by Marta Perry
The thought loomed over her like a boulder about to fall. She didn’t have a choice in this. She’d never had.
She had to leave, not telling them who she was, because to do otherwise risked Davy’s happiness. She’d just been kidding herself to think she had another option.
“You’re very quiet.” Seth’s arm tightened around her. “Did I scare you away with all this?”
“No, of course not.” She tilted her face toward his, knowing she had to reassure him of that, at least. “I’m honored that you picked me to confide in.”
“I’m not sure it’s much of an honor.”
“Yes. It is. It means you consider me a friend. That doesn’t happen to me very often.” And her heart ached at the thought that they could have been much more to each other, if things had been different.
“Not just a friend,” he said softly.
Her heart felt as if it held a shard of ice. “I wish—” She swallowed hard. “I wish I could stay longer. Get to know you better.”
Tell you that I love you.
The thought both shocked her and seemed the most natural thing in the world, as if it had been hiding in her heart, sensed but not recognized, for a long time.
He pulled away from her a little. “Do you really have to leave?”
She tried to smile and knew it was an utter failure. “I’m afraid so.”
“We’ll miss you.” He cupped her cheek with his palm for an instant, then let his hand drop. “All of us.”
“I wish—”
Her cell phone buzzed, startling her into silence. Who would be calling her here, now? Very few people even had her cell-phone number.
She pulled the phone from her handbag, pressing the button that would let her see who was calling. And her heart stopped.
It was her father’s number.
She snapped the phone off quickly, shoving it into the depths of her bag as if her father could look through it and see where she was.
“Don’t you want to take that?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, not now. I’ll call back later.”
Seth was looking at her as if she were babbling. Maybe she was. She just knew she had to get out of there. She surged to her feet.
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” She could only hope panic didn’t sound in her voice.
Seth held out his hand. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Maybe. Or maybe never again.
Chapter Nine
Seth probably thought she was crazy. Maybe she was.
Julie locked the door to her hotel suite, then went back and jerked the safety chain into place. She dropped her handbag on the desk. The cell phone slid out, looking at her with an accusing eye.
No. Her father never called her. His secretary might, occasionally, to remind her of that monthly dinner with her father, or to cancel if Ronald Alexander was too busy to share a meal with his daughter.
Not that she minded when that happened. It would save her from losing a couple of days to a migraine.
That pattern worked every month to perfection. Several days of not eating before the dinner. Enduring several hours in the company of someone who knew where all her weak points were and used words as skillfully as a surgeon used a scalpel. Then a blinding migraine that left her prostrate. A typical family meal.
She paced across the room to the window. Turned and paced back. The cell phone still lurked on the desk like a snake ready to strike.
Maybe she’d read the number wrong. Picking up the phone gingerly, she checked again. The brief flare of hope was extinguished.
Why was he calling? Worse, did he know where she was? She sank into the desk chair and pressed her fingers against her temples.
Please, Lord. I don’t know what to do.
No, that wasn’t right. She knew exactly what to do. She had to return the call, because if she didn’t, he might get suspicious. She couldn’t afford to raise his interest in what his daughter was doing.
She took a deep breath, trying to marshal her thoughts. All her reasoning power seemed to have deserted her.
All right, she had to return the call. That was a given. She had to talk with him without raising any suspicion in his mind or giving anything away about Davy.
Unless he knew already. The boulder that she’d pictured over her head teetered closer to the edge.
He couldn’t. But she had to be sure. So she had to call and somehow figure out if he knew, because if he did, she had to warn Seth.
For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
She wasn’t sure about the power. Her father had always wielded that. And at the moment her mind felt anything but sound. But love—that she knew. She loved Davy. She’d do whatever she had to do to keep him safe.
She picked up the phone and dialed the number.
Her father answered on the second ring. That in itself was unusual.
“Julia. I expected you to call me back immediately.”
“I’m sorry.” Her stomach pitched. She was in the wrong before the conversation had even begun. She took a breath. Control. “I was surprised to receive your call. I hope you’re well.”
“I’m always well.” His voice was cold. “I’m calling to see how you are.”
“Fine. I’m fine.” Except that her stomach was tied in knots and her head pounded. When had her father ever called just to see how she was?
“I didn’t realize you’d left the city. Why didn’t you tell me you were going away?”
Because you’ve never been interested. No, she didn’t say things like that. They preserved the facade of a family relationship, and she wouldn’t be the one to break it.
“I’m on an assignment for the magazine.” Carefully, carefully. Don’t offer any extra information.
“One of your little articles.” He dismissed her career. “When will you return?”
The question hit a sensitive nerve. Her father couldn’t have known, but he’d managed to zero in on the place she was hurting.
She had no excuses for staying in Suffolk any longer. The fact that it would break her heart to leave didn’t count.
