Adam Then and Now

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Then the sound of a helicopter beat its way into Adam’s consciousness. Oh, God, they were coming back. He looked up, and in that second Haskett flipped him against the wall and began slowly, steadily, easing him over it.

  Ocean waves seemed to be crashing against Adam’s eardrums. He struggled to maintain his hold on the wall and on the man who wanted to shove him to his death. Haskett pushed his face sideways, so he had to look down the long, shadowed slope of the dam to the concrete below. He wouldn’t land in water, though that would probably kill him just as easily. He’d hit a concrete apron at the very base of the dam and be smashed like a bug on a windshield.

  He strained to regain his balance while his fevered brain kept asking why the helicopter carrying the people he loved was coming back into the danger zone.

  “Since you’re gonna die, anyway,” Haskett said through clenched teeth, “I’ll tell you. It’s Anita.”

  Anita? What was he saying? Then Adam knew. Anita had told Haskett about the pictures. He didn’t know how, but she’d gained the information necessary to betray him. And endanger Daphne. The knowledge charged through his body like a lit fuse, igniting an instinct long buried. The mantle of civilization slipped from his shoulders as he forgot the helicopter overhead. Nothing mattered but survival.

  With a howl of rage, he heaved upward. For one horrible moment, he thought his momentum would carry them both over as they teetered together on the edge of the wall. Then he threw his weight toward the sidewalk, and they toppled against each other in a writhing mass.

  With hell’s fury as his companion, subduing his adversary was almost easy. By the time Josh and Walt rushed over to help, Haskett was facedown on the sidewalk, his arms pinned behind his back. A police car roared up, sirens blaring, and two officers loaded him into the back of a squad car almost before the blades of the small helicopter parked on the road stopped whirling.

  “Daddy!” Daphne hurled herself into his arms. “You’re bleeding!”

  He held her tight and looked around for Loren. When he found her standing next to Josh, he recoiled from the look of agony in her eyes. Her lips moved. Although he couldn’t hear her one-word question, he knew what it was. Why?

  Despair gripped him. In the midst of the agony surrounding the kidnapping, hope had flowered. Hope that she understood the kind of man he was and accepted it. Hope that her understanding had fostered more than trust. Hope that they could face their personal problems with the same sense of partnership they’d used to foil the kidnappers. That hope was gone. They were back to the same question that had ripped them apart twenty-three years ago. Why?

  * * *

  DAPHNE CLUNG to her father for dear life. She was never letting him go. Never. Then she remembered what had happened with Barnaby.

  “Daddy,” she said desperately, looking into his ravaged face, “we have to warn Mom right now. If Barnaby is in with those guys, she could be in danger. We have to warn her.”

  “I’ll have the police contact her, Daphne.” Her father smoothed her hair away from her face the way he used to do when she was a little girl.

  “But we should call her, too. Maybe from here. We can get the number of the resort in Aspen. Maybe she needs police protection, or something.”

  “She’s in Aspen?” her father said. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I talked to her night before last, and I know she’s still there.”

  Her father had a strange look in his eyes. “You called her the night I was in Laughlin?”

  Daphne nodded. “Yeah, I was mad at you, so I called her to whine about it. I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t realize what was going on.”

  “And I’ll bet you told her about Loren and me going to Laughlin to take pictures, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Daphne tried to identify the expression on her father’s face. He’d looked like that when he’d had to tell her that Great-Grandma Riordan, a woman Daphne had adored, had died in her sleep. Fear closed her throat. “Daddy, she’s okay, isn’t she? They didn’t...”

  “I’m sure she’s fine, Daphne.” He held her more tightly. “But you’ll need to give the police the name of that spa in Aspen.”

  “Well, sure. They probably should protect her. I mean, who knows what”

  “No, Daphne. They’ll be arresting her.”

  Daphne stared at him, not quite ready to accept the meaning of the words he’d just spoken.

