Preston stared down at his hands, his jaw working. “Jesus Christ.”
“Preston, don’t be an idiot!” Lydia’s voice sounded very much like the recorded version. “You can’t really believe that was my voice on that…fabrication. Don’t you think if they actually had any evidence implicating me in a kidnapping, I’d be under arrest by now?”
Preston turned toward his mother, his expression shifting from shock to doubt.
“You know who’s responsible for this.” Lydia turned her Medusa gaze toward Jess. “She thought she was going to come into a great deal of money with Barrett. Then when that didn’t work out, she thought she’d use Barrett’s son as her bargaining chip. Now she’s trying direct blackmail. And she’s gotten these men to help her. Her kind can always find men to help her.”
Jess had been able to control her nausea while the recording had droned on. Just as well since she had no idea where the nearest restroom was. Now she considered vomiting in Lydia’s lap. “How exactly did I set this up to blackmail you, Mrs. Moreland? I didn’t even know Dahlia Smith until she tried to kidnap my son.”
“Oh, for god’s sake! Don’t you think we know these things can be faked? You must have paid someone to create it for you. Or you did it yourself. You used to work with computers, didn’t you?” Lydia waved her hand dismissively, then turned her glittering blue gaze toward Lars. “How much?”
Pete pushed himself upright. He was the shortest of the brothers, but when he was angry, as he was right then, Jess thought he looked around eight feet two. Yet when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly mild. “Are you offering my brother a bribe, Mrs. Moreland?”
Lydia sighed. “You. Your brothers. Whoever’s in charge here. I want this nonsense to end. Now. Tell us what it will take to make that happen.”
“Mother, for god’s sake. He’s a county attorney. The other one’s a cop.” Preston’s expression seemed to be a combination of panic and exasperation. Jess wondered if he’d ever really seen his mother in action before.
“Preston, be quiet,” his mother snapped. “I’ll handle this. I repeat—how much?”
“As I recall, a hefty fine and anywhere from five to fifteen years in prison, in my case anyway,” Pete drawled. “I’d have to check on the penalties for bribing a city police officer. I suggest you listen to your son, Mrs. Moreland. This isn’t an auction. Jess’s safety isn’t for sale.”
Lydia’s lips snapped back to a thin line, her gaze laser-sharp. If she’d had super-powers, Jess suspected Pete would have been a pile of ashes.
“Mother, stop it,” Preston pleaded. He turned back toward Pete. “I apologize for this misunderstanding, but my mother has raised a significant point—how do I know these calls weren’t faked?”
Erik picked up the recorder again, sliding it back into his pocket. “The FBI lab can probably determine that for sure. However, the person on the other end of those calls confirmed that the recipient was Mrs. Moreland. And we have the actual cell phone from which the calls were made. Mrs. Moreland’s number is programmed into it.”
Preston swallowed. “The FBI?”
“They have the original conversations, Mr. Moreland.”
There was a moment of silence. Lydia glanced around the room, her gaze finally resting on Erik. “I want to talk to her.”
“Who?”
“This…person. This woman who said I hired her. I want to talk to her. Bring her here.”
Jess held her breath. If they found out Dahlia was missing, everything fell apart.
Erik shrugged. “That’s not possible, Mrs. Moreland.”
“I have a right to confront my accuser.”
“She’s not accusing you of anything.” Lars moved beside his brothers. “We are. More specifically, I am.”
“You? What on earth…”
“Mother!” Preston’s voice drowned out his mother’s. She turned to stare at him, open-mouthed.
“Be quiet for a moment.” Preston turned toward Lars. “Enough. What do you want?”
“I want you to guarantee Jess’s safety. And Jack’s.”
Preston blinked at him. “Jack?”
The corners of Lars’s mouth quirked up in a dry smile. “Your nephew. The center of this controversy.”
Preston nodded slowly. “I assure you. I have no interest in harming my sister-in-law or her son.”
Lars’s smile faded. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Mr. Moreland.”
