“I figure we have something worthwhile now. Or someone.”
“If you’re talking about Mike’s son, his name is Todd.”
“Yeah, Todd. That’s it.” John Fisher leaned forward, speaking in a slurred voice. “If we play our cards right, you and me as the only surviving heirs can split the insurance money and maybe find the bundle of cash everyone is talking about. You know, the undercover stuff?” He paused. “I heard talk you’re trying to start up a garage. It looks nice. I stopped in there today and looked around. Some extra money would sure go a long way to help you.”
“And your grandson?”
“There’s always some well-meaning couple out there willing to give a kid a decent home. Hell, what would I do with a kid in Alaska?”
Lucas felt his blood began to boil. He would walk on shards of glass before he’d every consider giving Todd to anyone, especially to the worthless piece of scum before him.
The waitress returned with another round of drinks. She offered Lucas a faint, reassuring smile. “Gentleman at the bar said this round is on him.”
Through the escalating fury almost blinding him, Lucas saw Bryan, his right-hand man and computer tech, standing at the bar. Tipping a can of Coors to his lips, he acknowledged Lucas in a mock salute.
“Friend of yours?” John Fisher asked.
“Yeah.” Lucas leaned forward. “Listen, you old bastard, I don’t know what your game is, but ‘the kid’ isn’t going anywhere. I lived the horrors of not being wanted. Todd will never know what I had to endure. I want to raise the boy. By myself, if necessary.”
“It wasn’t my fault. Your mother was a nag, the kind of woman who wouldn’t give a person any space. She’d suck the very air out from around you, if you let her.”
“Space to carouse and whore, you mean, while she carried your second child.”
“I tried, I really tried.” John Fisher voice took on a whiny edge to it.
“Tell me about it. You tried so hard we never knew you even existed!” From his breast pocket, Lucas pulled out a checkbook. “What will it take you to give you your ‘space’ again?”
John Fisher’s eyes registered shock a moment, then narrowed to cagey slits. “Hey, are you trying to buy me off?”
“I’m trying to make you disappear for good this time,” Lucas said through a hiss. “How much?”
“You don’t have enough.”
The remark pleased Lucas. So the old man had no idea he was wealthy. It meant his secret was still safe for a while. He was certain he could count on Mrs. Pedmo to keep a tight lip.
“I’d take a loan if I had to, just to get you off my goddamn back,” Lucas admitted. “As luck would have it, the stock market has been pretty good to me.”
“Rumor has it there’s as much as a hundred thousand dollars the cops never recovered.”
“Even if you found it, do you think you’d be able to walk away with it? You’d end up in a cell so small you’d never have room to breathe.” Lucas removed a pen from his coat and scribbled in the checkbook. “What’s it going to be?”
“I could use one of those fancy cars of yours,” John Fisher said. “It’s a long drive back to Alaska, and my ’98 Plymouth is on its last legs.”
Lucas ripped the check from the book and motioned to Bryan. “My friend here will make sure you’re put up in the best hotel in town.” He handed him the check and turned his attention to young man who came to stand at his elbow.
“Give him the best Suburban on the lot.”
“A hundred thousand dollars,” John Fisher said under his breath staring at the check. “Sure looks like the stock market was really good. Hey, how do I know this check is good? It’s made out to cash.”
Lucas snatched it from his grip and handed it to Bryan. “After Mr. Fisher here signs some papers from my lawyer tomorrow morning relinquishing any attachment to Todd, accompany him to the bank and make sure he has his spending money to return to Alaska, okay?”
Bryan nodded curtly.
“And have one of our mechanics personally escort him to the Ohio border.”
Bryan nodded again.
Lucas stood, his chair grating on the floor. “From now on, old man, I never want to see your face, and I never want you in the kid’s space, either. Got it? As far as Todd is concerned, you really are dead.”
With visible effort John Fisher rose, grabbing the table for support. He nodded and turned to walk away, then turned back. “Since you’re so generous with your money and advice, I think there’s something you should know.”
