A Conflict of Interest (6 page)

“She keeps telling me—” Her eyes filled with tears. She whirled and ran down the stairs. “Never freakin’ mind.”

He caught her at the front door. “Wait, Leila. We can find someone else.”

“Don’t you understand? I can’t talk to someone else, and if Maria said you should persuade me, forget it. Let me go.”

“Okay, but listen a second. I’m still only a few streets away from your house. Call me and I’ll be at your door.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want to hear what a great life Mom has in D.C. I want to know the truth about my own life, and I’m tired of feeling like a fool for not knowing.” She grabbed the door. “I can’t get over it, just because you and Mom have put it behind you.”

“There’s nothing more to say. Our marriage just ended.” He couldn’t make himself give her what she thought she wanted. Young women might want to hurt themselves more after they discovered the truth about a serial-cheating mom.

“Yeah. Thanks for that. Thanks for convincing me that ‘I love you’ are the last words a woman can ever trust.” She stopped on the threshold, half in and half out. “And thanks for thinking you could walk out on me because I was eighteen.”

The door banged shut, seeming to shake the whole house. Jake yanked it open again. “You can do anything you want, Leila, except pretend this conversation is over.”

“Watch it, Dad.” Her anger mocked him. “The neighbors will see us.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“Maybe I do.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets while frustration beat a tattoo in his temples. “I didn’t walk out on you.”

“Years ago, Dad. You were invisible every time Mom and I needed you.”

“When you say you need me, I’m there. I held you at the E.R. when you had stitches from that bike crash. I taught you how to cut a sandwich in sailboats.” He grabbed at anything that might convince her. “I was in the audience when you caught your bow in your hair at your first violin recital. I ran all the way from the courthouse square to the hospital E.R. the day your mother’s crazy dog bit your hand.”

“Another trip down memory lane.” She gathered herself with a tight laugh that reminded him of Kate at her angriest. “If you want to see me again, leave me alone. I’ll come back when I’m ready.”

“Not good enough.”

“You’re great at pretending everything’s okay. Now you can learn how it feels to wait and hope your life starts feeling normal again.” She started down the sidewalk toward the house she shared with three other college kids. “You and Dr. Keaton and I—we’ll all be doing that. Thanks to you.”

“I didn’t report Maria.”

Leila turned, her eyes widening. “I just noticed the way you say her name.”

If he could ever pretend to feel nothing, now was the time. Maria was the only person who could help his
child. “You haven’t wanted me in your life for the past eighteen months, and I finally know why. How am I supposed to sound?”

“Bye, Dad.”

Her satisfaction gave him a sick kind of hope. She must hate him to be glad she was hurting him. She still felt something. She sauntered away, her boots grinding up snow on the sidewalk. He let her round the corner before he tore into the house.

He had to get to Maria.

M
ARIA OPENED
her door reluctantly. Indecision showed in her narrowed gaze as she peered through the sidelight, then in the annoyance with which she turned the dead bolt.

“Refusing to help wasn’t enough for you?” she asked.

“I didn’t report you.”

Her wide, agony-filled eyes called him a liar.

“If you’ve been treating my daughter, you know I don’t lie,” he said.

“You and I will never discuss Leila. Don’t come back here.”

She closed the door, and he had no choice. He couldn’t wrap his arms around her and make her see he’d never hurt her or Leila. And he couldn’t explain that he’d betrayed himself by not reporting her.

As he walked back to his car, Leila’s accusation rang in his ears. He’d done the wrong thing. Like always.

M
ARIA WOKE EARLY
on Saturday morning after a restless night. That was nothing new; she hadn’t had decent sleep since the trial.

But last night had been different. Dreams of Jake standing on her doorstep, proclaiming his innocence, had haunted her. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe there were at least a few people in Honesty who didn’t think she was a monster. But she couldn’t. He had been the judge in the case. He was always objective. He would have done what the law required.

And it broke her heart.

Sighing, she threw off the blankets. She couldn’t lie in bed all day, feeling sorry for herself. She had a full day of cheerful distractions planned.

First, she baked the sweet-potato soufflé. Then she picked up the basket she’d made for her little sister. Maybe she couldn’t be with her own sister and mom today, but she’d long been making a semblance of family in this town.

She’d joined Big Brothers Big Sisters soon after arriving, and she’d been matched with Carly Dane. Carly’s mother worked crazy hours, and her father lived for most of the week in D.C., where he found more work as a plasterer than Honesty could provide. Carly loved surprises, and Maria often brought her a small gift.

