Authors: Robin Wells
A reddish stain crept up Tom's neck. "A woman like Kelly doesn't need to pursue men. She probably has to beat them off with a stick."
"I'll bet that's not what she uses"
"Very funny, Jake. Very funny."
"I'm trying not to be funny." Jake looked Tom right in the eye. "Look—the scuttlebutt around the courthouse is that her conquest list includes a senator and a former governor. She has a thing for married men who are rich, powerful and older."
Tom gave a sardonic smile. "Well, then, that eliminates me."
"No, it doesn't. It fits you to a T."
Tom's expression grew grim. "Just what the hell do you want me to do, Jake?"
"Nothing. I want you to do absolutely nothing." And I mean that literally. "I just want you to be aware of her reputation, that's all."
Tom shifted in his chair. His gaze struck Jake as tellingly evasive. "Okay. Consider me aware."
"Good." Jake looked at him for two long beats. "You should know that Susanna saw her here this afternoon, too. She was upset."
It was Tom's turn to pause. Then he shook his head. "Susanna wasn't upset about that. She was upset because we argued about her little field trip to the boonies to see that—that woman and her baby." Tom tapped a pen on his desk and fixed a cold eye on Jake. "I don't want Susanna involved in this mess of yours. That woman and her child are not a part of this family."
It was a familiar technique of Tom's—going on the attack whenever he felt defensive. It worked well in court, but it wasn't going to work now.
Jake slowly rose from his chair. "That's my child, and that makes her part of my family." His voice was low and, soft, but it was strong as tempered steel. His gaze was equally hard and unrelenting. "I've always considered you and Susanna family, too, and I don't want that to change. But you need to understand something: I have a child now, and . I intend to be a father to her. From here on out, Madeline will be a part of my life, and that means she'll be a part of the lives of the people close to me. Susanna understands that. She accepts that, and she's ready to welcome Madeline with open arms. I hope you'll decide to do the same." Jake turned and strode out the door.
Tom watched him go, his chest as heavy . as a bag of gravel. He had the awful feeling that everything he cared about was slipping away, like sand under his feet in an outgoing tide. He leaned back and turned his chair toward his credenza, only to have his gaze snag on a series of photos.
Rachel at the age of eight, sitting on his lap in this very chair, gazing up at him adoringly. Rachel holding up a wide-mouthed bass she'd caught in a father-daughter fishing tournament at Lake Tenkiller when she was twelve. Rachel wearing a black gown and mortarboard, proudly holding up her college diploma.
Rachel. A lump big as a golf ball formed in his throat. She'd been the light of his life, the axis of his world, the sweet, soft, candy-nougat center of his heart. No achievement, no possession, no personal accomplishment could ever rival the pride or joy his daughter had given him.
And now Jake had a daughter. Did he really want to deny Jake the experience of fatherhood? Hell, even if he did, did he think he actually could? Tom leaned his head back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Susanna's right," he muttered. "I am a damned ass."
He swiveled his chair back toward his desk and leaned forward on his elbows. He couldn't expect lake to ignore his own flesh and blood. Besides, the baby wasn't really the problem, anyway.
The baby's mother was the problem. The woman—this Annie Hollister—was the one who was usurping Rachel's place. What Tom needed to do was figure out a way to get her out of the picture. He needed to find a way to help Jake get full custody.
Everyone had some kind of skeleton in the closet. If he dug around long enough, he was sure to unearth one in this gal's.
Leaning forward, he punched a button on his sleek black phone. His secretary's voice crackled over the intercom. "Yes?"
"Call Jeff Blade's secretary and get the name and number of the private investigator he used on the Hen-' derson case." His friend and fellow attorney, Jeff, had said he'd found a man guaranteed to get results.
"He's a real bloodhound," Jeff had said. "He can find a bug under every rock."
Tom's secretary's voice buzzed through the speaker again. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"No." Tom tapped his pen on top of his desk. "Just get me that name and number. I'll take it from there."