Preston swallowed. “My mother also promises not to interfere.”
“Your mother does no such thing!” Lydia leaned forward, her gaze fastened on Jess. “My grandson belongs with his family. His real family. The Morelands. I intend to take you through every court between here and Philadelphia. I will make sure my lawyers go through your life thoroughly, until they find every detail of your affairs.” Her gaze flicked to Lars and back. “Quite thoroughly. A judge may have some opinions on how fit a blackmailer is as a mother. When I’m done with you, no court in this country will leave a baby in your care.”
Jess raised her head slowly, her gaze holding Lydia’s. “I won’t let you take my son.” Jess’s fingers closed painfully tight on Lars’s hand, but she didn’t look away. “You can try whatever you want, but I won’t let that happen. Never. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure it doesn’t.”
“Ms. Carroll.”
Jess glanced toward Preston Moreland reluctantly. She really didn’t want to take her eyes off Lydia, not even for a moment. She didn’t trust her not to pull out a garrote.
“You said you were harassed in Belle View. What did you mean by that?”
Jess’s forehead furrowed. “I lost my job because your family forced me out of it. Then you had three of my friends fired for good measure. I lost my lease.”
“Fired? From where?” Preston turned toward his mother. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
Lydia shrugged. “She was working for one of our companies while refusing me access to my grandson. Why should we pay her to do that?”
Preston closed his eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m sorry about that, Ms. Carroll. Was that the problem with the Child Welfare Office?”
Jess pressed her lips into a thin line. “No, that was the guy you hired to cause a disturbance at my place. That set me up so that you could sic the Child Welfare Service on me.”
“You admit you were investigated by the Child Welfare people,” Lydia snapped. “Then you ran away in the middle of the night without telling them. They have an open file on you.”
Jess turned back to her. “I’m sure they do. I’m also sure you guaranteed that the file would stay open by using your contacts. And I ran away in the middle of the night because you were having me watched.”
“Paranoia in addition to neglect.” Lydia’s mouth stretched in what looked like a parody of a smile. “I’m sure the Child Welfare people will be interested to hear that. They can contact whatever agency handles such things down here. Single mothers are always an inherent risk.”
“That’s enough,” Lars growled. “That’s more than enough.”
Lydia turned her gaze to him for the first time. “And who might you be? The latest boyfriend?”
“Like I said, my name is Lars Toleffson.” He leaned across the table, towering over Lydia. Looming was much more effective that way, Jess reflected. “And I’m the man who’s going to marry Jess.”
The silence in the room had an electric quality, mainly from the other Toleffsons, both of whom were staring blankly at Lars.
“That will make Jack my stepson. Of course, since I intend to adopt him, he’ll soon be more than that.” Lars was very carefully not looking at Jess. “Jess will be a Toleffson. She won’t be alone, and she won’t be vulnerable to you.”
The silence lasted another few seconds. Then Lydia Moreland’s rictus smile slid into a sneer. “Another fortune-hunter? I don’t think so. I’ll make sure my lawyers put a stop to that. There’ll be no adoption of my grandson. Not by anyone!”
“Mother!” Preston Moreland’s voice roared from the other side of the room.
Jess turned toward him. Preston had risen from his chair. For a smallish man, he did a fairly impressive job of looming himself.
“Preston.” Lydia shot him an annoyed glance. “Don’t interrupt.”
Preston Moreland’s hands clenched convulsively at his sides. “Mother. Shut. Up.”
Lydia stared at him open-mouthed. Preston stared back. Whatever she saw was enough to make her subside into annoyed silence.
Preston turned to Pete. “I’ll ask you again. What do you want from us?”
Pete blinked at him, then seemed to recollect what they were talking about. “Jess?” He turned toward her slightly. “Tell them what you want.”
Jess looked up at Lars, warmth building slowly behind her breastbone. The warrior accountant.
Her
warrior accountant. She turned back to Preston Moreland. “I want you to stop trying to take my son away from me. More than that. I want you to leave both of us alone from now on. Permanently.”