Looking harried, with her hair escaping from a loose knot and her hands covered in flour, Leah Dane opened her front door but kept it only wide enough to lean through. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

Maria stepped back, gripping the basket. “What do you mean, Leah?” Even as she asked the question, she knew. Leah was another person who couldn’t find a way to give Maria the benefit of the doubt.

“Did you think I wouldn’t hear?” Leah asked in a harsh whisper.

Carly appeared, leaning around her mother. “Maria, I knew you’d come. You said you would. I told you, Mommy. Maria never breaks a promise.”

“I have this.” Maria held up the basket, eyeing Carly’s mother. She cleared her throat. “It’s just a plush turkey for Thanksgiving and some fruit and nuts. And a kids’ movie.”

Leah snatched the DVD out as if she expected porn. Maria’s face burned. She felt as if her friend had splashed her with a flamethrower.

“Okay. I’ll look through the basket first, Carly. You go back inside. I want to talk to Maria.”

“Mommy, it’s mine, and besides, I want to talk to her, too.”

Maria forced a smile. Leah turned her daughter, gently, by the shoulder. “Go ahead, baby. I’ll be there in a minute.” She waited until Carly was out of earshot. “I heard what you did. I don’t want you around my girl.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Buck Collier says different.”

“Buck?” Attorneys weren’t supposed to get personal. An errant, pointless thought brought her hope. Leila might have been wrong about Jake turning her in. “Mr. Collier called you?”

“He came to my house, and that’s already got the neighbors chattering at top speed. People in this town assume the worst if a man’s only home when he can be and a woman’s got to work till late at night. They know what you did to Griff. It might make them wonder about Carly, too.”

A vise threatened to close around Maria’s chest.
“You know me. Carly really is like my little sister. I’d never hurt her.”

“That’s not what Buck said, and I can’t take a chance. We don’t leave her alone because we don’t love her. We work hard so she can go to college and have an easier life.” Leah came out and shut the door behind her. “I’d kill you if I thought you hurt my baby. I’d kill you with my bare hands.”

“Any mom would.” Maria could barely see through half angry, half sad tears. There was nothing to say. Leah’s neighbors would love a report of the exiled big sister boo-hooing on the stoop. She wiped her nose and her mouth, blinking hard. Then she held out the basket. “I didn’t put in anything that would hurt Carly.”

Carly’s mother stared at the basket, of two minds. “Okay.” She tucked it against her side, still planted in front of the doorway in case she had to repel Maria.

She didn’t. Maria turned away. She was halfway down the stairs when Leah apparently had second thoughts.

“Maybe we’ll call you when this is all settled.”

Just in time, righteous anger rolled back. Maria didn’t have to put up with these ridiculous lies. “Have I ever done anything to make you think I’d hurt Carly?”

Leah looked as if she regretted speaking up. At last she shook her head. “But what would you do if she was your daughter?”

“That’s a point.” It didn’t make Maria feel any better. “But I’m going to clear my name. I hope you’ll believe I’m innocent afterward.”

Her bravado didn’t impress Leah. The other woman opened her door and slipped through it. Through the
thin wood, Maria heard the rattle of one of those old-fashioned chains sliding closed.

Maria made a living by her insight. She tried to be a reasonable person, but she was starting to get mad.

L
ATER THAT DAY,
as she drove to Beth’s house, Maria searched for a way to fix this mess.

Leah had reminded her that any parent would be wise to take precautions, and their children were more important than a stranger’s right to practice. But in the meantime, Maria refused to wear a scarlet letter on her chest. She could answer the questions when the board got around to asking them, but she’d be a long way down on their witness list. And what would anyone in this town think of her even after she was cleared? If they were all like Leah, she could forget a second chance.

After dealing with Leah, she was dismayed to find herself parking behind several other cars in front of Beth’s lodge. Even though she might feel like a walking sore thumb, Beth ran a fishing lodge. None of her guests would know Maria, and they wouldn’t have heard the stories. Unless, of course, they watched the more salacious tabloid programs.

Maria stared at the house, bemused about whether to run or face it. She’d faced plenty of stink eye since the trial.

Her body answered for her. Without letting herself overanalyze, she locked her car and marched up the stacked stone steps to Beth’s rustic door. Beth answered the bell, already reaching for Maria as she opened up.

“I was afraid you’d change your mind,” she said.

Maria felt as if her legs were wobbling. She swallowed instead of answering, and Beth just laughed as she hugged her.

“Beware the apron.” It was spattered with a smashed cherry and several different colored sauces. “I’m not a great cook, but you knew what you were letting yourself in for when you said you’d come.”

“She means brace yourself.” Aidan, tall and handsome, swung out of the dining room. Also smelling of spice, he hugged Maria, too. “We’ll be plying the table with antacid for dessert.”

