A Rare Chance

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A Rare Chance Page 12

by Carla Neggers


  She flipped her hair back. “I suppose that’s preferable to tracking down killers and whatnot in your former job. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “A word of advice, Ms. Starr. If I were you, I wouldn’t get between Cam Yeager and something he’s after. You’ll lose.”

  She swallowed, her throat tight, her heart pounding. But she’d learned to maintain an outward coolness despite any inner turmoil. “I hardly know the man.”

  “Right,” he said dubiously. As she retreated up the gravel path, he added, “I’ll be keeping a close eye on things tonight.”

  Gabriella resisted a parting comment. Pete Darrow would think what he wanted to think. The more she tried to steer him in another direction, the more defensive and less credible she sounded.

  As her father used to say, the more you stir it, the more it stinks.

  The fading evening light glistened on the water out beyond the rocks, the day’s dark clouds sweeping out to the horizon. She climbed the steps to the main deck, where guests wandered in and out from the adjoining dining room with wine and hors d’oeuvres. It was breezy and relatively warm for evening, comfortable outside for a change. The view, of course, was irresistible.

  An elegantly dressed Titus Reading came to greet Gabriella. Sipping a glass of wine, he fetched another one for her from a passing caterer. “I see you made it without any mishaps,” he said. “You’re looking awfully serious.”

  Lizzie was planning to get married this time. That was enough to occupy her thoughts, never mind that the groom was Joshua Reading—and never mind that she’d snuck a trespasser onto the premises.

  Gabriella manufactured a smile and sipped her wine. “Just distracted by the view. It actually feels like spring tonight.” She’d never been especially adept at small talk, and it rang false even to her own ears. “Lizzie’s here?”

  Titus nodded, not looking thrilled himself about how the evening was scheduled to unfold. “She helped put the evening together. She’s very good at that sort of thing. I don’t know her very well, but you two…” He shrugged, searching for the right words. “I wouldn’t have guessed you and she would be such good friends. But I suppose when you’ve known another person as long as you and Lizzie have, you’re bound to turn out differently. It’s not the same when you make a friend as an adult, or even as a teenager. You generally start out having more in common. But when you’re eight years old—well, who knows?”

  Gabriella wondered just what differences he saw between herself and Lizzie Fairfax and if they had anything to do with reality or if Lizzie was coming across as something she wasn’t.

  “Friendship sometimes defies logic,” she said lightly. “Lizzie and I have been through thick and thin. I haven’t seen much of her since she’s been back in Boston, but we’ve just picked up where we left off. Have you gotten to know her at all?”

  Titus didn’t answer at once as he drew Gabriella toward the balustrade, where the breeze caught her hair, almost relaxing her. “No, I haven’t,” he said finally, looking out at the water. “She and Joshua had been keeping largely to themselves—understandable, I suppose, given the circumstances. She seems very nice.”

  “She’s terrific. Really, you’ll see.”

  He smiled awkwardly. “I’m sure. Then you’re okay about this rushed engagement?”

  Gabriella shrugged and drank more of her wine. “It’ll take some getting used to, just because it’s happened so fast. I mean, two weeks…Well, I’m sure they’ll give themselves some time before the actual wedding. They’re just announcing their engagement. But if Lizzie and Joshua are happy, then yes, of course I’m fine.”

  “Well, so long as you’re okay.”

  Gabriella didn’t pursue the subject further. She had learned not to insert herself between Joshua and Titus Reading. As different as they were—in age, temperament, drive, experience—they were still family, and she, no matter how important she was to their company, wasn’t. She was scrupulous about not criticizing one brother to the other. One reason her relationship with the Reading brothers worked was that she never forgot she was the outsider.

  A change of subject, she decided, was in order, especially since Titus didn’t seem ready to move on to other guests. Darkness was coming on fast, making the rocks impenetrable silhouettes against the ocean and sky. If Cam was out there, he was on his own.

  “I saw Pete Darrow on my way in,” she said casually. “How’s he working out?”

