McCord spoke to the man seated beside him. "Look, I don't know what this is all about, but I'm willing to go see Tysinger if you'll just drop my wife and son off at home."
Why did he insist on their marital relationship? Other than a rather bizarre insistence on claiming a stranger to be his wife, the man appeared strikingly normal. Ordinarily Ashley would have considered him a man who could be depended upon in any situation. She wouldn't feel in the least unsure of his ability to cope if he'd just drop the myth of their relationship. So he had made a mistake. No one was perfect. Why didn't he just admit it and get her out of this mess?
Wilson's tone reflected an unexpected apology. "I'm sorry about all of this, McCord. But the invitation was for you and your wife. Tysinger insisted on that. I'm sure this whole thing is some kind of misunderstanding he'll clear up when you see him." He drew a once white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped away the beads of perspiration glistening on his forehead. The day wasn't particularly warm.
Ashley leaned forward. "Are you talking about Virgil Tysinger, the state representative?"
Wilson nodded with unfeigned eagerness to make amends. "That's right."
"Is this some new type of campaign strategy, dragging people off the streets for a meal? Because if it is, someone should convince him there are more subtle methods for getting reelected."
McCord covered a sudden chuckle with a cough, as Wilson's flushed face turned a darker hue.
"Miz McCord, I'm sure Mr. Tysinger will be able to explain everything once we get there."
"Get where, Mr. Wilson?" Ashley's tone was deceptively gentle.
"Huh?"
"Get where, Mr. Wilson?" she repeated even more gently. "Where are you taking us?" Anyone who knew Ashley would have recognized the tone that denoted a slow rage building. Unfortunately, Wilson accepted the sweetness at its face value.
"Oh! Well, Mr. Tysinger thought you'd like to visit his mountain retreat in the Cascades. He's got a real nice place and tries to spend as much of his free time there as possible." Wilson's premature smile of relief disappeared with Ashley's next comment.
"Mr. Wilson, what you have just done constitutes kidnapping, and state representative or not, Virgil Tysinger is an accessory. Kidnapping is a federal offense, Mr. Wilson. If you're ever going to have an original thought in your head, I strongly advise you to have it now and not leave the city limits of Portland with us in this car. Federal prisons are not known for their hospitality." Her tone stayed soft, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was furious.
Turning to glare at the man sitting next to her, Ashley said in the same tone, "Would you care to explain to me why you've insisted that I am your wife?"
McCord's eyes glinted in the afternoon light. "Well, for one thing, it proves Josh's legitimacy."
"Are you trying to be funny?" she demanded.
"Not particularly. I just don't know any other way to answer your question."
"My question is not that difficult, Mr. McCord. But let me rephrase it for you. I"—she pointed with some gravity to herself—"am not married. Nor do I have any children. Why, then, are you insisting that I am married to you, and that this baby is ours?"
McCord studied the young woman seated by his side. So what do you do now, McCord? You and your sudden impulse to help others seems to have backfired.
His gaze took in Ashley's large, luminous eyes, the softness of a mouth that managed to portray sensitivity even when clamped in anger, and the cinnamon hair that fell in waves from a central part to frame her face. She ignored his inspection as he took in her tailored suit and the curving shape it covered. McCord fell back on a habit that had worked well for him in the past. If you don't know what to say to them, kiss 'em. So he did.
His movement caught her off guard and she froze as his mouth moved across hers in a warm caress. The baby in her arms prevented her from resisting the sudden move. However, the unexpectedness of the kiss wasn't the only thing that startled her into immobility. What caught Ashley completely off guard was the sudden burst of intense feeling generated within her when McCord moved his mouth lazily across hers. The kiss was almost playful—an exploration of possible joys to be found, a willingness to indulge in a get-acquainted meeting. Then his mouth settled more firmly against hers, his tongue flicking across her bottom lip in an audacious search for intimacy. Had the sensation he created not been so enticing, Ashley would have described it as almost an electrical shock, or something like the static shock one got from walking across carpeting and then touching metal. Her eyes fluttered closed in an unconscious effort to recognize and identify the reaction caused by the kiss.
