The Delacourt Scandal (9 page)

“But if she hadn’t—”

“Don’t you think like that,” she said sternly, cutting him off in midsentence. “The accident was a terrible thing, but the Lord has His reasons for what He does. We just have to accept that.”

Tyler sighed. “Your faith is stronger than mine. I can’t find any reason for a woman like Jen and a precious baby girl to die.”

“His reason will come to you in time,” she said gently, then smiled at Maddie. “Perhaps it already has.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss Tyler’s cheek. “Good night, dear. God bless.”

“Good night, Mrs. Andrews,” he said softly, staring after her.

When she had gone, he turned slowly to meet Maddie’s gaze. “Could she be right?”

“About?”

“You and me. That I had to lose Jen so I would be ready when you came along.”

“Absolutely not,” she said at once. Her plotting for revenge against Bryce Delacourt could hardly be part of some divine plan. It was merely a very human act, and it was that, not God, that had brought her
into Tyler’s life. “I’m with you. I don’t think I understand anything that costs a very young woman and an innocent child their lives.”

He seemed startled by her vehemence, but he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” His expression filled with sorrow, he took one last look around, then flipped off lights. “Let’s get out of here.”

Only after they were in the car did Maddie ask, “Will you ever live here again?”

“I honestly don’t know. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to sell it.”

“Then the house is yours? You paid for it?”

“Oh, no,” he said with a rueful laugh. “Jen bought it and paid the mortgage while she was alive. She wouldn’t take a dime from me, not ever. But because of the baby, she had made a will leaving everything she had to be held in trust for our daughter. I’m the executor. Since there are no other heirs, it’s up to me to decide what to do with it. I’ve paid off the mortgage and I take care of the taxes, so there’s no rush. Maybe one day, when it doesn’t hurt so much, I’ll go back there.”

“It’s not exactly what you’re used to.”

“You mean compared to my parents’ house or my condo?”

She nodded. “Or the beach house.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s nothing like those places. But I was happier in this house than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Maddie had to swallow hard around the lump in her throat. How could she—how could any woman—compete with that? And why did she suddenly want to so desperately?

“Your Jen was a very lucky woman,” she said quietly.

Clearly taken aback, he stared at her. “How can you say that?”

“Because she was loved so very much. That’s the greatest gift a man can give a woman, and you gave that to her. It’s the intensity of the passion that matters, not the longevity.”

“If that’s the standard, then I was the lucky one,” he protested. “Because she brought me nothing but joy.”

Maddie couldn’t help contrasting that to her own goal. What would he say months from now of the woman who was destined to bring nothing but anguish into his life? And how would she live with herself once she’d done it?

She glanced over at Tyler. “Thank you for telling me about her and about your little girl.”

“I should probably be the one thanking you for forcing me to face this,” he said. He reached over and touched a hand to her cheek. His expression registered surprise. “You’re crying. What’s wrong, Maddie?”

“Nothing,” she insisted. She was just crying for what was…and for what would never be.

T
yler still wasn’t thoroughly convinced that Maddie had been honest with him about her reason for being in Baton Rouge, but he couldn’t help being grateful to her for more or less forcing him to face the past. Maybe he’d just been waiting for someone to come along who could.

He felt an amazing sense of relief now that he’d been back to the house he and Jen had shared. Seeing Mrs. Andrews again had given him solace, as well. She had been like a grandmother to Jen. If she could forgive him for his part in that fateful trip, then he knew he had to learn to forgive himself. Though he was far from there yet, he was beginning to believe it was possible.

Because he’d been too wired to sleep, he and Maddie had driven back to Houston that same night. To
his continued frustration, she insisted that he leave her in front of O’Reilly’s when they got to town.

As he pulled to a stop in front of the bar, he studied her with a narrowed gaze. “Maddie, what’s with the secrecy about where you live? I know you’re not working, so you’re probably watching every penny. I’m sure you had to choose some place where the rent was low. You know I’m not a snob, so it can’t be that you’re ashamed of it.”

“I’d just rather leave things as they are,” she said.

Because he was too exhausted to argue, he gave in. “We’ll discuss this over dinner,” he warned her.

“In that case, maybe it would be better if we didn’t have dinner,” she said wryly.

“I’ll be here at six,” he said with determined finality. “If you’re not here, I will find you. You can count on it.” He brushed a thumb across her bottom lip and felt her tremble slightly at the touch. “If I can’t find you on my own, I have two brothers who are investigators. Believe me, you are no match for them.”

The reference to Dylan and Jeb seemed to make her uneasy for some reason, but it served its purpose. She nodded agreement.

“Six o’clock,” she said.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“You will?” she said, clearly surprised.

Tyler chuckled at her expression. “Why do you find that so astonishing, Maddie?”

“Because I’ve caused you a lot of trouble. You had to take off and come all the way to Baton Rouge. I’ve poked my nose into things that were none of my business, stirred up a lot of painful memories.”

He was silent as she paused.