Moreland sighed. “I understand your feelings. Yes, of course, I’ll stop any contact if that’s what you want.”
“Preston!” Lydia’s voice sounded slightly choked.
“I promise.” Moreland raised his voice slightly. “I’ll make sure my mother doesn’t bother you anymore. No one from our family will interfere with your life.”
Judging from Lydia’s expression, Preston would be lucky to survive the flight back to Belle View, let alone keep her in check.
Preston took a deep breath, turning to face his mother directly. “When we get back to Belle View, I’ll inform the department chiefs that they are to report any attempts you make to contact them. And to ignore those attempts. I’ll make sure the security division knows that includes them as well. In fact, before we left this morning I told your friend Roy Westerman to clear out his office by close of business today. I knew you’d done something, but I had no idea how bad it was until now. Give it up, Mother. You’re through.”
After a moment, Lydia turned away from him, raising her chin defiantly. “No. Definitely not. This is
not
over. I will have
my
grandson back at Belle View where he belongs.”
Preston’s knuckles turned white where his hands grasped the chair.
Jess stood slowly, wiping her palms on her thighs. She met Lydia’s basilisk gaze one more time. “Listen to me, old woman. You will never get my son. Never. Even if you manage to get rid of me, Lars will become his guardian. And Lars will be much harder to get rid of, believe me. But even if you send your people after him, he has three brothers, and their wives, and his parents, and the wives’ parents. I’m not alone anymore. I have a family now.
Jack
has a family now.” Her lips trembled for a moment, then she went on. “You can send down all the high-priced lawyers and hit men you want, but you don’t control things down here. Jack will never be yours.
He’s mine.
”
Lydia’s complexion turned a shade that resembled eggplant.
Jess shook her head. “Sooner or later somebody will decide you belong in jail, or maybe a nice psychiatric ward. Whichever it is, you won’t have access to my son. Not now. Not ever. Do I make myself clear?”
Lydia took a breath, but Preston beat her to it. “We understand, Ms. Carroll. I mean…” He paused. “Mrs. Moreland.”
Jess wasn’t sure it was possible for Lydia’s complexion to get more colorful, but just then it seemed to.
“I’ll make sure no one bothers you. From now on, my mother won’t have access to anything or anyone that could cause harm to you or your son.” His jaw hardened. “In fact, from now on, my mother’s access to almost everybody except her medical personnel is going to be severely curtailed. I don’t want my own family endangered.”
Lydia let out a long, hissing breath.
Preston extended a hand toward her. “Get up, Mother. We’re leaving now.”
Lydia gave Jess one more burning glance, then allowed Preston to help her to her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Weakling,” she snarled.
Preston sighed. “Come on. The driver’s waiting.”
Lydia marched through the door without glancing back. The crisp click of her footsteps echoed down the hall.
Preston turned back once more to look at Jess. “Mrs. Moreland, I’m sorry. That may not mean much under the circumstances, but you have my sincere apology. I loved my brother, you know. I hope someday you’ll let me meet my nephew.”
Jess nodded slowly. “Maybe someday.”
Preston gave her one last half smile, then headed down the hall after his mother.
Jess felt an overwhelming urge to break into a chorus of “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead”.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pete flopped into a leather chair across from the fireplace, narrowing his eyes at Lars. “That was possibly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Or anyway, the dumbest since that time you tried to float down the Nishnabotna River on a homemade raft. Calling him down here with nothing but that DVD to back you up. Jesus, Lars!”
Erik shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us you were planning something like this? If Docia hadn’t spilled it to Cal and if he hadn’t called us, we wouldn’t have found out what was going on until it was too late.”
“You should talk,” Pete snapped. “What the hell were you thinking, with your secret recording? I don’t even want to consider how many ethical guidelines, plus regulations, we’re both breaking at this point.”
Erik’s expression went blank.
