She steeled herself. She recalled the frosty look on Max’s face yesterday. She wasn’t sure she could take it now.
It’s for Mom.
She shook her head at Chris as he started for the door. Instead, she went to it herself. Opened it.
He stood tall and lean and handsome and … grim.
Her heart sank. Even through the chill yesterday, or was it the day before, she thought she’d made the smallest impact. But looking at his face now, she knew she hadn’t.
He was an enemy.
16
Max knocked at the door of the cottage-style brick home. It looked small, but was obviously well maintained. A streetlight revealed a multitude of rosebushes surrounding the porch.
He was still stunned by the phone call. Stunned and apprehensive. He wanted to think his conversation Saturday with Leigh had nothing to do with this. Yet something nagged at him. She’d been reckless in the past. Her college days had been tumultuous. She drank too much. She experimented with drugs, and she’d certainly had a tendency to pick guys more interested in her fortune than herself.
Kira Douglas opened the door. Her cheeks were smudged, and her eyes tired and sad. The look struck straight into his heart. Then she seemed to regain strength as she regarded him warily.
He had to work at maintaining his lawyer face. He had a compelling need to hug her and tell her everything would be all right.
He couldn’t do that. For a number of reasons, he couldn’t do that. Most of all his loyalty to Ed, and his own integrity as an attorney. He was the opposition. His duty was to his client. And he wasn’t sure everything would be all right.
He stepped inside without an invitation and looked around. His eyes roamed around the slashed painting and furniture. There was a fury here that went beyond what he’d expected. It made him ill.
Then he saw the man standing in the shadows.
The man stepped forward. “I’m Chris Burke,” he said. “I’m a private investigator.”
“Ms. Douglas mentioned you,” Max said. “A former member of the police department, I understand. A captain.”
“You’ve done some research.”
“Your client tossed a bomb in my client’s lap.” Max studied Burke. Mid to late forties. Early to be retired from a fast-track career. He was a tall man, taller than his own six foot two height. Big as well. Not fat, but big boned.
Max’s gaze turned back to Kira. “What happened?” he said.
Burke answered instead. “A few hours earlier someone tried to tumble her from a MARTA station platform onto the tracks just as a train was coming.”
Shock stilled Max. A burglary could be random. Even one this vicious. But an attack on Kira’s life hours earlier? As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t escape the very real possibility that it had something to do with Kira’s revelation.
His anger at the way she’d approached Leigh faded as he looked at her. Her dark hair looked mussed and she wore no makeup. She looked vulnerable and pale, and yet she had the light of battle in her eyes.
“Tell me everything,” he said. “From the beginning.”
“I took MARTA to work this morning. There’s a station not far from here, and parking downtown is always a problem.” She paused, and he knew she was remembering every step. “I left work around seven. I just missed a train and was waiting for another. There were just a few people there. I heard the train coming.”
Her hands balled into fists, and he saw fear—no, terror—in her eyes as she obviously relived those seconds on the platform. He wanted to kill someone at that moment.
She stopped, then started again, her words coming in spurts. “I felt more than saw someone coming close to me, then he plowed into me, his hands … I’m not sure whether he stumbled and grabbed me or intentionally pushed me, but I fell toward the track. I tried to grab something … There was nothing there. Then someone caught my hand and pulled me away from the tracks. It was all so quick I didn’t really get a look at the person who ran into me.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I thought it was just an accident. So did the man who helped me. I thought that until … I got back from the hospital and found the apartment in shambles.”
“When was that?”
“Early this morning. The hospital called last night and said a kidney had been located. I was there for a number of hours.”
He looked startled. “She had a transplant, then?”
“No. The kidney was deficient.” The defeat in her eyes was palpable.
“I’m sorry,” he replied.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me who did this.”
“I wish I knew.” He couldn’t say the MARTA incident and burglary didn’t have anything to do with her claim. Not yet. But he sure as hell intended to find out.
He noticed the bandage around her arm. “Did that come from the MARTA station?”
She nodded.
He dug his fingers in his pocket. He wanted to punch someone. He hoped to hell that Leigh hadn’t had anything to do with this. He couldn’t believe she did. Fifteen years ago, maybe. Today, no.
He turned to the man standing behind Kira. “Burke?”
“Yes.”
“You used to be a cop. What do you think?”
Burke shrugged. “I learned never to think anything until I know more facts. I look at who has motive. Opportunity.”
“You think it’s connected to Ms. Douglas’s theory.”
“It’s a possibility that can’t be ignored.”
“You’ve called the police?”
“Of course,” Burke said. “They took fingerprints.” His tone was even, but the words were a warning.
“On a burglary?”
Burke shrugged. “You think this is an ordinary burglary?”
“Did you say anything about …”
“Leigh Howard?” Burke replied. “No. Not yet. We probably should have, but Ms. Douglas doesn’t want the publicity that would result. At least not now.”
