Yesterday's Scandal

by Gina Wilkins

  She seemed grateful that he’d veered into less personal waters. “Almost six years, I think. Trent’s twenty-six, and Trevor is thirty-two.”

  “And their sister is older?”

  “A year older than Trevor,” she agreed. “Tara’s thirty-three. Um—about your age?” she hazarded, obviously hinting.

  “The same,” he agreed. “I’m thirty-three.” He wondered if the fact that he and Tara McBride had been born only months apart made it more or less likely that they had the same father. He couldn’t help wondering how Sharon would react if he made that speculation aloud. She’d proven to be even more helpful than he’d hoped in providing information about the McBrides—but something told him that would stop abruptly if she suspected he had an ax to grind against the family she obviously admired so greatly.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Caleb and Bobbie McBride,” he commented, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. Mac had a pretty strong suspicion that Caleb wasn’t the man he was searching for but he might as well find out everything he could. “The way everyone in town talks about them, they sound intriguing.”

  Sharon smiled. “They are. You’ll like them, I’m sure. Caleb’s a true Southern gentleman. Jamie says he plays the part of the small-town Southern lawyer to the hilt. She’s crazy about him, of course—as I am.”

  “He’s the founder of the McBride Law Firm, right?”

  “Right. He opened the practice long before I was born.”

  “I, um, suppose he has to travel quite a bit in his line of work.”

  Laughing a little, Sharon shook her head. “Caleb never leaves Honoria. You wouldn’t believe what his family went through just to get him to take this vacation. He calls himself the original homebody, someone who is perfectly happy to live his entire life in the town where he was born. I don’t remember him ever being gone for more than a day or two at a time, and never without his wife and family to accompany him.”

  So Caleb never left Honoria. Mac nodded somberly. “He and his wife sound very close. They must be a lot alike.”

  “I’m sure they are in some ways. But Bobbie—well.” She seemed to grope for the most suitable adjectives.

  He chuckled. “I’ve heard she can be…intimidating.”

  “The people who told you that were probably in her class at one time. She’s the terror of Honoria Elementary—and the best teacher in town. Fiercely loyal to her family and friends, a bit gruff but very good-hearted, bossy but well-intentioned. There are some people who are put off by her bluntness, but I’m very fond of her. She and Caleb are a wonderful couple—the perfect foils for each other. They both have something very special to offer. They’ve been married for almost forty years.”

  “Are there any McBrides you don’t like?” Mac asked, shaking his head.

  She laughed. “No, not really. My own family is so small—just Mom and Brad and me, and a few distant relatives we don’t see very often. I must admit, I’ve always been a little fascinated by the McBride clan.”

  “It shows.”

  Her mouth twisted. “I suppose that’s why you and I always end up discussing them. You must wonder if I ever talk about anything else.”

  Had she actually convinced herself that she was the one who kept bringing the McBrides into their conversation? If so, Mac had been more subtle than he’d believed—or she was more worried about her brother than she was letting on, which was more likely. Deciding to be content with the progress he’d made for the evening, as well as feeling guilty for manipulating Sharon this way, Mac changed the subject. “Did you get all the photographs you needed today? Will you be out at the site again tomorrow?”

  She shook her head. “I’m going car shopping tomorrow afternoon. I can’t keep renting.”

  “Did your insurance come through for you?”

  She shrugged ruefully. “To a point. I took a loss, of course, and I’ll have to finance a new car.”

  “It’s damn unfair, isn’t it? Whoever was driving that van should be the one paying. It wasn’t your fault the idiot decided to run you off the road.”

  “I know. And you’re right. It is unfair, and it makes me furious, but I suppose I’ll have to live with it until Wade catches the guy. Even then the chances are slim I’ll ever be reimbursed, I suppose.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I try not to think about that night very often,” she said, looking into her coffee cup. “It’s too disturbing for the most part. But I can’t help wondering sometimes…”

  “Wondering what?” he asked gently, sensing she needed to talk.

  She looked up at him. “The van seemed to come at me so deliberately. You don’t think—you don’t think it was deliberate, do you? To keep me from testifying about what I saw, or somehow identifying him, I mean? Am I letting my imagination run away with me when I think along those lines?”

  She was asking for reassurance that someone hadn’t deliberately tried to kill her. Knowing how horrifying that possibility must be to her, Mac wished he could give her the reassurance she wanted. But in this, at least, he had to be honest with her. “I don’t know, Sharon. Maybe it was an accident, but under the circumstances, maybe it wasn’t. You can bet it’s a question your friend Wade will ask if he ever gets his hands on the guy.”

  “When, not if,” Sharon corrected him automatically. “Wade will catch him.”

  From what he was learning about the very thorough police chief, Mac understood why she spoke so confidently. If the driver of that van was still in the area, there was a good chance Wade would catch him. But it was more likely that he was long gone. Too many crimes like that were never solved, an endless source of frustration to those who worked in law enforcement, and one of the reasons Mac had wanted out.

  “Try not to dwell on it,” he advised her, knowing that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. “You’re safe now. It isn’t as if you could identify anyone.”

