“It comes with medical benefits, though. Aren’t they worth more than the salary?” The host had obviously done his homework.
“Let’s not get distracted.” Beads of sweat stood out on the mayor’s forehead. “Running for the assembly is a full-time job. My first responsibility is to my wife, who’s always stood by me.”
“I thought your first responsibility was to your employees,” Ian said.
“Them, too.” Hightower peered at someone off-camera. Gemma? “Well, I just want to thank the people who’ve supported me, like Chief Jon Walters, and apologize for letting them down.”
After he stopped speaking, Ian let the silence lengthen. That was usually a good tactic for drawing people out, but the mayor simply sat there perspiring. Finally, the host faced the camera. “This is Ian Martin. Thanks for watching
On the Prowl in OC
.”
As the image faded, Jon clapped ironically. “Guess that lets me off the hook.”
“Eventually the whole story’s bound to break,” Mike pointed out.
Reese clicked off the screen. “I just hope the mayor doesn’t get off easy.” He didn’t seem nearly as satisfied with this turn of events as the chief. But then, no matter what punishment the mayor might undergo, he’d never be able to pay restitution for what he’d cost Kendall Technologies. “On the plus side, we’ve offered to provide the FBI with all relevant documents, and they haven’t asked for a general search.”
“Glad to hear it,” Mike said.
The maid reappeared. “Dinner is served in the dining room.”
“Excellent. I hope everyone likes lamb. I left the menu up to my wife,” Reese said as they arose.
Mike didn’t, particularly, but he’d eat live snails rather than risk offending his best client. “Sounds tasty.”
Jon quirked an eyebrow at him. Not a fan of lamb, either, evidently. “In case I haven’t mentioned it, I appreciate your tactful hand in all this, Mike.”
“Of course, my first responsibility is to preserve the jobs of my employees,” he deadpanned. For a minute, he feared his irony was too obscure, and then both men chuckled.
He hadn’t been entirely kidding, though. Successfully navigating this minefield meant a lot to the future of Fact Hunter Investigations.
Yet, as he took his place in the ornate dining room where the strains of Middle Eastern music played softly, Mike didn’t feel the burst of contentment he’d expected. He’d dodged one bullet, and hurray for that. But Paige’s decision about leaving had been looming over him all month, and the less she said about it, the more evident it became that she planned to go. He couldn’t shake the sense that she was punishing him for not wanting to be a father.
Hell, he liked kids. These past weeks, he’d become more aware of them than ever—no surprise, considering he was practically surrounded.
Patty had stopped by work with her cute six-year-old stepdaughter, who’d earnestly introduced Mike to a bandaged toy panda that he gathered had been the subject of the little girl’s medical experiments. Then Lourdes had brought her two tots to the beach again, using the cottage as a staging area. While she and her toddler son were in the bathroom, Mike had read a picture book to Graciela, who’d curled trustingly on his lap. What a doll.
Yeah, kids were fine. No reason he couldn’t stay friends with Paige and give her a helping hand now and then. Fair enough, considering it was biologically his kid. All the more reason for the child to grow up nearby.
Tonight, he’d thank her for the suggestion that had helped him keep both his client and an important business contact happy. Then he’d present his case in a logical, persuasive manner. Maybe she’d accept an offer for Mike to serve as, say, an honorary uncle.
It sounded like a reasonable plan. He only hoped it was enough incentive to keep her in Safe Harbor, where she belonged.
Chapter Seventeen
By the time the leisurely meal finished and Mike made his departure, it was nearly ten o’clock. He’d never enjoyed socializing with business acquaintances, but he masked his impatience in view of how important he considered these two men. Also, when Chief Walters relaxed and told a few jokes, he wasn’t bad company. As for Reese, he proved jovial enough, but in Mike’s opinion the good fellowship didn’t run very deep.
As he was driving home it registered that, since Yelena was already on the FBI’s radar, Mike would probably never have to disclose what he knew about her affair with Roy. No doubt their agents had pictures that put his snapshots to shame. He wouldn’t have to break his promise to Mrs. Hightower.
The ring of his cell phone, wedged into its mount, yanked him out of his reflections. Pressing a key, he said into the headset he usually wore while driving, “Mike Aaron.”
“Hi, there! It’s me.”
He instantly placed the irritating voice from his past. “Sheila. You’re calling me why?” To hell with being polite. His ex-wife had crashed his family’s picnic and now she was bugging him when he had better things to occupy his mind.
“Just wanted to share my wonderful news—I’m pregnant!”
“Good for you.”
Now go away,
he thought as he turned onto Safe Harbor Boulevard.
“I thought you’d be happy for me.” He heard a note of disappointment.
For Pete’s sake, the woman had cheated on him. What did she expect? “It’s great that you got what you wanted. But I’m still wondering why you’re calling.”
“Because I like Paige, and I thought I’d do you both a favor.”
“A favor?” The only favor Mike wanted from his ex-wife was peace and quiet. Especially quiet.
