Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (2 page)

She was already running scenarios through her head of things they could do to bring the right kind of focus back to their mom’s campaign. She’d make some calls, check into regional billboards showcasing the good her mom had already done during her short time in office. A TV spot wouldn’t hurt, either.

“Of course not,” JP answered. “They only pointed out the close relationship Governor Chandler has had with all of us over the years. And not-so-subtly hinted that it was a lot more than friendship with Mom.”

They
were
all
good friends. More so over the last eight years since their dad had died.

And yes, the governor
did
have a crush on their mother. That had been clear to the siblings for a while now. But it had never become more than that. Despite everything else, Emma Davenport prided herself on her abilities. She’d worked long and hard to see her family succeed in politics—always her husband’s support, keeping the name first and foremost in the community, and at times, probably being more of an elected official than her husband had been. No way would she stoop to sleeping her way to the top.

She’d simply been the best person for the job, and Chandler had known that.

That wouldn’t matter to the Harrisons, of course. They’d use whatever they could find, whether facts or lies.

Cat sighed into the phone and once again slumped back in the chair. “I hate this, JP. I’m sick at how nasty the next few months could get. I hate knowing that I have to be even more careful with everything I say, and anybody I say it to.” She stared out at the ocean and let the sound of the waves penetrate her mind. “Sometimes it’s enough to make me want to live in a place like this with Becca and Tyler. One where we can just
be
.”

Her kids would love it there. They would start and end every day on the beach. In between those hours, they’d be normal kids with normal lives.

“They’re going to have the best time when they get up there,” JP said. He and Vega would be bringing them up later in the month. “They’ll be begging you to take them back every year.”

“I’m not talking about a summer trip, brother,” she said drily.

She cut her words off and closed her eyes again. She didn’t mean it, of course. Her job was with the foundation. Her commitment to her family. She couldn’t just run away.

But oh, how she often wished she had more choices in her life.

JP was quiet for several seconds before hesitantly asking, “Are you serious?”

Yes!

“Of course not,” she answered.

She opened her eyes and focused on the clear blue sky. It was going to be another beautiful Maine day. Inside her chest, she ached. But for what, she didn’t really know.

“Just ignore me,” she said. “I’m still upset about all the lies. About you keeping everything from me. And about all that our parents were up to over the years.” That thudding in her temple increased.

“I know, and I am sorry,” JP apologized. “I should have told you last summer when Lexi first came to me about Dad being the father of her son. But I knew you and Dad were close, Cat. I hated the thought of tarnishing that for you. Since Lexi has no interest in Daniel’s lineage coming out, it felt like I didn’t have to.” JP’s serious tone made a sad smile lift the corners of Cat’s lips.

She had been close with her father. As the only girl, she’d once been the apple of his eye.

And yes, learning he’d been unfaithful with a young girl working on his presidential campaign had damaged her memory of him. But it wasn’t as if she’d ever thought him perfect. He’d been a driven man. She’d known that all her life.

“You most definitely should have told me when Mom confessed that Dad wasn’t Bennett’s father,” she chastised, refusing to let him off the hook. Their mother had come clean with that juicy morsel last summer as well. Only, she hadn’t shared
who
the father was. That would be for Bennett to worry about, if he was so inclined. She and JP had their hands full with all the other issues. “Have you heard from Bennett?” she asked.

“Nothing,” JP confirmed. “I’ve got calls in to several people, but haven’t been able to find out anything about where he’s stationed. If he’s gotten my messages, he’s either where he can’t return the call, or he’s choosing not to.”

She’d bet on the latter.

Bennett was career army. He’d barely come back home since he’d left at eighteen. She couldn’t help but worry about him, though. More than usual. According to their mother, he wasn’t aware that his father was anyone but the man he’d grown up with. However, Cat had realized as a kid that Bennett had been treated differently. She’d simply had no idea why.

He’d publicly been the honored oldest son of Jackson Parker Davenport Sr. Pride had shone from every pore of her father’s being. Yet at home, her father had barel
y
had anything to do with him. It hadn’t been blatant, as he’d often had little time for JP either, but Cat had spent years watching this play out. She’d never mentioned it to Bennett, but she knew he couldn’t have missed it.