  Titus turned back to her, visibly relieved that she hadn’t pressed him on just what he understood about her and Joshua. “Great, from what my brother tells me. He hasn’t done much for me. He did look around our place in the country and, of course, in town.” He and Joshua had sprawling apartments in one of their modern waterfront buildings, never mind TJR Associates’ quaint nineteenth-century headquarters. “Joshua’s very concerned about his personal safety right now. He’s been demanding, but he seems satisfied with Mr. Darrow’s work.”

  “He doesn’t miss the police department?”

  “He doesn’t seem to. I understand it can be difficult when a partner moves on, as his did.”

  She took a deliberate sip of her wine. “Oh?”

  Titus nodded easily, apparently assuming they were discussing something Gabriella must already know. “Cam Yeager managed to keep a low profile for quite some time, but now that he’s decided to move to the district attorney’s office—well, I suppose his family name will put him in the limelight.”

  Gabriella almost dropped her wine. “His family name? I don’t understand.”

  “Yeager?” Titus laughed at her mystification. “You grew up in Massachusetts, Gabriella. Surely you’ve heard of Governor Yeager.”

  Governor Yeager? Gabriella blinked, illumination coming slowly. “You mean Pete Darrow’s ex-partner’s father is a former governor?”

  “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. It’s one reason Darrow decided to leave. He knew that with Cam Yeager going into the D.A.’s office and possibly into politics, he himself was likely to be under greater scrutiny, by the press and Yeager’s enemies if no one else. He was convinced he would eventually not be able to do his job properly. It could all be in his imagination, but that’s what he told Joshua and me.”

  If Cam Yeager got himself trapped on the rocks tonight, Gabriella thought, she’d let the tide have him. Governor Yeager. The bastard could have told her. He was the son of a former governor.

  Obviously she should have investigated him as thoroughly as he had her.

  Of course, she’d been so preoccupied with Scag’s return, and then Lizzie’s affair with Joshua and her own troubles with Pete Darrow and, in a certain respect, Cam Yeager, that she’d avoided pushing for information. She’d buried herself in her work and tried not to get ahead of herself and ask questions she had no business asking—or maybe just didn’t want answered.

  “I should be seeing to the other guests,” Titus murmured politely.

  Gabriella nodded absently, staring out at the rocks. The son of a goddamned governor. She’d kissed him. She’d fantasized about going to bed with him.

  Had Scag realized who Cam Yeager was?

  Probably not, she decided. Bad enough he was a cop turned prosecutor, in her father’s book. Add a politician’s son to the mix and Scag would never have let him up on the roof a second time. Politicians had caused him more trouble during his years of travel than even law enforcement types.

  Gabriella forced herself to mingle. Most of the guests had gone inside, where a fire was crackling in the big stone fireplace, taking the damp chill out of the air. The decor was in colors of the sea: grays, blues, greens, whites. Caterers in black bottoms and white tops wove among the gathering of two dozen or so. Gabriella caught sight of Lizzie and Joshua in the adjoining living room.

  Lizzie smiled, beaming, and waved, immediately making her way into the huge, airy dining room. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, drawing Gabriella aside. “Isn’t this wonderful? God, I am so happy. I’ve alrea
dy called my parents, and they’re just thrilled. They’ve heard of TJR Associates, of course, and the terrific work they do, and Mother’s met Titus’s wife.”

  Gabriella smiled, some of her tension easing at her friend’s obvious happiness. “I’m glad for you, Lizzie.”

  “You are? Really, you are?” Worry etched in her brow, and she squeezed Gabriella’s elbow as if to communicate so much she couldn’t possibly say, not there in her fiancé’s house. “I know you must think—you know, here goes Lizzie again, falling for the first man she trips over, but that’s not how it is. Not this time.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” Gabriella said warmly. She didn’t mean that she didn’t need convincing, only that Lizzie shouldn’t feel compelled to convince her. She shouldn’t worry about what anyone else thought; she should want neither to shock nor to please, only to follow her own heart.