“If Erik hadn’t made that recording, nothing would have stopped her.” Jess swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
The room was silent for a moment, then Lars shrugged. “Look, I just didn’t want you two to get any more involved than you already were. I didn’t want you in a position where you had to put your jobs at risk for our sake. Besides, if I’d told you, you’d have tried to talk me out of it.”
“True that,” Pete muttered.
Erik leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What would you have done if the old lady had called your bluff, bro? What if she’d gone on demanding to see Dahlia? She was ready to do it too. If her son hadn’t decided to reel her in.”
Lars shrugged. “I was going to say something vague about Dahlia no longer being in Konigsburg because the investigation had been turned over to the FBI.”
Pete grimaced. “Which brings up another problem. What happens when the FBI finally gets around to interviewing Lydia Moreland and it turns out she already knows about the phone recording?”
“My guess is, by then Lydia will be safely stashed away somewhere with a lot of security and a very high wall. I think Moreland was dead serious about her only having access to medical personnel. He wants her out of the way.
Far
out of the way.”
Pete blew out a long breath. “Still. Risky, bro. Very, very risky.”
Lars’s lips spread in a slow smile. “Ah, well, what’s life without a little risk?”
“Says the accountant.”
“Says the Toleffson.”
The three of them grinned at each other for a moment. Lars wondered if that had ever happened before—if they’d ever grinned at Erik and had him grin back. Certainly not when they were kids. But the times, as they say, were a-changin’.
“So.” Pete’s eyes took on a devilish glint. “When’s the wedding?”
Shit.
Lars cleared his throat. “We haven’t exactly set a date yet.” He was careful not to look at Jess.
“If you really got going on it, you could do something around Christmas. Dad and Mom are going to be here anyway. It would save them a trip.”
Pete’s lips edged up in a teasing smile. Lars felt like throttling him, but he supposed he’d asked for it. Pete had the right to a little payback.
He cleared his throat again. “Probably not that soon. We’ll have to discuss it. Maybe after you leave.” He gave Pete his most pointed look.
Erik stood, picking up his Stetson from the table. “Come on, Counselor. That’s our cue to haul ass.”
“Aw, just when I was starting to have fun.” Pete gave Lars another half grin.
Fratricide had a real appeal just then.
Lars watched his brothers troop out the door, very aware as he did that he hadn’t looked at Jess since the word
wedding
had been mentioned. The room suddenly seemed awfully quiet.
He took a deep breath, keeping his gaze on his feet. “Look, Jess, I’m sorry.”
She was silent for so long that he finally turned back to look at her. Her face was wiped clean of expression. “What are you sorry for exactly, Lars?”
“For putting you on the spot with the whole marriage thing. I didn’t think about that. I just…said it.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t feel on the spot. I thought it was brilliant. Did you see her face?”
“I was afraid she might have a stroke or something.” Lars grinned and then felt a quick pinch from his conscience. “Not that I wanted her to.”
“I did.” Jess’s voice was flat. “I wouldn’t mind if she were dead. And yes, I know what kind of person that makes me. And no, I don’t care.”
Lars sank beside her on the couch. “I’d say it makes you human. The woman would have had you killed so that she could snatch your son. She’s a monster.”
“She’s a Moreland. That’s what they do.”
“Preston didn’t seem so bad.”
“Preston…” Jess closed her eyes for a moment.
In the silence Lars could hear a rasping grackle outside in the yard.
“Barry liked Preston. But he said Preston didn’t understand their mother. He never understood what she was really like.”
“I’d say he understands now.”
The grackles cried again, raucous blats against the sound of the wind through the live oaks. “Are you ready to go back?” he asked. “Docia’s probably wondering what happened to us.”
“I guess we should,” Jess murmured, not moving. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the couch.
Lars took a deep breath.
Go on. Go for it.
“We could do it, you know.”
“Go back to town?”
“Get married.”
Jess’s eyes popped open.
He pushed on doggedly. “Daisy could be the flower girl. She’d like that. She’s already outgrown the dress she wore at Pete and Janie’s wedding, and she’s ready for another one.”
