Magic Moment

by Adams, Angela

  Despite the churning in her stomach, Laura held her own with Saunders. “Are you saying my husband married me for my money?” she asked caustically. “I’m not exactly an heiress.”

  Saunders pursed his lips, then spoke. “What I’m trying to tell you is we’ve launched an investigation into Donovan business dealings. And your husband may have his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Isn’t it rather advantageous to suddenly marry a woman we bring in to help us gather evidence?”

  Kevin’s tone was even. “How about bringing evidence against Chase Donovan, rather than your speculation, to the table?”

  Saunders paid the attorney no mind, and continued. “Laura, how did you and Chase come to marry? Did you have some dates? Where did he take you? How long were you seeing each other? Whose idea was it to marry?”

  Laura remained quiet. Her brain beat against her temples.

  Saunders persisted. “You and Chase are both Catholic, right? No church. No priest. No fancy gown. Why not, Laura? Who put together your wedding?”

  Laura wasn’t surprised to know Saunders was aware of Chase’s religion, but hers? What else did the agent know about her? The sudden wedding? Did he know the idea belonged to Chase?

  She clutched her stomach.

  “Every woman wants the long walk up the aisle, her girlfriends as bridesmaids, right, Laura?” Saunders prodded.

  Her fingertips brushed her throbbing temples. “That never mattered to me,” she whispered.

  The agent went on. “You’re wearing jeans at your wedding, not even a dress.”

  Laura remained silent, feeling her insides knot. A cold sweat tickled her brow.

  Saunders snickered. “To top it off, you went and got yourself pregnant.”

  “You’re out of line,” Kevin said in the same tone of voice a television district attorney would call out, “objection.”

  Saunders ignored Kevin. “Laura, what do you intend to tell your kid about Mommy and Daddy’s wedding day?”

  She stared at the agent, the knot in her stomach crawling upwards. He made her relationship with Chase sound sneaky, dirty, and underhanded. “I need to use the ladies room. I feel sick.”

  She thought Saunders’ face held genuine concern as he spoke into the telephone speaker, calling for a woman named Judy. Judy, the woman who had brought in the folder, escorted Laura.

  The facilities were across the corridor from Saunders’ office. Laura declined Judy’s offer to stay, insisting she only needed a short break. The woman hesitated, but eventually left.

  Laura stood over the toilet, and eventually, the urge to vomit passed. She washed her hands and patted her face with cold water, the icy wetness a cooling relief.

  She understood Saunders’ insinuation. Whatever criminal Dick Donovan was a party to, Chase was also.

  Laura cringed. She hadn’t heard Dick’s end of the telephone conversation with Chase on Madre. That exchange had led to a marriage proposal.

  Being their bookkeeper, Laura hadn’t paid much attention to the relationship between Chase and his father. Not until her current state of affairs did she became aware of tension between them. That animosity apparently bore no interference where money was concerned. Or was their dissension a ploy for her benefit?

  If whatever criminal activity the Donovans were involved in was ready to surface, what better way for Chase to keep track of Laura’s visits to the FBI than by marrying her? Better yet, keep her away altogether with a boat ride down the Atlantic. The law stated a wife couldn’t testify against her husband, and Laura would never send her child’s father to prison.

  Chase was an attorney, a non-practicing one, but one nonetheless. He was aware of loopholes. What better insurance to keep Laura quiet than to be her child’s father? Hadn’t he continuously insisted she was aware of what the FBI wanted, but just couldn’t recall? He had been trying to get her to remember. She assumed to help her, but perhaps to help himself. She recalled Saunders prodding her into the back of a car. That was the kid, he had said referring to Chase. While Saunders had been watching Dick Donovan, had he kept his eyes on Chase, too?

  Perhaps Chase’s kindness was no coincidence. He was smart where women mattered, conscious of pushing their appropriate buttons. Laura had been vulnerable, and he pushed hers, making her depend on him. To even fall in love with him.