“What?”
“I’m not Mike’s old man.”
Eyes narrow, Lucas stared at him. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” John Fisher smiled an evil smile.
The implication of the words sank to the pit of Lucas’s stomach like a stone. If John Fisher was hoping for a visible reaction, he was determined to use every ounce of effort not to give him one. “Well, what a relief,” he said with a faked laugh. “But how can I be sure you’re not just blowing hot air?”
“I’m not.”
“You gave him your name.”
“No, your mother gave him my name,” John Fisher said harshly.
Lucas pursed his lips. “Who was it? Who was Mike’s dad?”
John Fisher lifted his shoulders. “You figure it out,” he said with a sneer and walked away.
****
Elise paused at the foot of the step leading up to the front door, glowing yellow under the rays from the porch light. For as long as she could remember, the light had been left on until the last person was safely inside each night. Outside the night was chilly and the rains had heightened the smell of the damp earth and mingled it with the sweet odors of new mown grass, lilacs and spring flowers. It was a refreshing change from the smog and exhaust fumes to which she had been accustomed in the city. If it weren’t for the far-off rumble of thunder heralding another downpour, she could have stood there all night watching the stars play peek-a-boo with the clouds.
Inside she found Fritz fast asleep on the couch. Beside him lay a note pad with messages to call Jack Morrison and Chuck Sanders. She checked her watch. Already it was past one a.m. Jack Morrison could wait forever, she decided. Undoubtedly, he had been checking in to see if she got home safely. She’d let him wonder. He had abandoned her like the coward he was. Chuck, on the other hand, she would call first thing in the morning.
She climbed the steps and slipped past Lucas’s room. The door was open and a lamp burned beside the bed, but he was nowhere in sight. A small green light from the computer in the spare room gleamed at her like a tiny cat’s eye.
Still wide awake from the incident at the Two Horses, Elise went to her room and retrieved a flash drive she had found among Mike Fisher’s belongings. Powering up the computer, she clicked on a word processing program and slipped the flash drive into the port. When it refused to read the data, she shifted to a database program and clicked on a file marked personal. The screen filled with what looked like an address book. She decided not to take any chances and printed a hard copy before going on to the other directories, marked finances, cases and contacts, and miscellaneous. The last of four database files refused to be read by the processor’s database so she closed all the files and made a copy of the lone file, then another copy of the entire flash drive before she perused the address book.
Outside the rains began again, starting with the soft rumble of thunder and quick bold flashes of distant lightning. She cursed softly as she moved quickly down through the list of names, knowing soon she would have to shut down to avoid any interference from an electrical surge or outage. Halfway through the list, she stopped the cursor on Ted and Mary Jo Meyer’s names. She stared at the lines listing both an address and home phone number.
“Elise? Whatcha doing?”
She jumped at the sound of her name. Framed in the doorway, Todd stood sleepy-eyed, clad in his wrinkled pajamas, holding The Fox and the Hound at his chest. Besid
e him, Bess stood vigilant guard and let out a soft whimper.
“Hi, sport, can’t you sleep?” she asked as she shut down the computer.
He came to stand beside her, resting his tousled hair against her shoulder.
“Don’t you like your new room?”
“I don’t like the noise outside.”
Elise removed the flash drive and out of habit hit the button on the processor checking to see the CD drive was also vacant. The slot opened and the CD tray popped out.
“Hey, you have a cup holder, just like Uncle Lucas has on his computer. But J.B. told him he can’t use it.”
“No, I guess not, Todd,” she said and chuckled. “It’s another way for the computer to read information or play music.” She stared at the drawer as it closed silently. J.B.? It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
“Who’s J.B.?”
“He works for Uncle Lucas.” He yawned. “Uncle Lucas calls him the computer genius. What’s a genius?”
“A very, very smart person. Tell me, what does J.B. look like?”
He shrugged. “He has dark hair. His name is Jerome Bryan something, but he hates to be called Jerome, so we call him J.B. He wears boots with little straps over them.”