  Lizzie smiled, her green eyes sparkling. She wore diamonds in her ears, a dazzling turquoise dress—and a ring. An enormous diamond-and-sapphire engagement ring. Gabriella realized her engagement to Joshua Reading was now a fact, something she’d simply have to accept.

  “Sometimes I think I must be dreaming,” Lizzie said, “everything’s so perfect.”

  Nothing’s perfect, Gabriella wanted to say. Perfection isn’t human. It isn’t real. But having just learned that Cam Yeager didn’t fit in the tidy box she’d made for him, she could admit she wasn’t in the best of moods. She didn’t want her cynicism to spill over onto Lizzie’s happiness.

  “There is one thing,” Lizzie said suddenly, in a low voice.

  Gabriella felt an immediate concern for her friend. Lizzie Fairfax could be so damned vulnerable when she was in love, even when she was in love with her best friend’s boss. “What is it?”

  Lizzie glanced over her shoulder, giving vague smiles to guests whose eye she caught, then, apparently satisfied no one important was within earshot, said, “Please don’t tell Joshua or Titus about Scag, at least not yet. I know it’s bound to come out, but since I haven’t told Joshua, and here we’ve been—we’ve fallen in love—he could take it the wrong way, maybe think I was holding back. I don’t want anything to spoil what we have.”

  “Lizzie, I can’t imagine what difference it makes. He’s not your father. I know I promised Joshua and Titus that my relationship with Scag wouldn’t come back to haunt them, but I haven’t told them he’s in town because I really don’t know what to say, except he’s here for a visit. Things are too unsettled, and there’s no point borrowing trouble.”

  Lizzie’s fingers dug into Gabriella’s elbow, almost hurting. “Just hold off for a while, okay? I need to make sure Joshua understands that my loyalty to you and Scag doesn’t have anything to do with him. I mean, it’s not the same.”

  “Lizzie, I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.” Her relief was almost palpable, her grip on Gabriella loosening. “Come on, dinner’s just about ready to be served.”

  Gabriella abandoned any effort to talk to Lizzie in more depth about her relationship with Joshua Reading. It wasn’t the time or the place. But what the hell business was it of Joshua’s if Lizzie had helped Scag get to Boston?

  Seeing little other choice, Gabriella quashed her unsettled feelings about the evening, pinned a smile on her face, and followed her friend to the table.

  Ninety minutes later, she was among the first to duck out, just after dessert was served, declining an after-dinner drink. Joshua saw her to the door. “I don’t know how to thank you for bringing Lizzie and me together,” he said in a low voice. He looked slightly embarrassed at his obvious emotion. Everything about him suggested his love for Lizzie Fairfax was genuine.

  Gabriella smiled. “It was just one of those things that was meant to be, I suppose.”

  “Well, we’ll always be grateful. Thanks for coming tonight.”

  “My pleasure,” she murmured, and made a quick retreat.

  Even with the outdoor light, it was very dark in the parking area. Gabriella glanced around for Pete Darrow as she pulled on her car door, wondering just how Cam Yeager intended to find her. He could be one cocky SOB.

  The door was locked.

  She frowned. She hadn’t locked it. She never bothered locking her doors when out on Reading Point. There seemed no need. Digging out her key, she glanced at the back seat.

  Cam. He’d obviously reinserted himself under her fleece throw and locked himself in. Not even a toe was visible. Gabriella didn’t know how he’d done it. He was not a small man.

  He was also not a forthcoming one.

  “Governor’s son,” she muttered, unlocking her door.

  Once inside, she tossed her handbag in back, somewhere in the vicinity of his head. He cursed, barely stirring under the blanket. Such self-control. “Take out my eye, why don’t you?”

  It was a thought. But she feigned innocence. “Oh, are you back there?”

  “I thought it’d make things easier on your nerves if I was in place when you finished dinner.”