Beside him, Jess swallowed hard.
“We could even do it at Christmas if you wanted to. Pete’s right. My folks are going to be here anyway, and they’d help. Docia and Janie could pull it all together. They’ve done it before. Well, Janie has. And Allie. They did a good job on their own weddings. Well, sort of.” Now he was babbling. He just wished Jess would say something.
As long as it wasn’t
No
.
After a long moment, she cleared her throat. “What about Jack?”
“I love Jack,” Lars said flatly. “I’ll be a good father to him. I promise you.”
Jess’s fingers rested lightly on his arm. “I know that. That wasn’t what I meant. I meant, what do you want him to do in the wedding?”
His heart gave a mighty thump. “I’m not sure. Ring-bearer?”
“He can’t walk yet without help. And if you give him rings to hold, he might eat them.”
Lars shrugged. “He could be a ring-bearer pillow, then. We could pin them to his front.”
Jess started to giggle, which quickly turned to something closer to snorting and then chortling. She wrapped her arms around herself, laughing so hard now that she had tears in her eyes. And then the tears became real, and she was sobbing.
Lars gathered her against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “It’s okay. It’s over. We won.” His hand moved up to cradle the back of her head, stroking the silky softness of her hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear. “It’s okay, Jess.”
She lifted her head to look at him, moss green eyes still wet with tears, a nose badly in need of a handkerchief. She sniffed.
The corners of his mouth crept up into a grin. God, she was a gorgeous mess. Totally natural. Totally his. He laced his fingers through hers. “Jessamyn Carroll, I love you. Will you marry me?”
Jess took another deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. “Lars Toleffson, I love you too. And I’d be delighted.”
He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her salty lips, then angling deeper as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Jess’s tongue rose to meet his, rasping against him as he tasted salt again.
“Jess,” he whispered against her hair, “ah, Jess.”
Her body was pressed against his now, breasts soft against his chest, one leg draped across his hip. The couch was large and deep and might almost hold them if he shifted slightly to put her against the back. He reached toward the buttons on her shirt.
And remembered the door was unlocked. And Marcus Shandey was probably on the other side.
He sighed. “I suppose it would be tacky to go down the hall and see if there’s an unlocked bedroom.”
Jess nodded slowly. “Plus it would probably make more work for Mr. Shandey, and we’ve already put him through a lot.”
“Okay.” Lars started to pull himself upright again, his nether regions screaming in protest. “Maybe later.”
“Hold the thought. We need to go get our kids anyway.”
Lars’s mouth spread into what he was sure was a sublimely goofy grin. “Our kids.”
Jess’s forehead furrowed. “Yes?”
“Our kids,” he repeated. “Ours.”
After a moment, Jess’s lips spread in a grin that was probably a mirror image of his own in terms of goofiness.
God, they were made for each other.
Jess knew there were several dozen things they should be planning, not to mention a dozen or so people they needed to inform about their plans, but somehow all she wanted to do was ride through the hills with her head on Lars’s shoulder, as she was doing right at that moment. The GPS had them pointed in the general direction of Cal’s barn, but she wasn’t in any hurry to get there. She had a feeling as soon as they walked into the barn, chaos would descend. Plus they still had a few things to work out.
“Lars,” she murmured, “are you sure you want to do this so quickly? I don’t want you to rush into anything—no second thoughts later.”
Lars narrowed his eyes as he avoided a pothole. “I won’t have any second thoughts, Jess. Will you?”
She shook her head. “I’m certain. It’s just… I know you and Sherice didn’t, well, take much time.”
Lars glanced down at her, his eyes bleak. “You’re not Sherice. And I’m not the same man I was then. There’s a time to be cautious, and a time to go for it. This is the time to go for it, ma’am.”
Jess settled her head against his shoulder again. “Yes, sir. Go for it.”
