A Dad At Last

by Marie Ferrarella

  Megan wasn’t about to put up with excuses. “The only thing that’s necessary,” Megan told her, cutting Lacy off, “is for you to pack away your pride and say yes. Pride’s all well and good in its place, but it’s a poor substitute for having things. Take it from a woman who knows.” She saw the skeptical look on Lacy’s face. “There was a time that church mice thought of me as being poorer than they were.”

  Lacy couldn’t believe that Megan had experienced anything less than living in the lap of luxury. “You?”

  “Me.” A tinge of pride entered Megan’s voice. “When I married William Maitland, his family thought he’d taken leave of his senses and that I would drag him down.” Her smile was sunny, almost transforming her into the young woman who had caught William’s eye and heart. “I turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him and his stodgy family.” Megan winked at both of them. “Or so he liked to tell me. Now come along, no more excuses or dragging your feet.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “There, that’s what I like to hear. Complete compliance.” She glanced over her shoulder at Connor just before she and Lacy left the room with Chase. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from this girl, Connor.”

  He already had, he thought, watching them leave. And that was just the problem.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “WELL, WELL, WELL, aren’t you the little princess?”

  Straightening her shoulders, Janelle tossed her hair over her shoulder, its deep chestnut color a sharp contrast to the drab prison-gray dress she was wearing.

  Her lips curled in an expression that was half smirk, half sneer as she regarded the visitor the guard had ushered her in to see. If she’d been expecting Connor, she gave no indication of her disappointment. Instead, brassy insolence defined every inch of her countenance.

  She dropped into the chair that faced Lacy’s across the visitor’s table, determined to remain in control over the other woman the way she had all along. “I was wondering if you’d get around to coming to see me.”

  Alone in the small five-by-nine room with Janelle, Lacy knew there was a policeman right outside the door. All she had to do was call and the man would instantly be in the room, ready to stop anything that was happening. Janelle couldn’t hurt her anymore. Couldn’t steal her baby away the way she had twice already.

  But logic didn’t really help quell the uneasiness shimmering through her.

  With effort, Lacy drew her courage to her. Cutting the shopping trip short, she had left Chase in Megan’s care with a fabricated excuse, borrowed a car from her and driven to the police precinct where she knew Janelle was being kept until her arraignment. She was determined to get some answers from the woman. Otherwise, the questions would continue to haunt her, creeping in late at night, wrapped up in nightmares.

  “Why?” The single word echoed between them. Janelle looked disinterested. Lacy raised her voice. “Why did you do all this?”

  Janelle laughed shortly, pretending to regard her nails. The polish had chipped off them, leaving dull spots here and there. “If you can’t figure that out, you’re simpler than I thought.”

  Janelle’s contemptuous tone ate at her, but then, she hadn’t come here expecting civility.

  “For the money, I know that. I know all about your husband posing as Connor. I can even understand, when it looked as if it was all going to go up in flames, why you stole Chase.” Lacy leaned across the table, her eyes intent on Janelle. “But why did you try to steal him from me in the first place? I was no threat to you.”

  Janelle’s lips twisted, deepening the sneer. She ached to rake what was left of her nails across the pale, delicate face, scarring it. “A lot you know. You were a threat from the very first second you decided to make a play for Connor.”

  Lacy stood her ground. “I didn’t make a play, that just happened.”

  “Yeah, right.” Cynicism dripped from every syllable. Innocence and love in their purest sense had never existed in Janelle’s world. They were myths, fairy tales she’d never witnessed firsthand. “I figured the kid would make a good prop—and I was right. The second she saw him, the old lady melted all over the little bastard—and I use the word correctly,” she added with a malicious laugh, seeing Lacy’s inadvertent wince.

  An icy hand passed over her heart. Lacy shivered. She’d never realized how truly evil Janelle was until this moment. “And you were willing to kill me to get him?”