  “I’m afraid she was in on this, too,” her father said gently. “I’m sure she doesn’t know you were kidnapped. She would never have wanted you hurt. But she knew Haskett was taking the steel.”

  Daphne felt as if spiders were crawling over her skin. “No, no, she didn’t.”

  “It’s pretty clear she did, Daphne. I’m sorry.”

  She pushed away from him. “You’re not! You’re not the least bit sorry. I know who told you this.” She spun around, searching for that hated face. “She told you my mother was in on it, didn’t she?”

  “No,” her father said. “Loren didn’t”

  “She said it just to get my mother out of the way,” Daphne continued, advancing on her mother’s rival standing there so innocently between her beloved son and her beloved father. “My mother’s not even here to defend herself, but I am. I’ll”

  “Cool it,” Josh said, stepping between his mother and Daphne at the same moment Adam laid a firm hand on Daphne’s shoulder.

  “Apologize to Loren, Daphne,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “She risked her life for you.”

  “And be quick about it, young lady,” Walt added.

  She couldn’t believe it. They were all ganging up on her. Her careful plans for how her mother and father would get back together were being ruined by this woman. She wouldn’t apologize in a million years. Not in a trillion years.

  “Daphne.” Her father’s hand settled more heavily on her shoulder.

  “He’s right, Daphne,” Josh said, moving back to put his arm around his mother in a protective gesture. “You had no right saying that about Mom.”

  “Never mind, Adam.” Loren stepped forward and looked Daphne in the eye. “She’s only defending her mother. I don’t blame her for that. Anyone would do the same.”

  Daphne shrank in horror. This was worse. Now Loren was forgiving her. “I hate your guts,” she said, and walked away, away from all of them.

  “Daphne!” her father roared.

  She ignored him. Then she heard another voice. Loren’s voice. “Don’t, Adam,” she said. “Leave her alone.”

  Daphne stood by the wall, tears pouring down her cheeks and spattering the gray surface. She clenched her fists so hard her fingernails stabbed her palms. Her mother hadn’t known a thing about Barnaby’s dealings. Not a thing. But her father was so in lust, he’d believe whatever Loren said. Daphne had never hated anyone as much as she hated Loren Stanfield.

  * * *

  SOMEHOW LOREN GOT through the maze of police procedure that took up the rest of the night. She was grateful, in a way, that all the flurry of activity kept her from having to face Adam alone. She had no idea what to say. Once again he’d foolishly risked his life. Catching the crooks apparently meant more to him than being with her.

  She’d imagined he was beyond taking such chances. She’d even thought that maybe, after this was over, they could reconsider their earlier decision to go their separate ways and try to work things out, instead. She’d imagined they had a chance.

  What a joke! And his daredevil behavior was only half the problem. The other half was Daphne. Even if the girl finally accepted the fact that her mother was guilty, her resentment of Loren for being there to witness her humiliation could last forever. If Anita faced prison, Adam’s commitment to his daughter would become even more critical. And he couldn’t be a devoted father to Daphne with Loren in the picture. Daphne wouldn’t allow it.

  As dawn approached, it was arranged that the police would give Loren, Josh and Walt a ride to Las Vegas where Whiskey Foxtrot was pa
rked. The police had located Josh’s Suburban in Las Vegas and would hold it until someone came to take it home. Adam decided to drive the rental car to Sedona where he and Daphne would pick up the Scorpio plane and return to Phoenix.

  Consequently, Loren, Walt and Josh arrived in Sedona before Adam and Daphne. Walt wanted to wait at the airport for Adam, so Loren talked Josh into taking her home in Walt’s old truck.

  Once there, she fell across her bed, expecting to fall instantly asleep. It didn’t happen. Two hours later, when her father tapped on her door and softly called her name, she told him to come in.

  “He picked up the plane,” Walt said, sitting on the bed beside her. “Took that little bi... that Daphne with him.”

  She didn’t comment.

