Always in Her Heart (14 page)

Twenty-four hours, more or less, until the custody hearing, and they still didn't know what Mrs. Bradshaw's recommendation would be. Or whether the
judge would let the social worker's report make the decision for her, even if it was favorable.

“At least Chet seemed positive.” She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until Link glanced up at her.

He nodded. “He feels we're as ready as anyone can possibly be.”

They'd met with the attorney on the previous afternoon, talking over their strategy, such as it was. All they could do was tell the truth. Their feelings hadn't changed, and they believed Marcy was better off with them.

Unspoken had been Link's obvious worry over the board meeting. He might, of course, have discussed that with Chet privately.

She studied Link's averted face. If he had, he wasn't sharing that with her. He'd closed all the doors she'd thought were beginning to crack open to her.

Because he was trying to protect her? Or because he didn't want her to intrude? Either way, the result was the same. He'd shut her out.

There was nothing she could do about it. She glanced down at the plain gold band on her finger. Marriage—the kind of marriage they had, at any rate—didn't mean she could force him to confide in her.

He put the paper down and looked at her, eyes shadowed. “Are you taking Marcy to play group this morning?”

“I haven't decided. Maybe I ought to spend the time digging through the company records.” She
didn't need to say she'd been unsuccessful so far. That was obvious.

He shook his head, shoving his chair back from the table. “I wouldn't bother.”

She felt a flicker of anger. “Because you think I can't find anything.”

“No.” He touched her shoulder lightly, then took his hand away. “Because I don't think there's anything to find. Whatever Frank's up to, he won't have left any traces.” His hand bunched into a fist, and he seemed unaware of that. “I was just remembering Chet's advice—to keep things as normal as possible.”

“All right.” She stood, too. He was leaving, and the barricades he'd erected between them made her feel bereft and alone. “We'll go to play group.” She glanced at Marcy, contentedly chewing on a toast crust in her high chair. “Marcy will like that.”

He gave a curt nod. “Good. I'd better get going, then. I want to get in a few hours' work at the site before the meeting.”

He started toward the door, and she had to force herself not to follow. For her to look needy didn't help either of them.

Link reached the door, jacket in hand. He paused, head down, as if debating something. Then he spun, stalked back across the room, and kissed her hard and fast.

“It'll be all right.” His hands were tight on her arms. “It has to be.”

Before she could respond, he'd turned away and was gone.

A
nnie lifted her hands from the piano keys, smiling at the enthusiastic clapping of her small audience.

“More songs, more songs!” Jenna's two-year-old pounded on the piano bench, his face wreathed in smiles.

“Not just now.” Jenna swooped on him, picking him up. “We'll talk Ms. Annie into more songs later. Who wants a bagel?”

The toddlers swarmed after her to the kitchen, followed by mothers. Linda paused to give Annie a quick hug.

“That was great! You have to promise to play every time. The kids loved it.”

She slid off the piano bench. “As long as you don't expect anything more complicated, I'll be happy to.”
If I'm here. If we get custody of Marcy. If—

No, she wouldn't let herself obsess about that now. She'd concentrate on keeping things normal.

Normal
had changed so much in the past month. She followed Marcy into the kitchen and broke off a piece of bagel for her. Who would have believed she'd be a part of this laughing, chattering group? Who'd have believed she'd feel comfortable enough with them to let her fingers fumble over the piano keys?

She'd changed. Hard as it was to believe anything good had come out of a terrible tragedy, she'd become a different person as a result of her loss—better, more open, more loving.

Please, Lord, don't let me lose this.

She picked up Marcy and slid onto a chair at the kitchen table with the baby on her lap. “Jenna, this is lovely.”

“Bagels and fruit. Everyone's favorite.” Jenna sat down next to her. “Listen, guys. I was thinking we ought to go on another outing with the kids before the weather turns cold.”

Everyone had an opinion on that, it seemed. Ideas bounced around the table.

Annie's throat tightened suddenly. They were including her in their plans, assuming nothing would go wrong. If only…

She concentrated on fixing another piece of bagel for Marcy. She wouldn't let herself dream of that. She couldn't. Link had closed the door.

But he'd kissed her. Her lips seemed to warm with the memory. That meant something, didn't it?

“…so, anyway, I said to the teller, ‘I've been banking here for ten years. The least you could do is let me know I was overdrawn.”'

Jenna had obviously begun telling a story while she was thinking about Link.

“Then I had to track down all the places my checks had bounced. I felt like a deadbeat.”

Annie laughed along with everyone else at Jenna's woeful expression, knowing that Jenna cheerfully confessed her total inability to keep her checkbook balanced.

