Passion's Price

by Gwynne Forster

  “What do you want in your coffee?”

  “A little milk. Thank you. How long have you known Darlene?”

  “Since she was seven. Are you serious about her?”

  He savored one of the best biscuits he’d ever eaten. “Maggie, I would not have considered coming here if I wasn’t serious. Darlene didn’t invite me—I asked her if I could visit her this weekend, and she agreed. Yeah, I’m serious about her, and I think she’s serious about me.”

  “That’s what I thought. One good look at you, and I had you pegged as a man with integrity. You’re a good guy, all right.”

  “I can see you took your time sizing me up. It takes a lot to make me squirm, and you came close to it.”

  “I wanted to be sure, ’cause when I make up my mind, I hardly ever change it.”

  “Want to see the rest of the place?” Darlene asked, announcing her presence. She knew Maggie would want to talk privately with Mike, and she hoped that whatever Maggie had on her mind had been laid to rest.

  “I’d love it,” Mike said, “soon as I finish this snack.”

  She walked with him through the house and then took him to the back garden, where they stood holding each other among the profusion of late summer flowers. “This garden must be beautiful on a midsummer moonlit night.”

  “It is, and I’ve done a lot of daydreaming out here. Oh!”

  “What is it?”

  “I hear Clark’s car. Let’s go inside.”

  “If he’s curious, won’t he come out here?”

  “You’re right. I have to stop being the baby sister.”

  “It’s all right to be the baby sister, and still stand on your own. He’ll appreciate that.”

  “I hope so.” Getting Clark to abandon his big-brother role would take more than an adjustment on her part.

  The back door opened. “So there you are,” Clark said, striding directly to Mike. “Glad to meet you.”

  “Clark, this is Lieutenant Michael Raines. Mike, this is my brother, Clark Cunningham.”

  Mike extended his hand. “How are you, Clark? I’m glad to finally meet you in person?”

  “And I’m glad to meet you. Tyra will be here in a few minutes.” He looked at Darlene. “Mind if we all go inside? I’d like a drink. This has been a rough day.”

  Clark served drinks. They talked for about fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang. Tyra spent a minute with Maggie and then headed for the living room. Mike stood when she entered the room, and the minute her gaze landed on him, her face bloomed into a smile.

  “I’m Tyra,” she said and kissed Mike on the cheek.

  “Supper’s ready,” Maggie called. “Do you want wine or iced tea?”

  “Wine,” said Darlene, Mike and Clark said in unison. Tyra was pregnant, and didn’t drink.

  Maggie ended the five-course meal with lemon soufflé. “We can have coffee in the living room,” she said.

  Tyra stood. “I’ll get it. After that dinner you cooked, Maggie, you need to sit down.”

  “You won’t catch me arguing with that,” Maggie said.

  Clark poured a brandy for himself after Mike declined, leaned back in his chair and draped his right ankle over his left knee. Here it comes, Darlene thought, and Clark did not disappoint her.

  He looked at Mike. “It’s never occurred to me that a way to get a woman’s attention would be to detain her. Pretty clever, if you ask me.”

  Mike sat forward. “From the time my voice changed until now, I don’t recall a single instance when I needed to detain her in order to get a woman. Not once. Besides, I insisted she remain in police protection in spite of my feelings for her. I wanted more than anything to let her go, but if I had she might have been in danger.”

  “What surprises me is that Darlene had the good sense to hold still long enough for you to catch her,” Maggie said.

  “Now you can apologize, Clark,” Darlene said.

  “No offense meant, Mike.”

  “None taken.”

  Tyra looked at Mike. “Why are men like this? I’m older than Clark. But when I was dating my husband, who Clark introduced me to, he made an absolute nuisance of himself, beating me to the door, waiting up until I got home and otherwise being a pest.”

  “I’m not so sure you want the answer right now,” Clark said.

  Laughter poured out of Mike. “No, you definitely don’t—that is, if Clark’s answer would be anything like mine.”

