Secrets of Paternity (11 page)

“Yes, ma'am. Lovebird, ma'am.”

Lovebird? No, not love. Not yet. But something powerful enough to allow her to trust him when she didn't think she would ever trust anyone again.

It felt good.

J
ames wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd expected from Kevin but it wasn't silence, this absolute, total silence. Kevin had listened to Caryn's explanation, made eye contact with James as he'd added his perspective, then sat without saying a word.

Caryn caught James's eye and gave him a questioning look. He shrugged.

“Do you have any questions?” Caryn asked her son.

“No.”

“You must have—”

“I don't, Mom. I'm trying to find a polite way to say I told you so. But polite doesn't matter now, does it? You waited too long, kept this a secret too long. There's no trail to follow. My father was murdered, and we could have found his murderer if you hadn't kept this a secret.” He shoved himself out of the chair and stormed across his
mother's living room. “Thanks for your faith in me. I told you something was wrong. I told you.”

James couldn't even defend her well because he believed the same as Kevin, at least about telling, not that Paul had been murdered. He didn't have enough evidence to come to that conclusion yet. But he also understood Caryn's fear and what had driven her to keep the gambling and payoff to herself.

He saw Caryn's eyes well up, but she didn't argue the point.

“If they were as professional as they appear to be, you wouldn't have had a trail to follow then, either,” James said to Kevin. “Give your mother a break. She did what she felt was necessary in order to keep you and herself safe.”

“She should've called the cops.”

“Maybe so.”

“Look where we are now!” Kevin jammed his hands in his pockets. “We're going to have to hide out. I just got a job. I'll be fired.”

“What's happening now may have nothing to do with what happened then,” James said to Kevin. “We don't know it's the same people. Why would they get involved a year after the fact, especially since they've already been paid off? And as for your job, it's safe.”

“For now.”

“For however long it takes.”

Kevin seemed to relax a bit at that. James watched Caryn lay her hands on her thighs and look at the floor, as if trying to will away overwhelming emotions by focusing on the rug. He wished he could put his arm around her. He wished he could take her to bed and give her something else to think about.

“You both need to pack enough clothes for a few days,” he said instead. “Kevin, we'll take all your dad's paperwork along, too. You can work on it at my house.”

“I haven't said I'll go.”

“You'll—”

“It's the safest thing to do,” James said, interrupting whatever Caryn was about to say. He couldn't force Kevin. She would try, as his mother, but she couldn't force him, either.

“You're trying to be my dad.”

The belligerence in his voice hurt James, but he had to ignore it, excuse it. “I'm not. I'll be your friend, though. And I just happen to be equipped to handle this kind of situation. Frankly, Kevin, I could use your input. We've got a weekend. Let's take advantage of it.”

“I have plans for tomorrow night.”

Caryn's head came up fast at that. She gave James an accusatory look. He had, after all, said she had nothing to worry about. He hadn't told her he'd later seen Kevin and Venus through the curtains, embracing.

“You'll need to cancel them,” James said. “Plus, you can't tell her what's going on.”

“Who?”

“Venus.”

“I didn't say I had plans with Venus. Other plans. What am I supposed to say?”

“That it's the one-year anniversary of your father's death,” Caryn said quietly. “And we decided we needed to spend it together.”

After a few seconds, Kevin approached her. “I didn't forget. I just wanted to be thinking about something else that day.”

She grabbed his hand. “I completely understand that.” She looked at James. “What if someone sees us leaving here with our suitcases? Or arriving at your house?”

“Pack your stuff in grocery sacks. After we leave, Cassie will pick up everything and bring it over later, as if she's delivering groceries. Not too many bags, okay?”

“There are a lot of boxes,” Keith said.

“Sorted by year?”

“Not really.”

“I'll work something out. For now, why don't you both get ready?”

Kevin headed to the stairs then stopped. “I should use the back stairs, don't you think? They lead to the yard, and there's a door into my kitchen from there.”

James had just been about to suggest it. “Good idea.”