Chapter Thirteen
Madeline pulled yet another empty pan from the bottom _. shelf of the kitchen cupboard. Ignoring the loud clanging, Annie sat at the kitchen table and concentrated on the leaves at the bottom of Helen's teacup. "An obstacle has been cleared away," she said. "I see new zest and vitality and activity." She grinned up at the older woman. "Everything in your life seems to be on the `. upswing."
The round-faced, snow-haired woman beamed. "It didn't take tea leaves to tell me that, but it's great to hear it all the same." She reached over and patted Annie's hand. "It's so good to be home."
"It's so good to have you back." Ben had brought Helen home from the hospital two days ago, and he'd dropped her off at Annie's house for a visit while he tended the livestock.
A loud clatter made Annie jump. She glanced over at Madeline, who had just discovered the musical possibilities of banging two pots together. The baby giggled in delight and banged them again.
Annie winced. "I'm sure things were a lot quieter at your daughter's house, though."
"In more ways than one," Helen said with a smile. "Sounds like I missed a lot of excitement around here." She helped herself to a blueberry muffin from the basket on the table and looked Annie curiously. "So, tell me— what's this man like?"
Just the thought of Jake made a swarm of butterflies set flight in Annie's stomach. She reached for her mug of coffee. "Well, at first he comes across as curt and abrupt, but then he kind of grows on you. I think his brusqueness is just a protective shell. He's actually very kind. And he adores Madeline." Annie picked up a large box on the seat of the chair next to her and handed it to Helen. "Look what he sent yesterday."
Helen lifted the lid. The box was filled with designer baby clothes from an exclusive children's clothing store in Tulsa. Helen's eyes grew large. "He's certainly generous."
Annie nodded. "When I asked the home nurse for her bill, I learned Jake had already paid it."
"How nice!"
"Of course, as soon as I have the money to pay him back, I will."
Helen leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "That nurse was here to help you care for Madeline. There's nothing wrong with letting him share the financial responsibility, Annie. After all, he's the child's father."
"I know. I just...." She sighed, then looked up at Helen. "I'm just afraid of getting too many strings attached to him."
Helen waved a hand toward Madeline. "I hate to say it, honey, but there's a pretty big string sitting right over there with a pan on her head."
Annie gave a reluctant grin. "You're right. And I know he's going to be a big part of her life. I just don't know how much of a role I want him playing in mine."
"Madeline's life and yours are very intertwined right now," Helen pointed out. "They will be for several years.,,
Annie nodded. "I just don't want to become dependent on him. And if I start to let him do things for me, I might."
"Why would that be so bad?"
"If I start depending on him, I might start needing him. And if I need him.. . well, then it gets into a whole other thing."
"You mean you might start to care about him?" Helen asked gently.
Annie stared down at her coffee mug. "Maybe." "And what would be wrong with that?"
Madeline banged two pans loudly together. Annie picked up her mug and rose from the chair. "He's not available, Helen. Not emotionally. He still loves his late wife, and he says no one will ever compare to her. I don't have any intention of getting into a situation where I'd have to compete with some idealized memory."
The telephone rang, adding to the din of clanging pans.
"Take the call in another room," Helen suggested. "I'll stay here and supervise Madeline's concert."
"Thanks." Annie scurried to the living room and picked up the cordless phone.
"Annie?" said a woman's voice on the other end. "This is Priscilla at Cimarron Pediatrics."
"Priscilla!" Annie smiled into the phone. The receptionist at Madeline's pediatrician's office had a child nearly the same age as Madeline. The two women compared notes every time Annie's daughter went in for a well-baby check up. "How are you? How's Nathan?"
"He's fine, thanks. Listen. I'm calling because we've had a couple of strange phone calls about Madeline, and I thought—well, if it were me, I'd want know about it."
A buzz of alarm rushed up Annie's arm. "What kind of phone calls?"
"Well ... A man with a really deep voice called here this morning and said he needed copies of all of Madeline's medical records because you were considering changing insurance carriers."
Annie gasped. "I'm doing no such thing!"
"I thought it was odd. I'd never heard of the company before—Worldwide Global Health, I think he said it was. Anyway, I told him I couldn't release the records without approval from you. He got very annoyed and hung up."
Annie's head reeled. Jake was the only person who could possibly want Madeline's records. But why? And why wouldn't he just ask her for a copy? Why resort to such an underhanded stunt?