  The verbal sparring between Mike and Clark ceased when Clark saw that Mike wouldn’t back down from a good fight and could give as good as he got. “I’d better head home,” Tyra said. “It’s getting late, and I have a forty-minute drive. If you have time, Mike, I’d love you to meet my husband Byron Whitley and my darling stepson. Byron will bring you back. I know you want to spend time with Darlene, so I’ll understand if you can’t make it this trip.”

  “He’ll be back soon, Tyra. I have plans for him, and I didn’t include Baltimore.”

  Tyra spread both hands, palms out. “Okay. No problem. I get the message.”

  When Mike looked at Darlene and smiled, Tyra thought, My Lord, that man’s smile is lethal. He’s got charisma to burn.

  “I’ll do my best to meet your family next time, Tyra,” he said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Tyra went downstairs to the bathroom, and Darlene met her in the hall. “We have to spend time getting to know each other,” she told her older sister. “Next time, we’ll visit Byron and Andy.”

  Tyra enveloped Darlene in a hug. “I think he’s terrific. You should enjoy him while he’s here.”

  Tyra came back into the living room and said good-night, and Clark walked her to the door. No one had to tell Darlene that her brother and sister were comparing notes about Mike. Tyra liked him, and he had Clark’s respect, albeit grudgingly so.

  “Good night, you two,” Clark said. “Don’t stay up all night.”

  “Good night,” Maggie called to them as she headed up the stairs.

  “My goodness,” Darlene said to Mike. “Something must be out of kilter. They’re all behaving so nicely. You didn’t brainwash them, did you?”

  “You have a wonderful family, and they obviously love you very much. I thought Clark might give me a hard time, but he only wants to test my mettle.”

  “After the response you gave him, he’d have been foolish to try getting the better of you, and Clark is not foolish.”

  “I think it’s best that I don’t sit down here with you. It’s too tempting not to take you in my arms and—”

  “You mean you’re planning to go to bed and not kiss me? Well, I do not plan to cooperate with that.”

  He picked her up, put her in his lap and let his hands roam over her body. “Hey, I didn’t mean for you to light a fire.”

  “Do you think you can kiss me and I’ll get one second of sleep tonight knowing you’re sleeping under the same roof as I am?”

  “Just a little,” she said, as he captured her mouth. She parted her lips, and he plunged into her. The minute she tasted him, her blood began a mad rush south. She grabbed his hand and rubbed her nipple with it. As if in a panic, he jumped up, put her on her feet and pushed her gently from him.

  “If Maggie or Clark had come down those steps right then, what would you have done? We’ll get our moment, sweetheart, but definitely not like this.”

  He sat down with her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I confess I wasn’t thinking.”

  His laughter wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “That’s definitely an understatement, sweetheart.” He encircled her in a warm embrace, and she kissed his neck, relaxed and happy.

  “Would you believe what happened to me the afternoon I got home?” she asked him.

  He said he wouldn’t.

  “After I spoke with Edward, I had a strange encounter.” She related to him the incident with Bradford Pickney. Mike sat up straight, and she knew he was about to drop a bomb.

  “I arrested a wom
an with the same last name. Why would that man be interested in you the day you returned from Memphis?”

  “I’m trying to figure that out.”

  “In my business, there are no coincidences, Darlene.”

  “Evidently not. One of the people I was supposed to have interviewed was named Pickney, but she didn’t answer her phone, although I called that number several times.”

  “Do you remember her first name?”

  “Madeline, I think.”

  “She didn’t answer because she is in jail for jury tampering. Hmm. What’s your client’s name?”

  “Frank, Albert Frank.”

  “If Madeline’s married, check her maiden name.”

  She looked at Mike quizzically. “I’m a detective, remember?” he said.

  “Thanks, Mike. Do you mind if we stop by my office tomorrow morning? I should be able to check on that in about half an hour.”

  “Don’t mind a bit. Let’s call it a night.”

