Some vague memory nagged at her, but she shook her head. "Cheryl was so panicked, I don't think she noticed many details."
"At least we have a start in our search for Cheryl," Tyler said, sounding encouraged. "We can drive around checking out neighborhoods near each of the elevated lines until you recognize some landmark. We don't have much time, a couple of hours until dark–"
They were racing for the door when the sound of a car engine being cut directly outside the house made Tyler curse to himself.
"Now who can that be?"
"The authorities?" Keelin suggested as he crossed the foyer ahead of her. "Perhaps they found Cheryl!"
When he opened the door, however, a woman stood on the other side. All Keelin saw was long, sleek light brown hair haloed with lighter streaks so dramatic they looked as if an artist had brushed them into a painting.
"Tyler. You're certainly not looking worse for the wear," the stranger said, her voice low and throaty.
"Helen!" He spat the name as if he hated it. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Damn you–"
"Then I'll invite myself."
The woman pushed past Tyler and Keelin saw that she was fashionably dressed in a gray silk short suit, the jacket topping a halter the same brilliant red as her slim belt, chunky heels and bag. She stopped when they came face-to-face. They were of an age, yet this woman was everything she was not, Keelin realized. Stunningly beautiful. The kind of body that tempted a man beyond endurance. Stylish. Most of all, confident.
Painted red lips quivered into a smile as the woman gave her a once-over in return. "You must be Tyler's newest playmate," she purred, holding out her hand. "I'm his wife, Helen Dunn Leighton."
HELEN GOT GREAT SATISFACTION at the expression of disbelief mingled with horror that she'd inspired in the mouse of a woman who didn't seem to notice the offered hand. Helen let it drop. Really. She'd thought Tyler had better taste, cultivating the creme de la creme of society babes. This one didn't even know how to dress, for heaven's sake. She looked like a throwback to the seventies with that shapeless rag she was wearing. What a pity if this was the best Tyler could attract these days.
"Helen is no longer my wife," Tyler assured the other woman in a low voice before grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "And she's just leaving."
Fury filling her, Helen ripped her arm free. "You're not getting rid of me so easy this time!"
Tyler stuck his face in hers. "You're not staying."
He enunciated each word like she couldn't understand English. Her pulse might be thundering, but she wasn't really afraid of him. Not any more. Not when she was holding the winning hand for once.
Sweetly, she countered, "Cheryl's home?"
"No."
"Then I'm not going anywhere." She waltzed into the living room, calculated the worth of the classic furnishings. And the artwork. "Not when my daughter is missing."
Tyler dogged her. "You care more about your nails than you do about Cheryl."
She whirled on him. "Don't tell me what I care about!" The resentment over his using Cheryl against her was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. "I've had enough of your righteousness to last me a lifetime!"
She could see he was holding onto his restraint by a bare thread when he said, "We'll go into it at another time, Helen. We were just about to leave."
"A date? How sweet. And with Cheryl somewhere out there on the streets."
"We're going to try to find her."
This from the woman. The mouse had an accent. Irish?
Helen raised her eyebrows questioningly. "And how do you plan to find my daughter?"
"Our business is none of yours," Tyler stated.
Ticking her off good. She'd like to know his every move. She'd like him answering to her. But she would get what she wanted soon enough. He was vulnerable. She could see beyond the belligerent expression. He was hurting. Hurting good if not as much as he deserved to.
"Then go." She strolled to a couch and sat, making certain Tyler got a good view of her legs. He'd always had a weakness for her legs. "I'll find everything I need."
His eyes were shards of ice when he flicked them from the body parts in question to her face. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Helen?"
"What do you expect me to do when my daughter is missing, Tyler?" she demanded.
"Stay out of Cheryl's life as you've always done."
"As you forced me to do!"
"As you happily took money to do," Tyler reminded her. "I'll let you know what's going on when I learn something concrete. Where are you staying?"
"This place must have a few extra bedrooms not in use."
"You're not staying here."
"Damn if I'm not."
"Don't make me use force."
Helen glared at him and narrowed her gaze. "Don't make me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She studied the acrylic nails that his money paid for and frowned at a chip in the bright red polish. "You wouldn't want me spilling all to the press, now, would you?"
Triumph filled her when Tyler glowered. Silently. He appeared as if he wanted to strangle her. She recognized the expression.
And she remembered the feel of his hands on her throat, his thumbs at her windpipe.
Despite her hatred for him, something inside her stirred. Her nipples hardened, straining against the silk of her halter top. Perversely, she figured a tumble with Tyler now would be far more exciting than when he'd been willing to cater to her every whim.
He was stronger.
But so was she.
She gave the mouse a pointed look. "So you're Tyler's latest bimbo."
"Leave her out of this."
Helen ignored the threat in his tone. "He won't marry you. He wouldn't admit to having been married to me if it weren't for Cheryl."
"You have that one right."
"Bimbo must be one of your quaint American expressions," the other woman said. "A term you seem to be quite familiar with."