  Perhaps it wasn’t fate that had Chase showing up to save her. He had devised a way to silence her without killing her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chase tossed his long legs over the side of the bunk. He hadn’t slept during the night, but merely switched his stares from ceiling to wall. He was accustomed to a thicker, firmer mattress, and the narrow cot was missing the luscious body he had enjoyed holding against him. Until his wife, it had never occurred to Chase that a woman curled around him in sleep was so pleasant. He closed his eyes, feeling Laura’s soft, silky breast brush up against his arm, wishing she were real and not just a memory. Chase didn’t need to make love to his wife to be satisfied; feeling her sleeping pressed against him was just as gratifying.

  Ned’s accusations popped into his head. Disgusted and angry — additional reasons sleep had eluded him — he remembered why he had given up the law. One became suspicious of everything and everyone, even a wife he loved.

  Being the only prisoner in the cellblock did have some advantages. Hearing the clang of the steel door opening, Chase knew he was getting a visitor.

  Ned peered through the bars. “You gotta admit this sure ain’t the Four Seasons.”

  Chase stood up, stretched his arms overhead and eased out the kinks. He walked to the cell door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

  “You’re mighty comfortable,” Ned said with a dry grin. “Such a shame. They’re doing the paperwork to spring you.”

  “Laura?” Chase asked anxiously.

  Ned nodded. “She was here. Kevin Woolfe, the attorney I got her, told me she showed up with your marriage certificate, and a couple of photos.”

  “She met with Saunders? How’d it go?”

  “I wasn’t asked to sit in, and you know Kevin can’t discuss anything with me. You’ll have to talk to your wife. Your Aunt Lonnie’s with her,” Ned added.

  Relief flooded Chase; thank God for his aunt. “I hoped Laura wouldn’t travel alone.”

  “Listen, they couldn’t wait for you,” Ned said. “Laura felt sick with Saunders. Kevin said she was as white as a sheet.”

  Chase muttered a curse aimed at Saunders. “Did Aunt Lonnie take her to the hospital?”

  Ned waved the concern away. “Chase, I got kids, been through this three times. When women get pregnant, they eat, sleep, puke, and cry about their hormones. Laura’s fine.”

  Chase’s spirits perked. Yeah, Ned had been through this pregnant thing multiple times and with happy, healthy babies and a healthy wife being the result. What better person to ask for advice on mood swings, hormones, pregnancy sex … inquire delicately, of course. But this didn’t seem like the time or place. The conversation could wait until Chase was out of here and assured Laura was okay.

  “By the way, they’re at Laura’s condo,” Ned said. “You married a woman you’re barely acquainted with. Do you know where her condo is?”

  “The Square.” Laura had a condominium in the stylish Rittenhouse Square section of the city. “She gave me her key in case I planned to stay in Philly overnight. But Saunders took care of my lodgings.”

  “Detaining you, the interrogation, Saunders and his pompous routine was bull.” Ned’s lips twisted in a sneer. “Let me know if you want to file anything against the creep.”

  “This was more Saunders’ game playing, another fishing expedition.” Chase ached to put his arms around his wife. He never realized missing another human being hurt so much. “I’m too tired and hungry to figure out what’s going o
n at the warehouse, and I’m not putting Laura through any more stress.”

  Chase also wanted to get Laura back to Sea Tower before his father realized she was in Philadelphia.

  “Which by the way,” he began.

  “What?”

  “That bullshit last night about Laura being involved in my father’s nonsense, you’re wrong.” Chase stared without a flinch. “I know you were doing your job as my attorney, but I don’t want to hear that crap from my friend.”

  “I was looking out for your best interest. As your attorney and friend,” Ned added. “You seemed to consider my suggestions.”

  “I know my wife.” Laura involved in anything unlawful, that she had brought on her own violent attack, was outrageous. “It’s this damn, crazy place. Puts extreme thoughts in a person’s head.”

  “Regard the subject closed,” Ned said.

  “What time is it?”

  Ned glanced at his watch. “A little after six. You’ve been here almost twenty-four hours.”