  The shrug was careless, dismissive. Lacy was less than dirt to her. “Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. You’d given birth to the brat, you’d served your purpose.” Janelle’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the younger woman. “That made you expendable.”

  Anger flooded Lacy. This woman had held her baby captive. Who was to say what she would have done to him if she’d suddenly thought of him as expendable? “And what gives you the right to play with people’s lives like that?”

  “The right?” Janelle echoed. A savage hatred came into her eyes. “The right?” She reached across the table and grabbed Lacy’s arm, her fingers digging into her flesh. “I’ll tell you what gives me the right. I’m one of them, damn it.” Incensed, she released her hold as if she were tossing Lacy away from her. “And while they go around getting everything they want, money dripping out of their pockets, I’m supposed to do without? The hell I am.”

  Lacy stared at her. “One of them? What are you talking about? How can you be one of them?”

  Her anger under control, Janelle laughed coldly. She liked having all the answers. Doling them out. It made her feel powerful.

  “Surprises you, does it? Well, Connor’s squeaky-clean family has a few skeletons in their closet. My father was the old lady’s brother-in-law. Robert Maitland.” There was no love in her voice as she said her father’s name, just as there had never been any love in her heart for the man who’d given her life, but little else.

  Lacy thought she had her there. “Robert Maitland had two children he abandoned, R.J. and Anna.”

  Megan had filled her in on the family history during lunch today. Taking Chase with them, they’d dined in one of Austin’s better restaurants, and Megan had made a point of clearing things up for her. Until then, Lacy had thought that R.J. and Anna were Megan’s oldest children. She’d been surprised to discover that they, like Connor, were nephew and niece. Megan and her late husband had adopted the two after their widowed father, Robert, had disappeared one day. The magnitude of Megan’s heart had impressed Lacy.

  Just as the meanness within Janelle’s took her breath away.

  Janelle’s lips narrowed into two thin lines. “Surprise—he married my mother and then abandoned four more kids before he finally cashed in his chips. You’ll pardon the expression,” she said sarcastically when she saw the confusion on Lacy’s face. “I’m from Vegas. That’s where Robert Maitland met my mother.” For just a fraction of a second, she looked away and her expression softened. If she had ever felt anything at all, it had been for her mother. “My mother was a showgirl. She was really something in her prime.” And then her face clouded over, malevolent again. “But he had no use for her after her looks started to go.”

  Janelle’s gaze shifted back to Lacy. “That’s a Maitland for you—takes the best, leaves the rest.” Anger flashed in her eyes. She wanted revenge on all of them. “They owe me. And when I found that letter from Big Daddy Harland to ‘Uncle’ William in my father’s things after he died, I figured it was time the Maitlands paid up.”

  Lacy wasn’t following this. What Janelle was saying was so disjointed, part of her thought the other woman was deranged or making things up. “What letter?”

  Because it had been such an integral part of her scam for the past year, Janelle had momentarily forgotten it was still a secret.

  “You don’t know, do you? You don’t know who you’ve been drooling over. He’s—” And then she realized that she had another weapon in her hand. Something to hold over Lacy’s head. Her eyes glinted
as her thoughts scrambled. “No, never mind. Why should you know? Why should I tell you anything? Unless, of course,” she continued loftily, “you can see your way clear to using your influence with that old bitch and getting the charges against me dropped.”

  It was a trick, a ploy. There was no so-called secret, no letter. It was just Janelle’s way of trying to manipulate her again. But she wasn’t the same person she’d been a year ago, Lacy thought. She was her own person now.

  It was Lacy’s turn to be contemptuous. And to look at Janelle with pity. “I don’t have any influence, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use it. Not to get you off. You’re evil, Janelle.”

  If the words were meant to shame Janelle, they fell far short of their mark. Instead, she laughed, amused. “Damn straight I am—and proud of it. What did being a Goody Two-shoes ever get anyone?”