His wife gave him a less than enthusiastic look.

“Maria?”

Jake.

She looked over Aidan’s shoulder. There Jake was, taller than Aidan, more serious. The perfectly groomed judge had sleepy eyes and the slightest shadow of a beard. He wasn’t sleeping, and something had upset him. Was he plagued by a guilty conscience because he’d ruined her life?

She couldn’t ask him that in front of everyone, so she turned on Beth instead. “Why did you do this?”

“Do what?” Beth looked sincerely mystified. “Jake, what did I do?”

“I pressured Beth to invite me,” Jake said. “So I could see you.”

Beth and Aidan spun out of focus. Maria might have been alone with Jake. She might have blurted the question that had haunted her dreams, if she could have spoken at all.

“We need to talk,” he said.

She nodded, still unable to find her voice. It mattered
to her. She didn’t want him to be the one who’d probably ended her career.

“We have an office.” Beth pointed through the small living room. “You know where it is, Maria. Everyone else is in the kitchen, and we’ll keep them distracted.”

“Thanks.” Maria led the way to the cozy, shelf-lined room. Heat from the fireplace made her claustrophobic. None of the fat leather chairs beckoned enough to make her sit.

She turned as Jake shut the door. “Was it you?”

“I didn’t report you.” Regret twisted his mouth. He looked different in jeans and a white cable-knit sweater that emphasized his dark stubble and hair. He rubbed his eyes and his hand slid over his jaw and chin, as well. Finally, he met her gaze. “But I should have. It was my job to protect this town from anyone who might hurt the citizens, especially kids Griff’s age.”

Hatred took her by surprise, shook her as if she were just a rag. Fury, hot and spiky, stabbed her deep down.

“You’re sorry?” she asked. “You didn’t try to ruin my professional reputation or essentially get me fired from my job, but you wish you had?”

M
ARIA SHOULDERED PAST HIM.
He reached for her. His hand brushed her arm, her waist. She felt as if she were drunk. Only too much of something heady could explain why her feet refused to work. Why the door had apparently moved farther away.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Please.”

An ache thickened his voice. She nearly stopped, but for God’s sake, Jake was ready to convict himself because he hadn’t tried to rob her of her job. Her identity.

“I’m sorry you neglected your duty.”

She found the doorknob and turned it so hard she hurt her wrist.

“Maria.”

He wasn’t sorry now. He demanded she turn around, and when she didn’t, he caught her arm and turned her. She stared into his face, and the tension between them wasn’t about the job or the trial or even the fact that she couldn’t be this close to him because of Leila.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Can’t what?” He seduced her with his fingers, stroking her arm, and his voice was husky with the same intense need that made standing here reckless.
“Can’t want me? But you do.” His other hand stroked her cheek, and she shuddered.

“I can despise you for wanting to end my career, just because of some misplaced sense of duty.”

“You are treating my daughter. You see me through her eyes.”

She’d thought women only gasped in novels, but she couldn’t help herself. She closed her fingers around his wrist, and urged his hand away from her. “Since she is my patient, touching you—” she wrenched away “—is the most unprofessional thing I’ve ever done.”

Without letting herself look back, she hurried to the kitchen, where Beth was surrounded by faces that looked like blobs to Maria.

She fell back on instinct. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make this whole public mess worse.

To hell with that. She’d had enough, and she wasn’t taking any more, just to avoid offending people who were glad to pass judgment without bothering to discover if she was guilty.

“Beth, I have to go.”

The room and the people went silent. Aidan took the baby girl from Beth’s hip. “Go with Maria,” he said. “I’ll look after things in here.”

Beth walked close beside her until they were out of earshot. “What did Jake do to you?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Her manners took over on autopilot. “Thanks for everything. I’m sorry to miss such a delicious-smelling dinner. I’ll call you.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“You will. The gossip must be flying.” At the door she hugged Beth tight. Over her friend’s shoulder, she
could see Jake leaning against the porch rail, one foot resting against a stanchion.

“Should I get Aidan?”

“I can handle him. Go back to your dinner.” She’d never been a victim before. This was no time to start. “Go back to your guests. The longer you’re away, the more curious they’ll be.”

“It’s not that I think Jake would hurt you, but I don’t understand what’s going on. If you need me, you scream bloody murder.”

Maria smiled to show her gratitude, but she felt better after her friend left her. She opened the door. Jake pushed away from the rail.

She met his gaze head-on, but faltered when she could find only shadows and fear in his face. Suddenly, he didn’t look tall, dark and menacing. He was in need—the one kind of man, woman or child she couldn’t resist. Except she had to. With small-town scandal nipping at her heels, the last thing she needed was any kind of relationship with the judge who’d presided over Griff’s trial.