Once again the technique worked for McCord. Ashley forgot her question. In fact, for a short while she forgot that she was in a large automobile with several strangers, being whisked to some unknown destination for unspecified purposes. The question that surfaced after a brief spell was even more pressing. Who is this man and how can he have such an effect on me?
There was no way of knowing how long Ashley would have sat there contemplating the newest discovery she'd made about herself if nature hadn't suddenly taken over. Her small charge had managed to drain his bottle and then thoroughly soak through his diaper. Ashley looked at McCord with a hint of panic in her eyes. She leaned over and spoke in a low tone. "He's wet."
McCord glanced past Ashley to the expanse of velour cushion between her and the door. "You've got room to change him, haven't you?"
Fighting to maintain her decorum, Ashley responded through clenched teeth. "He's your baby. You change him!"
McCord's grin was the first Ashley had seen since she'd walked up to the elevators. Only by relaxing did McCord give away how tense he'd been. For some reason her reaction to the baby's condition amused him. His amusement increased her disgust. He reached into the bag and brought out a disposable diaper while Ashley sat there, a most unfeminine glare on her face. She stared at the disposable diaper, then at him, and at last down at the helpless infant. What was she doing here? She wouldn't even have recognized a disposable diaper if she hadn't seen them advertised on television. Josh gazed up at her with trusting blue eyes and popped two middle fingers into his mouth as he waited with infinite patience for her help.
Setting her jaw, she snatched the offending object from McCord's grasp. Turning to the innocent baby, she mentally apologized for being so personal on such short acquaintance and managed to secure the dry diaper on him without undue awkwardness.
Baby care was not part of the law school curriculum. Just wait until she had an opportunity to give this arrogant example of macho manhood her views of the male population in general and of him in particular.
Ashley picked up the baby and laid him with some trepidation against her shoulder. Would he be willing to be this close to her? Obviously so, because he snuggled his face into her neck and relaxed. So this mixture of delicately scented powder and warm body was a baby. Such a trusting scrap of humanity. Dry clothes, full tummy, and a shoulder to sleep on—he really didn't ask for much, but she knew from her moment of panic that she'd reached her limits of adaptability. Whether he liked it or not, McCord was going to have to take over the role of parent when the baby awakened.
More than an hour had gone by since they'd left downtown Portland. They were already on the winding mountain roads, and Ashley had no idea when they'd left the main highway—her thoughts had kept her preoccupied. At the moment she conceded that she had no option but to wait until they reached Tysinger. She began to rehearse what she'd say to the man. She was determined to get back to Portland immediately, his dinner plans notwithstanding.
Her thoughts returned to Tasha and she stiffened. The thought of what she'd find when she finally managed to reach home made her shudder.
It was almost enough to make her wish she'd stayed in Texas.
Chapter Two
After they had bounced over miles of jarring roads that grew worse the higher they climbed, their automobile made a sharp turn and
came to an abrupt halt in a clearing. Ashley and Josh would have been thrown forward if McCord's quick reflexes hadn't stopped them.
Ashley could see no sign of a dwelling but stepped out when the door next to her opened. McCord was right behind her, his hand resting in the small of her back. A trail disappeared around a turn at the edge of the clearing, and Wilson motioned to them to follow the men into the woods. Ashley glanced down at her shoes and shook her head. She'd be lucky not to sprain an ankle, or worse. She tried not to think about it as McCord's arm came around her waist for support. She wasn't ready to ignore his help as they followed their escorts up a steep grade.
When they reached the top of the ridge, Ashley caught her breath. On the other side the ground dropped abruptly a few hundred feet to a large lake that reflected a gleaming Mount Hood, etched in pink by the setting sun. A cedar-shake house sat on the lip of the ridge, a deck curving out over the abrupt drop. The view was spectacular.