  “I know. I just can’t help remembering every once in a while…” Her voice trailed off as she shivered, and he pictured her reliving the terror during sleepless nights. His fist tightened around his coffee cup. He wished he could get his hands on the guy who had almost cost Sharon her life.

  She shook her head. “I’m fine, really. And I’ll never forget the way you helped me that night.”

  “I’m just glad I was there. So, is anyone going car shopping with you tomorrow? Or do you prefer to handle that sort of thing on your own?”

  “Brad wants to go, but fortunately he has baseball practice. I’m afraid he would try to talk me into buying something completely impractical—like a Corvette or a Viper or something equally out of my price range. I’m quite sure he won’t approve of the sensible sedan I intend to buy. My friend Jerry—he’s an insurance salesman here in Honoria—offered to go with me, but Jerry’s the take-charge type. He’d never let me get a word in edgewise with the car salesperson. He means well, but I’d prefer to handle the purchase myself.”

  “If you’d like some company, I’d be happy to go with you. I’d only give my opinion when you ask for it.”

  She looked intrigued. “Are you sure you have the time?”

  “I’ll make the time—if you want me to go along.”

  “Actually, I would appreciate having a second opinion. I thought about asking Trevor or Trent, but I wasn’t sure either of them would be available.”

  “I’m available.”

  Her smile made him glad he’d taken the risk of offering his company. She was obviously pleased—which pleased him in return. “I’d like that.”

  “So would I.” And he was well aware that it had very little to do with finding out more about the McBrides.

  Because it was getting harder with each passing moment to sit so close to her without touching her, he set his coffee cup on the table and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She rose with him. “You’re leaving?”

  He glanced at the staircase. “It seems like the wisest choice.”

  Following h
is glance, she nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Where do you want to meet tomorrow?”

  “My shop—noon?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She followed him to the door. Casting one more quick look at the empty staircase, he reached out and pulled her toward him for one long, thorough kiss. It was all he allowed himself—but he simply couldn’t leave without it. She returned the embrace with an eagerness that suggested she had needed it as badly as he did—or was that only wishful thinking on his part?

  As he drove back to his apartment, Mac tried to analyze exactly what was going on between him and Sharon Henderson. He wanted her—he’d be an idiot to deny that. But he also wanted any background she could give him about the McBrides, especially Caleb and his brothers.

  And yet somehow, he had the uncomfortable feeling there was even more between them than that. And he wasn’t at all sure what to do about it. His one attempt at commitment had ended in pain and bitterness—he had no intention of going through anything like that again. Especially with a woman who might very well hate him when she found out why he was really here.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAC STUDIED the McBride family tree taking shape on the yellow legal pad. Two hours after leaving Sharon’s house, he sat at the small round table in the eat-in kitchen of his temporary apartment, his notes spread in front of him. He’d been trying to concentrate on the few new tidbits he’d learned, rather than the way Sharon’s mouth had felt beneath his. He’d made an attempt to remember the reason he’d come to Honoria in the first place, rather than the look of reciprocal desire he had seen in Sharon’s eyes.

  Thinking of Sharon tonight could prove to be far more uncomfortable than brooding on bad memories.

  “Caleb and Bobbie McBride,” he had written at the top of a fresh sheet of paper. Beneath the names, he’d noted that they’d been married for nearly seven years before Mac’s conception—which meant Caleb could have been the married man who’d had an affair with Mac’s mother. Although it was possible, Mac was having trouble believing it. There were certain other things that didn’t fit at all. Caleb had long been established as an attorney in town, a job that seemed to require no travel. From what everyone said, he and Bobbie were very happily married, almost perfectly suited. So why would he risk everything to have an affair? Especially since Caleb’s oldest child, Tara, was Mac’s own age, which indicated Caleb and Bobbie had certainly been getting along at least reasonably well thirty-three years ago.

  Everything Mac had heard about that branch of the McBride family indicated that they were almost TV-sitcom perfect—a small-town lawyer and a schoolteacher with three attractive, intelligent, popular and successful kids. If scandal really was a McBride legacy, it seemed to have affected that group less dramatically than the others.

  Caleb’s children seemed to have grown up in the kind of home Mac had secretly fantasized about when he’d been a lonely boy whose single mother worked too long and too hard, leaving him alone too much to daydream about what his life might have been like if things had been different.

  He’d watched other boys with their dads and he had wondered what it would be like to have a father of his own. He’d gone through stages of resentment, anger, even rebellion that his father hadn’t wanted to be a part of his life. Much like Brad Henderson, he realized. Brad definitely needed a strong male influence in his life, rather than two women who seemed to have gotten into the habit of overindulging him.

  Mac had been fortunate to have a mother who had been determined to help him make something of himself, and a few good male role models—a couple of favorite teachers, a coach and a police officer neighbor who’d taken Mac under his wing. He knew Brad was involved in sports, so maybe the boy had a few guys who cared enough to keep him in line, show him what being a real man was all about.

  He wondered if Sharon’s friend Jerry was one of Brad’s role models.