Max heard the threat in his voice. He didn’t like it. But then, he didn’t like what had happened here, either.
“Did you talk to her about the DNA test?” Kira asked.
“I did.”
“And …”
“She needs time to absorb this. Right now, she doesn’t believe Ms. Douglas. I’m sure Ms. Douglas believes it, but …”
Kira started to say something, but Chris interrupted. “A blood test will determine the truth,” he said. “What are you—and Ms. Howard—afraid of?”
“Leigh doesn’t believe it, and therefore feels that it’s unnecessary,” Max said, his eyes neutral.
Kira’s eyes sparked. Color came back into her face.
“Why did you come here, then?” she demanded. “To make sure I wasn’t lying about the burglary? About the MARTA attack?”
“I didn’t think you were,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Now you’ve seen for yourself. You can leave. I’ll retain an attorney tomorrow and force a DNA test.”
“Give Leigh a little more time.”
“I don’t have time. My mother—her mother—doesn’t have the time.”
“She doesn’t accept that. How long did it take you to believe it? More than a day or two, I expect.”
The arrow hit home.
But she stiffened. “Then you admit it’s a possibility.”
“Anything’s possible. Just not very likely, and after the way you … obtained her DNA sample, she isn’t inclined to trust you.”
“And you didn’t help?”
“I presented her with options.” The words were pompous and self-righteous, and he realized it the second they left his mouth. He was finding it more and more difficult to be Leigh’s advocate. What if she was involved in some way here?
“I thought attorneys were all about the truth,” she said in a strained voice.
“Leigh wouldn’t …”
“You can tell her I survived. You c
an tell her someone did a damned good job of destroying everything my mother collected over the years. You can also tell her I don’t scare easily.”
Sparks darted from tired eyes, and tension filled the air. But it wasn’t the sexual attraction that had so surprised him days ago. This came from anger and frustration, even remnants of this afternoon’s terror. Her lips quivered ever so slightly, and he had the damndest urge to take her in his arms. To hold her close.
He took a step toward her, but Burke blocked him. “I think you should go.”
Max didn’t move. He didn’t want to leave like this. Contempt was in her eyes. He tried not to remember the softness from several days ago. “If I can do anything …”
“You know what you can do,” she said. “The right thing.”
“The ‘right thing’ isn’t quite that black and white.” He wanted to explain. He wanted her to understand what she was asking. “Leigh was in an accident when she was six. Her mother and father were killed. She almost died. She was in the car with their bodies an hour before anyone found them, and then she went though a number of operations without either of them there, without anyone who cared. She still has nightmares. She won’t go to a hospital, not even when she’s hurt. Then you tell her she’s not a Westerfield and, by the way, you want a kidney. You throw all this at her and want an answer in a day. You’re threatening everything she knows. Everything she is. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
He knew he wasn’t being diplomatic. He knew he wasn’t helping anything. But he had to make Kira understand what she was asking. “I’m damned sorry for what happened, but I don’t believe Leigh had anything to do with it. And accusations right now won’t help your cause.”
He stopped. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Both Burke and Kira eyed him with suspicion he couldn’t allay. Not now. The best thing he could do was leave, let her get some rest.
“You won’t be alone tonight?”
“I’m staying,” Burke said.
A sharp jolt of jealousy stabbed him with unexpected ferocity. The power of it stunned him.
He nodded and left before he did, or said, something he would regret.
“Go to bed,” Chris told her as the door closed.
She looked at him. “What do you think?”
“It fits with what I learned about Leigh Howard.” He hesitated, then said cautiously, “He was right about throwing all this at her and expecting an answer. I know how painful it was for you. How you fought it. Demanded another test.”
She sighed. “I know,” she said. “I’ve handled it all very badly. I just thought …”
He put an arm around her shoulders. Why didn’t he make her quake inside like Max Payton did?
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you put a bed together. There must be complete sheets somewhere.”
He was right. The burglar hadn’t reached the linen closet. Together, they remade the bed and gathered the torn sheets that had been there.
“What about you?” she asked as they finished.
“I’ll take the chair. It’s not long before dawn and it sure as hell won’t be the first time I’ve slept in a chair or in a car.” He paused. “Maybe you should take the day off tomorrow.”
“I’ve already taken off too much time. An hour of sleep will work.”
“I’ll have new and better locks installed tomorrow, along with a damned good alarm system.”
“I can’t afford …”
“A friend owes me.”
“But …”
He put a finger to her mouth. “Don’t argue. Remember what I said earlier.”
She gave him a rueful grin. “Yes, sir.”
He started out the door of her bedroom. “You have insurance?”
“Mom does.”
“Good.” He hesitated, then said, “I’d like to talk to Leigh Howard. I know about losing someone. Maybe I can help.”
She nodded, and he left the room, closing the door behind him. She took off her jeans and shirt and crawled between the covers.
Defeat weighed heavily on her. She’d pushed too hard tonight.
What now? Time was slipping away like sand in an hourglass.