  Chase considered another dilemma. His father, who was aware of his son’s file search, had returned to Philadelphia. If anyone had caught the scene with the two agents, and surely if Rachel knew, Dick was bound to get wind of his son’s arrest. Chase was certain that whatever he had hoped to find among the invoices was no longer there.

  • • •

  Lonnie stood at the foot of the bed holding a pack of crackers. “Try some of these.”

  Laura, her body curled in a spoon position on her mauve chenille bedspread, shook her head. Of all the ills she experienced so far with being pregnant, nausea hadn’t been one of them.

  Until Saunders.

  The overwhelming urge to heave lingered. Although she wasn’t quite sure Saunders was entirely to blame. She tried to shake the feeling, the nagging instinct refused to go away. Could Chase be involved in criminal activities? And his attention and concern for her a ploy?

  “Are you sure I can’t bring you tea?” Lonnie asked. “I noticed you have blueberry in the cabinet.”

  Laura shook her head at the woman’s umpteenth offering. Nothing Lonnie suggested made her feel better, leaving Lonnie feeling helpless and Laura feeling guilt-ridden.

  “Thanks, Aunt Lonnie. You’re the greatest.” Laura managed a tender smile. “I can see why Chase loves you so much.”

  “When it comes to my nephew, the feeling is mutual.”

  Laura relaxed back into the pillow. “Sit with me?”

  Lonnie sat on the bed’s edge and took Laura’s hand. “Do you want to tell me what that agent man said to upset you?”

  Laura let out an exhausted breath. “Where should I start?”

  “You pay these people no mind. They play head games.”

  “Chase said something to that affect.”

  “Whenever Chase has something intelligent to say, he takes after his mother’s family. Remember that.” She patted Laura’s hand.

  “Aunt Lonnie, Saunders implied Chase is involved in something illegal with his father,” Laura said softly. “That he married me to keep me from testifying against him.”

  The words poured out. How Laura and Chase came together, their decision to be husband and wife. Relief gushed through Laura as she detailed her initial meeting with the FBI, her resignation from The Produce Market and all that had followed. Lonnie listened with quiet patience, alternating between patting and rubbing the back of Laura’s hand tenderly.

  “Chase told me while we shared my whiskey. I didn’t let on because I wanted you to tell me when you were ready.” Lonnie’s features echoed sympathy. “Laura, I can’t even begin to imagine how terrified you were on that boat.”

  “If not for Chase,” Laura took a deep breath and choked back tears. “I can’t believe he was all an act.” She paused. “Or maybe I don’t want to believe.”

  “What exactly did Saunders say?” Lonnie asked.

  Laura repeated her earlier conversation with the agent. When finished, she felt drained. “Kevin Woolfe seemed to agree,” she said. “His face gave him away. He and Sanders. They’re both suspicious of Chase’s motives for our marriage.”

  Lonnie clutched Laura’s hand. “They don’t know the whole story. When Saunders asked how you and Chase came to be married, what did you tell him?”

  “I felt sick and asked to leave. I didn’t want to tell him about Mr. Donovan arranging my ride from the warehouse, what happened on the boat.” Apprehension returned. “They already had Chase locked up. I didn’t want to add fuel to Saunders’ fire.”

  Lonnie’s voice was strong. “The idea that my nephew is doing anything criminal, I can guarantee, is the most absurd thing ever suggested.”

  “But why is Chase protecting his father? I don’t understand their relationship. They’re not like any father and son I know.”

  “Chase reacts to his own guilt,” Lonnie said. “He feels guilty because he doesn’t like his father. One minute he’ll call Dick all kinds of vile names, deservingly so. The next minute Chase feels remorse, and he goes out of his way to make it up to the old coot.”

  “What about all the assets being in both names?” Laura asked. “Everything is either in the name of the business or owned jointly by Chase and his father.”

  “Probably so if one of them dies, and my preference is Dick go sooner than later, the survivor doesn’t have to pay an inheritance tax.”

  Laura was a bookkeeper with a shrewd proprietor for a boss. She should have deduced his motives.