She shrugged. “Worse, I honestly can’t promise I won’t do it again. Asking questions is second nature to me.”

Now that his only secret was out in the open—with her, anyway—Tyler had nothing more to hide. “You can ask me anything you want to, as long as I can reserve the right not to answer.”

She nodded solemnly. “Deal.”

She held out her hand to shake on it. Tyler ignored it and leaned closer to press a kiss to her lips. He fought the temptation to linger and savor the sensations that the simplest touch stirred in him.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Our deal was too important for anything less than a kiss to seal it.”

“Kisses have a way of getting us in trouble,” she reminded him.

He grinned. “Then we’ll just have to practice until they’re no longer any danger.”

Maddie responded with a low chuckle. “I don’t see that happening, Tyler. Not in this lifetime.”

“What? The practicing?”

“No, making them less dangerous.”

He regarded her evenly. “You may be right about that, darlin’. You definitely may be right about that.”

In fact, that was only one of the reasons why he couldn’t bring himself to cut her out of his life, even now that he knew she was capable of lying straight to his face. Whatever her real reason for that journey to Baton Rouge, she was still the most intriguing woman he’d met in ages. He simply had to remember to keep his guard up at all times and learn to slip in
a few clever questions of his own. One of these days he was going to discover exactly what made Maddie Kent tick. He just had to be darn sure he didn’t risk his heart in the process.

Maddie expected to spend the rest of the day sleeping. She was emotionally and physically exhausted after the trip to Louisiana. Unfortunately, nightmares plagued her. In them her father seemed to be taunting her for her failure to get back at his old nemesis. And there was always Tyler, watching her with an expression of deep sorrow on his face.

She awoke shaking, filled with an awareness that no matter what she did she was going to let one of them down, leave one of them bitterly disappointed in her.

Since she couldn’t sleep, she decided to go back to the library and conduct more research. Scanning clippings didn’t require the concentration she didn’t have. It was a mindless if necessary task, perfect for a rainy afternoon. And it would keep her occupied until she had to meet Tyler.

She had stopped the last time when she had found her father’s death notice. Today she began working back from that date, methodically looking for any mention of Delacourt Oil, no matter how brief, no matter how seemingly innocuous. A pattern was bound to emerge sooner of later. She just had to find enough pieces of the puzzle.

It was five-thirty when she reached the edition published a few days after her father’s firing and five years before his death. There on the business page
was a blaring headline: DELACOURT OIL ROCKED BY EMBEZZLEMENT SCANDAL

A subhead declared: Trusted Accountant Involved.

For a minute, she was unable to bring herself to read beyond those damning words. She knew with everything in her what would come next. She knew that accountant would be her father.

But…
embezzlement?
It couldn’t be. It had to be a terrible lie. Her family had never had a lot of money. They had barely made ends meet. If her father had stolen from Bryce Delacourt, where had the money gone?

She forced herself to read on, to try to absorb every damning word of the accusations against Frank Kent, a man who had been with Delacourt practically from the beginning, according to a quotation from Bryce himself.

“I am deeply saddened by this,” he said. “I considered Frank a friend as well as a valuable asset to this company, but I could no longer ignore the evidence that was right before my eyes. A hundred thousand dollars is missing.”

Maddie gasped. A hundred thousand dollars? It was absurd. It was crazy. Her father had never had that kind of money. Never! No wonder he had gone into such a depression when he had lost his job. To be accused of a crime like this must have been devastating, especially when he hadn’t had the resources to fight it, to clear his name. No wonder her mother had refused to go out in public, had stopped seeing her friends. She had been humiliated by the lies. Naturally neither of them had wanted their children to know the kind of libelous claims being made about their father.

Maddie’s indignation mounted. It fed the rage that had festered for years. She was glad to see precisely what had driven her father over the brink. It fueled her determination to clear his name and to get revenge. No man, not even the powerful Bryce Delacourt, should be allowed to slander an honest man in this way and get away with it.

Despite her anger, a niggling doubt taunted her. Bryce Delacourt wasn’t stupid. Nor were the editors of the newspaper. Would any of them have risked a suit if the charges weren’t true? If they didn’t have hard evidence?

Maybe Delacourt was arrogant enough to believe that he could say what he wanted with impunity, but no responsible journalist would do the same. She noted the byline on the article, jotted it in her notebook. She would find Lawrence Timmons and see just who his sources had been, demand to know what evidence had been provided.

Even though it was bound to make her late for her dinner with Tyler, she checked the phone book and found a number for a Lawrence Timmons. Hands shaking, she fumbled for coins for the pay phone and dialed. When a man answered, it was all she could do not to slam the receiver back in the cradle.

“Mr. Timmons?”

“Yes. Who is this? If it’s a telephone solicitation, I can tell you right now I’m not interested,” he said in a scratchy, irritable voice.

“It’s not,” she said hurriedly. “I’m looking for some information, and I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

“Go on.”