Their guides waited with obvious impatience at the top of steps leading to a double door into the house. Be it ever so humble, Ashley thought with a touch of whimsy. The home would not have looked out of place nestled in the exclusive west hills of Portland.
The inside more than lived up to the promise of the outside. The entire east wall of the large area they entered was glass, so that Mount Hood appeared to be part of the room. Ashley drifted across the room full of lengthening shadows, mesmerized by the glowing mountain.
A voice from the gloom startled her and she spun around, a move that woke the baby.
"Glad you could make it this evening. I'm Virgil Tysinger." A trim man of medium height came toward them. The fading sunlight barely touched his face. He moved toward McCord with his right hand outstretched. McCord stood there staring at him without expression. Tysinger's arm dropped to his side.
McCord's voice sounded harsh after Tysinger's mellow tones. "Do you want to explain the purpose of this abduction?"
Tysinger winced. "Abduction? Good God, man, what did that idiot say to give you that idea?"
"I don't remember the exact phrases. But when two more of your men added their persuasion, I decided I'd rather not have my wife and son upset."
There he goes again. We're going to play this little melodrama out to its bitter end, it seems.
McCord continued. "I was alone when he came to my office and insisted that my wife was there somewhere. He also insisted that she be brought along. 'Abducted' pretty well describes that sort of behavior, wouldn't you say?" McCord stood with legs slightly apart, balanced on the balls of his feet, his hands resting at his waist. The word formidable flashed through Ashley's mind.
Tysinger attempted a laugh that didn't quite come off. "Don't be absurd. Perhaps he was a little over-zealous in making my wishes known to you. I don't hire men for their gifts of perception and subtlety." He leaned over and turned on a lamp sitting on a small table. "But you see, Raul, I could never reach you by phone, you never would return my calls, and it was important that I speak with you before you left town today. Really important." The smile on his face did not reach his dark eyes. They were wary, watching for a reaction.
McCord's smile wasn't pleasant. "Then you've wasted your time and ours, Tysinger. I'm not Raul."
Tysinger gave a start. "You aren't Raul McCord?" He glanced from McCord to Ashley, then back to McCord, and smiled. "Nice try, McCord. I almost believed you, but you've been described to me." Tysinger wasn't as comfortable as he wanted them to believe. Ashley wondered if she would ever learn what was going on!
"What's that supposed to mean?" McCord strolled to one end of the room, then turned to face Tysinger. "Anyone fitting my general description has to be Raul? What's got you so uptight, Tysinger, that you start breaking some of the laws you've sworn to protect?"
Ashley watched the two men as they faced each other. Tysinger's uneasiness began to register on his face as he stared at the younger man. He seemed to take a firm grip on his temper, and his voice assumed a charming tone as he gestured to Ashley. "I invited you and your wife here, McCord, to give us all a chance to get acquainted. I want to have the opportunity to sit down with both of you and discuss your activities these last few months."
Activities? What were they supposed to have done?
"I admire your enthusiasm and your idealism, but I think you're a little misguided at the moment. I just don't want to see you rushing off with a bunch of misleading information that won't do anybody any good and could do a great deal of harm." He became more relaxed as his explanation proceeded. Ashley got the feeling that his speech had been rehearsed for just such an occasion.
"Mr. Tysinger." Ashley spoke for the first time since she'd entered the room. "I'm not quite sure how I got involved in this, but I have no idea what it's all about." She gave him her most winning smile. "I don't even know Mr. McCord. I just want to go home."
Tysinger listened to her with astonishment. When she finished he looked at McCord, then back at Ashley. "You're both good, I'll give you that. But then I already knew you were." What was that supposed to mean? "All right, so this is just a case of mistaken identity, is that it? Then who are you?" He waited for her response, a polite smile hovering at the edges of his thin lips.
Feeling more confident, Ashley introduced herself. "My name is Ashley Allison. I'm with the law firm of Begley, Henderson & Howe in Portland."