Somehow, in the midst of the laughter, an idea trickled into her mind. She looked at it cautiously. No, that couldn't be the answer. That was too simple.

Simple, but very effective. Excitement jumped along her nerves like lightning. Every auditor knew that the simplest tricks could sometimes be the hardest to spot.

“Annie?” Jenna nudged her. “You look as if you're a million miles away. What is it?”

“An idea.” An idea that might make a difference, if she was right. “Jenna, would you mind watching Marcy for a few hours? There's something I have to do, right away.”

Jenna nodded. “No problem. The kids will enjoy it. Take all the time you need.”

She glanced at her watch. Only two hours until the meeting. She wouldn't need all that much time.

Please, Lord, guide me to the answers. Let me find the truth before it's too late.

 

Annie hurried across the square, red and gold leaves thrust by the wind sweeping along with her. She'd considered driving, but all of the places she'd needed to reach were situated in the blocks around the square—everything important in Lakeview centered there.

She crossed the street, her gaze darting ahead to search for the number of Harvey Ward's real estate office. The board meeting was to be held there, in his conference room.

She glanced at her watch. She should still have a few minutes to spare, as long as they hadn't started early. Even with Vera's help, it had taken more time than she'd anticipated to find what she needed.

Then she'd rushed to the bank. She had to bring back documentation to satisfy the board.

There it was—another redbrick building, like most of the buildings around the square. She hurried up the steps, asked the receptionist for the conference room, and reached the hallway to see Link about to open the door.

“Link.” She said his name, trying to catch her breath and smooth down wind-ruffled hair. “Just a minute.”

His glance said he was so preoccupied with the challenge ahead that he barely realized she was there. She caught his wrist, feeling the strong pulse under
his skin. “This can't wait. I found it. I know what Frank's up to with the board.”

For an instant he just stared at her, as if not sure he'd heard her right. Then he pulled her along the hall to where it ended at a window looking onto a brick wall next door. He drew her close.

“What are you talking about? What did you find?” His voice was low and urgent.

“It was the loan payment.” She lowered her voice, too, glancing down the hallway to be sure the door to the conference room was closed. “The payment that should have been made this month to the bank. It was never made.”

Link's level brows drew down. “That's impossible. Even without Davis, one of us would have paid it.”

“I talked to Vera. The only thing she can think is that in the confusion after Davis died, you each thought the other had taken care of it.”

“But the accounts—”

“The accounts indicate that it was paid,” she said levelly. “But Vera didn't. And you didn't.”

“Someone tampered with the records.” His jaw tightened, and a vein throbbed at his temple. “I guess we both know who that was.”

“There's no way of proving it,” she said quickly. “Link, I know you want to accuse him, but there's no proof. If he wants to act as if it was all a mistake—”

“You want me to let him save face after what he's done.” Link didn't look as if that were within the realm of possibility.

“I want you not to get into a public fight with him if you can help it.” She'd thought about this as she raced from the office to the bank to the meeting. “The hearing's tomorrow, remember? Surely it's better not to give people anything to gossip about at this point.”

“If we could prove he tampered with the files, it would tell against him.”

“But we can't.” She put her hand on his arm. It was as rigid as stone. “Please, Link.”

“All right,” he said abruptly. “We'll do it your way, Annie.”

“Good.” She took a breath.
Good.
“Vera and I made the payment and paid the late charges. Here's the receipt from the bank.”

He took it, then faced the conference room, his face as taut and determined as that of a crusader going into battle. “I have to get in there.”

“Yes.” She let her hand drop.

Mentally, Link was already in the room, already fighting his private war with Frank. At some point, he'd stop and think, realize what she'd done, probably be grateful.

But right now, he didn't have time for her or anything else. Saving his company was the only thing on his mind. She'd given him the ammunition he needed to win this round. She'd have to be content with that.

 

Link put the bank receipt in the center of the polished walnut table, resisting the impulse to throw it
in Frank's smug face. Annie wouldn't like it if he did that.

“I'm afraid you're mistaken, Frank. The loan payment has been made.”

He kept his gaze fixed on Frank's face as Frank snatched up the receipt, but he was aware of the current running around the table. Doc Adams looked gratified, as if his faith in Link hadn't been misplaced. Harvey Ward glanced at his watch, as if ready for another meeting. Delbert Conrad, Davis's uncle and the oldest board member, just looked relieved. He'd been devoted to Davis, but too fragile to be up for a battle.

They hadn't wanted to believe Frank was right in his claim that Link's mismanagement had put their investment in jeopardy. Even in the midst of his concentration on Frank, he was glad of that. They had wanted to trust him.