Helen gaped. The mouse was smart, maybe even had claws. She suddenly grew uneasy under the soft gray eyes that seemed to peel away her skin. The feeling made her itch.
"Just get on with whatever you have to do," she told them with an imperious wave of her hand. "I'll be waiting breathlessly for some news, so do call if you learn anything about Cheryl."
When Tyler didn't immediately move, the Irishwoman put a hand on his arm. "You said we did not have much time."
The virulence drained out of him when he gazed at her. Helen clenched her jaw. She recognized that look, as well. He'd aimed it at her often enough during their short courtship and marriage.
"You're right, Keelin." Then to Helen, Tyler said, "I'd prefer you were gone when we return. But if anything is missing..."
How dare he intimate that she was a thief!
Helen glared daggers at his back as he escorted this Keelin bitch out of the house. She'd never taken anything from him but what she had coming.
He, on the other hand, hadn't been nearly so fair.
Now it was his turn to suffer.
AS TYLER DROVE LIKE A MADMAN south along Sheridan Road, Keelin tried to assimilate the scene they'd just left. He was equally silent. Strained. His fingers curled around the wheel as if choking the life from it. She couldn't guess at his dark thoughts.
"Cheryl did say she was in the city somewhere." Tyler's words were stiff. "So although elevated trains run into the North Shore, I'm going to start in Rogers Park at the city boundary."
Keelin waited until they'd traversed a few suburbs, until Tyler's muscles seemed to relax a bit, before she broached the subject that lay between them.
"I was under the distinct impression that your daughter's mother was dead," she observed.
Even Skelly had said so...though he hadn't been able to find the evidence in print, making him think that Tyler had done something untoward. At least Tyler hadn't buried the body
in the backyard.
"Too bad Helen's not out of the way for good," Tyler muttered, his malice putting a lump square in Keelin's throat until he added, "Not that I really wish her dead. I am glad that we are well and truly divorced, however. I don't know where she gets off telling you she's my wife."
For effect, Keelin was certain.
"Divorce is common in the United States. Why say a woman is dead if she isn't?"
"Because I wanted her dead to my daughter!"
Though taken aback at his vehemence, she asked, "Isn't that a bit...cruel?"
"Would it be kinder to tell Cheryl that her mother was so avaricious she chose money over her own daughter?"
"You're the one who paid Helen to give up her child, are you not?"
"Big time," he said, obviously missing her irony. "And I'm still paying. It was a forever kind of deal."
"I don't understand."
"I don't expect you to."
And he obviously wasn't about to try to explain.
What had she assumed? That one kiss would change him? Make him more open to her? Trusting?
Keelin tried to let it go, but Tyler's cruelty amazed her. Separating a mother and her child was unnatural. How could he? Even if Helen was one of the most unpleasant women she'd ever met, she was still Cheryl's mother. Such rancor on Tyler's part. Why? Because his wife couldn't live with him anymore?
Keelin left her questions unasked and concentrated instead on the real victim.
Cheryl.
She had to think of the daughter, for her current thoughts on the father were beyond bearing. And this so soon after they'd taken a step closer to each other... close enough to make her imagine they might even get closer.
They passed Northwestern University and crossed an area of Evanston where both sides of the street were lined with huge old houses, many taken over by fraternities and sororities. Then the Jaguar nosed along a stretch with the lake on one side, a cemetery on the other.
Reminding Keelin of Tyler's lie.
"We're just about there." A moment later, he turned west on Howard Street. "See – the elevated structure ahead. Tell me if anything looks familiar."
Keelin gave the street a thorough once-over as they passed under the honeycomb of steel beams. "Nothing."
Tyler turned the corner, and staying within sight of the elevated, wove back and forth along several main arteries with rapid transit stations. Keelin kept watch, hoping she would recognize some small detail.
"I believe we're in the wrong neighborhood," she told him. "This simply has a different feel. A bit newer, perhaps."
"Then we'll move on." He crossed under the steel structure where it turned. "I'm planning on following this line all the way, until it goes underground. Then we'll check the other rapid transit lines if we must."
"How many are there?"
"On the north side, both the Ravenswood and the Jefferson Park run above ground for quite a stretch."
"And there are more in other parts of the city?"
"A couple," he agreed. "The elevated loops around the financial/commercial heart of the city, though there's no real neighborhood anywhere nearby. Another elevated travels west. I think the southbound rapid transit lines run strictly underground or along the expressways, though there could be a stretch of raised tracks somewhere."
Grand. Tyler wasn't even certain of all the routes. Keelin's spirits sank further until they came to an area he called Uptown.
"This is more like the neighborhood I saw," she told him. "The buildings are similar and look to be the right age. But still..."
"Not it," Tyler said for her, and went on.
Dusk was deepening by the time they passed under the Addison station a few miles down and turned onto an angled street. The elevated loomed ahead once more.
Suddenly, something sparked Keelin's memory. "This isn't the place. And yet..."
She gazed around avidly.
"And yet what?" Tyler asked, his tone hopeful.
What was it about the area? she wondered as the Jaguar came to a stop amidst a sea of other cars where three streets crossed one another.
