come in?” he asked as he pulled into the driveway of her building.
Her eyes were apologetic. “Is it okay if you don’t? Jason’s had a long day, and I’d like to get him into bed.”
“Aw, Mom!” Jason complained from the backseat. “I’m not that tired.”
“Don’t sweat it, pal.” Daniel reached back and pulled the bill of Jason’s Patriots cap over his eyes. “I’ll see you guys again in a couple of days.”
By the time Daniel had hopped out of the car, Paige had already climbed out and was holding the seat forward for Jason.
Daniel drew Paige into a hug, and she wound her arms around his waist and held tight. He stepped back and, his voice low, asked, “Would you like to discuss it later?” He could see her distress, but she shook her head. He brushed his lips lightly across hers, but disappointment left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Daniel bent down to give Jason a hug. He waited until Paige and Jason were inside the building before he slid back into his car and drove away. He couldn’t get the wounded look in Paige’s eyes out of his mind. It couldn’t have anything to do with Jason. Her father, maybe? Whatever the reason for her distress, Daniel cared. Didn’t she realize that?
How was he supposed to help her if he had no idea what was going on? When was she going to trust him and understand that he wanted to help?
Daniel’s concern turned into frustration, and he fumed about it for the whole drive home. Why did she have to be so stubborn?
At home, he tossed his coat over the back of a chair instead of hanging it up, and grabbed his iPhone. He did a directory search. When he found the number he was looking for, he punched it in.
“Charlotte?” he inquired when a woman’s voice answered.
“Yes?”
“It’s Daniel Kinsley.”
“Oh, Daniel. Is everything all right?” She sounded anxious, and he realized belatedly that of course her first thought would be that they’d been in an accident on the drive home.
“Yes, everything’s fine. Paige and Jason are home safe, but I need your help.”
“My help?”
“Yes. I’d like to know what happened today.”
“What do you mean?”
“Paige was obviously upset when we left. It had to do with something you two talked about while Jason and I were outside. Can you tell me what it is?”
“Paige didn’t tell you?” There was hesitancy in Charlotte’s voice.
Daniel considered making excuses about Jason’s being with them, but he couldn’t lie. “No, she didn’t. Look, I’m worried about her, and I’d like to help if I can.”
There was a pause.
He was almost certain the problem, whatever it was, had nothing to do with Jason. Still, he wanted confirmation.
“I might as well tell you. It concerns Stephen, and you’ll find out sooner or later anyway.”
Daniel had begun to suspect this, so he wasn’t surprised. While Charlotte explained the situation to him, he fixed himself a drink. He sat on a kitchen chair, his elbow resting on the table, his forehead in his hand, as he listened to her. No wonder Paige was so distraught. He couldn’t imagine having to make a decision like that about one of his parents.
“Have you considered home care?”
He heard a huge sigh. “Oh, yes. Believe me, I looked into it. It would’ve been my first choice. But to get someone with the right qualifications...it’s not possible. The cost would be too high. We just can’t afford it.”
Daniel would’ve expected a nursing home to be as expensive, if not more so, but Charlotte explained the funding structure and their retirement benefits. She said that if Stephen lived in a nursing home, she’d sell their house, freeing up capital.
Daniel thought of the warm, tranquil house into which Charlotte and Stephen had welcomed him. He remembered all the charming touches she’d so lovingly added, and how contented and settled Stephen seemed there. He pictured Stephen sleeping in his big chair in the den, a small smile on his lips, his hands linked over his stomach. There’d been a fire in the hearth, and the little sheltie had lain at his feet, snoring softly. Daniel had concluded that, despite his illness, Stephen was happy and comfortable.
He drummed his fingers on the table. This must be tearing Charlotte apart. Paige, too. He wanted to help, but even though he’d just met Charlotte, he guessed she’d probably be as stubborn as her daughter. He thanked her for trusting him with the information and assured her again that he’d do whatever he could for Paige.
Maybe there was something he could do. He finished his drink, checked the time and went to his office to do a bit of research on his laptop.
Deciding on the company he was interested in, he looked up the name and number of its CEO, Dr. Margaret Winter. Knowing she wouldn’t be in on a Sunday, he left a message, asking her to call him at his office the next day.
The call came in around noon.
“Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, Dr. Winter.”
“No problem. I don’t know what your call’s about, so I’d appreciate your enlightening me.”
Her voice sounded defensive and distant. He wondered if he’d made a mistake selecting her organization, despite the Oakridge Seniors’ Center’s excellent credentials and references. He’d expected the CEO to be friendly, compassionate. His voice cooled in response. “Certainly. I’d like to find out about your services.”
“Our services?” He heard a soft chuckle, and a distinct change in her tone. “I’m sorry. When I got the message that you were calling from a law firm...I may have misinterpreted.”
“My call has nothing to do with my practice. I should’ve made that clear. It’s a personal matter. I want to talk to you about somebody who could benefit from your home care services.”