Why had she ever thought Max Payton had a heart? Why had she held hope? His voice tonight had been so darn neutral. His eyes so masked.
Well, if he wanted a battle, she would give him one. If Leigh Howard held her wealth and position in so much regard, perhaps the threat of taking it away would help.
17
Lights were on in the Westerfield house when Max drove through the gate. He thought about going over, but it was just past 5:00 a.m. Leigh often slept with lights on. She didn’t like the dark.
He drove past the house and parked in front of his own. He sat there for a moment, fighting emotions. He hadn’t had to do that in a long time. He guarded his heart well. Emotions only brought pain.
Now he was buffeted by them, pulled in two different directions.
In those few hours at dinner a few days ago, he’d found himself attracted to Kira Douglas. In fact, he’d really liked her. He still did, despite her duplicity. He understood it now, and he wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t have done the same. He’d done a hell of a lot worse in the name of love. He told himself he’d been right tonight, that his responsibility was to Leigh. But he couldn’t get Kira’s face out of his thoughts. Nor that of a dying woman.
He parked his car and went inside to his study. His study. His house. As a kid, he’d never thought to have anything quite so grand. He was damned lucky he’d even survived childhood.
Ed had made this all possible. He’d made him a part of the family, and his position in the family was solidified when Ed gave him the house built for Leigh’s parents. After they died, Leigh had moved into the big house, and this one had been empty for years.
Although Ed had explained to the family that he wanted his attorney close by, they all knew that it was more than that. As Ed got older, he mourned not having sons and had tried to mold Max into one.
And now Max owed him more than he could ever repay. He certainly owed his granddaughter loyalty. But which granddaughter, if tests proved Kira right?
He sat and toyed with a pen on the desk as he tried to reason out a puzzle. He had to believe Kira now. She really had no reason to press for a DNA test unless she already knew the results. That meant accepting the supposition that the babies had somehow been switched.
And if he accepted that, then did a switch happen by accident or on purpose?
One baby had been sick. Kira had told him that. How could an “accident” happen under those circumstances?
Ed? He’d desperately wanted an heir. He’d wanted a grandson, but grudgingly accepted a granddaughter. He’d loved her in his own crusty way. Unfortunately, Leigh never realized that.
He sighed. Kira might well have opened a snake’s nest. Leigh had a record as a juvenile. Mostly kid stuff. Shoplifting on a dare. Reckless driving. One DUI. The records had been buried by tons of money, but he suspected that Chris Burke could find his way to it.
When the clock struck seven thirty, he called his office and canceled all his morning appointments.
“What about Mr. Melton? You had scheduled a meeting with him.”
Damn. Jack had asked for it three days ago. He wanted a reconsideration of his proposal to buy the company Max had nixed days earlier. He claimed to have new information.
The answer was still going to be no. Max didn’t like the company stats and cared less for its CEO, who would be part of the deal.
“An emergency has developed,” he said. “Postpone the meeting until tomorrow.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“Apologize for me. It can’t be helped.”
“Okay, boss.”
He hung up and called Leigh. She usually woke about this time and went down to the barn.
“’Ello,” she said sleepily.
“Good morning.”
“Too early to be good.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“You know what I like.”
“Do you ever change, Max?”
“Nope.”
“Okay,” she said. “Two eggs over light, dry toast, fruit, and coffee. Boring.”
“I like boring.”
A pause. “Is there something new?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Good or bad?”
“We’ll talk when I get there. Fifteen minutes.”
“It takes me longer than that.”
“Not today.”
“You’re frightening me.”
“I don’t mean to. Now go get dressed.”
He hung up before she could ask more questions. He went to his bathroom, took a quick shower and shaved, then pulled on a pair of slacks and a sports shirt.
He walked across to the big house. He still thought of it that way despite the politically incorrect connotation. He remembered the first time he visited there. It seemed enormous then. It was large, though not nearly as big as many mansions he’d visited. Ed seldom wasted money. He’d wanted a place to entertain for business purposes as well as a home for himself and his family, but he didn’t admire waste.
Toward the end of Ed’s life, Max had found his mentor wandering throughout the place, obviously looking for a family that didn’t exist. His wife had died early and his one child had died in an accident. His granddaughter feared him. Ed had been disappointed time and time again by family. Max didn’t intend that to happen to him.
To his surprise, Leigh was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea as he entered. Mrs. Baker was at the stove and the minute she saw him, she dropped two eggs in a hot frying pan and started the toaster. He poured himself a cup of coffee, just as he used to do when Ed was alive.
“I hope you’re eating, too,” he said to Leigh. “You’re getting too thin.”
“You can never be too thin.”
“That’s a woman’s viewpoint, not a man’s.” His thoughts immediately switched to Kira. She looked like a woman, not a shadow of one.
He wondered how she was doing this morning. Whether she’d talked to the police again, or to an attorney. He had to prepare Leigh for both possibilities.
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