"Six corners!" Keelin said excitedly. "That's what's familiar."
"Cheryl crossed a three street intersection?"
"Aye!"
"Why didn't you say so?"
Keelin frowned at Tyler. "But I just did. Is it a help?"
"A real big one." Sounding energized by the information, he told her, "Only a few angled streets run across the north side. That cuts down on the number of possible stations."
But unfortunately, they were only able to reach three more by dark. When Keelin suggested she probably wouldn't be able to recognize the area at night, Tyler conceded they'd best return home and start out again at first light. He headed the Jaguar for North Bluff.
And so that she wouldn't have to think about the woman waiting for them at his home, Keelin considered the information Skelly had provided her.
"Have you thought about who might want to hurt you through your daughter?" she asked.
"I've thought about little else," he conceded. "I just don't know. I might not be the easiest person all the time, but I am honest."
Honest? When he'd pretended his ex-wife was dead and had forbidden her contact with their daughter?
As if he could read her mind, he added, "Under normal circumstances."
Making her wonder what exactly had been the circumstances that had come between him and Helen. Again she pushed such thoughts away.
"What about a business rival?" she asked.
"My business dealings are squeaky clean."
"Would that matter if someone kept losing money because of you. Say, Nate Feldman?"
He gave her a look she could feel even in the dark. "How do you know about Feldman?"
Since mentioning Skelly would probably set him off, Keelin chose to hedge the question. "Through newspaper articles. I read he lost several lucrative contracts to you in the past few years."
"That's the way the business world works. I mean, there's nothing unusual about one company succeeding over another again and again."
"But how do you know this Feldman separates his business from his personal feelings?"
"I don't," Tyler admitted. "Come to think of it, Feldman approached me yesterday morning, right before you did. He congratulated me on the Uptown deal...then warned me I wouldn't be so lucky on the Michigan Avenue project. Said he had the upper hand on that one."
"Could he have meant Cheryl?"
"Actually, he said something about a lawsuit the company's tied up in. And he doesn't even know Cheryl."
"You are certain?"
"Why?"
"A photograph in one of those newspaper articles...Cheryl was at the site...and so was Feldman."
Even with only the passing streetlights illuminating the inside of the car, Keelin could see Tyler's frown.
"I was tied up with formalities that day, so it's possible that he spoke to her without my knowing it. But enough to get her to trust him?"
"Maybe that ceremony wasn't the only time they met," Keelin mused. "What if Feldman made it a point to seek Cheryl out sometime later."
"Bastard!" Tyler exploded, hitting the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. His horn beeped, and surprisingly enough, the blast settled him down. "That'd be his style, all right. On the surface, he's all pressed and polished. But underneath...Feldman warned me that there would be 'no holds barred on this one.'"
Keelin shivered. She could tell Tyler was seriously considering his chief business rival as a suspect.
"Does anyone else have reason to want you hurt?" she asked. "Business or personal?"
"Other than my ex-wife?" His laugh was bitter. "How about my business partner? Brock wants out of L&O Realty as of yesterday. Seems I'm holding him back." Again the caustic laugh. "It seems the people I get closest to all want out, including my own daughter. Maybe I'm a worse human being than I ever realized."
"Whoever has Cheryl is the worse hu
man being," Keelin assured him.
When he didn't respond, she let it go. Tension already thickened the space between them. And they didn't have long to go. She recognized the dome-shaped temple that was now lit a brilliant white against the night sky.
The sky. Illumination from the skyscrapers in the city proper reached even this far, dulling the blanket against which the stars lay. At home, she had but to step from her cottage on a clear night to feel as if she were crowned with heavenly jewels.
A wave of homesickness washed over her, and Keelin wondered how Da was faring. She offered a quick prayer for her father's physical recovery and for her own success in giving him a gift that would bring him peace of mind.
Then Keelin worried for her own peace, for she wondered if she would get any at Tyler's home. Not if his ex-wife could help it, she was certain. But upon arrival, she noted no other vehicle in the drive and had to admit to her relief. Though she'd stood up for the woman's rights to have a relationship with her daughter, she didn't care for Helen Dunn.
"Looks like my ex got tired of waiting to hear about the daughter she professes to be so worried about," Tyler said.
"You did try to banish her from the house. Perhaps she took you at your word."
"Helen does exactly as Helen wants." Then he muttered more to himself than to her, "More likely she went seeking some male company."
Giving Keelin a hint at what might have gone wrong in their marriage. Had Helen fallen for another man? She imagined that when they were first married all those years ago, Tyler had been just getting started in business. Perhaps he had neglected his young wife too often...not that there was an excuse for infidelity.
"You must be starving," Tyler said as he opened the front door. "I never did heat up that food I promised."
"I could use a bite," she admitted, though her appetite wasn't what it should be.
Worry about hunger was the last thing on her mind. Too much else had happened to disturb her. Being together alone in his house brought back in clarity what had passed between them earlier. Her in his arms. The sensual demand he'd stirred in her...then as easily had extinguished with his harsh attitude toward his ex-wife.
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