“I’ll probably be back next week,” she said carefully.
“Come and see me on Monday.”
“I don’t know if I’ll—”
“As usual, you disappoint me, Julia.” Ice coated his words. “In view of everything I’ve done for you, surely you can manage to put your family first.”
That was what she was trying to do, but he couldn’t know that.
“If I’m back in the city then—”
“I’ll see you on Monday at three.”
The receiver clicked. Ronald Alexander had given an order. That was how he ended every conversation. He’d told her what he required of her. There was nothing else to say.
She clicked the phone off and massaged her temples again. It looked like the migraine would come early this month.
It was time she left, anyway. She knew that. What had happened between her and Seth was too dangerous. Far better to cut it off now, before anyone got hurt.
She rubbed her arms, cold in spite of the warmth of the room. It was too late for that. Hurt was already guaranteed.
Seth’s conviction that he was partially to blame for Lisa’s death had echoed in her heart. Her guilt was greater than his could be. She’d known how fragile Lisa was, and she’d failed to protect her.
Those weren’t barriers between her and Seth. They were mountains.
“Say that again.” Seth leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at Brendan.
Brendan, sitting on the shabby couch in the Flanagan living room the evening after Davy’s birthday, glanced from Seth to Mom and Dad. Brendan clearly wasn’t happy about the news he’d been forced to break.
“There’s a private detective looking into you, Seth.” He spread his hands, palms up. “Claire and I weren’t able to find out why, but we’re sure.”
Seth shook his head, trying to clear his fogged brain. It didn’t help. He still couldn’t make any sense of this.
“Look, Bren, there must be some mistake. Why would anybody want to investigate me?”
Dad frowned. “Tell us exactly what happened, Brendan. Then maybe we can figure this out.”
You could always count on Dad to approach problems logically. Since his own logic seemed to be on the fritz, he was thankful for that.
“Right. Well, this guy came to the church office this morning. He claimed to be doing a security clearance check on Seth in connection with a promotion.” Brendan’s worried expression eased a little. “Obviously he didn’t know about my connection with the department. I knew that didn’t wash.”
Brendan was right about that. That wasn’t how the department did business, but it could have sounded plausible to a civilian.
“What did you tell him?” Dad rapped out the question, his sharp tone giving away the depth of his concern.
“As little as possible.” Brendan grimaced. “We danced around each other for a while, with me trying to get something from him without giving anything away. Eventually he caught on and beat a quick retreat, but he’d told me enough to start Claire looking into him.”
He glanced at his fiancée, sitting next to him, and all the love a man could hold lit his eyes. Claire closed her fingers over his.
“Makes sense,” Dad muttered. They all knew that smart, efficient Claire, with all her business connections, was the right person to look into something like this.
“I did a search, based on the information Brendan got from the man,” Claire said. She handed him a sheet of copy paper, and Dad got up to look over his shoulder.
“‘Harrison Phipps, Private Investigations.’ An address in Baltimore.” He frowned. “So why is this Phipps guy interested in me? Or rather, why is—”
The doorbell rang, cutting him off. He glanced through the front window, saw Julie’s rental car at the curb and beat his mother to the door.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded a little breathless.
Well, fair enough. That was how he felt at the sight of her. A wave of pleasure washed over him.
“Hi, yourself.”
He reached out to draw her over the threshold. After the way she’d escaped the night before, he’d been afraid he might not see her again.
She held out a manila envelope. “I brought the prints of the birthday photos.” She glanced around the circle of concerned faces. “Is something wrong? This looks like a family meeting.”
“It is. Brendan and Claire just found out that a private detective is investigating me.” He handed her the sheet of paper.
Even saying the words aloud felt odd. That was something that happened in movies, not in real life. Not his life, anyway.
He glanced at Brendan, reading the obvious surprise on his face. Brendan didn’t know how far into his life Julie had come. After everything he’d told her the night before, it seemed to most natural thing in the world to share this trouble.
He looked back at Julie and instinctively tightened his grasp on her hand. She was staring at the paper, and she looked as if someone had hit her.
“Hey, relax. It’s me on the hot seat, not you.”
She seemed to make an effort to focus. “Why? Do you have any idea what brought this on?”
“None. That’s what we were just talking about.” He nodded toward the family.
Apparently accepting the fact that he’d included Julie in the family circle, they’d begun speculating. Good thing Ryan wasn’t here—he’d be coming up with one idea after another, all of them far out of the realm of reality.
“Could it be someone Seth ran into on the job? Someone who thinks the fire department didn’t do what it should have?” Claire had pulled out a notebook and was jotting down notes.
“Anything’s possible,” Dad conceded, “but why zero in on Seth? Their beef would be with the department, not an individual firefighter.”