“He's right,” Caryn said after the back door shut. “I should've contacted the police.”

“Hindsight. You were scared. What's done is done.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Cassie as Caryn disappeared into her bedroom to pack. “Hey, Cass. We'll be ready in twenty.”

“Quinn's here with me,” she said. “We can drive over and walk the block. See what we can see.”

“Thanks.” He tucked the phone in his pocket and went to look out the front window. Because he was three stories up, he saw only the tops of cars. Who knew who sat inside, watching? He had to get Caryn and Kevin out of this house, into his car, then into his house without anyone seeing. And then he had to do the same thing with those boxes.

It was the least of his worries. He had no doubt he could protect them coming and going.

But just who was going to protect him from falling harder for both of them when they would be living with him?

 

In James's office later, Caryn concentrated first on organizing the papers from the three boxes that she'd given James, as Kevin took over the living room to sort what he had. James went back and forth between them. It was almost midnight. They'd been at it for hours. Caryn sat cross-legged on the floor. She was so tired, she was ready to let the papers be her mattress. But she couldn't. Not yet. She had to tell James something, but not until Kevin went to bed.

“Want to call it a day?” James asked from the doorway.

She nodded. Even the coffee she'd had an hour ago wasn't giving her a boost. “How about you?” she asked.

“I think we're organized. Tomorrow we can start to make sense of it all.”

“Will you go to sleep or will you continue to work on—” she opened her arms “—all this?”

“I'm going to bed.”

She wished she could climb in bed with him. Just to sleep beside him would make her feel better. Just to be held…

Which was a big, fat lie. Not that she didn't want to be held, but she wanted everything. To kiss and be kissed, to touch and be touched, to have the freedom to make love with him, to feel him over her, inside her. To forget about everything else.

“Caryn?”

“Hmm?”

He'd come close, was crouching in front of her. “Did you fall asleep?”

She smiled and shook her head. She reached to touch his hand—

“Mom.”

She jerked her arm back. Her gaze flew to James's.

“He can't see,” James whispered. “I'm blocking.”

“What, honey?”

“I want to go to bed.”

“We were just talking about that. I'll be right behind you.” She accepted James's help to stand. She'd been sitting for so long, she stumbled. He caught her by the elbow.

“Whoa.”

“Sorry. Foot's asleep.” She shook it. Kevin had come up close and took her other hand. She let go of James's.

“I'll help you upstairs,” Kevin said.

She laughed. “I'm not doddering yet. Just give me a minute.” She didn't look at her son's face but at the floor and moved her foot around until the pins and needles went away, aware that James had stepped out of reach. Was Kevin jealous? He was certainly being proprietary. Or had he seen something between her and James? Something they weren't aware they were showing?

“Okay, I'm ready. See you in the morning, James. Thanks so much for putting us up and taking care of us.”

“You're welcome.”

She tried to give him a casual smile, but it felt forced now that she figured Kevin was watching closely.

“Night, Kevin,” James said.

“Night.” A lifetime of politeness drilled into him by his mother came with the single word.

She and Kevin climbed the stairs. She'd seen her assigned guest room only to unpack her clothing after Cassie brought the bags, and found it as beautiful as the rest of the house, with a delicate four-poster bed and rose-printed quilt. She couldn't wait to sink into the big, inviting bed.
She needed to stay awake long enough to talk to James, however. She would keep no more secrets from him.

“You okay here?” Kevin asked at her door.

“Sure. Why wouldn't I be?”

“This doesn't seem totally lame to you? Hanging with the guy who, you know.”

“I'm just grateful he's in our lives at the moment. I don't think I could've handled another threat alone.”

“You shouldn't have handled the first one alone.” Accusation was in his voice, but not bitterly so.

“I realize that now.”

“I can take care of you, you know. Dad would want me to.”

“I know. It's nice to have help, though, don't you think?”

He shrugged. “It's okay.”

She patted his cheek. “I'll see you in the morning.” She turned toward her room.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“From the look on your face earlier, I'm guessing you don't want me to date Venus.”

