Private Lives

by Karen Young

“Using my pen? My outdated pen?” Steele made a sound, something between a laugh and a snort and reclaimed it. “What else do you have?”

  “This is amazing,” Elizabeth said with an admiring look at Lindsay. “How did you do it?”

  Lindsay grinned. “Wait, I’m not through.”

  “The out-of-order Erica,” Megan guessed.

  “Yep. Erica Johns was the homecoming queen the year that Austin graduated from high school. She was his date for the prom and instead of enjoying a late-night breakfast at some spiffy hotel in Houston, she spent the night in the emergency room at a hospital after he roughed her up. My source said gossip has it that he raped her and she’s almost certain the hospital was Hermann.”

  “Another sealed document?” Elizabeth said in disgust.

  “Probably. But the hospital’s records might not be so secure.” Lindsay looked at Megan. “What you could do in your spare time, Meggie—” she grinned at Megan’s expression “—is to dig through the records at Hermann. If Austin’s thirty-four now, it would have been sixteen or seventeen years ago that he graduated from high school. Would those records be accessible?”

  “I’m not sure.” Megan took the scrap of paper that Steele handed her with Erica Johns’s name and the date of the incident written on it. “I’ll give it a shot.” She glanced up, her face unusually animated. “So to speak.”

  They were all getting a little punch-drunk at the thought of bringing Austin down, Elizabeth thought. She glanced around the table, looking at the faces of her sisters and felt kinship, not resentment. The defenses that for years she’d been so careful to keep intact were slowly but surely being undermined. How had it happened? The changes that she’d resisted so long were upon her whether she was ready or not.

  “She begins to get next to you after a while, doesn’t she?”

  Ryan turned from a deep study of Liz and met the smile in Louie’s eyes. What had he given away by the look on his face? “Which one?” he asked.

  Louie chuckled softly. “Oh, I think we both know which one. She has a very complex personality, Liz. She won’t be easy to win—” he paused and looked deliberately at Ryan “—even without the complicated history that exists between the two of you.”

  “What history? I had never met her until Gina’s court hearing.”

  “The history linking your father and hers, son. You told me yourself you blame Matthew Walker for the death of your dad. That’s a serious charge and an even more dangerous secret to keep from Liz if you plan to act on what you’re feeling for her.”

  “I don’t have a clue as to what I feel for her, Louie.”

  Louie chuckled again. “I think you do have a clue and that’s what’s bugging you. You’re not sure you can walk away from Liz once you’ve got her where you want her. Isn’t that the way you’ve handled all your women since you divorced Jenny’s mother?”

  “Diane had an affair,” Ryan said, sounding defensive in spite of the rightness of his behavior then. “Divorce was inevitable. Hell, she was married again within six weeks of the date it was final.”

  “I guess you showed her.”

  “Yeah.” There was silence as the two men mulled over private thoughts. Then their eyes met and both laughed. “You’re right. Wounded male pride played a big part in making me push for the divorce, although I didn’t admit it then.”

  “Understandable.”

  “I think Diane regretted the affair and probably wanted to stay married.” Ryan’s gaze strayed to Jen, half child, half woman, now passing around napkins to the group on the patio. “It’s only recently that I’ve come to see the damage done when a couple splits. A kid’s loyalties are divided, discipline goes by the board, there’s chaos all around. It’s Jennifer more than Diane or me who became the victim.”

  “Live and learn, I reckon.” There was no malice, but just what seemed shared sympathy from Louie.

  “It’s too late to change things back to the way they were,” Ryan said, adding, “Even if I wanted to. Diane’s second marriage broke up after a couple of years and now she’s ready to take the plunge with a new guy.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Jen says he’s bald and old and she doesn’t know what her mom sees in him. He’s forty-five, Louie.”

  “And you’re what, thirty-five, six?”

  “Close. I’m thirty-seven.”