He still sounded wary, but at least he was willing to listen. “Were you a reporter for a Houston paper about sixteen years ago?” she asked.

“I was.”

“Would you mind talking to me about a story you covered back then?” she asked, praying he was like other journalists and had a steel trap for a mind when it came to stories he’d covered.

“Why would you be interested in something that far back? Who are you?”

“My name is Maddie and I’m looking for some answers to an old puzzle.”

“An old puzzle, is it? Well, I can’t swear I’ll recall the details, but I can try,” he said, sounding a little more open. “Which story is it?”

“I’d rather not get into it on the phone. Could we meet? Maybe for coffee or for breakfast tomorrow? This is extremely important to me.”

“I suppose. I usually have breakfast at a little restaurant around the corner from my place. You could come by.” He gave her the name of the place and the address, then added, “I’m not as much of an early bird as I used to be before I retired, but I’m usually there by nine.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“What’s your name, young lady?”

“Maddie, sir. Thank you for agreeing to see me. You’ll never know how much it means.”

“I’ll look forward to meeting you, Maddie. I hope I’ll be able to help you.”

She hung up slowly, heart pounding. She had a source. An honest-to-goodness source who could tell her exactly what happened years ago. She had delib
erately avoided mentioning her last name because she wanted Lawrence Timmons to give her an uncensored version of things, something he might be reluctant to do if he realized her connection to that story. Hopefully he wouldn’t press her for the name in the morning. Though, in his place, if she had his reporting background, she might, she acknowledged to herself.

She was still reeling from her discoveries when she finally reached O’Reilly’s a half hour later than she’d promised to be there. She saw the look of relief that swept over Tyler’s face when she walked in and wondered if he would be so glad to see her if he knew that she was very close to nailing his father as a liar.

“You’re late,” he said lightly.

“I overslept,” she said easily, proud of herself for not allowing any of the emotions she was feeling into her voice.

“Really? You don’t look all that rested.”

She forced a smile. “Now that’s what every woman wants to hear.”

“Even exhausted, you’re still more beautiful than most women,” he said.

She laughed at that. “Better, but you won’t win me over with audacious flattery.”

His expression sobered. “What
will
win you over, Maddie?”

The truth,
she almost blurted, but bit her tongue. It was doubtful that Tyler knew the truth. He hadn’t been much more than a child himself when all of this happened. Would he recall the scandal? If she asked and he did, would he remember the name of the man at the center of it? She didn’t dare chance it. If he recalled that the accountant was Frank Kent, it
wouldn’t take much for him to guess that she was Kent’s daughter, for him to speculate about what she was really doing in Houston.

“It’s hard to say,” she said evasively, then added more truthfully, “I’ve been so worried about work for so long now that I haven’t given any thought at all to a relationship.”

His gaze locked with hers, made her toes curl.

“Maybe it’s time you did,” he said.

“Maybe so,” she agreed. Just not with him. Never with him, she thought sadly.

“My mother was asking about you today,” he said.

“Oh?”

“She’s been leaping to all sorts of wild conclusions ever since our visit.”

“How wild?”

He grinned. “Wild enough. She made me promise to bring you by again.”

“Perhaps I could schedule a lunch with her sometime,” Maddie suggested. If she could see Helen Delacourt alone, perhaps she could dig for some answers from her without arousing suspicion.

“She’d love that,” Tyler said. “Just let me warn you that she might insist on taking you to pick out china.”

“Why on earth would she do that?” she asked, worried that she was beginning to grasp the sort of wild speculation in which his mother had been engaging.

“Like I said, the speculation has gotten pretty out of hand.”

“What have you done to set her straight?”

“Not a lot,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“For the moment it’s actually keeping her off my back about my social life. But if you’re not up to her thousand-and-one questions, I’d steer clear of her, if I were you, unless you have me around to provide cover.”

Maddie chuckled. She had a feeling his reasoning was pretty self-serving. “I think I can handle your mother. After all, there’s nothing to tell, so she won’t get the wrong idea from me. In fact, I can set her straight and tell her I wouldn’t have you on a bet. She’d probably pick up the phone and call—who was it, now? Mary Claire?—before I got out the front door.”

Tyler regarded her with indignation. “You would do that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then you’re not the least bit interested in me?”

“Not a bit.”

“Is that so?” he said, his tone registering disbelief.

“Yep.”

“I could make you change your mind.”

Maddie realized then that she’d made the terrible mistake of uttering what amounted to a challenge. “But why would you try? Just for the fun of it?”

Eyes twinkling with mischief, he nodded. “It would be fun.”

“But then what, Tyler? You’re not over Jen. I’m not in the market for any kind of commitment. It would be a disaster.”

“Not necessarily. Maybe we’re both more ready than we realize. I know I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“That’s very flattering…”

“I didn’t say it to flatter you. I said it because it’s true.”

Somewhere deep inside, Maddie felt her resolve begin to crack. Under other circumstances she would play the game, see where it led. But not under these. She couldn’t—for Tyler’s sake and her own.