“You can’t possibly need to say anything else.” Maria tried to pass him again.

“We got sidetracked. I came here tonight to tell you I didn’t turn you over to the investigators, but I have a larger reason for wanting to see you.”

“No.”

“Leila,” he said. “I’m begging you to help my daughter.”

Begging.
That was a word that would shock Leila. It held Maria still. He hadn’t attained a judge’s bench because he’d been a bad lawyer.

“I can’t help you or Leila. I’m not allowed to see my clients. The little sister I’ve been visiting for over a year isn’t allowed to see me because her mother thinks I might be an abuser.”

He flinched. “Little sister? I didn’t know you had family in town.”

“Big Brothers Big Sisters? I’m not the only one affected by this witch hunt. And you’re a judge. You’re supposed to be fair. If you doubt me, everyone else in town must be packing me up for prison.” She narrowed her eyes to keep from crying. Where had all her strength run to? “That day, after court, I thought you might help. You seemed so concerned…I guess I don’t understand people after all.”

“I was worried about you that day, not Griff.”

Tears hit the back of her eyes and throat. She’d felt so alone since she’d stepped off the witness stand. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “That might mean more if you hadn’t said some other concerned citizen beat you to the punch with the review board. You haven’t asked me if I’m guilty.”

“I heard your answer on the stand.” Without moving at all, he somehow retreated and became a judge again. “Unless you have other information you want to share now.”

His mistrust, however reluctant, tasted bitter. “I told the truth about Griff and, thanks to that trial, I doubt the police are even investigating anymore.”

“Probably not.”

She no longer knew how to read people. He was supposed to fight for justice, but he was content to let a murder go unsolved. He’d acted as if he were attracted
to her, but all he wanted was to save the villagers from the monster and to have the monster explain how to save his daughter. “I can’t help you with Leila.”

“I’m not asking for a transcript,” he said. “Just explain—”

“I can’t.”

Frustration strung his body taut. “Help me, Maria. I don’t know what to ask her.”

She pulled the sleeves of her coat down to cover her hands. “I want to help, but I cannot betray Leila.”

“What if you’re betraying her by not telling me what to do to keep her from hurting herself again?”

Maria stepped up to him. “Have you seen fresh cuts?”

He stared at her, and she realized how much taller he was than she. Maria had never wanted to depend on anyone else, but as Jake’s face grew more tender—as she felt not just desire, but a connection—she had to fight a compulsion to sink against his chest.

“I didn’t,” he said, “but she made sure I never saw any cuts. I’m afraid she’ll start again without you.”

Maria wavered. But even if she tried to point Jake in the right direction, he might not understand what his daughter needed. “You can’t be her therapist.”

“Neither can you, so she’s alone.”

“I gave her a couple of names, and I tried to make her see how badly she needs to call one of them.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “With Griff, I had to tell the police because he swore he’d committed a crime. Leila simply needs help. I can’t tell you what we’ve been discussing because it would be unethical. I can’t throw everything away.”

She’d worked so hard for her little house in Honesty, green clapboards and white trim, neat and tidy and almost too cozy and perfect to exist outside of a fairy tale.

She saw the bedroom ceiling of her favorite childhood home. It had been a historic house, fallen on less genteel times. Squares of plaster had decorated the ceiling, each one an Arcadian scene. She’d made up stories about each picture, but she’d soon lost those comforting squares. Just as she was going to lose the home she’d bought and painted and paid for all by herself.

“I can’t do it—even for Leila.”

Jake seemed to shake in front of her eyes. He touched her arm with gentleness.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she almost gave in. Thank God she couldn’t tell anyone how to “fix” his relationship with his child, even if she’d wanted to. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m doing everything wrong with Leila—and I guess with you, too.”

“With me?” She lacked the courage to ask what he was supposed to be doing with her. He thought she might be guilty. She couldn’t get that idea out of her head. “Did you read that diary?”

“No.” Disgust made his voice almost guttural. “I should have, but I couldn’t look at what that kid said about the two of you.”

He did believe Griff. She moved past him. Her car was only feet away through flying snowflakes and cold slush that seemed to work all the way from her feet to her heart.

“Maria?”

She turned. The man was a force of nature, and he
drew her into his orbit. She stopped because he wanted her to. The connection between them made no sense and shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help wanting to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget the burden that created darkness behind his gaze.

He glanced over his shoulder. His privacy mattered to him. He’d hate having even Beth’s guests see him now.