"There was another call, around noon," Priscilla continued. "I was at lunch, so the bookkeeper took it. I think it might have been the same man—she said his voice was really deep. Anyway, this time the caller said he was with the state's social services agency, and he was investigating a report of neglect."
"Neglect!"
"That's what he said. He said he needed to look at Madeline's records to determine if there was any basis for going ahead with the investigation. She told him we couldn't release the records without your permission. And then he said ..." Priscilla hesitated. "Annie, he said there would be a hundred dollars of reward money in it if she would bend the rules a little."
"He offered a bribe?" Annie's voice rose an octave. "Why, of all the sneaky, lying ..."
"You know who this is?"
"I'm afraid I do."
"Is it a custody battle or something?"
Annie's jaw was clenched so tightly it was hard to speak. "Yes.."
"You poor thing," Priscilla's voice was sympathetic. "I hope everything works out for you."
"Thank you. And thanks for the call." Annie hung up the phone, her heart thumping hard against her rib cage, her hands balled into fists at her side.
"He's a snake," she muttered. "A sneaky, lying, two-faced snake."
She'd thought he was warm and caring and sincere. He'd said he wasn't in any hurry to pursue a permanent custody arrangement, that he didn't want to take Madeline away from her. She'd believed him. She'd trusted him. Good heavens, she'd even kissed him!
And all the time he was plotting to take Madeline away from her.
Anger boiled in her veins. He'd played her for a fool. Well, by golly, she wouldn't be fooled again. She strode purposefully back to the kitchen.
Helen's eyebrows flew up as she glanced at her: "My stars, dear—what happened? You look upset."
"Upset doesn't begin to describe it." Annie quickly filled her in.
"You need to talk to Henry," Helen said when she finished.
Annie nodded. She'd been thinking the same thing. "I'll come with you," Helen offered. "I'll watch Madeline while you two talk."
"Thanks. I appreciate the moral support." Annie grabbed the diaper bag off a hook by the door, her mouth set in a determined line. "Jake may think this is a custody battle, but as far as I'm concerned, it's all-out war."
The late morning sun streamed into the nursing home sunroom half an hour later as Annie finished telling Henry about the phone call. The old man rubbed his head with his good hand and sighed. "I hate to tell you, Annie, but he's been here, too. I was going to call you this afternoon."
Annie leaned forward. "Jake has been here?"
"It wasn't Jake. It was a private investigator named Bill Hawk. I recognized him from a case I worked on three years ago. I saw him as he was leaving about an hour ago." Henry gave his head a lopsided shake. "I've got to tell you, Annie, he's an unsavory sort."
Annie felt as if she'd been socked in the, stomach. "Did you talk to him?"
"No. He didn't recognize me. Guess I look quite a bit' different than I did before that stroke."
His voice sounded wistful. Annie reached out and patted his hand.
"He evidently talked to Pearl and Myrtle," Henry continued.
"Myrtle?" Annie moaned. "Oh, no." Myrtle was the nursing home busybody. She loved to gossip, but her memory was shot and she couldn't keep anything straight.
"Afraid so. He told them he was an old friend and he was putting together a `This Is Your Life' surprise birthday party for you. They were eager to help. And of course they swore to say nothing to you."
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes." Henry rubbed his jaw, his eyes rueful. "He was very interested in your, uh, more unconventional activities."
"What do you mean?'
"Pearl told him all about your tea-leaf reading. And about the billboards and your grandfather."
"Oh, dear."
"I'm afraid it does make you sound rather odd. I understand he was also interested in your alpacas."
Annie knit her brow in bewilderment. "The. alpacas?"
Henry nodded. "He tried to get Pearl to say that you talk to them."
"Well, of course I do," Annie said defensively. "They're animals. There's nothing odd about talking to animals. It calms them down."
"Apparently he tried to get her to say you thought they talked back."
"You're kidding."
"Afraid not. He has Myrtle convinced you do. She said you thought they were Dalai Lamas and they told you what to do."
Annie shook her head incredulously. "If this weren't so frightening, it would be funny."