This difference had likely led to him choosing to spend the last twenty years of his life
away
from his family instead of making sure to see them when he was stateside.

But if the truth of his parentage managed to get out before they were able to tell him in person, she could only imagine that would hurt him worse. Learning the news would be bad enough. Learning it from the tabloids?

Unforgiveable.

“I’ll try to reach him, too,” she told JP. “Maybe if he gets a message from both of us he’ll realize it’s not simply a request to check in. And I’ll work on something to take the focus off Mom and the governor.”

“No need,” JP said. “She’s putting out a press release Monday detailing a bill she’ll be presenting to Congress. It’ll get the attention back where it needs to be.”

Her mother always had a backup. She may have only stepped into the limelight the previous year, but she was a born politician.

A moving shape came into view far down the beach and Cat smiled. She couldn’t help it. It was the highlight of her day. What was a little vacation without secret fantasies involving a hot stranger?

If only she had the guts to see if she could make it more.

She picked up the binoculars and put them to her eyes.

“Here comes Becca,” JP said in her ear.

Before he could hand the phone to her daughter, Cat spoke his name.

“Yes?” he answered.

“Don’t do it again.” She didn’t have to say what
it
was.
Don’t keep me in the dark.
“I deserve better.”

“I won’t. And yes, you do.”

Brody Hollister pulled his T-shirt over his head as he continued running toward his beach house and mopped at his sweaty brow. Before he could stop himself, he let his gaze travel beyond his house to the one on the far side of it.

It was a large home. Close to twice the size of his—though his wasn’t small. With an even larger front yard. That’s what had attracted Brody to the area. The houses not only sat on one of the few sandy beaches along the rocky coastline, but they were, for the most part, secluded from the road. Large pines filled both yards, while gates remained closed at the ends of the driveways.

Not that he needed the privacy himself, but having it was nice.

There were other houses in the area, spaced out farther down the beach, but these were the only two that sat side by side. They’d been built together several years ago, his once being the guesthouse for the original owners of the bigger home. Those owners rarely spent time there these days, instead renting out their remaining property pretty much year-round.

A celebrity showing up for the summer wasn’t out of the question, usually with a passel of kids or extended family. But this year’s guest had shocked him.

It had gone to a single woman.

Who, yes, was a celebrity in her own right. Her family name made her one. But she’d been the last person he would have expected to find next door.

Catherine Davenport Carlton had shown up a few days earlier, and if rumors were to be believed, hadn’t left the inside of the house for more than groceries since she’d arrived. She had ventured out to her deck, of course. He’d seen that one firsthand.

According to those same rumors, she was here for the month. But what he really wanted to know was why she’d landed in the beachfront rental next door to him instead of at the Davenport compound farther down the coast.

Everyone in the small town was abuzz about that very fact themselves.

Having a Davenport around wasn’t all that unusual. The family had originated from Dyersport, after all. They’d owned their home and several pieces of land in the county for more than a century. Not to mention, they were a far-reaching bunch.

There were cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents. Many of them had been involved in US politics in one way or another for decades. Several of them came to town on a regular basis for vacations and getaways.

But never did they stay in a rental on the beach.

Yet there she sat, blonde hair shining on the back deck, looking for all the world as if she belonged there. He watched her as he continued to jog in her direction. She had one hand to her ear as if talking on a phone. Her other was raised to her eyes, her face turned in his direction.

She’d been out there each morning since she’d arrived. Sitting at the little glass-topped table, leaned back in the chair, but with her back straight and one leg crossed over the other.

Pretending she wasn’t watching him.

She wore what he thought of as her “Davenport air.” He saw it anytime she got captured on television or in the papers. She never had a hair out of place or appeared to be anything but important and influential. Just like every other member of her family. It made his stomach clench each time he witnessed it. All that fakeness was too much. He preferred things simple and straightforward.

That’s why he lived on the beach. He had his job, his hobbies, and he had his town. He didn’t need what Cat brought to the party—even if finding out she was next door had stirred up something he hadn’t felt in years. Mostly curiosity. But there was more to it than that. Something that kept him watching her as carefully as she was watching him.