  “Huh. Eight years to go before you get old, eh?” He was still smiling. Both men watched as Jennifer left the patio and headed toward Jesse and Cody carrying two small boxes of juice. “Jen’s been a godsend for Jesse,” Louie said. “Instead of making a fuss over the fact that the little one won’t talk, Jen acts like it’s the most normal state of affairs. She’s one sweet little girl, your Jennifer.”

  “Yeah, but I sure can’t take the credit. I haven’t always been a good father. You’d think that being deprived of a dad myself, I would have made a better effort to see that Jen had everything I missed.” He had been uncomfortably aware of his shortcomings as he’d watched Liz fret over Jesse since Gina died. He should have blocked Diane from moving to Dallas after the divorce. He should have insisted on being a real father, sharing in Jen’s life far more than he had. Those years and that opportunity were lost to him now, but he planned to make the most of the time they had left before his daughter went off to college. And he was going to do his dead-level best to see that the outcome for Jesse was safe, secure and happy.

  “You wouldn’t be the first father in the world who didn’t measure up,” Louie said with a look toward the group on the patio that Ryan couldn’t read. “Take my advice and make the most of the time you’ve got with your daughter.”

  “Am I hearing the voice of experience?”

  “Experience?” Louie looked at him. “You’re asking if I’ve ever been a father? The answer is no…not in the real sense of the word.”

  Depends what the meaning of no is. Louie’s reply was no more enlightening than the famous line by a former president. The old guy might be retired, but once a lawyer, always a lawyer. “Sorry,” Ryan said. “I didn’t mean to get personal.”

  Louie gave a crack of a laugh. “Hell, son, this is about as personal a conversation as two men ever get. You’ve just told me some pretty strong stuff about yourself. I guess I can do the same.”

  Ryan had been waiting for the right moment to satisfy his curiosity about Louie Christian ever since that first day when they’d talked here in Liz’s backyard. The man had a past that would be helpful to Ryan in trying to straighten out the mystery of his dad’s death. He just hadn’t figured out how to go about enlisting Louie’s help. Except for the brief facts he’d offered then, the older man seemed to shy away from any questions about that time. Was this the right time? Rather than say the wrong thing and have Louie clam up again, he kept his mouth shut and waited.

  There was no humor left in Louie’s voice when he spoke. “I once was a father, but a damned piss-poor one. Oh, I didn’t get a divorce and I didn’t do the stuff we’re thinking Austin Leggett has done, but I failed in other ways and the failure was just as catastrophic.”

  Ryan noted the older man’s unsteady hands as he braced himself to get to his feet. Concerned, Ryan started to rise, but Louie made a grunt of a sound and gestured to keep him in his seat. Walking to the edge of the gazebo, he leaned both arms on the railing and looked out across the lawn where the three women and Steele sat discussing Austin’s downfall. His voice had a rough edge when he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about what to tell you, Ryan. And I’m not talking about myself now and my shortcomings as a father. First of all, I owe you. You’ve been generous about letting Jennifer help out here and I know you’re going to help Liz.” His gaze had moved to the children where Jennifer supervised Jesse and Cody throwing the Frisbee to an ecstatic Archie.

  “You don’t owe me, Louie. I’m righting a wrong in seeing that Liz gets custody of Jesse. I let my own personal prejudice get in the way of my objectivity. I have an obligation to fix it.”

>   “We’ll talk about that, too,” Louie said, rubbing at his beard. “But first—”

  “Is this about Matthew Walker?”

  Louie turned, giving him a surprised look. “What makes you ask that?”

  Ryan raised a shoulder. “It just makes sense. You’ve admitted you knew my dad and we know he was a colleague of Judge Walker’s. I’ve been thinking you probably knew Walker, too.”

  Louie went back to the glider and, with a creak of arthritic knees, sat back down. “Yeah, I knew him, son. And it’s been worrying me that you believe he had something to do with your father’s suicide. I hope you won’t insist on worming the details out of me, but I can put your mind at rest about a couple of things. Of course, you’ll have to take me at my word. No way to confirm what I’m about to say.”

  “I don’t believe you’d lie to me about something like this, Louie.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve lied before and I’ll probably burn in hell for it, but what I’m about to say is the God’s truth. Matthew Walker didn’t have anything to do with John Paxton’s death. And your dad didn’t commit suicide, son. He was murdered.”

