Reese shook his head. “Doug’s been with me from the beginning. He owns a share in the company. Small, but worth a fortune. At thirty-eight, the man’s rich enough to retire, but he loves to work. And he relocated to our own branch, to be near his wife’s family. He didn’t leave for another firm.”
Best to keep the focus narrow. “Is it possible he had the designs for the prototype on his laptop?”
“Yes, but it’s securely encrypted. You know the lengths we’ve gone to.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately because that means Doug stole them on purpose and sold them overseas?” Reese started to twist his subtly interwoven amber-and-blue tie, then released it quickly.
“Or he left the laptop turned on around someone he trusted. A family member. Personal cleaning staff.”
“You think his maid downloaded a complicated piece of technology while he was in the bathroom? Sounds preposterous, but I suppose it’s worth investigating.”
“Already did.” Mike handed over a printout. “She’s worked for them ten years and she and her family moved with them to Phoenix. No questionable associations or financial transactions that I can find.”
Reese barely glanced at the paper before dropping it on the desk. “Who else, then?”
“I’m asking your permission to contact Mr. Loughlin and request his cooperation.” This would be tricky. No matter how carefully Mike phrased that conversation, he was likely to antagonize the man.
“I can’t afford to lose Doug. It’s insulting to question his integrity, and pointless.”
Mike had run smack into a brick wall. “You hired me to make suggestions, and I’m making them.”
On his feet now, Reese paced across the carpet. “Doug’s as security conscious as I am. He was furious when he learned about the theft. He called me a couple of times, trying to figure out who on his staff might have done it. I gave you that information.”
“And I followed up on it, as you’ll see in my report. Drew a blank.”
“I don’t see how anyone could have stolen this information from him. We bend over backward to be discreet with our top people. When they’re relocating, they don’t even hold open houses to sell their homes. We guarantee the sale and take care of the whole process. Purchasers visit by appointment only, and always with our Realtor present.”
Mike missed whatever Reese said next, because the words “Realtor” got stuck in his brain. Could that be the connection?
“Who handles the real estate transactions?” he asked.
“Mayor Hightower. He’s a close friend as well as someone I respect professionally. In fact, I’ve been encouraging him to run for the state assembly,” Reese answered. “Why?”
Although Mike had sometimes seen apparently unrelated threads weave together in an investigation, this was the first time it had happened—or potentially happened—since he’d left the police department. “Does he have a key to the homes he’s selling for you?”
“Of course. But he doesn’t leave it in a lockbox for other agents. He keeps it in his possession at all times.”
“Would you mind asking Mr. Loughlin if he might have left his laptop unsecured in the mayor’s presence?”
“You have got to be kidding!” The flare of dismay on Reese’s face warned Mike that he’d stepped into a minefield.
Although he no longer worked for Mrs. Hightower, Mike had promised to keep the information about the mayor’s affair confidential. That didn’t apply if Roy was involved in a crime, but at this point he had no such evidence.
There’s always a work-around. “The mayor does a lot of business with an escrow officer who owns a company in my complex. Yelena Yerchenko is a Russian national,” he said carefully.
“Kind of a stretch, don’t you think?” Reese stopped pacing, though.
“She’s a very attractive woman,” Mike said.
The CEO received this information coolly. “It’s far-fetched, but I suppose she might have been on the property to get papers signed or something. Presumably Roy would trust her.”
“If you like, I could look into this further.”
Reese gave a tight nod. “Very well. But proceed with caution. If word gets out that we’re investigating him, it could hurt me and my company. We’re big enough to survive a libel suit or whatever he might throw at us. I’m not so sure about you.”
No need to elaborate. Even aside from the possibility of a court judgment, Roy Hightower was a popular man among the general public and with Mike’s former colleagues. The mayor had long been a staunch supporter of the police department. “I’ll be careful.”
They shook hands again. As Mike left, he recalled how hard he’d wished for a fresh lead in this case. Well, he’d found it.