When they pulled into the drive beside the barn, Cal’s front door burst open, and Docia, Cal, Daisy and Sweetie trotted out.
“What happened?” Docia called. “We didn’t hear anything from Pete and Erik, and we’ve been worried sick!”
Cal shook his head. “Not all of us. Some of us assumed you’d do just fine. Right, Jack?”
Jack, squirming in the crook of Cal’s arm, squealed his delight when he saw Jess.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cal grinned, extending the baby in her general direction.
Jess gathered Jack into her arms as Daisy threw herself at Lars’s knee.
“Daddy, can we take Sweetie home now? He’s missed us so much.”
Sweetie obligingly leapt up on Lars’s other side, yipping.
“Come in for dinner,” Docia demanded. “You can tell us all about it.”
Lars shook his head. “Not tonight, ma’am. Maybe tomorrow. Thanks for the babysitting.” He started herding Daisy and Sweetie toward the car.
Docia turned toward Jess, her forehead furrowing. “Is everything okay?”
Jess nodded, loosening Jack’s fingers from her hair. “Fine.” She took a deep breath, letting the goofy grin she’d been trying to suppress break out again. “Terrific, in fact.”
Docia narrowed her eyes. “You
will
come back.”
“Sure.” Jess took the diaper bag from Cal. “Eventually.” She turned and followed Lars to the car.
At the B and B, Jack had to be fed, changed, bathed and put to bed. Lars made dinner while Jess was on baby duty. She stared down at the plate of spaghetti he placed in front of her at the table. Amazing how convenient it was to have somebody else doing things in the house besides her.
Someone to talk to. Someone to pour Daisy’s milk. Someone to rub her feet and tell her what a sucky day he’d had. Amazing.
Jess closed her eyes for a moment, almost afraid that Lars would disappear when she opened them, leaving her alone again.
“You okay?” His forehead furrowed slightly.
“Just tired.”
He wiped Daisy’s face and hands while Jess cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. She’d expected him to put Daisy to bed, but when she came back to the living room, Daisy was sitting on the couch beside her father. Jess raised a questioning eyebrow.
Lars shrugged, smiling. “Daisy, honey, we’ve got some news. Some
really
good news. Mrs. Carroll and I are getting married. And we’d like you to be our flower girl.”
Jess felt like wincing.
So
not the way she would have done it. Oh, well, maybe it would work.
Lars beamed, his face glowing with such delight it made an ache begin somewhere deep inside Jess’s chest.
Daisy stared back and forth between them open-mouthed. Then her lips began to tremble.
Uh oh!
“No,” Daisy blurted.
Lars’s grin disappeared. “Daisy?”
“No.” Daisy’s face began to crumple. “No, no, no!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mouth formed a ragged O. Her chest heaved with sobs.
“Daisy,” Lars murmured. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t.”
He reached toward her, but Daisy jerked away, her sobs gaining volume. Jess bit her lip. If the sobs became wails, she’d wake Jack, and then they really would be in trouble.
She knelt in front of Daisy, putting her hand on her knee. “Daisy, look at me please.”
Daisy turned her tearful gaze downward, looking like an infant mask of tragedy.
“What’s wrong, honey? You’re not afraid your daddy won’t love you any more, are you? Because you know he always will.”
Daisy’s tragic mask turned faintly puzzled. “I know.”
Jess took a breath. “Do you miss your mommy?”
Daisy’s puzzlement became more pronounced. “Who?”
“Your mom, Daisy,” Lars explained, his voice slightly dry. “Your mother.”
Daisy shook her head, her forehead furrowing.
Jess took another breath.
Okay, let’s hear it.
“Is it me, Daisy? Do you not like me?”
Daisy’s lower lip thrust forward. “I like you. You’re nice.”
Jess glanced at Lars.
A little help here?
“Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Jack’ll be my brother.” Daisy’s voice had a dangerous quaver.
Lars nodded. “Yes. He’ll be your stepbrother.”
“I can’t marry my brother,” Daisy wailed. “Who can I marry?”