  She snorted, sounding more like her father than she would have cared to admit. “If you gave half a fig about my ‘nerves’ you’d have told me you were the son of the damned governor!”

  “Former governor,” he corrected, matter-of-fact.

  “I had to learn it from Titus Reading and stand there as if none of it had anything to do with me.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “I’ve a good mind,” she said through clenched teeth, “to stop right here and call Pete Darrow over.”

  “How’ll you explain having a governor’s son tucked in the back seat?”

  He was so irreverent. So damned sure of himself. But instead of irritating her, he intrigued her, something she found both unsettling and strangely exhilarating. Without further comment, she headed down the driveway and back out through the security gate. When she reached the main road, Cam climbed into the front seat, employing more grace than Gabriella would have thought possible given his thick, muscular build.

  “You should have told me,” she said as he situated himself beside her.

  “Right, and if I hadn’t done my research, you’d have told me all about your father and orchids and being shot in the ass by some crazy banana grower. And my father’s not the least bit relevant to this situation. Yours is.”

  Gabriella shook her head. “It seems to me your friendship with Pete Darrow had everything to do with why he resigned from the police department. So who you are—who your father is—is very relevant.”

  Cam was unrepentant. “Then I guess you should have done your research if you’d wanted to know.”

  “I never realized—it just never occurred to me that you were related to Tom Yeager. I was in college when he was governor, but I remember he was a sensible, low-key sort. He only served one term, didn’t he?”

  Cam nodded. “My mother got sick his last year in office. He decided not to run again so he could be with her. She hung in there for a while. She died about five years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabriella said, remembering her own mother’s early, unexpected death. Grief, knowing life was so short, had been a part of what had propelled her into life with Scag. What had it done to Cam?

  “She was a terrific woman,” he said. “She never liked me being a cop, but she didn’t give me a hard time about it. She and my father both believed in public service as a noble calling, a privilege. They never got cynical. Anyway, now my father teaches at the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard and plays golf.”

  “What does he think of your becoming a prosecutor?”

  Cam shrugged, settling back in his seat. “I didn’t ask and he didn’t say.”

  Gabriella wasn’t sure she liked having to reassess this man. He kept surprising her, refusing to be stereotyped.

  “Why did Titus mention my father?” he asked.

  She related their conversation and gave a quick summary of the evening: good food, friendly company, Jo
shua and Lizzie for all appearances deliriously happy. No serious trouble from Pete Darrow. When she’d finished, she glanced over at her passenger. “What about you? Any luck?”

  He shook his head. “Darrow knew I was out there. He managed to restrict my movements, but he never actually saw me.”

  “You didn’t find what you were looking for?”

  “No.”

  “Then you are looking for something. You’re not just spitting in the wind and seeing what happens.” But he said nothing. She sighed, turning on to Storrow Drive, intensely aware of him close beside her. “Well, at least you weren’t caught and you didn’t break a leg.”

  He grinned. “At least.”

  She made her way to lower Pinckney Street and dropped him off at his apartment. “I don’t suppose your father was a penniless politician,” she said as he started out of her car.

  He looked around at her, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light. “My great-grandfather escaped famine to come to this country. He got a job in the shipyards and believed in the values of scholarship, citizenship, and hard work. I would say my father and I are both direct beneficiaries of his vision—and his good fortune. But to answer your question, no, my father wasn’t a penniless politician.”

  “I was just curious.”

  Cam laughed, leaning back into the car toward her. “Thought you had me all figured out, didn’t you, Gabby?”

  Her face remained impassive only through sheer force of will. “It’s not a matter of having you figured out. It’s a matter of having all the facts.”

  “Bullshit. I think it’s a matter of you wanting to know everything about me there is to know.” He winked, irreverent as ever. “Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

  “You and I—perhaps we should stick to the problem of Pete Darrow and forget all this other stuff.”

  “You mean like what happened in your hall this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” she said primly, “like that.”

  With one hand, he trailed a finger along her jaw. “When you forget this afternoon, Gabby, you give me a call, okay?”

 

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