  “I wonder if Chase knows this, that his father owns the boat with him,” Laura mused aloud.

  “Maybe not.” Lonnie’s expression was half smile, half frown. “I love my nephew but his comprehension of anything having to do with money, is that it should be there when he wants it.”

  Laura silently recalled Chase on their wedding day. He had been determined they would marry that day. With everyone, from the lab tech who drew their blood to the jeweler who sized their rings, Chase had generously tossed whatever cash had been needed to ensure he got what he wanted.

  “Chase sometimes pretends his father is a nice man,” Lonnie added. “Then an incident occurs like what happened to you, and he struggles to admit Dick Donovan is plain no good.”

  “Saunders was so convincing.”

  “That’s his job.” Lonnie’s voice was warm. “Laura, any difficulties you and Chase have, I know you can work out for yourselves.” Her eyes twinkled like Chase’s when he was in high spirits. “I have to tell you. You bring out a side of my nephew that warms my heart.”

  Lonnie paused. When she started to speak again, her voice held a twinge of sadness. “Sometimes watching Chase grow up was heartbreaking. He so much wanted a real father, a father who was patient, loving, a man he could be proud of and who would be proud of him.”

  Her tone grew bitter. “Instead Chase got Dick Donovan, who is intolerant, indifferent, and all-around narcissistic. When Chase was about ten, he started bringing home stray dogs. Dogs that were malnourished, a couple were notably abused. Chase was so gentle and tender with each dog. Feeding it, promising that everything was going to be all right. The dog had a home now. Chase was so happy he was saving the dog.”

  Lonnie was quiet, no doubt remembering the past, then pursed her lips. “Dick would come home from who knows where. The warehouse. Some business trip that I sometimes wondered if the trip was really about business. Not even noticing or caring that Chase had love invested in the dog. That bastard would grab the dog, insist there was no place in their lives for a filthy mutt, and cart the dog away. Chase would cry for days.”

  Laura felt compassion for the sensitive child who’d become attached to another living creature only to have the dog taken from him.

  “Then Chase would find another dog,” Lonnie went on. “Take it home as if his father’s reaction
to the previous one hadn’t happened. Dick would take that one, too. Dick had taken three dogs before Chase realized his father’s actions weren’t going to change.”

  Lonnie shook her head as if the motion would shake away the dreadful memories. “Chase would sometimes idealize his father, almost in total denial of Dick‘s lousy character. Watching that boy deceive himself … ” She paused then smiled. “When Chase is with you, Laura, he doesn’t pretend he’s happy. He is.”

  Laura was afraid … for herself and for Chase. Was he so desperate for his father’s affection that he would cover up Dick Donovan’s crimes or even be a part of them?

  “Aunt Lonnie, I have so much to sort out. When Chase gets here, please tell him I’m asleep. I don’t know what to say. Or what I’m feeling. Until I do, I’m afraid to see him.”

  • • •

  Chase’s BMW had been seized as evidence. He suspected Saunders’ cockamamie arrest had actually been a ploy from the beginning, just an excuse to search the car. Chase smiled as visions of an angry and frustrated Saunders, discovering the car was clean, pranced before his eyes. Once the charges against Chase had been dropped, the car was released to him.

  Darkness had fallen long ago, and he noted the time on the dashboard clock. His first stop was the condo, to check on Laura, and give her a gigantic hug, then head to the warehouse for a showdown with his father. A perturbed feeling inched through Chase. Recent events had him anxious for that go-around. Dick Donovan’s plane had landed about an hour ago, and Chase knew the first stop would be the warehouse. Dick lived for the place.

  He drove the BMW downward into the condominium complex’s underground garage. Laura had an assigned parking spot, B17, her unit’s number. Since she didn’t have a car, she had told him to finally put the long-vacant spot to use. He introduced himself to the attendant at the garage window, and pointed out the BMW. The elderly man, with sparse white hair and thick black-rimmed glasses, congratulated Chase on his marriage. Laura was a sweetheart, the man insisted, and Chase was a lucky man.