Engineer boots, she mused. Nick’s sidekick at Two Horses. Lucas had someone following her.
Behind them a crack of thunder exploded, and Todd all but jumped into her lap.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said soothingly and stroked his silky hair.
Quickly she retrieved her flash drives, gathered up the papers, and swiveled in the chair. “I’m not fond of storms either. How about you go to the bathroom while I change into a pair of sweats, and I’ll tuck you in? By morning this will be over.”
“Will you stay a while?” he asked. “Uncle Lucas stays when I’m afraid. Sometimes he lies down with me until I fall asleep.”
She nodded, trying to imagine Lucas Fisher, lean-faced and tough, giving comfort to a small child late at night, and found it wasn’t as odd an image as she thought. Behind his hard exterior there was a gentleness she had never seen in most men, and she found herself attracted to it. “Sure, of course. Do you know where Uncle Lucas went?”
“He got a phone call. He promised he’d be back. He will, won’t he?”
“Yes, I’m certain he will.”
Minutes later, illuminated only by a small night light, she lay on the pillow opposite Todd with his small hand wrapped around her thumb.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered softly.
“I know,” he murmured with a sleepy yawn. “I won’t let you.”
She smiled into the darkness, warmed by the thought.
Outside the rumble of thunder grew louder.
“Eee-lise, do you really think God’s bowling?”
“Uh-huh,” she said and rolled on her side. He snuggled up next to her, poking the back of his soft head of hair under her chin. “And the lightning is when he snaps heaven’s lights on and off.”
“Uncle Lucas says it’s when he bowls, knocks down all the pins, and gets a strike.”
“He does, does he? Well, that sounds like a winner to me. My dad once told me when God plays with his snow globe, he shakes out some flakes and we get our winter snow. What do you think?”
Todd giggled, despite his tiredness. “Wow, he must have a giant one.” He fell silent a moment. “Elise?”
“What?”
“I love you. Do you think you could be my mom? I know Uncle Lucas likes you. A lot.”
Softly, Elise raised a hand and smoothed the baby fine hairs beside his ear. They were as soft as the richest silk, and she felt an overwhelming sadness, a heartsickness so wrenching tears welled up in her eyes. The only thing the small boy wanted in the whole world was to be loved.
“I love you, too, Todd, but I don’t know about the mom part,” she whispered honestly and was glad it was too dark for him to see her watery eyes. “We’ll have to see. Let’s get some sleep.”
****
It was nearly five o’clock in the morning when Lucas finally pulled into the drive. He crept up the steps carefully to avoid making any noise and then silently moved to Elise’s room where the door was ajar. The bed was still made. He stared it a moment, not quite believing his eyes. Anger and disappointment welled up inside him. So she was spending the night elsewhere, he concluded with a dull ache that wrapped itself around his heart. With Morrison, perhaps. Yet J.B. had told him she had caught a ride back to the farm with Nick Peters. Unless Jack Morrison returned and picked her up again.
Well, what did you expect, Fisher? You have no strings to tie her to you. She’s an adult who’s allowed to make choices and decisions on her own.
Sickened, he moved to Todd’s room and quietly pushed the door open. From the side of the bed, Bess came alert and raised her head. As soon the dog recognized him, she dropped her head back down on the carpet.
He found both Elise and Todd snuggled beneath the bedcovers. French blue bedcovers, he reminded himself. Her hair was mussed and spread out on the pillow, like strands of cornsilk baked golden brown from the sun. One arm was tucked beneath her pillow, the other wound around the small boy who slept as deeply and soundly as she.
He stood there a long while just watching them sleep, burning the impression into his memory, and wishing with all his might the scene would be repeated over and over for the rest of his life.
Chapter Fifteen
Elise stood beside the breakfast table with a box of Frosted Flakes poised above her bowl.
“You what?”
“I paid him off to get him out of the picture, out of my life.”
“Oh, Lucas, no. Even if John Fisher isn’t Mike’s real father, unless you can prove otherwise, he still figures into the picture.”