“I don’t want you to make the same mistake again,” she went on. “Paige is a terrific person. I’d hate to see you break up over the same issue.”
He knew he’d regret giving her the satisfaction, but he had to ask: “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Something she said in her office today.” He could picture the little blonde fiddling with her hair, the way she used to whenever she was nervous. “She told me all about how she got pregnant from the sperm bank.”
“She did?” He’d never expected Paige to be so indiscreet.
“You ought to stick with her, Mike. She and I are both pregnant at the same time. That’s fate, sending you a message.”
What had Paige been thinking to share their secrets with Sheila—or anyone? “I don’t believe in fate.”
“Well you should.” Sheila gave a little squeak. “Oh, Gil’s back from the store. I gotta go.”
“’Bye.” When the light turned green, he hit the gas so hard the car lurched. Damn. Mike knew better than to let emotions affect his driving.
As he eased off on the gas, he remembered his plan to sweet-talk Paige. But how was he going to do that when she’d betrayed his trust?
Like it or not, his ex-wife had just thrown a monkey wrench into his plans.
* * *
A
FTER
TOASTING
HER
PLANS
with Nora, Paige had been keyed up to share her decision with Mike. At home, when he didn’t arrive by dinnertime, she’d considered calling, but that seemed too much like nagging.
They weren’t married. While they
were
living together, that situation might be ending soon. In truth, she had no idea how to describe this relationship.
If only he wanted more. Sitting on the patio after eating a light meal, Paige watched an older couple stroll arm in arm along the sidewalk. A man to share her life with, a man to grow old with. That’s what she longed for. With a pang, she recognized that she no longer wanted to meet Mr. Right, because she’d already found him. She’d never considered the possibility that when that happened, she might not be Ms. Right for him.
Did you ever hurt like this for anyone, Aunt Bree?
She wished she could ask her aunt. There’d been a boyfriend who’d died in the Korean War, Paige recalled, but Bree hadn’t said much about him.
Yet a conversation came back from the months when her aunt was growing frail. They’d been out here on the patio, Bree lying wearily in the lounger, her pale skin stretched tight across her cheekbones. “You can’t always control the outcome of your choices.” Sadness had shadowed her aunt’s face. “You can only choose to the best of your ability. Then there’ll be nothing to regret.”
“Do you have any regrets?” Paige had asked.
She’d expected her aunt to say no. Instead, after a moment, Bree had responded, “I closed my heart once because I never wanted to feel such pain again. I didn’t mean that to be permanent, but I got used to keeping my feelings walled away. The years passed and now it’s too late to change.”
Tears had glistened on her aunt’s cheek. Then a friend had stopped by for a visit, and they’d never returned to the subject. Paige wondered if Bree had been referring to her boyfriend’s death.
I’m not like that. I won’t close myself off.
If she had to go on without Mike, she’d pour her love into this baby. And hope that time healed hearts the way people claimed it did.
But she doubted it.
* * *
O
N
THE
PATIO
, M
IKE
WAS
surprised to see Paige resting in a lounge chair in the dark. Then he took a step closer and realized she’d dozed off.
“Hey.” Although she needed her sleep, he couldn’t leave her out here. “You okay?”
Eyes flickering open, she stretched languidly. If he hadn’t been so angry, he’d have drawn her into the house and the bedroom, caressing and kissing her until passion drove away her sleepiness.
And risk having her describe the whole scene to Sheila in the morning? Immediately, he dismissed the thought as unworthy. Still, she’d seriously damaged his trust.
“Where’ve you been?” Paige asked lazily.
“Excuse me?” He didn’t like being called to account like a schoolboy.
“I waited for you.” She swung her legs around and rose unsteadily.
“I never promised to be home any particular time.” Spoiling for a fight, that’s how he felt. His better judgment warned him to rein that in, but what had she been thinking to tell Sheila their secrets?
Paige wandered into the house. When she switched on a lamp, the light hurt his eyes.
“I didn’t mean to sound bossy,” she said. “I just had something to tell you.”
“Does it have anything to do with you shooting off your mouth to my ex-wife?” Mike set his laptop case on the floor.
“What?” Brushing back a long strand of hair, she regarded him in confusion.
“She called a few minutes ago to tell me about her pregnancy and give me advice, if you can believe that. She claims that you and me having a child must be fate.”
“So this concerns Sheila.” Deep breath. “I need a cup of tea. How about you?”
“That doesn’t even come close.”
“Beer?” She ambled into the kitchen. Frustrated, he followed. Wasn’t she going to apologize?
“I’m fine. Had a few drinks with friends.” He left it at that.
Paige set about making tea. “Mike, I ask my patients a lot of personal questions, and it’s hard to know where to draw the line when they ask questions in return, especially since Sheila saw us together at the picnic. Besides, my pregnancy isn’t a secret.”
“Is my paternity common gossip, as well?”