Not now, Kevin, she wanted to say. Not now. “Five years is a big difference at your age.”

His jaw twitched; his face flushed red. “She…she doesn't have any more, you know, experience…than I do.”

The fact he revealed such personal information about himself, as well as Venus, gave Caryn hope. She'd thought he'd stopped confiding in her. “I like Venus, Kev. She's a sweet girl. Just don't be in a hurry.”

“Emmaline said the same thing.”

The more Caryn knew of James's mother, the more she liked her. “I know your dad gave you the sex talk—”

“And the protection talk. You don't need to. Really. We're not…there, Mom. We're just friends.” He hurried away then.

She didn't know whether to feel relieved or happy. Both, she guessed. She was going to have to let go of him. She could see he'd matured in the past year in ways she hadn't recognized. Time to remember that he was no longer a child, but fast becoming a man.

She put on her red flannel pajamas, yellow fleece robe and blue fuzzy slippers then looked in the mirror. Nope. Nothing sexy about that look. Her lipstick had faded away long ago. She hadn't replaced it and didn't now. She found the letter from Paul and tucked it in her pocket.

Then she sat on her bed to wait until the rest of the household slept.

 

James knew he was cheating by taking a stack of the papers to his bedroom instead of just going to sleep, but there was no way he would fall asleep, at least not for long, not while there was a threat to Caryn or Kevin.

The finances were complicated and not his forte. One of the ARC partners was married to a CPA, also an investigator in the firm. James would call first thing in the morning and see if she could fly up and take over that aspect of the investigation, even though it was Saturday. James was looking for anything unusual that jumped out at him. So far all he knew for sure was that Paul made a lot of money for the work he did, yet less than half went into the family bank accounts.

He piled the papers into stacks then carried them downstairs. On his way back to his room he put an ear to Kevin's door. Nothing. No sound. James had heard him talking
earlier, probably on his cell phone to Venus, even though it was after midnight.

James moved on to Caryn's door. Silence from there, too. He leaned against the doorjamb, flattened his hand on the door. He liked having them there, liked knowing there were people in the beds. He would've liked it a whole lot more if Caryn had been sharing his room instead of sleeping alone.

On a whim he turned the door handle and slipped inside. She hadn't turned off the light in the adjoining bathroom, so he could see her on top of her bed, curled into a ball at the foot, asleep. Even though she wore a robe and slippers, she looked cold. And cute, like a teenager at a slumber party, in her bright colors.

He debated what to do. Pull the quilt over her where she lay, or tuck her in bed, where she would probably sleep better, all in all. One action probably wouldn't wake her; the other probably would.

James watched her for a little while. She didn't look peaceful. Her expression changed, as if acting out a dream, one filled with events that made her frown. He wished he could stroke her hair, soothe her into a better dream.

Deciding she would be pretty ticked that he was staring at her while she slept, he folded back the bedding as far as he could without folding it on top of her. From the bottom of the bed he lifted her.

“Shh,” he said when she jolted awake and held up a fist. “It's just me. You fell asleep on top of the bed.”

She relaxed slightly. “Oh.”

“You looked cold.” He set her down closer to the pillows, then bent to take off her slippers, gave her feet a brief massage. He could feel her staring at the top of his head and wished she would say something. Anything.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

It wasn't what he'd had in mind, he thought with a half smile. He probably should've been more specific in his request. He stood. “See you in the…well, later.”

“James, wait.” She looked away then back again. “I had been trying to stay awake so I could talk to you.” She slipped her hand in her robe pocket and pulled out an envelope. “After I found the letter you sent Paul with your updated address and saw it had been sent to a private mail service, I contacted them. There was one letter in his box that had been there a long time. It was addressed to me, so they released it. Apparently Paul hadn't given them a viable home address and had paid for the box for two years. They'd been trying to figure out what to do with it. Which is a long explanation for what I'm going to show you now. Paul mailed this letter two days before he died.”