Damn.
Chapter Thirteen
The last patient Paige felt like seeing on Friday was Sheila Obermeier, who’d come in for a consult.
“Gil refuses to go to the appointment with Dr. Rattigan!” the petite blonde announced the moment Paige entered the examining room. Sitting on a chair fully dressed, Mike’s ex-wife radiated indignation. “He says it’s insulting to think there might be anything wrong with him. As if it’s just fine to assume the problem’s entirely with me!”
Paige pummeled her rebellious emotions into a small box and set them aside. This was a patient who needed her help. Paige’s own issues, which had tormented her since Tuesday, had no right to interfere.
“I believe there’s an underlying issue that he hasn’t discussed with you. Maybe he hasn’t completely identified it in his own mind,” she said.
“What kind of issue?” Sheila asked.
“That’s hard to say. A skilled counselor could bring it out.” Paige felt like a nag, harping on the same advice, but Sheila’s marriage hung in the balance.
“I told you, he won’t go. Honestly, I’m ready to give him an ultimatum. Put up or shut up.” Tears darkened the woman’s eyelashes. “Holidays make it worse. My mom and stepdad live in Alaska, and Gil doesn’t have close family, either. Mike might have been gone a lot, but he had a great family. Like this weekend, for the Fourth of July, they always got together and it felt so warm and wonderful. If I had kids, we could celebrate on our own, but just me and Gil—it’s not very festive.” She swallowed.
“That must be tough.” Having grown up with a thundering horde of relatives, Paige had enjoyed spending quiet holidays with Aunt Bree and a few friends. Now that Bree was gone, though, that had changed.
Is this what my baby has to look forward to? Holidays spent wishing he had a bunch of people to love him?
She tore her attention back to Sheila, who was saying, “You’re his housemate, right? I’ll bet they invited you to the party this weekend. They’ll probably welcome you like family.”
“I’ve only met them briefly,” Paige said, uncomfortable with the personal turn of the conversation.
“You said you live at the beach. Are they coming to your place?”
“No, my house is too small. They’re just borrowing my refrigerator.”
“But they’re meeting at the beach here in Safe Harbor!” Sheila brightened. “Gil and I were thinking of having a picnic. Maybe we’ll run into them.”
Oh, no. Paige could have kicked herself for revealing the location of the get-together. Nothing she could do about that now, though. “I suggest you avoid mentioning Dr. Rattigan for now. Instead, wait for a quiet moment and see if you can get your husband to discuss why he’s so reluctant to get tested.”
“I just need to apply the right kind of pressure.” Sheila sniffled. “I always feel better after I talk to you.”
Paige wasn’t sure she’d helped. She might even have made things worse, and created an awkward situation for the Aarons, she m
used as she shook hands before escorting the patient out.
At least she had something else to worry about than how she was going to tell Mike about her pregnancy.
* * *
“ME GO SWIMMING!” CRIED the three-year-old girl, and pelted across the beach past a large umbrella and a sand castle, heading for the waves.
“Graciela, wait!” Her dad, his black hair close-cropped as befitted a marine, raced to swoop her up.
“I can’t turn my back on her for a minute. Thank goodness Sam’s home from overseas,” said her mother, Lourdes, one of Mike’s stepsisters. The cheerful brunette leaned back in her woven beach chair, keeping a close eye on her fifteen-month-old son as he rolled in the sand.
Seated on a beach towel, Paige hugged her knees, enjoying the controlled chaos of a family gathering. The elder Aarons, Nina and Joe, had arrived early to stake out a prime spot for their blue-and-white canopy and canvas chairs. Paige’s refrigerator and kitchen had filled up with food and ice, while extra picnic supplies weighed down her table. Not that she minded.
Nearly noon, and there’d been no sign of Sheila. All morning, Paige had tried to convince herself that the woman wouldn’t be brassy enough to crash her ex-husband’s family gathering. Aside from that, Gil was certain to veto the idea.