An hour later, Daniel felt he had found the right company. He also understood why Dr. Winter—or Margaret, as she insisted he call her—had been apprehensive about being contacted by a law firm. The Oakridge Seniors’ Center was experiencing some short-term cash flow issues due to a bad debt they’d incurred. She’d worried that, committed though they’d always been to their suppliers through good times and bad, their slower-than-normal payments had caused one of their suppliers to follow through on threatened legal action.
The issue that remained was how Charlotte would be able to afford the extra cost of home care for Stephen. Then—as Daniel thought about the organization’s financial dilemma—an idea occurred to him. He made another call to Margaret Winter. Now he just had to find a way to execute his plan without letting Charlotte or Paige know he was involved.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHELSEA SET HER laundry basket on top of a washing machine when she saw Mr. Weatherly in the laundry room. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered urgently. “I tried your apartment, but there was no answer. I need to speak with you. I think I discovered something.” She glanced around the laundry room, empty expect for them, and went to close the door. She returned to where Mr. Weatherly was folding his clothes and hopped up to sit on the low counter. “I can’t believe this. You’re not going to believe this.” She threw her hands up. “Oh, my gosh! What are we going to
do?”
“Well, it’s rather difficult for me to say, not having the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
Chelsea squirmed a bit. “Oh, right. I did another online search. I came up with the usual information for Daniel Kinsley in Hartford, where he lives. You know, telephone directory, LinkedIn, that sort of thing. But as you suggested, I dug deeper. I found an online article from a community paper in Hartford about a Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Kinsley attending a charitable event and making a sizable donation.”
Mr. Weatherly straightened. Shock was evident on his face. “He’s married?”
Chelsea nodded slowly. “Looks like it. How horrible for Paige and Jason. As cautious as she was at first, Paige has really fallen for him.”
“Are you positive it’s him? Could it be a relative? His father maybe?”
“I’m afraid it’s him. His parents live in Newport, Rhode Island. The article was about what it called ‘Hartford’s elite.’ I checked the local directory, and there’s only one Daniel Kinsley. Besides, how many rich Daniel Kinsleys can there be in Hartford?”
“This is terrible! I didn’t really expect to find anything when I suggested we look into him. It was just...an abundance of caution, to make sure our Paige wouldn’t get hurt.” Mr. Weatherly spread his hands. “Now look at the mess we’re in.”
“That, that...goat!” Chelsea said vehemently. “How do we tell Paige?”
Mr. Weatherly lifted his newsboy cap and scratched his head. “I don’t know. Any way we do it, it’s going to hurt her. Just what I wanted to avoid. Poor little Jason.”
Chelsea pushed off the countertop. “Let’s talk to Mrs. Bennett. She may have an idea.”
*
MRS. BENNETT MADE loud tsking noises. “How could you interfere with Paige’s personal life like that?”
“We didn’t interfere,” Chelsea insisted. “We just wanted to make sure she and Jason wouldn’t get hurt.”
“And is your mission accomplished?”
They shook their heads in unison.
“Exactly the opposite, I’d say.” Her voice held a note of censure.
“But he’s married!”
“Hush,” she scolded Chelsea, then turned to Mr. Weatherly. “I would’ve expected better of you, Harrison.”
A flush rose to his cheeks. “I just wanted to protect her. The same as you.”
“That may be, but I don’t follow people around and do computer searches on them.”
“But what do we do now?”
“Nothing.”
They both gaped at her. Chelsea found her voice first. “What do you mean, nothing?”
“I don’t believe for a second that Paige’s Daniel is married. Keep your day jobs, you two—you’ll never make detectives. You really should have more faith in people. And if not in people overall, look at how good Daniel’s been for both Paige and Jason. Can you honestly believe that same man would have a wife and be cheating on her?”
Neither responded, but Chelsea felt more than a little embarrassed.
“Harrison, I’m surprised at you. By your own admission, you don’t know Daniel. Why wouldn’t you have taken the time to get to know him a little?”
Again, neither Mr. Weatherly nor Chelsea had a word to say.
“Hmm. I think it’s time we all got to know Daniel better—and not because I give any credence to your suspicions. So, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to host a dinner for all of us. Daniel will be our guest of honor. And the two of you,” she said, wagging a finger at them, “are going to help me.”
*
A FEW DAYS LATER, Chelsea sat in front of her laptop. Mr. Weatherly was hunched behind her. They both peered intently at the screen. Despite Mrs. Bennett’s admonitions, Mr. Weatherly wanted to finish what they’d started. It didn’t sit right with him, not knowing for certain about Daniel’s marital status.
“Come on, come on,” Chelsea implored as her emails downloaded. She glanced over her shoulder. “Mrs. Bennett will skin us alive if she finds out we’re doing this.”
Mr. Weatherly straightened, then adjusted his vest. “In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. We’ve come this far. We might as well satisfy ourselves if we can. What is it you said you’re waiting for?”