“Not legally he doesn’t. I had papers drawn up which he signed and which now give all custody rights to me.”
“You don’t think it can be reversed?”
“Certainly not if we find out who Mike’s real dad was.” He gestured to her upraised hand. “Pour your cereal, for God’s sake.”
“And if we don’t?” Slumping down into a seat, she dumped cereal and milk into the bowl.
“If we don’t, then we can always prove John Fisher isn’t Mike’s dad with DNA tests.”
Elise scrubbed a hand over her face. “Back up a second. How will you do that? We’d need blood samples or something from Mike.”
“We already have them. The police took samples right after the accident for drug testing. All I’d need is John Fisher’s, too.”
“Oh, this is scary, Lucas. You could be opening Pandora’s box. This could cost a pretty penny. Your father will hit you up for even more money. Once he finds you’ve got money to burn, there will never be an end to the blackmail.”
Coffee cup in hand, Lucas shoved himself away from the table, went to the sink, and leaned against it. “Maybe, but it’s a chance I have to take. Anyway, he came right out and said he didn’t want Todd. Like Clarisse, he was hoping to find the money. Everyone, it seems, wants the damn money. I want the child. What did you find out from the sleaze?”
“Morrison? Not much. The place went berserk and I didn’t have enough time to worm my way far enough into his good graces. I think you may be right. He knows more than he’s letting on. I need more time.” She sighed, rose, and carried her empty bowl and spoon to the sink.
“Forget Morrison. I don’t want you seeing that jackass again.” Lucas swallowed the last drop of coffee and set his empty cup on the counter.
Elise smiled and rinsed her bowl. “Jealous?”
He arched a brow. “What if I am?”
“I’d say you’re being unreasonable, stubborn...and sweet.” She lifted her face to look at him.
Gently he pulled her into his arms and her heart beat a quick staccato as his mouth, warm and hard, came down to meet hers. His arms encircled her back and he nudged her against him. Her breath quickened as the heat of the kiss became more
intense. Her hands fell to his waist and she pulled him even closer, heedless of her damp hands.
“Okay, you two, knock it off, the kids are here and we want our breakfast,” Fritz said, coming through the doorway. Seconds later, Todd came barreling down the steps in his pajamas.
Lucas released her gently, but brushed a light kiss over the top of her hair before she stepped away. He threw a disgruntled look at Elise’s brother. “Fritz, I swear I can’t decide whether you’re my best friend or worst enemy. Do you ever live at your own place?”
“Hey, bonehead, don’t blame me because your timing’s wrong.” Fritz crossed the room, opened the cupboard, and scanned the shelves. Turning to Todd, he said, “Well, buddy, around here it looks like breakfast is cereal or more cereal. Fortunately for us, someone must have stock in General Mills and Kellogg’s. What’ll it be? Wheat, rice, or corn?” Fritz lifted the boy in his arms and made a special effort to help him choose a box.
“I could make you both eggs,” Elise offered.
“Don’t put yourself out, Paula Deen. Just pour me a cup of that hemlock you brewed.”
While they gathered bowls and spoons and sat down to eat, Elise related as cryptically as she could with Todd present what had happened the previous evening.
“This puts a whole new spin on everything,” Fritz said between bites of cereal. He waited until Todd finished and scampered upstairs to change his clothes. “Even if you determine John Fisher wasn’t Mike’s father, what do you prove? If there’s someone else out there hoping to cash in on Mike’s estate, wouldn’t he have had to step forward by now?”
“Maybe he isn’t aware of Mike’s death,” Elise pointed out.
“Or maybe he can’t reveal himself without ruining himself or his family,” Lucas offered.
“Yeah, and maybe he’s dead or just maybe this person doesn’t exist. Maybe Lucas’s dad is lying,” Fritz said. “All of this speculation doesn’t get you any closer to finding the money, clearing Mike’s name, determining the real cause of his death, or his true intent for the custody of Todd.”
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