  She clasped him to her body, parted her lips over his and pulled him into her. Then, just as quickly, she released him.

  “Good night, love. See you at about seven-thirty,” she said and ran up the stairs. She wanted so badly to spend the night in his arms, but she knew that would be the wrong move.

  Darlene walked into the kitchen at seven the next morning and found Maggie there with breakfast well underway. “Darlene, are you sure about this man? Don’t think you can play with him, because he won’t stand for it.”

  “I haven’t known him long, Maggie, but I know he’s the one. I knew it the first time I looked at him. At first, it scared me to death. I’ve never reacted to a man that way. So, I am definitely not playing with him. I want him to be the father of my children.”

  “Well, that’s a mouthful. Whatever happened to Edward what’s-his-name?”

  “He was mature, sophisticated, an accomplished lawyer, everything that I wanted, Maggie. But when it came down to it, it didn’t work for me. He’s a decent, respectable man, but I don’t feel about him the way I feel about Mike. Nowhere near it.”

  “You take good care of this, Darlene. He’s first-class, and he cares about you.”

  “I know, Maggie. I grew up the minute he put his hands on me. So don’t worry. I respect him, and I’m in it as deeply as he is.”

  “All right, but you protect that relationship. Give, but not foolishly. You hear?”

  “Something smells good.” At the sound of Mike’s voice, Darlene whirled around and bumped into Clark.

  “Sure does,” Clark said. “While you two stare at each other, I’ll set the table.”

  “I thought you were frying catfish this morning,” Darlene said to Clark.

  “I was going to, but when I remembered that I hadn’t had any of Maggie’s biscuits lately, I turned over and went back to sleep.”

  “We gon’ eat right here in the kitchen,” Maggie said. “Mike’s a guest, but he isn’t company. I’m scrambling eggs, and you know how long that takes.”

  Mike looked at the fried country ham, sausage, biscuits, scrambled eggs, pancakes and mixed fresh fruit that Maggie put on the table. “Keep this up, Maggie, and I’ll be here every weekend.” He looked at Clark. “How do you stay so fit eating like this?”

  Clark bunched his shoulders in a shrug. “When I still lived here full-time, I practically killed myself exercising. Now I’m only here on weekends, and I try to stop eating when I get full.”

  “I don’t see how you do that. I could sit here and eat till noon.”

  Darlene was pleased that Clark had accepted Mike and wouldn’t interfere with their relationship. “But you won’t,” she said. “I don’t date pudgy guys.”

  Mike was reaching for his fifth biscuit, but he withdrew his hand. “What’s a guy to do? I don’t believe in overindulging.”

  The round of laughter blessed her ears. Immediately, she sobered. Please, God. Don’t let anything happen to take him away from me.

  Ten o’clock found Darlene and Mike entering the offices of Myrtle, Coppersmith & Cunningham. “Someone’s here,” Darlene said when she saw a light from under the door. “Come on. I’d like to introduce you.” They walked down the corridor until she reached Sam Myrtle’s office and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  She walked in and waited for Mike to follow her. “Hi, Sam. This is Lieutenant Raines, a detective in the Memphis Police Department. Mike, this is Samuel Myrtle, my senior partner.” The two men shook hands and greeted each other. “Sam, do you have any more files on the Frank case? Looking through my notes, I can’t seem to find one of the witnesses maiden name. She’s married.”

  “Hmm. Do you think that’s relevant?”

  She glanced at Mike, who leaned against the doorjamb in a half slouch. “He says it’s relevant.” She pointed toward Mike.

  Myrtle appeared skeptical, but he turned on his computer, searched through a file. “Lorraine Pickney Frank.” When both Darlene and Mike gasped, Myrtle sat straighter, his attention riveted. “You know somebody else with that middle name?”

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “Madeline Pickney, could possibly be a twin, considering their names.”

  “She was on the list of people Mrs. Frank suggested I interview in Memphis, and a man named Bradford Pickney intercepted me the day I got back here,” Darlene said.