  Lacy rose to her feet and crossed to the door. There was no anger, no hatred any longer. There was only abject pity in her eyes as she looked at Janelle. Instead of trying to make something of herself, she’d destroyed lives and created a wretched future for herself, all because she’d been consumed with envy.

  “Peace of mind,” Lacy answered quietly. She rapped on the door, then stepped back as it was opened. “I’m ready to go now.”

  “Go ahead, go,” Janelle scoffed, waving her away. “But you’ll be back. You’ll come crawling back, begging me to tell you. Wait and see if you don’t,” Janelle called after her before the door closed, sealing her in a world she’d never foreseen for herself.

  AS SHE DROVE away from the jail, her mind in turmoil, Lacy’s first thought was to go to Connor with what she’d just discovered.

  But he’d been so distant since last night. Would he think she was making it all up for some purpose of her own? Not that she could entirely blame him. After being exposed to the likes of Janelle, Connor probably held everything suspect. He might not believe what she had to tell him, especially since she hadn’t told him about his son.

  But that was exactly why he should believe her, she argued silently. The very fact that she hadn’t told him he had a son should prove that she wasn’t out for anything, certainly not her own personal gain.

  She needed proof before she went to Connor.

  Lacy realized that the light had turned green and there were cars behind her, waiting to go. The one directly behind her beeped. She pressed down on the gas pedal.

  What had Janelle meant when she’d implied that Connor wasn’t who he seemed to be? Was there a germ of truth in that, or was Janelle just trying to mess up her mind?

  Probably the latter.

  But she couldn’t quite put her mind to rest on the subject.

  Lacy blew out a breath. Glancing at the street sign on the corner, she made a decision. At the end of the block, she made a U-turn. Before she let her imagination get the better of her and gave Janelle’s rantings any credence, she wanted to have a few things cleared up. But for that, she was going to need some help.

  And she knew just who to go to.

  “YOU’RE ASKING ME to give away my secrets?” Chelsea asked, half in jest.

  “Not all of them,” Lacy clarified, not sure if she’d offended Chelsea. She hardly knew the woman, and this probably seemed like an imposition. “I just need to know where to find some information. I need to have something substantiated.” Chelsea had, until recently, worked for the tabloid television show “Tattle Today TV.” Lacy was certain that if anyone would know where to find old records, it would be Chelsea.

  Chelsea slipped her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, drawing her into the cozy living room of Max Jamison’s house. The TV reporter and private investigator had finally acknowledged their love for each other after a year of being each other’s worst enemies.

  “I’m teasing, Lacy,” Chelsea said. “You have to lighten up a little, although Lord knows you’ve had more than your share to deal with lately. Sure, I’ll help. Just what is it you need to know?”

  She led Lacy to a room just down the hall. Inside Lacy could see a desk with a laptop computer on it. The screen was turned on. “Is there somewhere on the Internet I can look up marriage licenses and birth records?”

  And here she’d thought Lacy was going to ask something difficult. Chelsea almost felt cheated of a challenge. “Provided they’re available, sure.” She led her into the room Max used as an office. “Got a name?”

  “Yes,” Lucy said, entering behind her.

  “State?” Standing to the side of the desk, Chelsea turned to look at Lacy. “Or better yet, a city?”

  “Yes.” But what if Janelle had been lying about where she was from? “At least, I think so.”

  “Great, then you’re in business.” Leaning over the computer, Chelsea pressed a few buttons, hooking up to the Internet. A tinny voice announced that she had mail. Chelsea grinned. “You know, in a few years, we’re probably going to be able to walk up to this little box and say, ‘Computer, access birth records from—’” She looked at Lacy.

  “Las Vegas.”

  Curiosity began to unfurl within her, but Chelsea held it in check. “Las Vegas and, wham, it’ll all be there, right at your fingertips.” She gestured at the screen. “Who would have ever thought that Gene Rodenberry was a visionary?”

  Lacy looked at her blankly. “Who?”