He wondered if she recognized him. Did she know who lived next door?

But then, how could she not? It was likely the reason she’d rented the house.

And not, he suspected, due to their past. Not because of some long-lost need to have a conversation he might have once yearned for. They’d been teenagers, for heaven’s sake. Kids. It had meant nothing to either of them.

No. She was there because she’d discovered who his brother was. Why else would she have binoculars?

Though how she’d pulled that off, he had no idea. No one knew who his brother was.

He wiped his brow once more, annoyed at the thought of her renting the house to spy on him. Did she think he wouldn’t figure out what she was up to?

She wouldn’t find anything useful; that was for sure. He rarely spoke to his brother, hadn’t seen him in person in years, and
never
spoke to his “father.” He had zero information that could be of value to a Davenport.

Cat lowered the phone and clasped both hands in her lap, taking on that air he so despised. He’d once thought she was different than that. Different than every other politician he’d ever known. No matter who her family was.

She turned to face the ocean as he neared, and he had the urge to make a right and confront her. He wanted to ask why she’d quit taking his calls all those years ago. Why hadn’t she come back the next summer as they’d each promised? What in the hell had changed from one week to the next?

But then, he supposed he knew.

He’d seen pictures of her and Joseph Carlton in a DC paper the following summer. The man had gone on to become her husband, while Brody had deduced that the DC trip had been the lowest point of his life.

And not because of Cat.

He passed by her house without so much as a glance in her direction. He had five miles to get in before he began the day ahead of him, and he didn’t miss workouts.

Being distracted by a woman who was up to no good was not an option.

CHAPTER TWO

C
AT LET OFF
the brakes of the Honda sedan and made
the turn from the narrow side road onto Main. It was Monday morning. She’d spent the remainder of the weekend alternately staring at her neighbor, thinking about how people had flings all the time, and taking late evening walks on the beach.

And continuing to shake her head at the depth of her family’s secrets.

Her mother had called both Saturday and Sunday, but Cat had let the calls go to voice mail. Her mother could be a little much sometimes, and Cat hadn’t been ready to talk to her yet.

She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready.

She opened the sunroof of the car to let in fresh air but was careful not to open it too far so as not to mess up her hair. She had a good impression to make that morning. Not just for herself, but for her whole family.

After talking to JP on Saturday morning and then looking up the offending tabloids online, she’d decided that her mother’s planned press release could use a bit more oomph. She’d talked to her brother again yesterday, and the two of them had agreed to make a generous donation to the Dyersport Museum and Historical Center.

There was a Davenport collection on display there that she’d been sending family memorabilia to for years. She intended to spend the morning enjoying the exhibits before talking to the proprietor about making a monetary donation. She also had an AP reporter out of Portland scheduled to show up later in the day for pictures. The article should run nationally.

She did worry that a donation might bring attention to her being in the area, but was hopeful they could keep the focus on the good the Davenports were doing and not on the fact that one of them just happened to be in Dyersport.

The people of the town knew she was there, of course. The few times she’d left the house she’d caught more than one person eyeing her as if excited to see what she might do next. But it was a laid-back little place. They weren’t into following her every move just because of who she was. And if Cat were to bet, she’d say they weren’t into running to the tabloids to report she’d been seen buying strawberries at the supermarket, either.

At least, it hadn’t happened so far.

Not that the paparazzi were a huge concern for her in Atlanta, either. That was mostly her brother’s issue, though less now that he was married. He was the epitome of hot, and until last year he’d been expected to follow in their father’s political footsteps. His refusal to accept the Senate seat left vacant by their cousin’s unexpected death had given their mother the opportunity to finally step forward.

However, paparazzi following
her
or not, the world never stopped watching. That meant Cat was always careful with everything she said and did.

She drove along Main Street, taking in the quaint storefronts lining the edges of the sidewalks, each building painted a different color. Yellow, orange, pink, green, blue, lavender. It was charming and added a nice sense of comfort. Dyersport was a calm, lovely place to spend a few weeks. She was glad she’d come. Even if everything she saw did make her think of her last summer here.