There was a flash of recognition on Tysinger's face; then it was gone. "Begley, Henderson & Howe. That's very interesting, Ms. Allison. You say you don't know Mr. McCord?"
She glanced over at McCord, whose intent expression indicated that he was most interested in her answer. She shook her head. "No. I've never seen him before today."
"Tell me, Ms. Allison," Tysinger asked in a satin tone, "do you usually take a baby to work with you?" His tone continued to be polite, but the smile became more of a sneer.
Ashley had gotten so accustomed to holding the baby in her arms that she'd momentarily forgotten him. She glanced down as though astounded to find him there. "Oh. Well, you see, Mr. McCord handed him to me when I got on the elevator."
"Why did he do that, Ms. Allison?"
"I haven't the faintest idea."
Tysinger stared at McCord a moment. "Perhaps you can clarify all of this, McCord."
McCord glanced at Tysinger, then at Ashley. He was quiet as he looked at the baby, who watched him with wide-eyed wonder. Shaking his head, McCord assumed a grave expression. "My wife is still not fully recovered from Josh's birth. It was a very difficult time for her and the family has been doing what it can to help her." He walked over to Ashley and placed his arm about her shoulders. "This type of incident certainly doesn't help her to deal with everything. Her weakened physical state has created some emotional problems, but nothing that can't be overcome." He smiled down at her, the picture of loving concern.
At that moment Ashley had no problem being the bewildered wife. Stunned would be a better description. Instead of explaining what sort of game he'd been playing, he'd taken the charade one step further. Not only was this man still insisting she was his wife, she had just discovered she was in delicate health. If she weren't so blasted tired at the moment she would have laughed. Her delicate? Her stamina had been the joke of the family for years.
Another lamp flicked on in the corner, drawing Ashley's attention away from the confrontation. She noticed a woman moving about the room, adjusting lights and shades. A rust carpet came into view, and the remaining walls, paneled in knotty pine, glinted in the lamplight.
Tysinger saw Ashley watching the other woman. "Pardon me, I neglected to introduce Mrs. Krueger. She and her husband live up here year 'round. They take care of the place for me." He turned to the other woman. "Mrs. Krueger, this is Mr. and Mrs. McCord and their young son." The woman nodded her head in silence. "Why don't you show Mrs. McCord to the guest room? Perhaps she would like to freshen up before dinner." Turning back to Ashley he continued, his charm back in place. "If there's anything you need for the b
aby, I'm sure Mrs. Krueger will be able to help you. She's raised several of her own."
Ashley followed Mrs. Krueger out of the room, down a short hallway and into a large bedroom that also had a glass wall on its east side. I'll bet the sunrises are spectacular in this place.
Mrs. Krueger gestured to a door on the other side of a large bed. "There's a private bath attached to this room. Mr. Tysinger's room has one too, and my husband and I have our own apartment downstairs."
Puzzled, Ashley asked, "Downstairs? I thought this was a single-level house."
Mrs. Krueger's eyes crinkled mischievously, giving her face a gamine appearance. "Oh, no," she said. "This place is built along the side of a ridge and goes down two stories on the east side. We like it. It gives us our privacy when Mr. Tysinger entertains guests."
Mrs. Krueger smiled with obvious pleasure at the baby watching her from the security of Ashley's shoulder. "Would you like me to take your bright-eyed young man? He hasn't taken his eyes off me since we came in here." She stroked beneath Josh's chin so that he gave a quick kick that almost caused Ashley to drop him. She wasn't used to his sudden movements.
Mrs. Krueger asked a natural question that sent Ashley into a panic. "How old is he?"
Ashley gazed at her, trying to decide how to answer. Should she be coy and ask, "How old do you think he is?" or try to guess? For the first time since she'd laid eyes on him, Ashley was glad to see McCord walk into the room. The lopsided grin acknowledged Ashley's dilemma as he commented, "He'll be four months old next week, won't he, love?"
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