  Ryan focused on his hands clasped between his knees. Here it was. Confirmation of a suspicion that had been in the back of his mind a long time. He turned the idea over and over as a multitude of chaotic emotions tumbled around inside him. Relief. Confusion. Disbelief. Rage. And a thousand questions.

  He turned his head to look at Louie. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re not going to tell me how you know this for a fact.”

  “What you should do is concentrate on your life now, son. It should give you some peace of mind to know your dad didn’t abandon you and your mother. I knew Elaine Paxton, too. She was a brave, beautiful woman, a wife any man would be proud to have. Her illness was tragic. John never would have taken the coward’s way out and left her, not to mention abandon his son.”

  “You’re positive about this?”

  “That he was murdered? I swear it on my own wife’s grave.”

  Ryan believed him. He knew he wouldn’t get anything more out of Louie at the moment, but he didn’t have any intention of giving up. Still, there had been something else Louie had mentioned. “What else was it you wanted to tell me?”

  “Well, I guess it’s advice. Not that I’ve got any right giving advice, but I’ve never stopped buttin’ in when I’ve got an opinion. It’s about Liz.”

  Ryan grunted but said nothing.

  “You’re not denying you have special feelings for Liz, are you?”

  Ryan’s mouth hiked up at one corner. “What you should do is concentrate on your own business, old man.”

  Louie rubbed at the smile on his face. “Guess I asked for that. But I’m serious when I tell you that Liz isn’t going to like being surprised. You better tell her about your dad and hers before you get much more involved.”

  “Yes, Father.” Grinning, Ryan stood up. Louie hit the nail on the head in guessing his attraction to Liz. His obligation to right the wrong done to Jesse wasn’t the reason he found himself at Liz’s house so often lately. It was Liz herself.

  “One more thing,” Louie said as Ryan stepped down out of the gazebo. Ryan turned, looking back over his shoulder. “I have some old files that might interest you about the cases on John Paxton’s docket when he was killed. You can drop by to look at them later tonight.” He gave a gentle shove with his foot and set the glider in motion. “That is, if you were planning to ignore my advice about getting on with your life.”

  “I’ll be there.” Ryan walked off, shaking his head and regretting he’d never get a chance to see Louie Christian in action in the courtroom. He would have been a worthy adversary.

  Twenty-Two

  The hours Elizabeth spent writing stories for children had always been her greatest source of pleasure and escape. Survival during her childhood had fueled her rich imagination. Long nights of fear were the fertile ground to grow characters who overcame great odds. The pain of being shunted off to yet another foster family produced plots where rejection grew into strength.

  After she’d escaped the prison of state bureaucracy, she’d learned to her delight that it was possible to live in the adult world without giving up the fantasies of her childhood. Publishers paid for her stories. And the value they paid her in dollars didn’t begin to match what the writing of them gave Elizabeth. From time to time, Gina and her turbulent life were a distraction, but not even that robbed Elizabeth of the magical escape to be found in weaving tales for children.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t working lately.

  She’d been at her computer for a couple of hours since her guests had departed and nothing had been produced that Jesse couldn’t have done. With a sigh, she closed down her computer and went to check on Jesse.

  Jesse. Was she the problem? For the past hour or so, she’d been in the den playing with Cody. The quiet was disconcerting to Elizabeth. The little boy had never been a chatterbox and Jesse’s muteness was not the magic that turned him into one. Consequently, they played in an eerie silence. Watching them, she thought they didn’t seem hampered by not talking, but communication among children wasn’t always done with words. Something adults might note, Elizabeth thought dryly.

  No, it wasn’t Jesse. Having the gift of Jesse bestowed on her so unexpectedly was the source of much conflict and guilt, but she was dealing with that. She could work around it. She would work around it. For one thing, Gina would literally turn over in her grave if she knew that Elizabeth had a single moment of guilt over circumstances that were truly beyond her control. And for another, the alternative—handing Jesse over to Austin—was simply not to be considered.