Her first-born daughter would have graduated high school last month had she lived.

Not that Cat would have been around to witness it. She’d made the painful decision to give her daughter up. That fact still weighed heavy on her heart. She should have done better for her. At times, she’d wondered if Annabelle had died of a broken heart because she’d believed her mother hadn’t wanted her.

Which was ridiculous; Cat knew that. Annabelle had been born sick. Cat’s mother had found out months later that the baby hadn’t made it. While Cat had been clueless that her little girl had been struggling to live.

Alive or not, Cat had been unable to forgive herself for walking away from her daughter.

She hadn’t had a choice; she understood that. She’d been sixteen and her father had been running for reelection to the House. He hadn’t needed a pregnant teen on the campaign trail.

But giving her baby up had destroyed Cat’s spirit. It had changed her.

Given the chance for a redo, she’d often wondered if she would make the same decisions a second time. Was that really the type of person she was? Or had she merely let circumstances convince her otherwise?

Possibly her guilt had as much to do with Brody as anything. She’d never told him. She’d tried. But she could have tried harder. He’d been even younger than she was, and no doubt as ill-prepared for parenthood as she. But still . . .

Telling him was one decision she most definitely would do differently the second time around.

He’d been from New Hampshire, here that summer attending a program at St. Mary’s College when they’d met and become fast friends. Nights of hanging out at beach parties had turned into more. She’d given him her heart.

They’d had a glorious last day together that had ended with them making love. Then they’d gone their separate ways. Promises had been made. They’d talk, keep in touch. They’d return the next summer.

But little of that had happened.

There had been a few phone calls. Great calls. Calls she’d anxiously waited for.

And then nothing.

Cat couldn’t help but believe his life was better
not
knowing he had a kid who’d died, though. That was a pain she wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

She pulled her head back out of the past and realized she was being watched. She smiled and waved at the residents dotted along the sidewalks. Some appeared to be owners opening up shop, others out for a morning walk. All with an easygoing sense about them. All seemingly blissfully happy. It made her once again think about how Becca and Tyler would love this town. She was anxious to get them up here.

Though she was just as anxious to enjoy her remaining free time as a single woman.

Which once again made her think of summer flings and getting naked with strangers.

She mentally rolled her eyes at the thought. She couldn’t allow her hormones to get the best of her. The risk of dragging her kids into the middle of something like that wasn’t worth it.

Heck, the risk of dragging
herself
into something like that wasn’t worth it.

With her luck, it would make the front page of the national news.
Cat Carlton finally dates again.

She sighed. She couldn’t let that happen. This was a trip about remaining
under
the radar.

Instead of driving straight through the square and taking the direct route to the museum, she turned beside a florist’s shop and headed down a street where she could see additional stores lining both sides of the road. She’d looked up a bakery before heading out, having decided to arrive at the museum bearing tasty treats. It seemed a good way to start her introduction off right.

Several minutes later, as she slid back behind the wheel of her car with an armful of white boxes, she breathed in a lungful of sweet bread and salty air and reached out to close her door. When she did, a sign in a window across the street caught her attention. Sea Mist Playhouse.

Dyersport had a community theater? Her pulse sped up. She hadn’t been in a local theater in years. She’d loved being in the drama club in high school. She’d even been somewhat of a star.

If only in her mind.

She pulled the keys from the ignition and hurried across the asphalt to the entrance of the building to find a small sign stating that opening night for the next play would be this Friday.

Too late to audition.

She took a quick step back, almost falling in her haste, shocked that the thought had entered her mind. She wouldn’t want to audition even if there was time. She hadn’t done anything like that in years.

But she could come back and see the play. That would be fun.

Hurrying to her car, she pulled out of her parking spot feeling more lighthearted than she had in a long time, and made the turn onto Main. That lightheartedness allowed her to answer her phone when it rang. It was her mother.

“Catherine.” Her mother breathed the word out as if Cat had been missing for weeks.

“Hi, Mom. I’m just heading to the museum.” JP had filled their mother in on their plans. “Do you have your press release ready to go today?”