  “And he asked me to give you a message. He said he’d done a lot of thinking on the drive to Sedona. He wanted me to tell you he’d be back.”

  Loren turned her head and gazed into her father’s sympathetic eyes. “Unfortunately, it’ll be a wasted trip.”

  * * *

  WANTING TO SORT THROUGH his thoughts, Adam had let Daphne sleep on the drive to Sedona and again on the plane ride to Phoenix. She remained silent through the process of putting the plane in the hangar at Sky Harbor and retrieving his Mercedes.

  They left the executive terminal in his Mercedes, and the car’s air conditioner cooled the interior from one hundred and twenty degrees to a civilized seventy-eight. He thought she might apologize for her behavior at last, but she slumped in her seat and stared out the window. They rode that way as he left the center of town and headed north toward Fountain Hills, with his head pounding, the bandage on his nose driving him crazy and Daphne sulking.

  Finally, when he was two miles from the turnoff to his town house, he glanced at her. “Would you like to stay with me temporarily, instead of going back to the house?”

  “No. I’ll just stay at home and wait for Mom.”

  “She won’t be home until after the hearing tomorrow, and that’s only if someone posts bail for her.”

  “You mean you won’t?”

  “No.”

  “Dad!”

  He glanced at her stricken face, but was unmoved. “She conspired with Haskett to defraud me, which was bad enough, but she’s indirectly responsible for nearly getting you killed. Nearly getting us all killed.”

  Daphne slumped farther in her seat. “I suppose by all, you’re including that woman.”

  “Yes.” He held on to his temper with difficulty. “And I suggest you call her by her name. Without her, we might not be having this conversation.”

  “So, are you going to marry her?”

  Adam sighed. “I’m going to see her at least once more, if she’ll agree. She may not, and I can guarantee she has no desire to marry me.” He glanced over and noticed a smug expression stealing over Daphne’s face. “Don’t take too much credit for that. Loren and I have problems that have nothing to do with you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Never mind.”

  She folded her arms and glared at him. “I guess you didn’t really mean it when you said you’d start telling me more stuff.”

  “Don’t try laying a guilt trip on me, Daphne.” He struggled for patience. “I’m not about to give you information about a woman you’ve just insulted, a woman I happen to respect.”

  “I should have figured you’d go back on that promise,” she mumbled, obviously not willing to hear what he’d said. “You never did care about me, anyway.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. Your business was always more important to you than I was.”

  “No, Daphne.” He sensed this might be a critical point with Daphne and tried to ignore the ache in his head. “I wanted to do things with you. But maybe they were the wrong things. Like on your ninth birthday, I’d planned to take you to an air show, but your mother said you didn’t want to go, that you’d rather have a party with your friends.”

  Daphne frowned. “My ninth birthday? Oh, yeah. That was when she took a bunch of us to lunch and then on a shopping spree at the Borgata. But I don’t remember her telling me about an air show. I always wanted to go to one of those.” She eyed him suspiciously. “You could be making that up, just to pretend you were interested in doing stuff with me. Because if Mom told me about that air show, I can’t believe I wouldn’t have picked that over shopping at the Borgata.”

  “Or,” Adam said, voicing a growing suspicion of his own, “maybe your mother didn’t give you the choice.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? She was always wishing you’d pay more attention to me, instead of keeping your nose stuck in your steel business.”

  Adam slowed the Mercedes as they approached a red light. When the car glided to a halt, he gazed at Daphne. “That’s interesting. She was always telling me that my ideas for entertaining you were inappropriate for a young girl and I should stick to what I knew, which was the steel business.”

  Daphne exploded with laughter. “I don’t believe that!” Then her laughter died and she flicked him a glance. “Like what?”

  He searched his memory. The rejections of his attempts at fatherhood stood out like little sore bumps, and he wasn’t eager to touch them again. Daphne would probably agree with Anita’s assessment, anyway. “I remember once thinking you’d like a ride in an eighteen-wheeler, but I suppose you wouldn’t have wanted”

  “I thought you wouldn’t let me.”