“People don’t always think logically in that situation,” Brendan said. “They look for someone to blame.”
Seth turned his back on them and smiled at Julie, wanting to wipe the concern from her eyes. “See? I have my own private brain trust. They’ll figure it out.”
She nodded and then shoved the envelope of photos into his hands. “I’d better leave you to it.” She spun toward the door.
“You don’t have to go—” he began, but she was already hurrying out.
He dropped the envelope on the table and went after her. Maybe he shouldn’t have unloaded all this on her, but he’d thought she cared.
“Julie, wait.” He caught up with her on the sidewalk. “Don’t leave.”
She kept moving toward her car, her hair swinging forward to hide her expression from him. “I have to.”
“Why?” They’d reached the car, and he caught her arm as she reached for the door. “What are you so upset about?”
“I’m not.”
But he’d seen the expression in her eyes, and it rocked him. Julie was frightened.
“Level with me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She pulled her arm free. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, but I can’t help.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” He’d be angry if he hadn’t been so aware of her fear.
She shook her head, lips clamping together. “I’m sorry.” She stopped, took a breath. “Really, I am. I wish I knew something that would help.”
“It’s okay.” He captured her hands in his. “I didn’t expect you to charge to the rescue. It just seemed natural to let you know what was going on.”
She managed a smile, but it obviously took an effort. “I appreciate that. There’s—well, there’s something I have to do. And I think you’d better get back to your council of war. They’ll be wondering where you are.”
“Right.” He squeezed her hands and then let go. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay.” She slid into the car. “We’ll talk later.”
She said it the way he would soothe Davy when he asked for the impossible. Then she shut the door and pulled away.
For a moment he stood looking after the car, unanswered questions bouncing around in his mind. Something about this strange situation had upset Julie even more than it had him. But what?
He walked slowly back toward the house, to find Brendan waiting for him on the porch. His cousin eyed him cautiously.
“Julie had to leave, did she?”
“Yes.” Usually he appreciated what Brendan had to say, but he didn’t want to discuss Julie with him.
“Look, Seth—” Brendan looked unhappy with whatever he was thinking.
He shrugged, trying to ease the tension that had settled into his shoulders. “Whatever you want to say, just spill it.”
“Okay. How well do you know Julie?”
Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t that. “Pretty well, I’d say. I’d like to know her better. You have a problem with that?”
Brendan put one hand on his shoulder. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong about her. I’m just saying we don’t know her very well.”
“Seems to me that’s my business.”
“Fair enough.” Brendan took a step back. “But think about it. This craziness with the private detective didn’t start until Julie came to town. And a blind man could see how much it upset her.”
That came uncomfortably close to what he’d been thinking himself. “It would upset anyone.”
But Brendan had a point. Julie had been frightened. Maybe he needed to find out why.
She had to go—now. Julie tossed clothes into her suitcase, not caring whether they were folded or not. She had to get out of Suffolk now, tonight, before she caused any more damage.
The Flanagans might not have any idea why a private detective would be investigating Seth. But she did. This was a classic Ronald Alexander tactic.
He knew. Or suspected, anyway. It caught her like a punch
to the stomach, and she sank down on the bed next to the suitcase. What was she going to do?
She tried to steady herself. Tried not to think about the trust in Seth’s eyes being replaced by suspicion.
Think this through logically, she commanded herself. Detachment, that’s what she needed. Detachment had always been her strong suit. She’d always been able to sit back, analyze a situation and figure out how best to tell a story with her photographs.
Now she needed to use that same skill. Block the emotion out, because it just clouded the issue.
Was she sure this meant that her father knew about Davy? What about the idea that someone was hoping to sue the fire department for some imagined failure?
The trouble was, she couldn’t bring herself to believe this was all a coincidence. The detective agency had been in Baltimore. She hadn’t recognized the name, but the location alone was a dead giveaway.
All right, given that her father had hired the man, was knowing about Davy’s existence the only possible reason? She drew in a slow breath. Was it possible that her father was investigating her?
That made sense, in a way that only a family as screwed up as hers was could understand. Her father liked to maintain control. If the urge moved him to find out what she did when she was away from Baltimore, the logical step, to him, would be hiring an investigator. Perhaps Seth had only come into it through her relationship with him.
An image flicked into her mind of the man who’d taken their picture that day at the park, and a chill snaked down her spine. How pitifully ironic it would be if her longing to do something for Lisa’s child had led her father to him.
She pushed herself to her feet. The only thing to do was go back to Baltimore and confront her father. Find out what he was up to, and then do her best to keep him from hurting anyone else.
A knock at the door stopped her before she could put another armload in the suitcase. She frowned, going to the door and opening it cautiously without removing the chain.
It was Seth. Her heart gave a rebellious lurch.
“Seth. What are you doing here?”