If he hadn't been able to produce the proof of payment? The board members wouldn't have liked it, but they'd have been too worried about their own liability to do anything else. They'd have voted for the motion Frank had introduced, removing Link and installing Frank as president and chairman of the board.

Frank would have had the power he wanted without waiting for his chance to control Marcy's inheritance. And he'd undoubtedly thought that discrediting Link would help him at the custody hearing.

Frank seemed to be struggling to control his ex
pression. “I note the payment was late. We can't afford—”

“Now, Frank.” Doc Adams's voice held a note of authority. “It's hardly an issue this time. We all realize it must have been difficult this month.” He pinned Link with a determined gaze. “I assume that is the case, isn't it?”

Apparently Doc Adams held the same view Annie did.
Don't make public waves.

“It looks that way. Somehow the ledger had been marked ‘paid.' I suppose Vera and I each assumed the other had made the payment. There's no way of knowing how it became erroneously marked.”

Annie would be proud of his ability to think this through rationally instead of acting on his gut instinct. Maybe he was learning that from her. Harvey and Delbert were both nodding, as if his explanation made perfect sense to them.

Annie.
He'd been so caught up in this battle, he'd never even thanked her. More to the point, he hadn't admitted to her that he'd been wrong. She
had
found the answer. Her tenacity and passion for detail had saved him.

“Well.” Frank cleared his throat. “I'm glad, in that event, that this has all been straightened out. I certainly didn't want to be the one to bring it up.”

No one sitting around the table believed him, of course, but they'd all pretend they did.

“Suppose we adjourn this meeting,” Doc said. “I don't think we can accomplish anything else here.”

There was a general chorus of relieved agreement, and people began getting up. Frank was the first one to the door. He paused just long enough to give Link a look of pure dislike, and then he left.

Doc waited until the other men had gone out, then he put his hand on Link's arm. “Looks as if you came out ahead of him this time, son.”

He took a deep breath, trying to release some of the adrenaline that had carried him through the past hour. “Thanks to your early warning, Doc.”

Doc waved a hand. “All I did was mention the meeting. You figured out how to handle it.”

“Actually, I didn't.” For the first time in days he felt like smiling. “Annie did that. If it hadn't been for her, I'd have been knocked flat by Frank's accusation, and he'd be sitting at the head of the table by now.”

“Sounds as if she's a smart young woman.”

“She is.” She was much more than that.

Doc glanced at the chair placed at the head of the polished table. “You know, that is what Frank wanted. The trappings of success—the title, the power.” He shook his head. “I knew both those boys from the time they were born. Davis, even with his problems, always had good stuff inside. But all Frank ever cared about was what he looked like to the world.”

Doc made it sound like an epitaph. His words had an eerie similarity to the verse he'd quoted to Annie.

There was something else strange about it. Those
were things that
he
wanted. They were the things that he felt spelled acceptance.

He rejected the thought as soon as it formed. He wasn't like Frank.

“Well, I'd best be on my way home.” Doc clapped him on the shoulder again. “Good luck to the two of you tomorrow. You ready for that hearing?”

“As ready as we can be, I guess. Thanks, Doc.”

He walked out slowly, fitting his steps to those of the older man. Doc had been around a long time. He knew most of what there was to know about humanity. He'd sized Frank up pretty thoroughly.

Did he realize he'd held a mirror up to Link, as well? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, Link was going to have trouble not thinking about it.

It wasn't wrong to want to achieve his goals. He'd worked long and hard to build the company, to develop friendships, to secure a place in the community.

He had a good facade now. No one would guess he'd been one of the throwaway kids.

Trouble was, Doc's words had made him wonder just exactly what kind of man he was beneath that facade.

 

Annie found herself glancing out the window for the twentieth time. Not that she was watching for Link, but it was a relief to see his truck pull into the driveway.

He got out of the truck and stood for a moment, his tall figure outlined against it. Then he walked
slowly toward the house, looking down, seemingly in thought.

Her heart seemed to stop. Link didn't look as if he were celebrating. The meeting—

She threw the door open, then grabbed Marcy as she bolted straight for it.

“What is it? What's wrong? Did Frank have something else besides the bank payment?”

Link held up his hands to hold off her questions. “No, not at all. He was dumbfounded.”

Marcy, thwarted from getting outside, decided to climb Link's pants leg instead. He lifted her in his arms, tickling her cheek.

“Then, why did you look so upset?”

He shook his head, shrugging out of his jacket without putting Marcy down. “Sorry. I was just thinking. I should have called you, but it was getting so late I thought I might as well come home and tell you.”