Here came a welcome distraction: Mike, carting a large wicker basket under his mother’s supervision, while his brother toted a six-pack of soda and a fresh bag of ice to refill the cooler. Bright midday sunshine washed across Mike’s half-naked body, caressing his sculpted torso above minuscule red trunks and reminding her of what she’d been missing all week.
Since Tuesday, she hadn’t felt like making love. With their tight schedules, she’d had a ready excuse, but Mike had looked hurt when she ducked his invitations. To a guy, a few days must seem like an eternity.
Whatever Paige was going to say, she’d better get it out soon before he noticed the gradual change in her figure. Today, she’d worn shorts and a T-shirt as a precaution.
“Are we ready to eat? I’m starving!” Erica announced from the far side of the canopy, where she’d been talking intently with Renée Green, Lock’s birth mother.
At five months along, the mother-to-be was blooming—and wisely staying out of the sun. An increase in pigmentation could cause a darkening of the face known as the mask of pregnancy or, technically, chloasma. Also, Erica’s light coloring made her vulnerable to burning and skin cancer. Not as much as being a redhead, Paige reflected, and reached for her tube of sunscreen to apply another round.
“Erica, come eat. Lourdes, bring the little ones. We’ve got chips and dips and sandwiches, all nice and fresh, thanks to Paige’s fridge.” Nina Aaron bathed Paige in a smile. “You’ve been such a help!”
“I’ve hardly done anything, but thanks,” Paige responded, embarrassed. Mike’s mother had showered her with warmth all day, no doubt based on the belief that she and Mike were an item. While that wasn’t entirely wrong, Paige didn’t want to encourage expectations considering that things were due to come crashing to earth any day now.
Mike dropped down beside her. “Let me do that.” Sliding the slippery tube from her grasp, he squeezed a dollop into his palm.
She felt half a dozen pairs of interested eyes fix on them. “I can manage.”
“You can’t reach your back. I’ve heard people can burn right through T-shirts.” Without warning, he tugged hers up to bare her waist and back. “See? About to turn pink any minute.” Strong fingers smoothed the cream along her spine and around the band of her bra.
A lovely tingle ran from his fingertips down her spine. Paige leaned forward onto liquid knees, her breasts heavy with longing for him to reach around and stroke them.
She felt herself blushing. For heaven’s sake, how could she think about such things in front of his whole family?
Everyone had redirected their attention to the food, but they couldn’t have missed the way he’d lifted her shirt high enough to expose the back of her bra. While that was no big deal on a beach where women trailed about in crocheted bikinis the size of spiderwebs, it removed any pretense that they were merely housemates.
As soon as she could, she eased her shirt down. “Mike! People are watching.”
He rocked back on his heels. “What’s eating you?”
“I just don’t want to give your family the wrong idea.”
“What idea is that?” he asked.
Did they have to discuss this within earshot of the others? Although the murmur of waves provided a partial sound screen, it was hardly foolproof. “I mean, that there’s anything serious.”
“I assure you, no one’s planning to hire a catering hall anytime soon,” he told her sharply. “Are you trying to get back at me?”
“What?”
Even though he kept his voice low, there was no mistaking the note of anger. “There’s been a distinct chill since you learned I’m a sperm donor. Is this your way of punishing me?”
“For what?”
“Not wanting to have kids.”
“Absolutely not.” The idea astonished her. “I would never try to manipulate…” She broke off abruptly.
Toward them across the sand trekked Sheila in a hot-pink swimsuit that revealed a wealth of curves and a flat stomach flashing a jeweled navel ring. Behind her, a pudgy Gil halted in his tracks, dropping the chairs and beach bag he’d been carrying. “You didn’t tell me your ex-husband would be here!”
Mike returned the man’s glare. “What the hell is this?”
“Hey! How great to see everybody!” Sheila crowed. “Nina! Lourdes! Where’s Marianne?”