  He’d heard about Jerry, even before Sharon had casually mentioned him. Rumor was that Sharon and Jerry had been dating for a while, though no one seemed to think it had gotten serious yet. There’d been a few who felt the need to mention the guy to Mac—as if obliquely warning him that he could be intruding on posted property. Mac had decided to take his cues from Sharon, herself—and she’d certainly given no indication that any other man had a claim on her.

  He didn’t think she’d appreciate the terms in which he was thinking about her, he thought with a frown. She wasn’t property to be claimed by any man, including himself. And yet he was aware that he still didn’t like thinking about Jerry. He was sure he wouldn’t like him—and he’d never even met the guy. Which meant that what he really disliked was the thought of Sharon spending time with any other man.

  Slamming his pencil onto the table, he shoved his chair backward and stood. He didn’t want to sit here identifying with Sharon’s fatherless kid brother, or brooding about her other male friends. And there didn’t seem to be any more conclusions he could reach about the McBrides tonight. He still knew almost nothing about Jonah, Josiah Jr. and Caleb’s younger brother. He was the remaining piece of the genetic puzzle Mac was trying to assemble.

  Mac needed to figure out a way to somehow include Jonah McBride in his next conversation with Sharon. At the moment, that seemed much easier than trying to figure out a way to entice Sharon into his bed.

  SHARON HAD KNOWN when she accepted Mac’s offer to look for a car with her that the friendship growing between them would no longer be private. She might as well have posted a notice in the Honoria Gazette that she was dating him. She knew people would talk. But she didn’t really care. She and Mac were single, unattached adults. There was no reason at all why they shouldn’t spend time together.

  She had such a good time that Wednesday afternoon. She enjoyed being with Mac, valued his advice, appreciated the way he stood back and let her do her own talking and make her own decisions. And she savored the way he looked at her, making her feel feminine and desirable and special in a way no other man had ever made her feel. She was aware that she was becoming majorly infatuated with this man, but she told herself she could handle it.

  At least, she hoped she could.

  She had hardly parked her new car in the garage that evening when the telephone rang. Tossing her purse aside, she grabbed the kitchen extension. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Sharon. It’s a pleasant surprise to hear your voice rather than your answering machine.”

  She grimaced. It was obvious from Jerry’s tone that he wasn’t happy—and she could guess the reason. “Hi, Jerry.”

  “I hear you got a new car this afternoon.”

  “Yes. I was planning to call you first thing in the morning to update my insurance. How did you hear about it?”

  “Charlie Hayes came by my office just before closing time to give me the information on his new pickup. He mentioned that he’d seen you at the dealership.”

  Sharon remembered chatting with the retired school principal who’d once been her mother’s boss. She had introduced him to Mac. “Mr. Hayes looks good, doesn’t he?” she said. “He seems to have fully recovered from his bout with cancer.”

  She’d had a faint hope Jerry would allow her to direct the conversation, but she wasn’t surprised when he said, instead, “Charlie told me you’d brought a friend with you.”

  “Yes,” she answered evenly. “Mac Cordero volunteered to go with me when I mentioned my plans for the afternoon.”

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I also volunteered.”

  “No, I didn’t forget. But I didn’t want to take you away from your office. Mac had some free time this afternoon.”

  “Rumor has it you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with this guy.”

  So people had been talking. “I am on his renovation team,” she said rather lamely.

  “And the project isn’t anywhere close to where your services are needed. From what I hear, they’ve just started tearing out walls and old fixtures and wirin
g. It’ll be weeks before they start rebuilding.”

  “Mac has asked me to be involved at all stages. He likes my ideas.”

  “I’m sure he does,” Jerry muttered.

  Because that comment seemed juvenile, Sharon chose not to respond. “Would you like to hear about my new car? It isn’t fancy, but it’s—”

  “What I would like to hear,” he cut in curtly, “is just what is going on between you and Mac Cordero.”

  She wondered why Jerry suddenly sounded so priggish. She’d never really thought of him in those terms before. Of course, she had never really done anything to annoy him this much before. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Jerry. Nor do I have to ask your permission to see other people.”

  “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me lately? You’re seeing this Cordero guy?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good time to discuss this.”

  “And when is a good time, Sharon? Every time I’ve suggested getting together lately, you’ve had an excuse.”

  That was true, she realized with a grimace. She’d been trying to send gentle hints to Jerry, when it would have been better to tell him outright that she wasn’t interested in him romantically. That she valued his friendship and hated to lose it, but she couldn’t commit to a relationship that realistically was going nowhere. “Perhaps we could have dinner one night next week?”

  There was a taut, lengthy pause. “Don’t do me any favors.”

  “Come on, Jerry. There’s no need to…” But Sharon’s words were met by a dial tone. He’d hung up on her. She sighed in exasperation.

  “He dumped you, didn’t he?”

  The voice from behind her made her start, the phone still clutched in her hand. “Brad, you startled me,” she said, shaking her head as she replaced the receiver. “I nearly jumped out of my shoes. Do you want to see my new—”

  “Did you let Jerry break up with you?” her brother interrupted.

  She realized only then that Brad looked furious.