  The other possibility—her resistance to knowing her sisters—was greatly diminished. There was no mistaking their sincerity in wanting to reconnect after all these years. It wasn’t their fault that their adoptive parents had rejected a third child. That had been a stroke of bad luck for Elizabeth, but it was unbecoming and petty to resent it now that they’d discovered her and wanted to build a relationship with her.

  As she stood watching the children and thinking, the doorbell rang. Instantly Jesse dropped a handful of Lego and sprang up, scattering the pieces everywhere and looking around wildly for Elizabeth. She rushed over and grabbed the tail of her shirt while looking fearfully toward the front door. Elizabeth bent and cupped her little face with both hands, forcing their eyes to meet. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You stay here with Cody and I’ll see who it is. Nobody will come into our house and hurt you.”

  Jesse’s head moved back and forth frantically.

  “Nobody,” Elizabeth repeated firmly. “See, I’m going to close the den door and you and Cody will be safe. Don’t worry.”

  Jesse reluctantly backed to the couch while Cody watched with apprehension. The little boy clearly didn’t understand Jesse’s fear, but as the days passed, he’d come to respect it. He took her hand and led her behind the couch where they both dropped out of sight, hiding. With a worried sigh, Elizabeth closed them up in the den and went to see who was at the door.

  “Hi.” Ryan stood on her porch with one hip cocked, jiggling his car keys. His grin was off center, just short of embarrassment. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  She nodded, feeling a now familiar flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Again?”

  He spread his hands with boyish nonchalance. “It’s probably my car. It keeps swerving toward your house.”

  Like a bolt of lightning, she finally pinpointed the reason for her distraction. It was an incredible case of denial that she hadn’t faced before this moment. “Your car,” she repeated, trying to keep a smile in check. “Is that the reason Jennifer keeps turning up?”

  “That and her newly developed sense of self-esteem. It’s pretty satisfying to do something worthwhile—and I’m talking about befriending Jesse—when there’s nothing in it for yourself except the warm feeling you get.”

  “She is an angel. You’re a lucky dad.”r />
  “Yeah.” His smile waned as he moved closer and instead of looking at her, turned his gaze to Louie’s house next door. “Louie’s expecting me at his place soon, but I wanted to talk to you first.” He glanced at her, then down at his feet. Whatever was on his mind seemed to rob him of some of his usual male confidence. “Can I come in?”

  “Okay.” She stepped back to let him inside. Lean and broad-shouldered, he took up a lot of space. As always when she found herself confined in a room with him, her composure suffered. He was the only man on the planet who could do that.

  “Jesse and Cody are playing in the den. The doorbell frightened her, so I need to tell her who’s here. She’ll be fine when she knows it’s you.”

  “Have you figured out what’s going on with that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? She’s afraid Austin will come for her.”

  “Jen agrees with you.” He dropped his gaze, studied his feet. “I wish I could tell you that’s not gonna happen, but Austin’s behavior has defied all logic lately. In his present state of mind, he’s capable of ignoring the restraining order and trying to force his way in here to talk to her.”

  “I wish I could believe he only wants to talk to her.” Elizabeth worried her lower lip. “What’s more likely is that he wants to take her.”

  “There’s a word for that. The penalty for kidnapping is serious. Even if it’s your own kid.”

  “But as you say, Austin’s behavior lately is not logical. He’s desperate, Ryan.”

  “He hasn’t made any attempt to see her recently, has he?”

  “Not to my knowledge, and she’s seldom out of my sight unless she’s with Louie or Jennifer.”

  “Just be cautious, okay?”

  He watched her walk to the den and open the door to reassure the kids. No sound from Jesse, but Cody’s question to Liz was revealing. “That’s not Jesse’s bad daddy, is it?” the boy asked.

  “No, it’s Ryan and he’s Jesse’s good friend.”

  After settling them, she left the den and found him looking up at a series of her book covers, framed and hanging on the wall going up the stairs. “I’ll be so glad when all this is resolved,” she said.