“Here.” Mike’s sister, drenched from bodysurfing, hiked toward them from the waterline. “Sheila, it’s nice to see you. What, uh…?”
Ignoring the unfinished question, Sheila went on greeting everyone as if they were her best friends in the world. Gil stood rooted to the spot, clearly torn between outrage and embarrassment.
Sheila must have come here to punish her husband for his lack of cooperation, Paige thought. That was the kind of passive-aggressive behavior Mike had grown accustomed to during his marriage, and here it was, right under their noses. Did the woman truly believe that putting her husband into such an uncomfortable position would make him change his mind about getting tested?
Moreover, Gil’s body language spoke volumes. Folded arms, hips angled away, and agitated glances at Mike gave Paige a strong clue about the man’s inner turmoil. While Gil had good reason to be uncomfortable around the man whose wife he’d stolen, his self-conscious movements told an additional story. Unless she missed her guess, Mike’s blatant masculinity threatened the guy. Overweight and out of shape, Gil looked like a chubby wolf forced to confront the alpha male in a pack.
No wonder he shrank from medical testing that might reveal a fertility problem. What to Paige seemed purely a medical matter added to Gil’s feelings of falling short in comparison to Sheila’s former husband. Today’s contrast, unmistakable in their swimsuits, could only heighten the problem. If Sheila had meant to goad her husband into cooperating, she’d probably achieved the opposite effect by making him even more insecure.
Paige tuned back into the conversation. After breezily acknowledging Lock’s introduction to his new wife, Sheila was responding to a question from Marianne. “Well, okay, I did spring a teensy-weensy surprise on my husband, but a little bird told me you’d all be here.”
Paige realized her talkative patient was about to make things much worse with Mike. If only she could head this off, give Sheila a signal or something…but aside from throwing sand in the woman’s face, that didn’t seem possible.
So Paige sat there cringing as Mike’s ex-wife announced in shrill tones, “It seemed too good to be true when Dr. Brennan mentioned yesterday that you’d
all be here today. I’ve missed you terribly!”
Mike turned to Paige in astonishment. “You invited her?”
“It slipped out.” She bit down on any further words rather than reveal privileged information.
Nina Aaron, who’d greeted her former daughter-in-law warily, stepped into the breach. “Dr. Brennan, you said? You must be one of Paige’s patients.”
Silently, Paige thanked Mike’s mother. There was no prohibition on someone else guessing the truth, especially when Sheila herself had supplied the hint.
Mike’s expression turned sheepish. Close to Paige’s ear, he said, “That’s what’s been bothering you? Sorry I jumped to conclusions. If she gave you the impression I want her here, she was lying.”
Paige nodded. While she didn’t mean to leave him with the mistaken idea that she’d withdrawn this week because of his ex-wife, they couldn’t discuss her real reason now.
The tension broke when a dripping wet Graciela scampered up with her father in her wake. “I’m hungry! Where’s lunch?” With her dark hair whipping in the breeze and her eyes as round as a doll’s, the little girl was adorable.
Paige glanced at Gil. His harshness melted, and in that instant she saw a flash of tenderness. Averting his gaze quickly, he stiffened his shoulders.
The man really did want children. Sheila needed to quit pushing his buttons and let him know that he had nothing to fear.
While Sam took his daughter to the picnic basket, the Aaron family members politely brought Sheila up to date on their activities. No one invited her to sit down and eat with them, however.
Gil remained apart, arms folded. While it wasn’t Paige’s job to save their relationship nor had anyone appointed her protector of the Aarons, she did feel bad about contributing to the problem. Most important, there was something Sheila needed to hear.
Rising, she commandeered the smaller woman by touching her elbow. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but may I have a word?”
“Uh, okay.” After a moment’s hesitation, the blonde accompanied Paige closer to the roadway, at the edge of the sand. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you, Dr. Brennan. I wanted Gil to see what it’s like to have a real family gathering. You’re not mad, are you?”
SH Medical 08 - The Baby Dilemma Page 13