Frown lines striped her forehead. “Did she say that?”
“More or less.”
“I told her I’d used donor sperm, but that’s all.”
Even so, she’d come too damn close to exposing a fact so deep and personal it cut to the bone. Anger rattled around seeking a target. “Are you going to be treating her through her entire pregnancy? Can I look forward to more of my personal life being revealed to my cheating ex-wife in little dribs and drabs?”
Paige poured the hot water over her teabag. “Sheila was Nora’s patient originally. I could transfer her.”
“I wasn’t even planning to tell my own family.” He rapped his knuckles on the door frame.
Steam from the tea misted Paige’s eyes. “You really don’t want anything to do with our baby, do you?”
“Our baby?” Even though he’d intended to stay involved, her question tightened the noose. “I didn’t sign up for this. You made a decision all by yourself.”
“I did.” She tried to blow on the tea, but couldn’t seem to manage. “Mike, about Sheila…”
“Let’s not discuss her. You explained what happened. Fine.” He supposed Paige wasn’t exactly at fault, but his ex-wife’s phone call had brought back feelings of anger and betrayal. “I’m in a bad mood and I’d rather not take it out on you, so let’s just say good-night.”
“I’m off to bed in a minute, anyway.” Regarding him over the edge of the mug, Paige seemed pensive.
For a moment, as he turned away, he thought she was about to say something, but she merely gave him a half smile.
Tomorrow, after he calmed down, they should talk. But Mike had to admit, the likelihood of persuading her to stay in Safe Harbor seemed to dwindle by the minute.
* * *
P
AIGE
HAD
SEEN
SIMILAR
miraculous sights hundreds of times, but never from this angle. Physically
or
emotionally.
“Can’t tell the sex yet at eleven weeks, but he or she is an active little person.” Mark Rayburn’s dark eyes glowed with appreciation as he moved the ultrasound paddle across Paige’s gel-covered stomach. On the monitor, a tiny baby whose head took up nearly half its length wiggled in a cone of light. “As you know, there is a blood test that can determine sex as early as seven weeks with ninety-five percent accuracy.”
Paige had already decided against that. “There’s still a five percent chance it’s wrong. I’d rather wait until I can be more certain.”
“I can’t wait for my first ultrasound!” put in Lori. The nurse peered eagerly over Paige, who felt strange lying on the examining table, as if she should hop up and administer to the patient. “It’s adorable. Do you have names picked out?”
“Bree for a girl and Brian for a boy.” She wondered whether Mike would like those.
Uh-oh
. She’d been trying not to think about him, and now a rush of yearning flooded her. She ached for his dear, stern face to brighten with joy as he regarded this first, precious image of their child.
She had to get over this. Every time the subject of the baby came up, Mike withdrew even further. It was hopeless.
You can’t make a man love you, and you certainly can’t make him want to be a father.
All the same, she and Nora had discussed the problem with Sheila earlier. Her partner had gladly agreed to call and explain that she would be taking over the woman’s maternity care. Nora planned to present it as a simple matter of resuming treatment of a longtime patient. Only if Sheila objected would she add that Paige felt an ethical conflict because of Mike.
Last night had been awkward and disappointing. Just when Paige hoped her decision to stay might spark a new closeness between them, Sheila’s interference had created a rift. Obviously, Mike hadn’t resolved his anger over the divorce.
This morning, Paige had rushed to the hospital early to deliver a patient’s twins by Cesarean section. What a pleasure to see their little scrunched faces and hear the neonatologist announce that they were in excellent shape.
On the screen, she watched Baby B cavort without a care in the world. Six months from now, this little person would make his or her own debut.
Without a daddy.
A lump clogged Paige’s throat. Too late, she recalled how clearly her emotions showed on her face. Mark and Lori moved about diplomatically keeping their remarks to practical matters. Although tempted to assure them everything was fine, Paige supposed that would only underscore the fact that things
weren’t
.
But as Keely had pointed out, her coworkers and friends had become a family. She and Baby B would do just fine.
After thanking the doctor and nurse, Paige took the ultrasound photos in their protective envelope, and tucked them into a side pocket of her purse. In the car, she swung by the Suncrest Market to pick up groceries and returned home as the sunshine shaded into twilight.
On Seaside Lane, traffic was barely moving. Most likely that indicated an accident blocking the road up ahead, although Paige couldn’t tell through the long line of cars. To avoid the mess, she turned right a few blocks before Seaside Court and wended her way via side streets.
Around the corner from her house, a motor home took up two spaces at the curb. As she passed the oversize vehicle, Paige glimpsed a man on the sidewalk. Pinched face, sly expression. Willy Kerrigan.
Another face appeared through the RV’s windshield. It was a newer resident, the man she’d seen casing parked cars with Willy. No way did he own that expensive RV.
As Paige reached for her cell phone, she saw the second man leap onto the sidewalk and start in her direction. A surge of alarm ran through her.
They know where I live.