“I’m fine, yes. It’s set to go out within the hour. But are you okay? It’s not like you to not take my calls. I’ve been worried sick.”

No, it wasn’t like her. Normally she immediately jumped when her mother called, but this
was
her vacation. The way she saw it, she could ignore phone calls while on vacation if she wanted to. Especially when the subject matter wasn’t something she was anxious to discuss.

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought about how to best answer her mother. No, she was not okay. Each of her parents had had a kid with someone else. They’d paid off her dad’s mistress. She wasn’t happy about any of it.

But she didn’t want to say all that. “I’ve been better,” she finally conceded.

“I know it’s a shock to learn. I wanted to tell you before.”

“You did?” Then why hadn’t she? That had bothered her, too. JP had found out, and still, her mother had kept it from her.

“It’s just,” her mother hedged, “there was no need to worry you. Nothing changes. We’re still the same people we were.”

Which was part of the problem. Cat was now confused as to who her parents were. Certainly not the people she’d always believed them to be.

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, Mom. None of it. And then, you wrote a check to that girl? A
big
check.”

“I had to. I did it for her son.”

The girl in question had been a seventeen-year-old volunteer at her dad’s campaign headquarters. And Cat kept finding herself questioning the validity of her mother’s explanation. Had it really been for the child?

Or to keep the underage girl quiet?

“Everything I’ve done is for the good of the family,” her mother said. “I’ve always had nothing but the best of intentions. You know that. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to maintain our high integrity.”

Like hiding her own pregnant teenage daughter. “It’s just a lot to take in,” Cat said.

“I know. But surely you can understand. We all do what we have to do.”

The passive-aggressive barb was directed at her. Cat had allowed herself to
go “abroad” for the school year; she’d told no one she was pregnant—including the rest of her family—then she’d given her baby to another woman.

She’d had to.

If she hadn’t, her father’s political career could have been cut short. She’d loved her father, and it would have destroyed him in more ways than one.

Only . . . she’d lived with regrets since, and she wasn’t so sure her mother had ever regretted anything. At least she’d never said as much to Cat.

Cat braked at a stoplight, seeing the museum several blocks ahead, and thought about that morning’s call from her brother. It pained her that she was questioning her mother’s words at this point, but she found she couldn’t help it. “You
didn’t
actually sleep with Governor Chandler, right?” she asked.

“What? Of course not.” Her mom came across as highly affronted. “How could you even think that?”

“I don’t think it. Not really. I just . . .” She just didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Well, of course I didn’t,” her mother soothed. “You know better than that. Douglas and I are merely friends. Exactly as he is with you and your brother. Now tell me about this house you’re renting up there.” Her mother easily changed gears. “Is it safe? I’d prefer you were at the family compound.”

“I’m perfectly fine where I am, Mom. You can barely see my rental from the road.” She’d reserved the house months ago when she’d first decided to spend the summer there. She wanted to be a normal person for a few weeks. Not “a Davenport.” So the beach house had become a must. “Plus,” she added, “I’m not JP. No one cares what I do.”

“Well, that doesn’t keep me from worrying.”

“I know.” She wheeled one-handed to a stop in front of the historic building. “And thank you for worrying. But I need to go now. I just pulled up at the museum.”

“Okay, but be careful at that house. Anything could happen out there.”

“Anything could happen anywhere, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

She grabbed the boxes off her passenger seat and stepped from the car, pushing aside the remaining unease about her mother. Things happened. People made mistakes. She was as aware of that as anyone.

So okay, her parents had made mistakes, too. She supposed they were allowed. She just never would have imagined it.

She glanced down at herself before going in the museum. White cotton eyelet skirt, coral polka-dot sleeveless top, and cute wedge sandals to match. She looked fun and hip, yet professional. Perfect. Time to make an impression.

The front door of the building creaked slightly as she pushed it open, and soft music hit her ears. Dark, glossy wood surrounded her on the floors and four feet up the walls, before heading up along the staircase to the second floor. She glanced around and found a woman, probably thirty years her senior, smiling softly at her from behind a reception desk.