  Sam Myrtle removed his glasses and pinched his nose several times. “This doesn’t look good, especially since you don’t think you’re alibi witness is reliable.”

  “A witness who suddenly volunteers is always suspicious,” Mike said. “If I were on the case, I’d look into that witness. If you don’t mind my saying it, begin with the premise that nobody involved in a case is completely truthful. Attorneys begin with the premise that you are innocent until proven guilty, depending on which side you’re on.”

  Sam shook his head. “I didn’t think we needed a detective, but I’m not so sure now. Will you be here for a while, Detective?”

  “I’m here for the weekend,” he said.

  Later, when they got into Darlene’s car, Mike began to discuss the case with Darlene. “I’d be glad to stay a day longer and help with the case if you want me to. This thing smells from here to Memphis.”

  “Thanks, Mike, but it would be unethical of me to allow you to do my work. You’ve given both me and Sam invaluable information, for which I’m grateful. But I know I can handle this. I have to believe in myself, Mike, and that means standing on my own two feet.”

  “All right. Let’s drop this for the time being. I want to see what Frederick is like.”

  “At your service,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood. Frederick is a complicated city. During the Civil War, it didn’t go with either the North or the South, and today it’s not really Southern nor Northern—like most of Maryland. The city celebrates a number of African-American heroes, beginning with Benjamin Banneker, the first great black scientist and mathematician this country produced. You’ll find memorials to him in many cities. Also, the official Francis Scott Key portrait was painted by an African-American son of Frederick.”

  She drove along Bentz Street and slowed down when she reached number 121 South Bentz Street. I wanted you to see this house,” she said. “It was built by Roger Brooke Taney, the Supreme Court Chief Justice who wrote the Dred Scott decision. I always spit at that house when I pass it. That decision held that slaves of African descent and their descendants were not protected by the United States Constitution, had no recourse to law and could not be citizens.

  “On the other hand, we have monuments to Barbara Fritchie, Rose Hill Manor, the National Shrine of Elizabeth Ann Seton, and the Battle of Gettysburg. So it’s not all bad,” she said. “Frederick and its environs have a wonderful history.”

  “Do you like it here so much that you wouldn’t want to live any other place?” he asked. The soberness of his voice stunned her.

  “I could live anywhere…if…if I was happy, Mike.” This time, it was her own seriousness, her o
wn truth, that unsettled her.

  Chapter 5

  Walking along Market Street in historic Frederick, Mike marveled at the town’s uniqueness and how different it was from Memphis. So many of the houses were colonial. He had the feeling of being in two vastly different eras. Realizing that he’d been holding Darlene’s hand tightly, he loosened his grip.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, her face bearing an expression of concern.

  He was about to say “Nothing,” but he knew that wasn’t true. “Let’s talk when we get back home. Right now, I want to experience this city. It’s so different from the South. It seems more like New England.”

  “Old Frederick is, because it’s about the same as it was in the late eighteenth century. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I never have time to appreciate its history, so this is a treat for me, too.”

  At Patrick Street, they strolled over to Canal Street, where she’d parked her car. “Let’s go home, Darlene.” She gazed up at him with an inquiring expression, then evidently decided not to question him and took out her car keys.

  “Okay.”

  He held her hand as they walked into the house. He led her to the living room. “Let’s sit here. I need to talk with you.” He didn’t believe in postponing important issues, and this was important to him.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I want us to talk, Darlene. You and I are in similar fields. I know my job, and I accept that you know yours. But you’ve made it clear that when it comes to your work, you’d rather not hear my advice or have me interfere in your work, and not even when you’re about to make a colossal mistake.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Mike. You don’t know. And what if I do want to stand on my own? If I didn’t know you, what would I do?”

  “I hope you’d talk to a detective or a private investigator. You don’t know everything. But that’s not what this is about. If we’re going to stay together, you have to stop being on the defensive. You have to trust me.”

  “Look, I was twenty-nine-years old when you met me, and nobody made me according to your directions. I mean—”