  Chelsea’s expression was incredulous. “My God, girl, don’t tell me you’ve never seen an episode of Star Trek? That’s almost un-American.”

  Concerned with the import of what she might have learned, Lacy knew her mind was a million miles away. She flushed. “Oh, right. The producer. Sorry, I guess I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.”

  With what? Chelsea wondered. “No problem, I understand.” She cleared away a few papers, then stepped back, letting Lacy sit down at the desk. “Now, want me to hover around as a consultant, or do you want to do this in private?”

  Lacy bit her lower lip, hesitating. This was Chelsea’s laptop. She couldn’t very well tell her to go away. On the other hand, she didn’t want to have to be in a position to deal with questions before she was sure she had the right answers. “I—”

  Chelsea had gone far in her field because of her acute ability to read a person’s body language and subtle shifts in mood. She saw her answer in Lacy’s eyes.

  “Gotcha.” She smiled. “I’m into privacy a lot more since I’ve left ‘Tattle Today.’” Moving in closer for a second, she typed something on the upper portion of the screen, then stepped aside again. “Okay, there’s the Web address. Have fun.”

  Chelsea left and closed the door behind her, consumed with curiosity but bound by her word. Sometimes, she mused, being honorable had its drawbacks.

  MEGAN COULDN’T help herself. Having finished dressing for dinner, she stopped by Lacy’s room and rapped lightly before peeking in.

  What she saw warmed her heart. The inner loveliness she’d been aware of since the first moment she’d met Lacy was most definitely shining through.

  “You certainly are a knockout.” Circling the other woman slowly, Megan nodded. “I knew that dress was perfect for you the second we saw it in the store window.”

  Pleased, Lacy ran her hands over the skirt of the sheath she was wearing. The amount on the price tag she’d glimpsed while trying it on in the store was more than her entire wardrobe had cost back when she’d worked as a cook for Connor and his mother on their ranch.

  But Megan had insisted on buying it for her, and Lacy couldn’t seem to make herself resist. She had already turned down Megan’s generosity several times. It was one thing for the woman to buy clothes for her grandnephew, but Lacy knew she wasn’t anything to the family. Just a woman caught up in things, nothing more.

  Still, the gesture touched her heart, just as the dress had won it.

  Beaming, Lacy turned to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The deep green sheath was beautiful. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Megan warned sternly
. “I’ll be extremely hurt if you do, Lacy. One of the nice things about having money is that I get to spend it the way I want on the people I want. Now stop being difficult and smile, dear. You look positively radiant when you do.” When the shy smile appeared, Megan nodded, pleased. “Easy to see why Connor lost his head over you.”

  The misbegotten observation sobered her. “Connor didn’t lose his head,” Lacy corrected Megan quietly. “He was grief-stricken over the loss of his mother and he’d had a little too much to drink that night.”

  As she spoke, it all came vividly back to her. The words, the moment, the look in his eyes as he took her into his arms and kissed her. She could almost feel his lips on hers. She’d never felt so happy in her life. Before or since.

  “When I tried to comfort him, well, one thing just seemed to lead to another….” She let her voice drift off.

  Megan tried to read between the lines and wasn’t sure she liked what she was reading. “He forced himself on you?”

  Lacy’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no, no,” she protested quickly. “He’s never been anything but a complete gentleman.” A sad smile teased the corners of her mouth. “A little too much so. I’ve always had feelings for him, but it was sort of a one-way street.”

  Relieved that her grandchild hadn’t been conceived as a result of an assault, Megan smiled at the young woman beside her.

  “I’m not so sure.” She’d seen the way Connor had looked at Lacy in unguarded moments. Seen the way he’d behaved toward her when Lacy had rushed out last night to claim her son. There was far more than just chivalry at work here.

  Not wanting her hopes to rise needlessly, Lacy waved away Megan’s words. “You’re just being kind.”

  No, she wasn’t, but she didn’t have time to make Lacy see reason. Her children had been arriving for the last half hour. It was time to get things moving.