“I reached out to the editor of the community paper that ran the article. She told me they didn’t print any pictures of the charitable event, but they had some on file. She’s sending me one of Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley.”
“Just like that?”
“I did get a little creative. I might’ve implied that there was an, um, interest in possibly recognizing them. You know, like an award.” Chelsea glanced up, a grin on her face. “I didn’t exactly lie. That is our interest. Recognizing them—just not in the way she would’ve assumed.” Chelsea clicked on refresh again and did a fist pump. “Here it is!”
Mr. Weatherly leaned forward. “Well, let’s see it.”
With a couple of clicks, she opened the file. They both held their breath until the image appeared on the screen.
“Well,” Mr. Weatherly declared.
“I guess we have our answer now,” Chelsea added.
“Should we let Mrs. Bennett know?”
“Are you kidding?” But as Chelsea rose, she hugged Mr. Weatherly, who staggered back. “Boy, aren’t we lucky we didn’t say anything to Paige?”
Mr. Weatherly stepped back and brushed nonexistent lint off his vest. “Yes, indeed.”
Chelsea took another look at the picture on her computer screen. “Who do you suppose that Mr. Daniel Kinsley is?”
“It doesn’t matter, now that we know it’s not Paige’s Daniel Kinsley.”
Chelsea shrugged. “There’s no other Daniel Kinsley listed in the area.” She studied the photograph again. “But they look old enough to be his parents.” She studied the photograph closely. “The comment about Hartford’s elite could’ve been a generalization. Especially if they used to live there.”
Mr. Weatherly stroked his chin as he scrutinized the picture. “That may be, but it doesn’t matter to us.”
“I’m just wondering...”
*
ALTHOUGH MOST OF Paige’s neighbors had already met Daniel at one time or another, Paige was touched that Mrs. Bennett wanted to host a dinner for all of them. Mrs. Bennett said she wanted something celebratory to say good-bye to winter, but also to give some of the most important people in her life an opportunity to get together and, in Daniel’s case, get to know each other.
They were all gathered around Mrs. Bennett’s large dining table with Mr. and Mrs. Bennett at either end. Chelsea was seated next to Daniel. Paige could’ve sworn that Chelsea had maneuvered the seating arrangements to put herself in that particular spot.
“Sooooo, Daniel,” Chelsea began, obviously trying to get his attention.
Daniel was talking to Jason about the chances of the New England Patriots making it to the Super Bowl the following year, but he turned to Chelsea. “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
Chelsea lifted her glass of apple juice. “I’m just curious. Have you always lived in Hartford?”
“No, not as a child.” He was about to turn back to Jason, when she spoke again.
“But you’ve lived there for quite some time?”
“Yes. Since my partners and I established our law practice.”
“And your family? Do they visit often?”
“They’re in Newport. They come here occasionally, but I usually visit them.”
Sitting across from Chelsea, Paige was on the verge of giving her a kick under the table. She could see that Daniel was getting impatient with this line of questioning. Chelsea should’ve known by now that Daniel was a private person and not keen on talking about his family.
Yet she persisted. “How do they feel about supporting charities?”
Before Daniel could respond, Paige had had enough and interjected, “Chelsea, can you come and help me in the kitchen, please?”
“Sure. In a min
ute.”
“No. Now.”
“Oh, okay.” She flashed Daniel a smile and followed Paige into the next room.
*
THE MOMENT THEY were inside the kitchen and out of hearing range, Paige demanded, “What was that all about?”
“Just trying to make friendly conversation,” Chelsea muttered.
“Chels, I know you better than that. And you know Daniel doesn’t like to talk about his family.”
She broke eye contact. “Yes, I do.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Oh, like I said, just making conversation.”
Paige glared at her friend.
Chelsea gave up. “Okay, okay. A Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley attended a big-deal charitable event in Hartford recently. I wondered if they were his parents.”
“How would you even know about a charitable event in Hartford—and that a Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley attended?”
“Oh, well...” Chelsea glanced toward the doorway, wishing her partner in crime, Mr. Weatherly, would miraculously appear. After all, the whole sleuthing thing was his idea to begin with. But no Mr. Weatherly. No white knight appeared in the doorway, either, and she’d backed herself into a corner. With her head lowered, she looked up at Paige through her eyelashes. “Because I searched the internet.”
“And you just happened on a Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley at a charitable event?”
“Um, no. Not exactly.”
“Then what?” Paige asked, tight-lipped, stirring the pasta sauce.
Chelsea sucked in a breath. “I was looking for them.”
The serving spoon clattered in the pan as Paige turned around. “You were looking for a Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley? Why?”
Chelsea glanced at the doorway again, willing Mr. Weatherly to come to her rescue. “Oh, heck.” In the absence of any assistance, Chelsea relayed the whole story.
“Chels, seriously? What were you thinking? I don’t know if I should yell at you for interfering or hug you for caring so much.” She went with the latter. “But don’t ever think of doing anything like that again, or I will yell at you.”