  “No, your mother wouldn’t let you. Would you have gone?”

  “Are you crazy? Any little kid loves those big rigs.”

  His suspicions grew even more. “Then there was the time when you were doing so well in math, and I wanted to take you down to the office over the weekend and show you the accounting system on the computer. I thought I might even begin assigning you some little jobs, for a small salary.”

  “Yeah? You wanted me to work for you?”

  “Why not? You’re very smart.”

  “Dad.”

  He glanced away from traffic for a second to look at her.

  “Are you sure you’re not making this up?”

  “That particular one you can check with Donna, our bookkeeper. I remember telling her my idea, and she thought it was great. But your mother said that would be boring for you, and besides, your weekends were too busy with other things.”

  “Like shopping, I guess she meant.”

  “Probably. And I knew how much you liked going out to buy new clothes.”

  “Well, sure, Dad. Most girls like that. But if I’d had a chance to work for you in the office... Why didn’t you ask me yourself?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know much about raising girls. I didn’t have sisters, so I depended on Anita to clue me in.” And in light of what he’d learned in the past twenty-four hours, he’d been far too trusting. “I have a question for you,” he said, bringing up the most painful rejection of all. “Why didn’t you ask me to teach you to fly?”

  “Are you kidding? With all the work you had to do? You’d never have had time to teach me.”

  “I would have made time,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, sure. You say that now, but I remember asking Mom if she thought you’d be able to teach me, and she said” Daphne stopped abruptly.

  “She said I was too busy, right?”

  “Yeah.” Daphne fidgeted with her shoulder harness. “But you were busy, Dad. Admit it. You were down at Scorpio Steel six days a week and sometimes on Sunday. I can see why Mom divorced you. She never saw you.”

  “You’re right.” He swerved into the circular driveway that led to the elegant home overlooking the golf course, a course he’d never played. “Your mother and I didn’t spend much time with each other. Apparently, that made her very angry with me.”

  “Well, duh! Of course it would.”

  “But I never thought she was angry enough to take my daughter away.”

  “Don’t be silly. She didn’t take me away.”

  Adam st
opped the car in front of the entryway and gazed at her. “Didn’t she?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT WAS Georgia’s day off, so Adam didn’t leave the Fountain Hills house until he made sure there was plenty to eat in the refrigerator. Daphne still didn’t believe that her mother had conspired to drive a wedge between father and daughter, but Adam was convinced. He arrived at his town house gritty and exhausted, but he had one call to make before he could shower and sleep.

  The receptionist at the law firm of Flannery and O’Donnell said Mr. Flannery was in conference and couldn’t be disturbed, but when Adam identified himself, she put him through.

  “I was wondering if I’d hear from you,” Flannery said. “She’s going to need money.”

  “I know. And I’m willing to provide some. But in exchange, she’s going to have to do something for me.”

  * * *

  AS WALT TAXIED Whiskey Foxtrot toward the Icarus hangar late the next afternoon, Loren saw a red Mercedes parked beside it and her stomach lurched. The luxurious car in that particular color could belong to only one person.

  “Looks like you have a visitor,” Walt said over his shoulder, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “I didn’t expect him so soon, busy as he is.”

  Loren hadn’t, either. She wasn’t up to this. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? “We’re busy, too,” she said, her heart pounding. “I don’t have time to fool around with him. You know what our schedule looks like, and with the weather so unpredictable, we”

  Walt chuckled. “It’s five-thirty, Loren. Time for dinner. Surely you could spare him an hour while you eat something.”

  She collected the film canisters. “You still think he’s okay, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do.”

  “Dad, the guy has a death wish and the daughter from hell. Why would you want me involved with those kinds of problems?”

  Her father took off his sunglasses and swiveled in his seat. “Because I don’t think you’ve ever been in love with anybody else.”