The windows remained blank. Quiet filled the air. It felt as if they were alone inside the flickering curtain of white. Jake came so close, and his breathing was so fast, its warmth misted the air between them. He bent toward her, his eyes rich with heat and panic.

Without thinking, Maria put her arms around him. “If I could do what you want, I would.”

He leaned down, convulsively pulling her close. Her lips brushed his cheek.

“I can’t…”
Can’t touch you like this, can’t wish you’d put your hands on me. Can’t want you so badly I’m frightened, because you aren’t capable of the same desire.

She couldn’t say those things, because his body and his hands sliding over her back belied everything she believed about him. He was capable. He all but melted her with exactly the longing she felt to be closer to him.

Common sense clamored. Her instincts were all off. She was getting everyone wrong these days.

But of all the
couldn’ts
that impaled her on her own bad judgment, the one that tortured her most as she moved away was her inability to stop staring at his mouth, imagining his lips on her skin.

“I’m sorry.”

She hurried to her car, jumped in and started it. Jake didn’t move. He was lodged squarely in the middle of her rearview mirror. Needing what she couldn’t give.

T
HE DAYS PASSED,
but not quickly. Over and over, Maria relived that moment in Beth’s driveway, wanting Jake so much that nothing else mattered, wishing she could help him, hoping that Leila had called one of the other therapists but unable even to check on her.

Something had changed between her and Jake.

On a cold morning, Maria settled behind the paper, trying to ignore her feelings about Jake, her concern for her clients, the ever-diminishing level of her bank account and the envelopes stacked at her elbow.

First things first. Jake was still out-of-bounds. He wanted help for his daughter, and maybe Maria even looked better to him because Leila trusted her. But Maria had to do what the prosecutor and Jake had suggested during Griff’s trial. She had to save her own life. She was scouring the classifieds for work that would let her deal with her unpaid bills when the phone rang.

“Morning,” Beth said. “What are you doing?”

Maria stared at the paper’s Help Wanted ads. “Reading the news.”

“Have you reached the society page yet?”

“You mean, the tiny column that records the comings and goings among Honesty’s rich folks?”

“The notables, yes. You remember the dinner dance at the library tonight?”

“I was never a notable. They only invited me because
I was a soft touch, but I can’t afford to be touched at all any longer.”

Because she couldn’t completely oust Jake from her thoughts, she suddenly felt his hands, dragging over her back and her waist, imprinting her skin through layers of clothing.

“You’re not afraid to come out and show yourself, are you?” Beth asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“You aren’t the first person in this town to be suspected of something you didn’t do.”

“You might be the first to believe in me.”

“I might not be.”

“You can’t imagine how humiliating all this is.” She was every bit as private as Jake. “Doing a fan dance with all my dirty laundry at the library is hardly my idea of a big night.”

“You’ve paid and the proceeds will buy books for babies. It’s a good way to show people you’re still their Dr. Keaton.”

Maria set the paper and pencil on the shiny, polished counter. She brushed eraser crumbs off the newish tan-and-rust-grained granite, installed only a few months ago. With each change she’d made, she’d loved her kitchen more, but if she didn’t find a job soon, someone else would be enjoying the stone she’d dithered about choosing.

“I don’t want to care what anyone thinks.”

“Consider this your own therapy,” Beth said. “Come to the dance and show everyone you don’t sport horns and a tail.”

“I notice you’re not asking me what happened with
Jake.” She hadn’t even heard from Beth since she’d run out on dinner four days ago.

“I don’t have to.” Beth’s voice was muffled.

“You saw?”

“I couldn’t help myself. We have a window in the powder room off the side porch.”

Oh my God. “So you’ve already had a show. I’m not getting paid by the public exhibition, you know.”

“Then consider the free food you can’t afford to pass up until you get some work.”

“That’s a point. Work is beginning to look like an impossible dream. The hospital doesn’t even want me to volunteer on the children’s ward, as of yesterday.”

“Older people like to be read to, as well, you know.”

“I asked them to assign me to the geriatric ward,” Maria said. “They suggested I return when matters are sorted.”

Beth paused a moment. “People in this town can be narrow-minded. You haven’t cared before because you went your own way, treated the patients who needed you and got good results. Now you see the other side of Honesty. But believe me, if you hide out, they will assume the worst.”

“Maybe you’re right. I can wreak the perfect revenge by asking the hospital administrators who threw me out to dance. And what about Jake? You know he’ll be there.”

“He probably will. But that’s good. We had two city councilmen at dinner on Saturday, and they quizzed me pretty hard about what I saw—from the bathroom window. It would be good press for you to prove you don’t have a thing going with Jake.”